Can’t I have nice things?!

This post will serve as more of a vent. I just broke one of my favorite framed pictures. This is kind of a big deal.

The feeling that often emerges once something special is broken is not enjoyable and is an emotional roller coaster for me. What becomes imminent is to remind myself that the item can be replaced if that is true (*in this case, it is!) and to remind myself that it is best that I am the culprit here — no one else to hang!

The truth is, in terms of personal belongings, I am sorta all over the place right now. I am internally and externally living out of a suitcase and the overall feeling of it can really take its toll. Especially when there is the glass of a special frame to be shattered.

For now, I am going to choose to breathe and keep taking everything one day at a time. My mother has always said to “Build a bridge and get over it.” I am going to clean up this glass now and do just that. Hopefully, the grass is greener and the glass is cleaner on the other side.

Crossing the Brooklyn Bridge – December 2015

Berries & Gloss

A Yankee candle sits on the dresser in my old room at my parents’ house. The scent is called “Berrylicious.” I walked past it the other day and was transported to my junior year of high school, when I went on a trip with my friend Carrie to New York City for the first time. It was there, at a random shop, that I purchased a random tube of lip gloss. The scent of my lips during that trip smelled like this candle.

I find it funny how a sense can take us back in time. I actually leaned over the dresser for a minute before recalling the origin of the scent and asked myself, “How in the world do I know this smell?” I stared at the candle and then looked at myself in the mirror, determined, for a while. Until it came to me.

Instantly, I was walking those streets again for the first time — Huddled under an umbrella with my friend in the rain and falling in love with a place I knew one day I would belong to. Sundaes from Serendipity. Bagels in the hotel bed. Buildings I needed to see — Breathing NYC.

Now, I miss the city a lot and need to go back soon. But, for now, I have a lit candle to hold me over. The scent, just now, has filled the room.

The candle.
Sitting in the hotel window during my first trip to NYC.






The theme of what we like to do came up when chatting with a couple friends recently. I starting thinking of hobbies. Theatre, biking, singing, dancing, laughing, being with friends and family, etc. all came up.

Then I started thinking about what it is I am good at. One thing that always comes to mind is forgiveness. I have always been very quick to forgive others (not to be confused with the term forget). 

I have always felt inside that it is unhealthy and unbecoming to hold a grudge or keep a negative feeling about somebody inside, avoided. I am very fast to let the weight go and move on, but with an attained awareness.

I once wrote a little funny for a contest I saw listed in a magazine  (I never sent it in), involving writing a funny sentence about resentments or something similar. It read: “You know the one thing I just can’t get over about you: you always do hold a grudge!” I don’t actually have that issue, but the sentence just came to me.

Here is a little poem I wrote years ago. I had traveled to South Carolina and ended up staying much longer than planned.

Here, In My Car

Here I am
In a familiar place
When things have seemed unfamiliar
For too many days

In a house so stretched
Driving for miles,
Climbing mountains
To feel that again

Here I am
Starting over by going back
Back to a beginning
One can never go back

On my way
Holding your photograph,
Staring at a fingerprint
I have held you before

Here you are
Best to give, not only take
Taking only left me your picture
I am awake

There is no thing harder to give
But the saying does go,
“Live and let live”

There you were
Beside me, in my car
Still under my thumb
Here I am
In my car