Archive for March, 2015

packing to move

March 23, 2015

at the beginning of the packing process, i was a rockstar at remaining unemotionally attached and i threw out bags and bags and bags and piles and piles and bags of things. things i couldn’t get rid of four years ago when i moved to this current apartment. i chucked it all with cold calculation.

it hit a screeching halt when it was time to dive into my closet. i put aside maybe seven things to give to good will, but the rest i was all “maybe i’ll wear this again. it’s so cute. remember when i bought it. remember where i wore it. i’ll definitely wear it again. it stays.” as my packing supplies didn’t support moving clothes on hangers, i wrestled with finding a solution to all of those clothes. it wasn’t until yesterday when i remembered this poem by adriana that i recognized it was the memories of skinnier times or when i first wore it or where i was when i previously wore it or who i was when i wore it before that i was having trouble giving up.

AC's moving poem, day 29, april 2012

clothes are a tangible representation of ourselves and that’s hard to pull off the hanger and discard. i was afraid of losing not only the options of more outfits but the memories too. out of sight out of mind, as they say, and true enough, the smaller fragments of memories might not linger but they were part of how i got to where i am today, to who i am today. they’re the foundation of my soul and they’ll always echo in my life.

it’s time to toss the clothes and pack up only the memories which are so light, so easy to move.

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patience and secrets

March 20, 2015

i’ve always considered myself a patient person, until that is, my dad called me out on being impatient. i realized it’s true. he’s right. some of the time. i need more data on when/why/how i’m patient vs. not, but what i do know for certain is that it’s an odd thing to have something you’d always thought to be true about yourself be challenged.

i went to type an email at work asking for some promised data, but hearing my dad’s voice echo in my head, i deleted the email and waited for my coworker to email me on his time schedule, not mine.

(is my patience all about what i can and can’t control?) (like traffic and other people and traveling?)

i love secret conversations with family about travel, birthdays, and surprises.

the four numbers were supposed to add up to 100. mine = 98. twice. i pulled out my iphone calculator and mumbled once or twice as the figures i punched in were wildly off. he pulled the paper from my hands and hunched over the figures while our teacher rattled on about the next/current assignment. i pulled the papers he’d need for this next portion out of his binder while he continued to calculate. he whispered that he found a difference in one of the four categories. we burst out in hushed giggles as i pointed out that meant the total was now 97. secret math conversations with me never add up correctly.

conversations with strangers #113

March 16, 2015

3.10.15

i’d stepped to the side to give a mother and her daughter the right of way because the upcoming stretch of sidewalk was one way due to lingering snow. the mother, recognizing my gesture, quickened her step. the daughter, 6 at most, but most likely 5, trudged ever slowly forward.

mother: come on, honey. hurry up.

me: *smiles* no hurry.

daughter appears to be slowing down.

mother: let’s go, sweetie. this nice lady is waiting.

daughter: *scowls* *grumbles* *doesn’t hurry*

the temperatures were as warm as they’ve been all winter, so i didn’t mind waiting. also, the thundercloud of a little girl was amazing to watch. i’m not sure if she just isn’t a morning person (what kid isn’t though?) or if she was preparing her mother for her actions when she’s 15 or if she didn’t like the breakfast her mother’d made her eat that morning, but both mother and daughter’s actions were born of familiarity and comfort and love.

it made me think of my interactions with my mom and i’m super grateful i’m no longer the troublesome teen because i sure gave my mom a run for her money back then.

THE BIG FIX arc tour

March 11, 2015

book 1: IN A FIX

book 2: QUICK FIX

book 3: THE BIG FIX (releases may 12, 2015)

the third book in linda grimes’ series has a new look, but contains the same screwball cast of characters whom you should all know and love as much as i do. all the characters grimes has created are so real and fully developed (*snicker*), you feel as though they’re part of your inner crowd. they’re cool, hip, awkward, and downright hilarious. this book hits just the right amount glamour to sweep you away from reality and shock to bring you back down to earth before you forget you left the curling iron on… essentially, what you need to know is that ciel is up to her usual shenanigans until she does something that will make you scream NO NO NO or YES YES YES but definitely SERIOUSLY, DID THAT JUST HAPPEN?! it’s the twist to end all twists and you won’t see coming, except you will, but not quite, but it’s believable, and beyond shocking, and SERIOUSLY DID THAT JUST HAPPEN, and please read this book so we can talk about it!

moral of this review: every one of these characters are people you want in your life, so i suggest buying the first two books and pre-ordering the third. you won’t regret it. i’ll be over here biting my nails waiting for you to catch up on the series + news of the fourth FIX.

conversations with strangers #112

March 10, 2015

2.20.15

C and i both have our masters degrees and yet, we could not figure out how to buy a pass for the DC metro system. we tried various options and chatted and approximately 12 minutes later, finally cracked the code. C bought her ticket and as i was purchasing mine, an employee came over.

metro guy: ladies, is everything okay?

C: yup. we finally figured it out.

MG: if you buy the daily pass you save a dollar on every ride.

C: oh, we bought the card where you just put a specific amount of money on it. we’ll be okay with that.

me: this is like reading greek.

MG: where are you all from? i’ve always like the greeks.

C: boston.

C and MG continued the conversation as my attention had to be laser focused on buying my ticket. the machine spit out my ticket, we thanked the man, and went on our way.

me: why did he keep talking about the greeks when you said we were from boston?

C: it was when you said it was like reading greek. he thought we were from greece!

even though he and i were unintentionally having separate conversations, the kindness in his voice and actions was unmistakable.