Happy Anniversary FCs!

Two amazing things happened to me in 2005:
#1 The love of my life asked me to marry him.
#2 FCFC entered my life.

Thanks to both of these events, my life will never be the same but for the sake of gag reflexes, let's focus on the latter today...

FCFC is my beloved soccer team. I share it with a number of lovely ladies... who also call it their own.

FCFC is also my lifeline... representing some of the best, most cherished memories I have yet to make and some of my favorite people on the planet.

The squad includes some of the most dynamic and incredible girls that I have ever met. We're all "grown ups" but really, we're all little kids at heart... how else would we explain running around like ADHD maniacs on the field? With ages spanning from early twenties to early thirties, and interests from writing to scrapbooking to ghetto-speak to snowboarding to breakdancing, you'd never pin us all together as a group of friends. But, when you see us together, you'd never believe that we've only been friends for 3 years.

Yes, it's that amazing.

Its funny - each of us are quite different... at very different places in life... but the common denominator is US. We all have each other. No one more important or popular than the other - all equally appreciated, loved, and respected... and missed when unable to attend games or events.

For the most part, we're all grounded. A few of us have our heads in the clouds, but those heads are at least on straight. And, we have the most amazing time together...

Just thinking about these moments (though, they won't make sense to the outside reader) makes me smile...

The Vegetable Game. Pumpkinpalooza at Maris & Brian's. Power Hour. Strawberry Salsa. Bachelorettes! Whitesnake. New Hampshire. Ugly Sweaters. Initiations. Book club. Foxy weddings. Tripods. Catch Phrase. Togas. Donut cakes. Email threads that go on for miles. Scavenger Hunts. Beernics. Grab bags. Sing Star... Guitar Hero... etc. Outlet shopping. BABIES!

And, of course...SOCCER!

I love you all in a very special way...

MS - YOU, oh Cappyton, have been the rock for this team. You are always there to pull us together for a game, a meeting, a shenanigan, or just a casual night. Your kindness and patience clearly indicates what a wonderful mother you are going to be.

KG - Miss All American Mama, you are truly responsible for bringing soccer into my life and black and red into all of our lives... without that, I don't know where I would be. And, by far, the best FCFC party host... even as a preggers. :)

AG - Ms. Gwoves, the girl who could turn reading the phone book into pure hilarity, I feel blessed everytime I am in your presence. You have the most amazing spirit and zest for life. And, your feet are pretty damn sexy.

AR - You always bring your A game. You just bring it - anywhere you go. Soccer, flip cup, initiation, sing star, dance floor - you are always on point. Nothing is half assed and for that, you are a supah star.

J(P)I - Pumpkin, Pumpkin, Pumpkin. My gangstah. Sometimes I want to smoosh you, you are too cute. Sometimes I want to punch you, you are too hard on yourself. But most times... I want to be you, your tenacity is inspiring.

JC - Cor, the invalid yet devoted. You are such a beautiful, artistic soul. And, your committment to this a team, despite your chronic injuries, is admirable... and reminds me that I need more JC in my life. (Don't we all?)

TF - Tap Tap Tappity. Oh my. You my friend were by far the most UNASSUMING character I have ever encountered. The dark horse of the group who turns out, is the craziest (crazy good, that is). I only wish we had been exposed to True Tap sooner... the world is a better place (as are my business trips) with Tap!

Focks - I cannot leave you out of the love. You all hold a very foxy place in my heart. You add the much needed balance to a group full of emotion and too much estrogen. Muah!

From the very 1st indoor soccer game, where I walked in not knowing a soul, not having touched a ball since high school, and being nauseuosly intimidated by what I saw on the field (the game before ours was the Chuggers). To now...

Foxy Chicks Futbol Club was born. And - it was the 2nd best thing to happen to me in 2005 (sorry ladies, BHK must take precedent)!

Happy 3rd Anniversary, friends! Foxy for life.

Oh No She Din't (finger snap)

If nothing else in my young and modern life, I've learned one very important rule of business etiquette: Do not, under any circumstances, talk about politics or religion with colleagues. Without exception, exit the conversation as politely as possible. I thank my former employer for pounding this into my brain because I have witnessed some entirely unnecessary, uncomfortable, and inappropriate dialogue.

So - when pondering this post, I was struck with confliction... fear so heavily resounding in me that I questionned the rules within my own podium.

Big fat W T F to that. My blog. My stage. My thoughts are unequivocally welcome. Come in Thoughts, sit down. Have a cocktail (or two) since you are thankfully drinking again (crowd applauds!)... tell us, what's on your mind?

Disclaimer: Please know that I am not resisting God nor religion nor church. I am in an exploration phase right now, I like to think. And, I am eager to learn how to apply faith into my life... in a way that works for me, the hub, and our imaginary / future family. Its also important to note: my beliefs and thoughts are subject to change... for no apparent reason... at any given time.

The background...
I grew up in a relatively strict Catholic fashion. I went to catholic school, CCD, church every Sunday, and every holiday, weekly confessions. It was the way of life. I stomped my feet on the occasional Sunday morning but for the most part, I did not mind.

Now, many years later... I confess, I do not go to church. I do not worship. And, I do not know what to believe.

The gist...
Right now... part of me wants to go to church but it is only because I feel guilt weighing on me. It is not necessarily because I want to. Frankly, I am somewhat scared of the whole act of worship. I feel like it is insincere and obligatory... yes, I am there on my own free will but the Mass curriculum is not necessarily the fashion in which I want to "pray".

And "worshipping" - I don't get it. Wouldn't "God" prefer us to be out doing good things rather than spending time worshipping? He is the one selfless spirit among us. Praying is one thing. Worshipping is entirely different. (To me, of course... and no, I am not talking about David Beckham worshipping.)

So, do I stop questionning and just start trying churches or do I hold off until I feel more compelled, inspired? Part of me wants to stop questioning and go back to ritual... as a form of discipline, if nothing else. It couldn't hurt... right?

This weekend, hub asked about "Peace be with you"... he wanted to know where it fell in the Mass timeline (its adorably his favorite part). So, of course, without hesitation, I know EXACTLY when it happens and I recite the chain of events to him (mind you, I haven't been to church since... well, lets just say I am due for many Hail Marys to make up for it... "Father its been... too freaking long since my last confession and mass"). After I recite the last 1/4 of the Mass to him, I pause and say... that is exactly what I dislike about church. Predictability and ingenuity. I recite all the same regurgitation, week in, week out. It means nothing more than it did the last time.

Unfortunately.

I try to make it meaningful but its too rehearsed. Its now protocol. I know I could make more of it - I'll get out of it what I put into it, right? And I'd never want to discredit or take away from what other people get out of church and their devotion. I am envious, truly. I want that. But I refuse to forcefeed or brainwash myself.

[I also believe in the theory of psychological egoism so, its really hard for me to understand how to fit religion in my life... when I believe that all of our actions are self motivated. But, that is a story for another day.]

To the contrary - I always say that I am "blessed". I have an amazing life. And things ALWAYS work out for me. Neither of which I take for granted. Whether it is circumstantial or there is an angel or a god watching over me, I obviously do not know. But, I like to believe it is of the divine.

I want to believe in God. I don't want to be condemned for not wanting to "worship" or congregate in an organized fashion. I want to explore the beliefs I have. And, I want it to be acceptable for me to believe that one can be somewhat of an existentialist yet be faithful and religious, believing there is a higher power among us all... without contradicting oneself.

Capeesh?

And I Was Runnin'

Edited for the June 5, 2008 edition of Runner's Lounge TIART series. They’ve asked us to share our favorite post from the last year. Being that I only began paying attention to my running routine in January, my favorite post is from March 24th, fairly recent but most relevant as it marks the moment I realized... holy moly, I am a runner.

Its taken me a long time to feel justified in saying this but... I AM A RUNNER.

I love to run. The calming effect, the challenge, the euphoria, the endorphins. I feel like a damned Nike ad but there is truth to be told, my friends.

At times, I seriously DREAD running. I don't want to go and I stomp my feet like a 5 year old whining about coming inside after a fun filled day in the snow.

I. DON'T. WANT. TO. (Pout.)

And, then I lace up my shoes and get my ass out the door. The first mile is generally a huge cluster of nonsense. Getting settled. My brain is going a mile a minute, trying to think of any excuse to turn around and go veg out on the couch. My body creaks as it works out the kinks of a good night's sleep and the gluttony of the weekend. I'm pretending to be tired (its more like pure laziness). My iPod is blaring some techno/dance song at 176 BPM. I have a wedgie. I'm arguing with myself. My shoes feel too tight. My hair is in my face. And I'm panting.

But, I keep running.

Soon - I develop a rhythm. The steps get mildly easier. The beat keeps me moving.

And then, I am coasting, my brain is quiet, my body is working fluidly, my face is flushed from the sun, the wind, and the rush. I am comfortable and exhilarated.

One foot in front of the other as I glance at the surrounding neighborhoods and trees and little bodies of water. Little moments filled with so much life.

Breathing. In and out.

Thoughts cross my mind. I have time to think. To reflect. To contemplate. Its empowering and I have total control.

The faster I run, the stronger the burn, and the stronger the rush. The greater the payoff.

I've learned so much through running. So much about myself, so much about the human spirit and the power within. (Again, me and the damned Nike ADs. Sorry.)

The most raw form of exercise has me lost and found in one hour. I start out somewhat bitter and unnerved that I have to run. I finish refreshed and awakenend.

(Though, I am still bitter its Monday!)

p.s. As much as I absolutely thrive on and crave running... in the same token, I have absolutely zero desire to run a marathon. Not an ounce. And, I feel sort of guilty about it. Aren't all runners supposed to want to complete at least one marathon in their life? Well, I am 100% fine with never doing it. I feel that it will do absolutely nothing for me but wreck my body (my knees ache at the thought.) Anything that causes one to poop themselves while doing it... cannot POSSIBLY be good for you.

Behind the Aesthetic

I am laid back... except when there are an incessant amount of dishes in the sink (or other hormonal, uncontrollable factors are involved). Then, I am neurotic and flagrant.

I like brussel sprouts like you would not believe is humanly possible. They are my favorite food on the planet. (No joke.)

I overanalyze everything... including how I am wording this very statement. (Leave it. Go. Move on.)

I am obsessed with outdoor "gear"... even things that I would never use. Like hiking headlamps and fishing outfits (I do not fish nor do I have any desire to... except maybe to wear the fun outfit).

I have anxiety about being anxious. And, the root of the anxiety is usually unjust and ridiculous. But, I'm forever anxiety ridden.

I am a runner. (It has taken me a long time to feel justified in saying that but... I AM.)

I am addicted to the Sun and being in it. (I know the harms... really, I do. But, I'm an addict, what can I say?)

I am an aspiring yuppie. (As much as I am down to earth, material instincts are sometimes motivating. I cannot help it.)

I'm addicted to charts and lists.

I'm more addicted to crossing out items on my list.

I am neurotic about wiping the fingerprint smudgeys off of my phone.

I can't wait to be a Mom.

I am petrified of having children.

I am obsessed with Yankee candles.

In most instances, my glass is half full.

There is always a song in my head.

I hate the end of a good time. (The end of a good book. The end of a fun event. The end of a treat. The end of a vacation. The end of a party. The end of Christmas.)

I love summer. (Like, really LOVE.)

I hate winter. (Like, really HATE IT.)

I am afraid of any body of water that is not a pool. (I am afraid of what lurks within the water... snakes, fish, frogs, sharks, etc.)

I like to race...

For a long time, I thought I was destined to be a rock star. (Now, I know I am only destined for Sing Star.)

I am... me.

How To: Survive Working From Home

So, you've landed an amazing job with awesome pay, fabulous benefits, and a great company, etc. The sweetest part - you get to work from home. Sounds like a dream come true, right? It is... when approached with caution and regard to some casual rules.

1. Friends: Friends are critical to maintaining sanity. Stay in touch with your friends. If you don't have friends, make some, hire some, do what you need you need to do.

2. Socialize: Make plans... and keep them. Staying in every night becomes incredibly easy... but going days without stepping outside is entirely unhealthy. Trust me.

3. SHOWER: For the love of God. Take a freaking shower! It seems worthless on some days... knowing that there will be no one there to smell your 3 day stench... but take this seriously, pretend you are going to a real office. Consider your plants and office furniture your co-workers... they'd shower for you if they could... show some respect.

4. Talk Outloud: Personify objects around you. Or, for advanced homeworkers (read: crazy) learn to have full on conversations with yourself. I talk to my bamboo plant on a daily basis. We rehash the previous night's episodes of American Idol or Biggest Loser, lamenting on who was voted off (equally distraught about losing Danny Noriega and Bernie). Helps keep that whole office comraderie feel afloat.

5. Run Errands: God knows that you could order every office supply, printing service, & meal online or via phone... but resist the urge and opt to visit the store. It is 100% necessary to get out of the office at least once per day... l'est days go by without having breathed the air outside your home or having seen real people. Make an excuse if you have to... you would NOT believe how many post-it notes I have accumulated from uselesss Staples runs.

5a. Dress up: When running errands, get dressed... in like real clothes. Step away from the sweat pants. I am not saying to pretend you work in an office and put on some biz casj clothes, I am just saying... revisit the jeans which haven't seen the light of day since you decided it was OK to spend your entire life in elastic waste pantalones.

6. Exercise: The gym is your friend. GO. You'll realize soon enough that you need the gym more than ever... as you tend to snack the day away, raiding the pantry on various occasions throughout the week. Take the time and GO.

7. Leave Work at Work: ... well, as much as you possibly can. Create an office space that is designated for nothing else. As nice as it would be to work from the comfort of the couch... it gets hard to learn when to quit working. And, you could easily develop resentment towards your couch and living room... and what did they ever do to you?

8. Get Out of Town: Use weekends to seriously get out of the house. Go away for a weekend, an overnight, or just a day trip. LEAVE the house.

9. Take a Break: As easy as it is to sit at your work station and work the entire day, right through lunch, it is unhealthy and unproductive... step away. See #1, 3, 5, 6 for ideas on what to do. Or, simply... take a lunch break. Your computer keyboard is tired of being the crumb collector.

10. Listen to the Radio: Silence might be key to complete your job but... it can be deafening and somber without some background noise. It will also help you keep up on the daily headlines and latest Top 40 hits... rather than being entirely disconnected from life outside your pod.

(From my experience working from home for the last 8 months... I've learned quite a bit.)

Strugglepants at Her Finest

From an email thread with a friend of mine... conversing the many joys of working from home... in sweatpants, of course.

Friend: You know that the world is jealous because we're buying sweats as office clothes... Enjoy the rest of your sweatpants day!

Me: You'll be happy to know that I am sitting in in my most expensive, haute couture sweat pants (AKA what was on clearance at GAP Outlet). I went for a head band today. Could've just have easily gone with the tossled bun but my bamboo plant looks at me funny when I do that. I just can't take all of this office drama.

Yours Truly... truly in oversized, traditional, heather gray, sweatpants... with slightly stained, and slightly frayed hems (thats right, I said hems... no elastic bottoms on these fashion friendly joints).

Friend: I HATE those elastic bottomed ones. Like I make myself so much more classy with the ones with hem. Pathetic.

Next Day...
Friend: I'm actually wearing jeans today, and a bit of makeup. Had to drop "Hub" off at the train, so ventured out to, ready-Dollar Tree and Building 19. And when I'm there, I'm thinking 'does anyone work?' because there were way too many folks in there for me.

Me: Jeans AND makeup!? Wow. Impressive. I ran errands today too! But, unlike you who gets dressed AND puts on make up (GHASP) to show face in public, I (ready?)... repeated yesterday's sweatpants... went unshowered... and makeupless... virtually braless (can a shelf-bra cami really count?) AND when I got home, I found a huge chunk of granola STUCK to my sweatshirt (which, of course, I also wore yesterday).

To boot... I actually didn't even need anything but I went to Staples because... damnit, I work and I am entitled to a Staples run here and there. So I picked up a basket with all intentions of loading it. Nearly an hour later, I walked out with a $1.47 "Will Return" sign (don't ask) and... a can of peanuts! The fact that Staples sells Peanuts fascinates me.

And today, in an amazingly unforseen and unplanned development, it came to light (via email dialogue, of course) that we are wearing the very same brand and very same style of sweatpants. Thankfully, not the same color.... nor pair.

(Its really fitting that "pants" is in my name, isn't it?)

Challenge #2 For 2008

Last week, I commented on a New York Times article regarding one man's attempt to disconnect from the world for 1 day. And, with that, a seed was planted and I was inspired enough to take it on as my 2nd challenge of the year (the 1st being no drinking which I completed with ease).

Starting on April 6th, I am going to spend 8 consecutive Sundays disconnected from the world and from all forms of entertainment/business technology, including:
- Computers including my laptop, my desktop, others' PCs, etc: No working, blogging, picture editting, NADA
- Internet(s): No computer would logically mean no Internet... except for the fact that I have an Internet enabled cell phone... so...
- Cell Phones including mine or others': No phone calls, no text/video/picture messages received or sent; phone will remain in the off position
- Telephone: No phone calls received or placed; family, there will be instructions on how to reach me in case of emergency
- Television including TV and movies: No news, no movies, no nothing. TV will remain in off position.
- Audio including radio, iPod, CDs, etc: Silence will be observed.

I would say ALL forms of technology but I don't want to pigeonhole myself away from electricity, water heater, automobile, etc. We could get literal and technical here but... that's not what I am going for.

I've picked a date nearly a month away because with Easter and a weekend trip with 14 other people planned for this month, it is unlikely that I would be successful in this challenge if I started this coming Sunday. I can't forcefeed my challenges onto others... except maybe the hub. Maybe. The difficulty is going to be in tuning out the Red Sox*. So, on days that he wants to watch the game on TV or listen to it on the radio, I'll have to make do with my time.

What will I do with my time?

READ: There are about a million books that I want to read... and I only ever read at night, before bed for a whole 20 minutes.
PLAY: Outdoor soccer starts in April so this will take up the 9am-12pm portion of most of these Sundays. And, as this will take place during Spring, there is definite inspiration to get outside, be active - run, kayak, take the dog for a walk/hike, etc.
REST: Take naps. Nuff said.
CRAFT: Assemble the 1,000+ [non-digital] pictures that are overflowing our picture box... I have numerous empty albums, crying for attention.
COOK: Learn new recipes and create some lovely concoctions.
PLANT: I am going to start a vegetable garden.

(Though it is one of my favorite pasttimes EVER, I will try my hardest to resist the urge to shop... other than the grocery store.)

*Kevin wants to voice his opinion on this matter. While he is intrigued at the concept and nearly willing to join me, he is arguing (quite convincingly) for there to be a Red Sox exception... he thinks that we owe it to the team to allow this medium into our Sundays. I said no. He is pouting.

Challenge begins April 6th.

Tuning Out...

My parting words as I delve into my sans-internet weekend...

First, read this article by Mark Bittman of the NY Times... go, read it. At least skim it. Please.

This is my favorite passage...

"On my first weekend last fall, I eagerly shut it all down on Friday night, then went to bed to read. (I chose Saturday because my rules include no television, and I had to watch the Giants on Sunday). I woke up nervous, eager for my laptop. That forbidden, I reached for the phone. No, not that either. Send a text message? No. I quickly realized that I was feeling the same way I do when the electricity goes out and, finding one appliance nonfunctional, I go immediately to the next. I was jumpy, twitchy, uneven."

...because chances are, if you are reading this, you too know exactly how this feels.

Now, turn off your phone, your radio, your television, your computer. Disconnect. Put the iPod down. And slowly... back away. Walk to the couch. Pick up the book which you've only been kind enough to read for 20 minutes every night before bed, while the TV (in the bedroom, of course) delivers the much depended on background noise. You and said book... are in need of QT, immediately.

Wishful thinking but the concept intrigues me. I wonder... if we all committed to one day per week (not necessarily the same day... just any day) without entertainment technology, what would come of the world?

make it stop!

6:29am. Sarah & Kevin lay peacefully sleeping, dreaming their last dreams of the night. Cozy in bed, all cuddled and resting. Nala lays on her doggy bed, 3 feet from the humans, having visions of chasing squirrels, unlimited cookies, and going for rides all over town. The smell of sleep (aka morning breath+dog... mmm) is in the air.

6:30am. Thought: "What in God's name... ugh, what is that noise?" Reality: Some god awful pop song is blaring in my ear and I was just having the most amazing dream about kicking ass in karaoke. Damnit.

"[Groan] Keeevvv. 6:30. Up. You."

"[Groan] Hit snooze."

Grumpily I whack the snooze button... already anticipating that 6 minutes later I'll once again be ripped from some magnificent dream, probably about American Idol and lots of money and puppies and all things yummy and entirely superficial. No really.

6:36am. Thought: "ALREADY? Damnit. I JUST fell back asleep. Bastard." Reality: The Dunkin Donuts jingle "I'm freezing at pee wee hockey... I'm freezing at pee wee hockey." (Click to be tortured.) YEA, well, I'm sleeping at sleepy sleepland so SHUT UP.

"Keevvv??? 6:36. Its time."

"Noooo. One more. I promise."

"Fine..."

Emotionless, hit snooze again and roll over. Asleep in 30 seconds flat. It is no coincidence that I now dream about watching little kids play hockey... while freezing. Seconds later...

6:42am. Thought: "UGH. Note to self. This morning show... NOT ideal to wake up to." Reality: Gio and Kim are blabbering about some reality TV show... her VOICE is going right through me (though I am a teensy bit curious to hear the gossip).

"Kev. Dude. Work? Remember? Please. GET UP."

Pause. No reply.

"[Whine] Keevvv PUHLEASE!?"

"[Groan] I am sooo comfty."

Suddenly, I'm entirely lucid...

"YEA, me too... it must be nice to have an alarm clock BUTLER. I don't have to get up till 7am. You're killing me."
(I am so dramatic and evil when woken up.)

"One more, I swear. Just one more?"
(He's pleading, now.)

"Seriously. If you do not get up on the next one... I am never waking you up again. Sleep your life away for all I care."
(Again, evil... dramatic. So sorry.)

"Well. Ok. I love you."
(Ok, he's super cute.)

"Grumble, grumble, grumble."
(I am just plain misery.)

6:49am (we lost a minute in arguing): 4th time is always a charm... er... he really has no choice as I practically KICK his butt right out of the bed. And when I've recovered from the trauma and anxiety of waking my dear husband, I curl up to resume my peaceful sleeping state.

"Ah, at last, the whole bed is mine! Sleep, you and me have a date...lets get to this..."

I then roll over to realize...

"Awesome. I have a whole 8 minutes left to sleep. UGH. What's the point?"

By the way, what kind of alarm clock has a 6 minute snooze? (Mine, thats what kind.) 9 minutes is standard. This is almost a law, right? My alarm clock company missed the memo, evifreakindently. Well, 6 minutes is hellish, let me tell you. Its just enough time to fall back into complete slumber... and with each time you snooze, you fall deeper back into sleep... and are that much more startled with each subsequent alarm... so after you snooze 4-5 times, by the 6th alarm, you are JUMPING out of bed in a fight position (intimidating all who fear pink PJ pants, tossled hair, & druel face)... SO FRUSTRATED with the last 36 minutes of your life that you now feel you need to sleep for 4 more hours.

Hope your day started better... at least a little. Maybe?

i'm coming out.

(Don't get too excited! I don't mean what you automatically assumed I meant. And sorry... for Diana Ross now blaring in your head.)

The real story. I am reinventing my blog. I've exercised my thoughts. I've overanalyzed my posts, my writing, my layout. I am ready to roll it out and actually invite others to read it.

A small glimpse into my life as a wannabe blogger... I am a writer who loves to read the work of good writers. Therefore, I'm aspiring to be a good writer... for you to enjoy reading. The topics vary but are never serious... its basically useless randomness. Capeesh?

So, welcome. There are very few people who have known about this and even fewer who ever read it (save for the parents and other obligated supporters!!). There are posts on here that date as far back as 2006 and when I thought about cleaning house and starting fresh, I could not bring myself to do it.

SO, someday... when you are bored, I hope you find some enjoyment perusing my blog, learning more about what makes me tick. Thanks for reading.

Ciao!

looking back...

Its been almost a year since I decided it was time to take hold of all that matters... to get back to what is important. Family, friends, health, etc. I decided that I was going to become the best person I could... a tall order but I was (am still) very motivated.

The motivation was fueled from frustration and relative unhappiness. When I looked at my life (as objectively as possible), it was hard to pinpoint something that could be causing me any grief... I have had it good for so long... forever, really. But, there was this deep down aching that I kept pushing away.

I was somewhat frustrated with my career, wanting a change, and that was the root of the problem, I believe. I began obsessing about that and for a short while, I lost sight of what matters most and sellfishly invested all of my effort and energy into a career, alone. That was the start of a progression into the dither... life was somewhat purposeless and I was stepping further into this a meaningless black hole.

That sounds dramatic but I mean it, really. Its not that I was suicidal by any means - its just that... I wasn't really sure what I was living for. Don't you think we need to find a purpose in life, even if its small or inconsequential or even if it changes throughout your life? Well, I am not a girl who will go through life complacent with the ebb and flow or status quo. I once had no greater ambition than to maintain happiness, to pursue self-serving dreams, to be kind to others, and to find a job that catered to this lifestyle but didn't consume me. At this point, my priorities were shifting and it was making me incredibly uncomfortable... I craved fulfillment and a sense of accomplishment.

For someone who prides herself on having her priorities in order, this short period was a total out of body experience. Why was I so obsessed with achieving and why couldn't I get my ducks in a row? I needed to get it together.

And then... it hit me. Oh shit. I am growing up.

In early spring, I finally started to get a hold of things in my life and pushed away all distractions to focus on and identify this feeling. Emptiness. Lack of meaning or purpose. Shallow. Something was most definitely off with me... the something that has always been the "it" factor, the brightness within me was suppressed. Suffocating. Dark.

I went on a bit of a soul searching mission... I was out to find that light and damn you, nothing was going to stop me.

Nearly a year later, looking at my life, I am amazed how far I've come and how fortunate I really am. I made the changes necessary in all aspects of my life. I attacked this project with intensity and I've uncovered a whole new me. But, the "it" is back. I am me. I am fixed. And, whats funny, my priorities haven't really changed much. I've just up the ante a bit. I am striving for things that I've never even reached for... personally and professionally. Balance is incredibly rewarding.