A coffee transition

So, it has been 4 days since I have been back full time in Rochester.

And this morning? I was reminded that this is an adjustment that will take some time.

Background information: I drink coffee. Like it's going out of business.  Especially when I'm applying for jobs.  It's what gets me through my day.  I have a cup of coffee close to me, or at least sort of close to me, all morning.  So, there is always coffee in my house (or my old apt, or whatever).

As I have a slight coffee problem, the first thing I bought at Wegmans, was coffee.  I grind my coffee at the store, because well... I've never had a coffee grinder at my house to buy the beans and not grind them at the store.

My dad? He has a coffee grinder.  I should know. I bought it for him.  So when he buys coffee at the store and brings it home? It looks like this:

These are coffee beans.  They are not ground yet.

When I buy coffee? It looks like this:

Already ground. Ready to be brewed.

And so, imagine my surprise, when this morning, I woke up, took some time coming downstairs (because hey, the only thing on my schedule was to hang at the pool and increase my tan lines), and the bag of coffee that I had bought and ground at the store on Sunday, looked more like this:

Yes. That's right. My dad had combined my ground coffee, with his coffee beans.  To save space or who knows. But now I need a sifter. 

Jokes on him though, I don't buy the same kind he does. 

Just a little taste of adjustment. 

But seriously.  Don't mess with my coffee. 

An all day brunch affair

This past weekend I had the wonderful pleasure of spending Sunday with two of my favorite Albany ladies.

We had brunch scheduled for 1 PM.

Yes. Those are waffles. Stuffed with bacon.  Jealousy? Totally normal.

By 5 PM, we decided dinner must be included.

((Don't get me wrong, I've had many a long day full of brunch.  MANY. But this one? Epic))

 And then? We would be the 3 girls going to see The Avengers at 8:30 PM. Please take note that this made brunch an all day, all night, multi-part affair. (side note: the movie? WAS AWESOME. Even if you haven't seen all the others to lead up to who the superheroes are.  Random thought: Why did Scar-Jo's semi automatic handgun never. ever. ever. ever. run out of ammo?!)

These ladies, we'll call them LJ and CW (because hey, we're pulling the initials back for this one. Get off me.) made me not only laugh my way through almost 12 hours, but reminded me of all the wonderful people that I have met and become friends with along the way on this crazy 518 journey.

They have reminded me that not only am I going to rock this transition back to the 585, but that if people aren't ok with who I have become, it's a "you problem." (Ok, maybe that was JD, but still).

I believe this sums it up best.  "I guess some people don't like me... I just don't really get it."

So, to my favorite Sunday brunchers, whether it was brunch part 1, 2, 2a, or 3.  You ladies are wonders.  For my heart, my soul, and my laughter. And don't worry. I like all of us.

Actually? It's more of a love.

The Week of Waterproof Mascara

SO, it's Friday. And I move in 8 days.

And I have procrastinated in saying goodbyes to people quite effectively over the past couple of days.  However, tomorrow that all changes.

Welcome to the week of Waterproof Mascara!

Thank heavens I have plenty... because I'm obviously procrastinating in packing too.

Yea. Moving and goodbyes.  I've always been good at them.

...Right.

Here.  Goes.  Nothing.

Because it's Friday. And because job searching can be frustrating.

Because it's Friday, and because it's just craziness to always be searching for jobs, I give to you... a fabulous picture for how I feel about job searching.

Class of 2012.  You're welcome.  

I got some good advice this week.  Advice that if I hadn't asked for it from someone who wasn't my supervisor, I would be totally freaking out.  

Go into an interview knowing and being ok with not knowing everything.  Ask good questions.  Be interested and present.  School won't teach you everything, but it has given you a good base.  Be willing to learn, and willing to engage.  Tone yourself down (maybe that's just for me, ha!), but bring your personality.  

Trust your gut, and you'll be fine.  

Here's hoping!

Love forever, family always, strength together.

The unexpected phone calls.

You know, the ones that change life that you knew?

The changes that grip your heart and soul.  The grief, the tears, the longing, the aches.

A little more than one month ago, my cousin, Jaime, passed away unexpectedly.  She was 33.  She had a family, and a little boy, a loving fiance, and a system and collection of friends, and friends that were family, as far as anyone could ever wish to have.

In a world that doesn't seem fair, she was taken too soon.  There are no words that anyone has been able to come up with that seem to comfort those that are left behind.  There is nothing that can make this make sense.  It is shocking.  Jarring.  And unfair.

I had to write a paper this semester about a memorial service for a grief and loss class that I am taking.  I wrote about you, Jaime.  And it was hard.  But I shared it with the class, and now, I am going to share it here.  Or at least, the parts that make sense to share.  Because while it doesn't seem "fair" or "right" that we are all still here, left to go on without you, it is the task we are faced with and given.

"....Due to the unexpected nature of Jaime’s death, it doesn’t feel as though my personal grief has truly begun.  While it was great to have our entire family, including many family members from out of town able to be present for the services, the common theme and the common sentiment was that everyone was still primarily in shock.  It didn’t feel real.  It didn’t seem as though it was truly Jaime laying in the casket that was before me.

       ...As a person who is also actively participating in the grief and loss process currently, it seems as though these services provided a way for me to begin the grieving process.  However, now that it is almost 2 weeks later, the 3 days of calling hours and funeral services, seem to be a blur.  I remember them, but it feels as though it was a dissociative moment, as though I was going through the motions, but that it wasn’t truly happening.  The act of going through the motions truly presented a grasp on the concepts of traumatic grief, as there were no opportunities to say goodbye, no closure on a relationship other than that the person whom you shared a relationship with, is no longer present.
Traumatic grief services provide a chance to come together.  But I feel like it is, at least for myself, such a beginning point in the grieving process that it is more customary than healing.  No one wants to be there, because it is unexpected.  The real work and the real grief comes later.  The breakdown.  The longing.  The deep feelings of loss.  The emptiness.  The sadness.  The day to day living with grief.  The day to day actions of moving forward, with an emptiness inside. The lack of closure.  And I am not sure there is a ceremony or service, no matter the readings, the involvement, that can change that. "


We are all missing you, Jaime.  Every day.  But we will continue on for you, because we have to.  Because we are strong, and that is what you would want.  Love forever, family always, strength together. <3 Love.

The importance of being where you are. The moment.

Being a social work student has taught me plenty.  What interventions to use with specific clients. How to evaluate them. How to research. How to be unconditionally present.  How to meet clients where they are, instead of where I (as a clinician) may want them to be.

But this semester? In a class around the topic of grief and loss? I learned how to sit with my own feelings.  To be ok (or begin to be ok) with them.

Because it is not just being able to be ok sitting with clients and their feelings, it's important to be able to as an individual, be able to sit with our own.

It is so often that I think that because I have been trained in specific skills that I should have all the answers.  That I should be able to handle every situation thrown in my direction with perfection and the "right" ways.  It's a lie.

Learning to be ok with where I am as an individual, social worker or not, has been a great new way to be able to look at my life, and look at the decisions that I am very quickly going to be needing to make.

It's ok to be sad.  It's ok to grieve the end of something that I thought I was ready for.  It's ok to be happy, to continue living.  To continue growing.  To continue to make choices and decisions because without them, you are stagnant. Unchanging. Because without making a decision, you are, in fact, choosing.

And what fun is a world in which you are unable to change?

It is the lesson I am most thankful for.  Learning to be OK with where I am.  To accept it.  And to keep plugging along, whether the days are smooth like a lake in the morning, or challenging and scary... a day in which your footing just isn't always sure.

It's life.  And if I can't accept and be OK with where I am, how can I expect others to be just as OK with where I am?  Being where you are. In the present. In the moment.  Living.

The true warriors.

It has been almost 3 weeks since I have decided to not only be the event organizer, but to be a shavee this year for St. Baldrick's Albany 2012.

This decision did not come lightly. For too long, there has always been an excuse. Always been a ready reason to not participate in such a way that is the basis of this amazing event. A wedding. A vacation. A job. A request. This is the year for me to get rid of them all. To answer only to myself the question of "Why not?"

There have been some people have asked me whether or not I have really "thought it through."

My answer to them has and will always, remain the same. "Hair grows back. It's for the kids. I'm only shaving my head. THEY are the true warriors."

But then?

I get emails. And Facebook posts. And texts. And messages. And blog posts by cousins, or best friends from far away who are helping me to spread the word of this foundation.

And their words are inspiring. They are uplifting. They are encouraging. They are supportive.

They often make me cry as I sit and read them, as I smile and ask myself how it is that I got to be as lucky as I am to have the supportive friends and family around me that I do.

I have parents who love and support me. I have friends and family members who are Facebook blasting my fundraising page in order to continue to spread the word. And for them? There are not enough words to say thank you over the past 3 weeks.

And I have the honor of being able to spread the stories of those children whom I know, or have known, who have fought or are fighting the beast that is pediatric cancers. It is these stories of the families who have allowed me to shave my head in honor of their children that truly are uplifting and amazing.

And it is these families and children that I am so thankful to have known for even just a moment throughout their battle.

When you think about that, their battles?

Hair doesn't seem like much to give at all.

Decisions, decisions

The first full week of 2012 has brought a lot of decisions.

Or changes.

Not changes in me, but changes in the way that I am approaching my life.

You could say that well.... I have hit the point of making choices because I have not much left to lose, and therefore, everything to gain.

It's been a week of firsts, easy and the most difficult.

Let's just cut to the chase, shall we?

I decided to shave my head.

Yes. You read that correctly.

The action that I have been talking about for 4 years is finally happening. I'm shaving my head for St. Baldrick's this year. I announced it on Thursday and have been given nothing but support from friends that surprised me. From friends that I knew would be there, and from people who have come out of the woodwork. I am shocked. I am surprised. I am thrilled.

And I am exhilirated.

I cannot wait until the day will come that I will become a shavee for this great organization. I have organized for years. I have participated as an event organizer. I have cheered, raised money, spread the word, and supported others.

And now it's my turn. To face the clippers. To support the kids and families who have changed my life. To become part of the team and community that I love so much.

People have said that they are proud of me. That I should not be ashamed of being bald. That they are impressed. And to that, I ask and say, it's not me that you should be proud or impressed of (but I'm excited you are, because well, that means you should donate to this awesome cause!!). This is not something that I am ashamed of.

It is something that I am excited to do. It is something that I have talked about for so long, but have had an excuse each year. The excuses, my friends? Are over.

So when the details keep coming, I hope you will support this great cause. I have meetings this week, and should have the website up by Wednesday.

I am so excited, and I hope that my journey will excite you all as well.

Something to live for. Something to breathe for. Something to care for. A cause and a group to love. And an event that has invigorated me each year that I have participated. I can only imagine what the Albany St. Baldrick's 2012 event has in store.

And? I am so, so excited!!

^^^^ The curly hair. Pre-shave.^^^^

Or, well, a couple weeks ago!

A tale of 2.

This blog post brought to you by the good people at the wine store. (And girlfriends, of course).

As I was driving home tonight, I was thinking over a conversation that my girlfriend and I had at dinner. A conversation about guys, life, relationships, work, and well... growing up and trying to make it work. A conversation about being ourselves and finding someone who understood that at the end of the day.... And it got me thinking.

I am sarcastic...

... because it's easy, and it's a wall.

I have walls...

... for protection from those around me.

I smile and laugh...

... when crying would be easier.

I'm a little crazy...

... because it's more fun that way.

I am strong...

... because that is my option.

I have dreams and goals...

... because I want more for myself.

I want to work with kids...

... because there is always hope.

I stand up for what I believe in...

... even when it's not popular.

I fight...

... because I have passion.

I get offended...

... because I know what I want & what I deserve.

I know how I should be treated...

... so it's what I expect.

I know how to treat others...

... so that's what I do.

I look to my grandparents (and parents)

love and devotion...

... and know it must be out there for me.

I love...

... even with the risk of getting hurt.

I trust...

... when I sometimes shouldn't.

I believe...

... because I know that love exists and endures.

It doesn't make coming home to an empty apartment much easier though. Sometimes? It's nice to have a hand to hold while going through the difficult parts in life.

Martina McBride has a new song, called "I'm gonna love you through it," and while it's a song about a woman who is just diagnosed with breast cancer and her husbands statement that he will always be there, these lyrics bring tears to my eyes every time. It is a song like this, that makes me remember my mom's words to me as well, "Someday, there will be a man who will accept and love all of you. He will be strong enough to handle everything you bring to the table." -Here's hoping, Mom!

When you're weak, I'll be strong

When you let go, I'll hold on

When you need to cry, I swear that I'll be there to dry your eyes

When you get lost, scared to death

Like you cant take one more step

Just take my hand, together we can do it

I'm gonna love you through it

So, if you made it this far?

I think after Christmas? It's time for a pet.

Starbucks Gratitude

So, as I am sitting here at Starbucks (it must be the end of the semester) writing papers, sipping quietly out of my holiday red cup, listening to my Pandora stations, I am struck by how the holidays change people.

People aren't angry to be standing in line, waiting for their caffeine jolt. They are smiling. They are talking to the ones around them. There are kids bringing their baristas presents.

And they are happy.

And that, my friends, is what the holidays are all about. Smiling at those around you. Trying to make someone elses' day just a little bit better, because well.... you can. Paying for someone elses' coffee because it's the holiday spirit. Slowing down just a bit during this ever so hectic season to look up and see what's going on around you.

And being thankful for it.

Sap post. Get over it. :)

((This last paper is due tomorrow. Which means there will be plenty of new blogs in the next couple of weeks. But seriously? I can only write so much.))

Do something nice for someone today. Smile. Hold the door.

It's the holidays.