Favorite Post Secrets (:

I was going through my pictures on iPhoto trying to organize them when I came to my stash of old Post Secrets that were my favorites... I thought I'd post some of my favorite ones here because sometimes a secret can tell way more about a person than just a blog post. Enjoy! (:

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How can I say this nicely? Should I? I'm not sure anymore. I just don't understand how she can know that we're engaged and not say ANYTHING. Would it have honestly killed her to say congratulations, or that she was happy for Ethan at least? I don't have a lot of family, I'm reminded of this all the time... so I'm excited to be marrying into a rather large family. But I'm not excited about this kind of family. I know that I have friends and that we're LIKE family, but it just isn't the same. I'll never forget that I was with a friend once, who I consider family, and they made the comment to someone else that we were doing something because, "we're with family." and the person they were talking to quickly said, "no, this isn't family that's just your friend." Another reminder that no, God didn't give me a gigantic family. I have lovely friends who do an amazing job as family, but there's nothing like walking into room of your relatives. Right? Maybe I put too much emphasis on family, I don't know. I just know that tonight, I'm pretty hurt by almost everyone in E's family by how they've reacted to our engagement. This is supposed to be the happiest time of my life but it isn't. And now that I think about it, there have been very few that seem genuinely supportive and excited that I'm getting married anywhere in my life. Whatever.

Fuck you if you don't care. And chances are you probably don't and that's just fucking fine. Fuck.

...I am the tree

...

Blessed.

It's been thirteen days since I last blogged, and as I sat down to write tonight I was enveloped in this emotion that has left me almost speechless. How good is my God? I wish I could figure it out - how He manages to be so amazing, so beautiful and so perfect. I get so emotional sometimes when I sit back and think about how tiny I am; how insignificant I am compared to the world and yet here I am, He finds me worthy enough to be saved by His grace. And that really isn't all... it's more than enough but my God has done more for me. How blessed I am and how unworthy I am of all that I've been given, all that I've got to look forward to.

I wish I could spend a hundred hours blogging about my tip to New Orleans. I know I have enough detail in my mind right now, fresh and exciting memories to regurgitate and dwell over... but the only thing that matters tonight is this:

My best friend, the love of my life, my soul mate, my gift from God and my better half is now my fiance. And I get to go to sleep tonight knowing that I will spend the rest of my life with him by my side. Soon I'll be his wife, and tonight I am a blessed girl.

I Saw Her Again

Yesterday when I got home from work, I decided I would go ahead and start cleaning out the hall closet. I quickly got to work before running across a bag that contained three home videos and the biggest video recorder I had ever seen. I have been longing for home videos for awhile, assuming that they had been misplaced or thrown away over the years.

My heart started beating faster and faster, and I rummaged through the house trying to find an hold VCR. No luck. I got on WalMart.Com and found a few that were way too expensive considering how outdated they were, and then turned to Craigslist where I found a brand new one being sold by a chiropractor just a few blocks from LR. I considered it fate. One hour and a $10 later, it was mine.

I sat through class afterwards and it seemed to drag. The time was going so slowly and I was growing more and more impatient. I was so eager. I longed to see what my childhood was like because I blocked so much of it out. I was so excited to see a remnant of my family intact, pre-divorce.

I got home and we set it up. My mom was also mildly intrested, as she coudn't remember what was on the tapes.

The first one went in, and I watched as a five year old me took swim lessons at the YMCA with my sister. I was so skinny, so happy and so willing to learn. I giggled when I should have been serious. I fell in love with who I was.

The second one went in. A close up of me, about three months old being held. A voice talked to me, telling me she loved me. Telling me I was a beautiful baby. I asked my mom, "Who is that holding me?" She didn't answer. The camera zoomed out and I froze. There she was. The love of my life, the light of my darkness, the heroine that saved me time and time again. My grandmother smiled at me, she kissed my left cheek.

I wasn't prepared for this. What was I thinking? How could I not have thought, for a moment, that she would be on these tapes? She lived with us. She took care of me while my parents worked. I was so blindsided. I walked away. I wasn't ready, but I needed to be.

I came back. I sat in front of the television for probably four hours. I watched each tape beginning to end; pausing, stopping, crying, playing, laughing...remembering.

I had forgotten her voice. Her smile. Her glasses. Her walk. Memories came flooding back to me, enveloping me in a hurricane of sadness, joy and resentment. I thought about how lucky I was to have had her, how mad I was at God for taking her from me so soon and how my own children would never know her love.

I could blog about her for days, months... I could write about the happy things in the video, how silly of a kid I don't remember being... instead I will stop and reflect on the fact that nothing in this world could have prepared me for seeing my grandmother for the first time in almost 8 years. I don't think I could put a price on how lucky I feel, how blessed I am or how completely moved I have been by finding something so simple, yet so very, very important.

An Organized Home Is An Organized Life

I feel so slack. It is the 27th of July and I've only had six blog posts, counting this one. I'm not sure if it's due to an apathy towards writing or because I've been so busy... perhaps it is a combination of both.

I know, without a doubt, that if I would have felt like it, I would have blogged on Sunday about my exhausting yet extremely productive Saturday.

I had decided earlier in the previous week that the weekend (last weekend) was going to be the most productive weekend of my life. I had a schedule written out that detailed what I was going to do hour-by-hour for a full three day weekend... the schedule lasted all of about five hours before I got so mad that I was "running behind" and crumpled the damn thing up. I rationalized that if I was the one that made the schedule, I could also be the one to get rid of it.

The main reason it didn't work was that I had allotted two hours to clean my bathroom. Now, some naiive person who has never seen my bathroom would probably gasp at the thought of having to allocate 120 mintues to clean a small-ish room, but allow me to explain...

This bathroom is huge. It's got a double sink with two huge cabinets, one under each sink, a decently sized closet and a nice jet tub. This isn't a typical bathroom for a 20 year old living at home but I rarely complain about the amenities. I wish, with everything in my heart, that I would have thought to take "before" pictures of this bathroom. In the closet, there were three shelves and a floor PILED in bottles, containers, papers, books, clothes and other artifacts circa 1987. There were literally items in this closet that had been in there prior to my birth and never touched. Under the sinks? The same thing... medicines, lotions, spilled powders... you name it, it was in these cabinets. The shower/tub was gross because, as I finally forced myself to scrub it and clean it, I realized the ledge on the wall was lower than the tub itself so water couldn't drain properly causing it to be disgusting. The sinks were clogged (I had rather long hair before yesteday), the shower drain was stopped up and the toiled was in need of some cleaning, too. I'm not typically a dirty person, I swear. But I get overwhelmed easily. So easily in fact that I have managed to "facade" clean this bathroom before company comes over, minus Ethan because he comes over too much for me to fakely clean it.

But Saturday was the day. I literally spent five hours in that bathroom. By the end of the day, I had an odd red rash on my arms from the chemicals, a headache from the fumes and an increasingly aching back. But it was so worth it. I ended up with three trash bags full of decades worth of junk, (you can't see the third bag):



But in the end I had an organized closet, whose floor could be seen for the first time in years:



A sparkling tub complete with new floor sticky things and candles, along with impeccably clean jets and shower head:




And an over-all glow that makes me not even want to use this bathroom out of fear that it might return to it's previous state:



So after the hours it took to clean this bathroom, I decided that the only logical thing to do was clean my room, too. I'm pretty sure that it's impossible for me to keep my room clean and organized for longer than a week, but I'm determined to try. For me to be so OCD, my room and bathroom are in complete chaos 90% of the time. Here's an embarrassing before picture of what my room looked like prior to the 6 hours I spent cleaning it:



I look at that room and I am immediately stressed out. I once read that a cluttered house is terrible for stress, and that the cleaner your living environment, the cleaner your life is. The more organized our house is, the more organized you are. I wholeheartedly agree with this sentiment. When my room is a wreck, I avoid and it gets worse. I get irritated and it just leads to an overall sense of unpleasantness. I've decided that my goal is to de-clutter the entire house before Christmas. At times I resent that it has to be my goal instead of my mom's goal. She says she's overwhelmed and that she's not the one that created the clutter...and she's about 50% correct. This was her grandmother's house and then her mom's house... their things are still stored away, their junk that they shoved into every nook they could find still resides in their temporary homes. Well, the time has come that someone break the cycle and if she refuses, I'll do it myself.

I didn't take an after picture of my room because technically, it isn't done yet. I still have these boxes to go through:


Along with all my clothes that are currently sorted into laundry baskets in the hall way. I supposed that since they had all been chilling on my floor, it would be better to have them all washed. That'll be done this week. After that I need to dust and swiffer, but it'll only take about an hour before it looks like it should.

For the rest of the week I'll be finishing my room and then Wednesday, I'm on to my next task. I've decided it's the hallway closet. My mom has mentioned doing it herself but that'll probably happen when pigs begin flying. The goal is to throw out 75% of what's in there, box up another 10%, put the remaining 15% where it belongs and then have the majority of the space as free storage. My fear is that after it's cleaned, it will be the new "spot" to put things when someone can't find a place to put it where it should actually go.

The closet is atrocious, to be honest. It's got more stuff in there than most walk-in closets you find in master bedrooms. Pictures, cards, letters, clothes, linens... all of them collected over the last 50 years. You open the door and it's completely packed, wall to wall. It'll probably take hours to sort through everything but it'll be worth it.

My next project will start after I get back from New Orleans (which we leave for in ONE week!!!) is going to start on the day after we come back, in the afternoon and I'll finish it in three days. The laundry room is the room that NO company is every allowed to see. You would think we were hiding dead bodies inside of it. If, for any reason, one would need inside this room while someone was over, you literally have to do this, "Open the door only has far as needed, while squeezing yourself in backwards in order to hide the mess without turning the light on and then shutting it as fast as possible" dance. Ridiculous. As much as I'm not looking forward to this, I AM looking forward to this. It's like an OCD Organizer's worst nightmare and dream come true all in one. The possibilities are endless... I do think I'll paint it with some of the left over paint from the hallway...this could get interesting!

Beautiful Life

Wednesday afternoon I sat in my car at the hospital in Conover and I cried. No, not the kind of crying that makes you sick or the kind that makes you look like an absolute crazy person, but the kind that humbles you. The kind of crying that makes you realize how small of a person you are compared to the rest of the world. The kind of crying that makes you realize that on some level, every human being is connected someway; we all cry.

I had just left room 221 where one of my best friend's was recovering after giving birth the previous afternoon. Less than a day old, I held Valerie Paige for the first time. I looked down at her, all bundled up, and I was overcome with emotion. She was beautiful. And it wasn't just the "beautiful-because-I-know-the-mom" beautiful. I was staring at the God's most perfect design in one of the most precious forms.

Valerie's dad, who is probably the most proud new father that I have ever seen in my life, immediately whipped out his phone as I began to say how beautiful she is. He clicked on a video, and with little warning, I saw baby Valerie being whisked up from where she had made her grand entrance, and into her mom's arms. She wasn't clean yet, she was screaming like nothing I've ever heard and I lost it. It was the most beautiful video I have ever watched. I saw Mary Beth go from the sarcastic but lovably hardass woman to the most amazing mother in the world, tears in her eyes meeting the love of her life for the first time. I held Valerie for a little while longer, talked to the new parents and then gave her back to dad. I didn't want to stay too long.

I got to my car and a flood of emotions just hit. Where did the time go? My two best girlfriends were now moms. Keaton is a year old now and Valerie is a few days old, but both of my best friends now have kids. We're growing up. Yes, they both had them young so it isn't like I'm behind on popping out babies, but it just put into perspective. Out of the three of us, I'm next.

This probably sounds ridiculous and off topic, but I sort of began to think about Harry Potter after that. When I watched the last movie, I was so sad. "This is it," I thought. Many have said that it seemed like the end of the last movie ended their childhood. For my generation, or perhaps for my graduating class and the ones near it, we grew up with these books and movies. Now it's over and along with that, one of the most important parts of our childhood is over as well.

I'm growing up and it's breaking my heart but it's exciting to me at the same time. Instead of looking forward to spring break because we don't have homework, or to midnight premiers to see a trio of wizards, I'm looking forward to Keaton's second birthday. I'm looking forward to hold Valerie while talking to my best friend about her new life. I'm excited over baby clothes instead of my own clothes. Instead of getting invites for sweet 16s, I'm being invited to weddings and showers.

It's a beautiful life I'm living... at times I miss the 5 year old me that used to play outside until it was dark. We had to come inside once night fell but my sister and I would convince each other that it wasn't quite dark yet... the moon was bright, right? Maybe we could convince our mom that we mistook it for the sun...
...ut I wouldn't trade where I'm at right now for the world <3