Resolute

Every year when January 1st rolls around, half of the world sits down to write a list of lofty goals and aspirations while the other half makes snarky comments about why resolutions are impractical and ineffective. I do tend to agree with the New Year's naysayers who argue that we should be making strides toward perfection more than just once a year, but I still think that this season is as good a time as any to reflect, reassess, and think about the person I'd like to be in the next 365 days. This time around, I've actually been thinking about my resolutions for a few months, noting certain habits that I'd like to break and others that I'd like to pick up. Sure, I have plenty of goals for 2012: keep running, read more books, get more sleep, all the usual. These five, though, took a bit more thought, and will hopefully represent a tough but worthwhile challenge in the coming months. 

1. As much as I hate to admit it, I am one of those people who is sometimes instructed by family to arrive at 7 for a 7:30 event. I am a chronic running-out-of-the-house, cringing-as-I-watch-the-clock-in-the-car latecomer, always 15 minutes behind and always feeling guilty for my tardiness. This year, though, I am determined to figure out what it takes to get me out the door on time and to my destination when I am expected. I know this is going to take a lot of effort, but I am just so tired of running behind schedule and the stress and guilt that comes along with always being late. 

2. This year I feel like I've been especially terrible at answering texts, responding to facebook messages in a timely manner, sending cards, and generally corresponding consistently with friends. I felt a pang of guilt each time we received a Christmas card this holiday season, knowing that even though my hubby came home early, we never got our own cards made and mailed. Next year, I am hoping to stay in much closer touch with the friends and family who mean so much to me. Having a husband in the army has helped me learn to love writing cards, and I firmly believe that finding a handwritten note tucked among the bills, catalogues, and junk mail in the mailbox is enough to make your day. Thank goodness for people like my grandmother and certain friends who still send these on a regular basis -- this year, I'll be taking a page out of their book and putting the postal service to work a bit.

3. I am typically a pretty healthy eater -- I like salads and veggies and try hard to keep my portion sizes reasonable and take it easy on the desserts. I certainly have a few guilty pleasures (iced coffee, red wine, those guys Ben and Jerry and their darn ice cream...), but I limit my indulgences and try to balance them out with lots of healthy meals. The challenge, I've noticed recently, comes when healthy eating gets tough -- sure, when it's as easy as ordering a salad vs. a burger off a menu I am pretty consistent, but when it comes to whipping up a healthy breakfast vs. grabbing a pop tart, I don't always make the right choice. When dinner time rolls around and I'm exhausted from a day at work and the gym, a pot of pasta is just so much easier than chopping up a bunch of vegetables to saute. This year, I want to work on eating the way I know I should all the time, even when it's inconvenient or challenging. If this means prepping food ahead so that I can just throw it in a pan or pop it in the oven, I'm going to work on that. If it means making my own meal when my darling-husband-who-never-gains-a-pound wants to stop for fast food, so be it. There are certain things I won't be giving up (see aforementioned coffee, wine, and Phish Food), but I am hoping to make this a year of more consistent good decisions, even when they are a bit tough to make.

4. Despite what my dear hubby might claim, I am a pretty decent driver. I have never had an accident and can boast only one speeding ticket (thanks, Mr. State Trooper, for making me cry over 12 measly mph), can parallel park (most days) and am comfortable driving even in questionable weather conditions. The problem I've noticed lately, however, is that I have become a slightly less alert driver than I was several years ago when I was new to the road. I'm certainly not one of those people who drives by texting on their phone, eating a sandwich, and fixing their makeup all at once. I do sometimes make calls while I drive, but I do not text while moving or blow dry my hair or become deeply engrossed in the buttons on my stereo, as I often see from fellow drivers. In short, I do watch the road... but I am not always paying as much attention as I should. I do my best thinking while driving, especially on long car trips, which sometimes leaves me less than focused on my true priority: getting myself to my destination in one piece. This year, I pledge to not only look at the road when I drive, but to really watch it.

5.My fifth and final resolution is something I say I will change every year, but it has yet to happen. I am by nature a worrier: I stress over everything, hold myself to an incredibly (and at times impossibly) high standard, and constantly compare myself to those around me. Not only do these traits exhaust my poor husband's last nerves, they often leave me exhausted, upset, or disappointed in myself for no real reason. My constant stress rarely helps any situation -- I spend most of my time frazzled and distracted, worried too much about what people think of me than how I actually feel. There are so many times that I could actually enjoy the people around me if only I could stop getting so caught up in trying to make myself and everything I do flawless. Dinner parties would still be lots of fun even if the food and decorations weren't magazine-worthy, date nights would still be exciting even if my hair wasn't absolutely perfect. So this year, I am absolutely determined to relax more often, let go of the impulse to stress over everything until it is just right, and let things be. I am going to stop wasting time and emotion comparing myself to everyone else, and invest those resources into enjoying myself and being happy. I am going to listen to my own advice: any friend who doesn't accept you for exactly who you are is not a friend worth having. I am going to work on embracing my own imperfections (those that I can't change, at least) and spend less time worrying and more time having fun, making wonderful (if imperfect) memories. Bring it on, 2012 -- I am going to enjoy you no matter what, damn it.

Happy New Year everyone! Whether you are a resolution-maker or a resolution-pooh-pooh-er... may 2012 be one to remember!

 

   Love,

    Meg

24 Years

As of this morning yesterday (these things take time), I've officially been hanging around this lovely planet for 24 years. Some days I wonder if I have much to show for those 8767 and a half days, but looking back (birthdays are good for inducing nostalgia) I know that I've learned quite a bit from all of these trips around the sun. Today seemed like as good a time as any to share
1. There are very few problems that a well-timed peppermint mocha, pedicure, or hug can't help solve.
2. People are always going to tell you "these are the best years of your life!" High school, college, your twenties, your fifties... everyone wants to tell you that your prime is right-this-very-minute and don't you dare waste it. Don't stress too much: in truth, the years keep getting better. If you spend too much time worrying about enjoying the moment, it will be gone.
3. No matter how many master's degrees you've earned, all it takes is one "alot" or misplaced apostrophe to assure peers that your IQ is roughly equivalent to that of a rather slow goat. Knowing basic grammar rules and following them carefully can get you far in life.
4. You are never too mature to channel your inner four year old.
5. A glass bottle of wine and a great friend or two are often much more effective (and far less expensive) than professional therapy.
6. Take the time to learn what makes you happy, and whatever it is, do it. Often. Never apologize for it or make compromises. Do it.
7. Everyone should live alone for a little while. As much as I miss my husband right now, I've discovered so much about my own schedule, needs, and preferences. I know that this time alone will help me live more comfortably when he comes home.
8. There are certain things on which you should always be willing to splurge: clothes that make you feel beautiful, quality education, a comfortable bed, your family's health, and the perfect gift for someone else.
9. Technology can be a blessing and a curse. Unplug often enough to appreciate the incredible things it can do for you, but never make the mistake of missing real life because you're stuck behind the screen of a computer. Google will never manufacture love, sunshine, or sleep.
10. Life is all about the little things, so pay attention: they fly by pretty quickly.                                                  
11. Losing weight is never a continuous trajectory of numbers on the scale. It's a bumpy ride, and some weeks you're going to gain weight no matter what you do. There's always next week.
12. Alone time is absolutely essential for sanity. Do whatever it takes to spend some time in your own mind each week -- you never know what you might find.
13. Never underestimate the power of another species to love and care for you. A meow or a woof can express a lot more than words.
14. The cleaner your life, the easier it is to live. Clearing out the clutter in your house/office/car can do wonders for the cobwebs in your head.
15. Hard work is one of the best things you can do for your self-esteem. Tackling a challenge head on and sticking with it until you succeed teaches you things you never knew about your limits and how far they really stretch.
16. Running is 25% physical and 75% mental. Your legs can be fully capable of running a race, but if you don't think you'll get to the finish line, you absolutely won't. 
17. That guy you married probably isn't the one you dreamed of as a kid, the one you imagined and hoped for, the one you saw yourself growing old with..... he's better.
18. Your best investment really is yourself. Save, save, and save some more -- you will thank yourself one day.
19. Maintaining a good friendship takes hard work and sacrifice, but any friend who is worth it will always reciprocate.
20. It's never too late to say "I love you" or "I'm sorry." Or "More dessert please."
21. Sometimes you just have to let go of the perfectionism, the pressure, and the demands. Give yourself a break, go a little crazy, do something for you. Those deadlines will still be there when you get back.
22. People change. Sometimes they grow in a different direction, they disappoint, they let you down. It hurts, but you have to recognize when it's time to let go. On the other hand, someone you never expected might turn out to be just what you need the most. Never allow yourself to be so hurt that you can't still be pleasantly surprised.
23. Speaking of surprises: always surprise yourself. Push your boundaries, try new things, keep yourself on your toes. If nothing else, it makes life interesting.
24. Remember that things always gets better. The lows are the worst and can seem neverending, but if you keep fighting through it, you'll eventually make it out the other side. No matter what happens, never give up on yourself.


Here's to another year of living, loving, and learning.
And since I started writing this two days ago and it's now Thanksgiving, I hope that you all have a wonderful Turkey day! Enjoy all the time with family, friends, and yummy food!

   
   Love,

    Meg

Friday Favorites: Wonderful Person Edition

I feel like I may owe today a thank you note for finally getting its butt in motion and showing up. Not like I've been waiting for it all week or anything.

It has been one heck of a week (see: all the fun I had on Monday and Tuesday, followed by a really wonderful cold), so if ever a weekend has been earned, I think it's this one. I have lots of exciting plans to sleep, drink hot liquids, stick close to my couch, buy stock in Kleenex, and not cough up a lung. And maaaaaybe (please don't tell my mom) a Christmas movie or two... all in the name of feeling better, right? I could use a little holiday cheer in my life right now.
Luckily, despite the abundance of ick in my week, it was also filled with just enough wonderful to even things out. This particular week, wonderful seemed to come in human form (ok, ok... and maybe in the form of half a dozen donuts. oops.) Throughout the little rough patch of the past few weeks months, the phrase "you find out who your friends are" has really rung true. Unfortunately, there have been a handful of people who have proven... less than supportive. Luckily, it goes both ways though: other amazing people have truly left me speechless with their constant love and willingness to listen, distract, feed, coach, or just sit there and listen to me cry. While I've been hurt by the silence of a few in my life, the holes they left have been more than filled by some truly wonderful people. Since we're sneaking up on my favorite holiday and all, it seems like a good time to give a little thanks for those people. There's no way to mention everyone, but here are a few of the highlights:

this is one of my very favorite pictures EVER. I promise I had on clothes.

This beautiful lady found time in her incredibly busy first-year-teacher schedule to come spend last weekend with me. M is the kind of friend who shows up with pumpkin spice donut holes, doesn't blink an eye when you ask her to go with you to visit your sick father, and makes you laugh even when life really isn't funny (otherwise known as: the best kind of friend). We had a fantastic time talking about weddings (!), sharing cheese fries, admiring this guy, and laughing until we cried over this gem. I am so so very lucky to have this girl in my life.

My mom has always born a striking resemblance to superwoman, but these days when I have needed it the most, she has kicked it into high gear. She has taken me out to dinner three nights in the past week (once with two of her best friends, who are truly some of the nicest ladies I know), refilled my wine glass or coffee mug countless times, and spent hours listening as I talked my way through emotions and stress. She never complains when I call her daily (sometimes more) and always makes time to answer my basic cooking questions, provide advice that is always right in the end, or just laugh at my latest crazy cat story. It is no great surprise that the voice of reason in my head sounds an awful lot like her. I am not exaggerating one bit when I say that I don't know what I would do without her to keep me from going insane, becoming a hermit, burning down my apartment building, or a myriad of other awful things.

Not many people can honestly say that they have awesome coworkers. Even though some most mornings, getting out of bed is a painful process, I am incredibly lucky to get to spend my days with the people I do. The other half of my two-person department, especially, is a wonderfully spunky and sweet lady who has become a confidante, friend, and partner-in-crime. She has me in stitches multiple times a day, and I cannot count the number of trivial stories I have been halfway through telling when I realize that she has no reason to care, but she always listens anyway. She also chased me out of the building at 1:00 yesterday when she couldn't listen to me cough a minute longer, with strict instructions to make myself tea and go to bed. Which I absolutely did... after purchasing the aformentioned donuts.

this picture has nothing to do with anything... but really, who doesn't need a little more wrinkled cuteness in their life?

A large group of people I am thankful for today share no common bond or connection, besides the fact that I don't actually know them at all. They include the guy at the seafood counter in Harris Teeter, who is always smiling; the random whiz who posted on a cell phone blog and helped me fix my phone; the wonderful vet tech who clipped my furballs claws even as he slithered off the counter to escape; the guy who understood my barking this morning as "grande skinny peppermint mocha." They include whichever neighbor had a fire yesterday evening and filled the street with that wonderful fall smell, and the one who didn't laugh at me when I attempted the elliptical today and had to give up after less than 10 minutes. They include Terry Gross, who consistently makes an hour at the gym the most interesting hour of my day, and David Crane and Marta Kaufmann, who created a show that I can watch a million times (and have) and never once get sick of it. And they include all of you wonderful bloggers out there, who share love stories and recipes, workout tips and adorable baby pictures, exiting news and everyday moments. Your words always keep me going.

And of course no post about wonderful people would be complete without a mention of this guy. I am incredibly lucky to have a husband who can make me laugh from halfway around the world, checks in on my father constantly, and puts up with all of my quirks. I finally printed out some pictures from our mini-wedding to frame, and I love having his face around the apartment a little more. Now if only his actual face could be here....


Happy weekend, everyone! Hope it is filled with equally wonderful people.

   Love,

    Meg

Things You Learn

When life gets overwhelming, it's easier to rush blindly through the day, checking off tasks, getting things done, firing on autopilot. If you don't take the time to slow down, you find you can avoid all the messy emotions that make things difficult, brushing past the loneliness and worry and dread in a focused effort just to get through another 24 hours. Days once anticipated for their possibilities, now reduced to a string of responsibility: work, run, shower, sit at the hospital, stop by the store, eat whatever is in the front of the fridge. And somewhere in between, you sleep. When there are too many things to do than fit easily into the daylight, you stay up as long as it takes, visiting the treadmill in the middle of the night, answering emails after that. When days are empty, you fill them with naps. But first, you turn on a movie to occupy those last few moments, so thoughts won't have the opportunity to crowd in and delay the blissful silence of sleep. 

After a while, you get to be really efficient in denial, finding that each time someone asks, (on the rare occasion that the question is not "How is someone-close-to-you?" but "How are you?") the "fine" sounds a little more convincing. And even though you're not sure how you could be, there are moments when you believe that you are. If you can just keep your head down, do what needs to be done, and outpace the shadows that are constantly at your heels, maybe one morning you'll wake up to find everything fixed. Surely those flashes of pain that reach up out of nowhere to trip you can't continue forever. They wouldn't make all those promises about a light at the end of the tunnel if there wasn't really an end, much less a light.

So days become weeks and life blurs by, until without warning something unexpected makes you smile, and the movement feels foreign. You think back and try hard to remember the last time you laughed without it being forced, how long it's been since something got past that sturdy little wall you've so painstakingly built. That wall that you suddenly realize keeps out the good just as effectively as the bad. And before you know it, you are choked with laughter over something that is not even remotely funny, just because it feels raw and honest and right.

Then inevitably you encounter a few hours for which nothing is planned and nothing is required, and you get a little nervous. But you take a chance and ask yourself, for the first time in a long time, "What would I like to do?" And whether the answer is get out and just drive, clean out the closet, play some great music and dance around with the cat, or sink into a warm bath, you don't question it... you just do. You stop for ice cream and you run in the rain, you buy a candle that smells like fall and you take it home and light it, taking time to notice how it warms the room with a glow that is at once thrilling and comforting. 

At night, you turn off the TV, turn off the light, and lie there. In the few minutes before sleep comes, you finally have no choice but to be honest with yourself. Honest that things aren't okay, honest that you're not okay. Honest that it hurts, and that it's probably going to get worse before it gets better. Honest that you have no choice but to hang in there, to keep taking one day after another, refuse to let the stress snowball and be buried in that avalanche.

But with this comes another kind of honesty: that wall has got to come down. As carefully constructed and steadily reinforced as once seemed necessary, it has now become more obstacle than shelter. Despite the best of intentions, your fortifications block the rain and the wind and the sun and the warmth alike, shutting out not only bears but butterflies as well. And as you are reminded, in the brilliance of a fall sunset, the soft fur of a snuggling cat, the thrill of a perfect run: even the smallest bit of good can outshine any amount of overhanging darkness. It will always be worth a few tears to remember how to smile.

   Love,

    Meg

I Am A Mess Today

What a glorious Wednesday... for a duck. I'm usually pretty excited for rainy days, but today I am just not feeling it. I need a little sunshine to wake up my brain, which I'm pretty sure I left in bed this morning. Needless to say, this morning has been rough:

 -- I slept straight through my alarm this morning and was just lucky to wake up 15 minutes before I needed to leave. (For the record, I did make it to work on time. And I did shower. Small victories, people.) This is worrisome for two reasons: I went to bed early last night and got plenty of sleep, and this is the second time this has happened in as many weeks. If only I could program the cat to wake me up....

 -- Speaking of furball, he has apparently decided that the prime sleeping spot in our rather empty bed is exactly where I am. For the past few nights, moments after I have turned off the lights and snuggled up, I've felt the little pitter-patter of razor sharp claws climbing my back. After several minutes of back-and-forth in an effort to find just the right spot, he curls up right on top of me, just south of my chin, to stare creepily into my eyes until we both fall asleep. He's lucky that he's the only thing I have to cuddle with right now, otherwise his clammy little nose would find itself on the couch.

 -- I have not gone for a run in 42 hours and counting. To put this another way: I am dying. I started feeling some rather severe pain in my shins over the weekend, and by Monday I knew that I could no longer pretend that it wasn't happening. Whatever the cause, I am hoping that a few rest days will knock it out. Translation: I'm giving it until Friday and if it's not gone, I run through it. This all makes me a little nervous because I have a race in a week and a half that I'd really like to enjoy. Translation: I want an awesome PR. 

Dear legs, Get it in gear. Love, the rest of me.

 -- This morning I ate salad for breakfast. Groceries have become a bit of a precious commodity around these parts, and all I was able to salvage from the ruins of my refrigerator this morning was last night's leftover salad. So when I got hungry at 10:00 this morning, my options were a little limited. Now it's lunchtime, and all I want is a cup of coffee big enough to swim in. My brain hurts.

 -- When I got to work this morning, I found that Pandora had been playing on my computer (through headphones, thank goodness) all night. I am still in mourning over all the great songs I've missed.

 -- Have I mentioned lately that I haven't seen my husband in 80 days? Enough said.

So yes, I am a certifiable mess this morning. Luckily, things are looking up...

 -- My mom and I have a hot yoga date this evening (hot date, not hot yoga.) I haven't taken a class since college and I am super excited to try out a new studio and get back into it. Fingers crossed that I'll be able to silence my thought for long enough to really enjoy it.

 -- My sweet hubby always seems to know when I desperately need a smile: he sent not one, but two gorgeous flower arrangements to me today. I have no clue why he decided that one was not enough, but I am not exactly complaining.

(or something equally cheesy)

Here's to making it through today!

  Love,

    Meg

Gravity

This afternoon, I wrote a post on some Friday Favorites, struggling a little but determined to find some happiness in what has been a long and trying week. I wrote about how stressed I've been, how exhausted, how worried about my very best friend, half a world away. I did a little complaining. I felt a little sorry for myself. I made a little wish that life might move a bit faster.

Tonight, I came home to add a few pictures and hit the publish button on this writing. But before I got around to that, I clicked into my reader to see if any of you out there had updates, because I love to read every last thing that you share with me. Except tonight, I found myself reading something that I did not love... something that broke my heart and made my stomach flop. I read that all across the world, hundreds of people made peanut butter pie today, and I read why. I had not come across Jennie's blog before tonight, but even as a newcomer I was immediately moved by her loss and inspired by the love she and Mikey shared. I have never wished so much that I could cook with peanut butter, because if my allergies allowed, I'd be in the kitchen right now whipping up a tribute. 

Jennie's message, however, is one that we should all hear -- something that I feel is infinitely more important to be shared tonight. It's simple: don't ever miss a chance to tell those around you how much you love them. Nothing is guaranteed, nothing is forever. So bake them a pie, write them a card, give them a call... and hug them extra hard. I know that I sure would, if I could only get my arms around him tonight.

   Love,

    Meg

Country Mouse in the Big City

I am not a "country" girl. Although I have lived my entire life below the Mason-Dixon line and do not call a major metropolis home, I was raised in a decent-sized city and am certainly more comfortable in an urban setting than a rural one. My step-brother used to make fun of me for being "citified" when he found out I'd never been camping and was less than friendly with bugs, spiders, and snakes. I am used to functioning in a world where the grocery store is no more than 10 minutes away, Starbucks is right around every corner, and you can rarely drive 50 feet without practically running over an oblivious pedestrian. I am familiar with the correct balance of neighborly kindness and insistent driving necessary to navigate the suburban terrain... or I thought I was until this weekend.

Saturday morning I drove with Dan's younger brother T up to our nation's lovely capital. I dropped T off at the hospital where my brother-in-law is making a slow but sure recovery, but only after being picked for a random car search upon entering the gates. If I hadn't been so unnerved by the stern security guard, I probably would have laughed at him when, after making us open every single door and compartment in my entire car (including the hood) and pointing us onto the sidewalk, he barely glance in the driver's side door, didn't even make it halfway around the car, looked me square in the eye, and said "Have a nice day" before turning and walking away. I was baffled but relieved, and more than a little ticked that he couldn't even stand there while we put the pieces of my car back together. Good start to the morning.

After this, I headed out to navigate Maryland traffic and meet my best friend for brunch. She had given me the exact address and guessed it should take me about 15 minutes to get there. 40 minutes later, I thought I had made it. I called her before feeding the meter, and as we described our locations I realized that there was no way I was in the right place. After cursing resetting my gps about 16 times, I made a second attempt and, 30 minutes later, found the restaurant. I parked, shoved 4 quarters into the meter, and pushed the start button... and nothing happened. I put in two more quarters (ever the optimist) and the thing still blinked back at me like an irreverent teenager. Slamming back into my car, I drove less than a block and swerved into the next available slot, glancing at the sign and saying a little prayer that my car wouldn't get towed while I ran to meet my poor friend who had been waiting for almost an hour (in a shocking and rare stroke of luck, it didn't).

Some of the blame for turning a 15 minute trip into a trying 60 minute misadventure rests squarely on the shoulders of my gps. While the annoying little voice inside that box tends to know where she's going, she most definitely did not pass the course in communications. Her directions are often woefully inadequate and sometimes seem to resemble a foreign language. With each wrong turn I took, she got increasingly flustered and at one point wanted to take me on a 6 mile detour to avoid the next traffic circle. So I'm not very good at those... touche, little gps.

But directional issues and broken parking meters aside, the real reason that such an easy trip became insanely frustrating and at times a little frightening was the other gazillion city drivers on the road with me. In the center of DC, apparently, all typical regulations, kindnesses, and ounces of common sense take a backseat to getting-where-you-are-going-as-fast-as-humanly-possible. Small gestures like turn signals, obeying the speed limit, letting other traffic merge, and allowing pedestrians to cross streets without threatening their lives are forgotten. Drivers act as if they are on a bumper car track, zooming in and out of tiny gaps, nudging the noses of their cars into the tailpipes of others, and relying heavily on the use of their horns to communicate both joy and frustration. Had I not been enclosed in thousands of pounds of steel, equipped with an airbag, and almost an hour late to my destination, I would have gone home and tried again some other time. So many times I considered pulling over and trying to recollect my nerves, especially as a few defeated tears clouded my vision. I've rarely felt so out of place, so unprepared, and so utterly incompetent.

Now let's be clear, rush hour in my hometown is no picnic on the roads. I have been cut off countless times and practically been run down by a rogue crazy once or twice. Thankfully, though, my own roads seem like efficient, safe, and kind places now that I've had a taste of Dupont Circle on a Saturday at noon. I do love DC (and all my friends who reside there), and to any of you out there who may call it home, I am eternally in awe of your ability to navigate through that mess every single day. You are braver than I... or maybe you're just used to it. One thing this escapade left me sure about though? As much as I enjoy visiting the "big city," I've discovered that I am very happy right here at home, where I can run along university streets and get from point A to point B without almost dying and park in parking lots. Well, that, and now I know how to get to 14th Street NW and V Street with significantly fewer issues. Maybe.

[Thanks to the genius behind The Oatmeal for capturing some of my feelings in comic form: enjoy the section on "cutting each other off."]

   Love,

    Meg

Friday Favorites

My favorite thing about today is not that it's Friday (shocker, I know). It's not that it has finally cooled off outside and actually looked like it might rain on my drive to work this morning (everyone needs a rainy day sometimes, and I think I'm overdue). It's not that my running is going well (even though it is), or that I have a clean bedroom (even though I do), or even that the little brigade of ants who welcomed me home from work on Wednesday has been completely taken care of (even though it has, thank goodness). Nope, my favorite thing about today is that this morning, while looking back at the last several weeks, I realized that actually, if I'm honest, it hasn't been that bad.

This past month (-ish) had all the potential to be incredibly, incredibly bad. Not just trip-you-when-you're-not-looking bad, but shove-you-back-down-every-time-you-try-to-get-up bad. Between having to say goodbye to my sweet husband, his brother's serious injury, and all kinds of speed bumps in between, it would have been easy to just sink into the fog of bad luck and misfortune. There were so many times I was tempted to crawl into bed, skip a run, cancel plans with a friend, and wade around a little in my misery (and maybe a bottle of wine). I've gotten lonely, scared, upset, anxious, and frustrated. I've wanted to call it quits, do whatever it took to get Dan out of his contract, and move to a different city state country. Sometimes running away has truly looked like the best option. In short, this month could have sucked me in, chewed me up, and spit me out a much more jaded human being.

In spite of everything, though, and mostly without a whole lot of conscious thought, I've figured out a way to navigate this minefield. I've kept myself running (literally and figuratively) on a steady diet of contact with good friends and family, iced coffee, skype dates with my hubby, and the determination to stay strong for others who needed me, with a little pinch of denial thrown in for good measure. It hasn't always worked, and there were certainly times when I got overwhelmed by everything that's happened, but for the most part, I feel like I've made it through intact. Bumped around and bruised a little, but still smiling.

Instead of looking back on the past several weeks and remembering the bad parts: the goodbyes, the scary phone calls, the hours upon hours of driving, the long sleepless nights in a bed much too large for one body, I am able to recall the happier memories. The tipsy but wonderful vineyard tour with Dan and our best friends. The phone calls and emails from friends and family to check in on me and let me know they are thinking about me. The night after Dan left, when my best friend and I stayed up talking until almost 3 AM. The runs that felt amazing and proved to be incredible stress-relievers. The dinners with my wonderful and (mostly) drama-free family. The nights when my friend C came over just to hang out, watch bad tv, and make sure I was still laughing. And just to prove that despite all the gloom still hanging around, the sun continues to poke its way through at even the most unexpected times, the gorgeous flowers that were delivered this morning to brighten my day:

How does Dan even have time to think of this when he's working so hard?

I am so lucky to have the most loving and thoughtful hubby, a few dedicated (and truly persistent) friends, and an incredibly sane, stable family. They have all made the difference in ensuring this month was "not too bad," instead of the horror it could have become. So my favorite thing right now is not that it's Friday (although that's a close second). My favorite thing about today is that despite everything, I am still able to face it -- and the next weekend, the next week, the next month, and maybe even the next 11.5 months -- with a smile.

Happy Friday everyone! Hope you all have wonderful weekends planned!

    Love,

     Meg

Into the Unknown

To say that I am a planner might be the understatement of the century. I make lists of my lists. I plan menus in my sleep. In college, I often spent so much effort researching and outlining that I nearly ran out of time to actually write the paper. My apartment is afloat with post-it notes and index cards (my mediums of choice) with grocery lists, weekly budgets, songs I want to buy, workout records, and recipes to try. I prepare and anticipate and calculate and schedule every little detail to death and back again, despite the fact that this tends to drive some of the more spontaneous people in my life (including my poor husband) to distraction. Whenever I am upset or stressed, I cuddle up to Dan and ask him to help me: to plan the day, the weekend, the solution to my problems. There are days that I try hard to be a little more impulsive (mainly when my impulses tell me I want ice cream), but the closest I come, usually, is heading out for a run without a route already planned. In general, though, I thrive when I know exactly what to expect... and I figure that at 23 years old, I should probably stick to what I know works for me.

This is where the army and I disagree. I swear that Dan's only job description is "unpredictable," unless it also includes "frequent and drastic last-minute changes." Which makes it a little hard for my ever-planning brain to cope. I can't tell you the number of times I've been mentally prepared for a certain duration of training, a specific return date, or a particular state in which Dan could be found at a given time, only to discover that they would in fact be much longer, much later, or much further away. After almost 6 years, one might think that I would start to get used to this way of life. Let me tell you, a little adaptation would be welcome. But my stubborn self just continues to plan and count on things and write dates in pen... and I still get horribly thrown off track when plans are changed (as they inevitably are). If nothing else, I suppose I'm getting used to disappointment.

When Dan first found out about his deployment, I immediately started to ask questions. (Ok, that's not completely true: first I cried, then I asked questions) I wanted to know everything about everything, to have a clear vision of what our lives would be while he was gone. I quizzed Dan on every aspect of the 13 months: what his mobilization would be like, what would happen when he got overseas, what a typical day would be like for him, how often I'd hear from him, and every single contingency I could come up with. It was here that we encountered problems: I had questions, and my hubby, through no fault of his own, had very few answers. Besides a very rough timeline and general location, the details were fuzzy at best. Dan was not worried, but I was terrified. I needed a plan.

Since at that point we were still over 6 months from his departure, I tried to relax and be at peace with all of the unknown. In reality, I think I spent the first few months in denial, thinking about everything as little as possible and putting off the stress until an unspecific later date. Probably not the best way to deal with it, but at least I didn't let it ruin the holidays. As June 1st has crept closer and closer, however, it's become increasingly harder not to yank my head out of the sand just a little and look at what, exactly, is going on around me. 

In the past 6 months, since we first learned about the deployment, it seems like everything has changed. We jumped from 7 months to 13, Dan's responsibilities during those 13 months have shifted (and continue to change even now), and even his location may change at some point while he is gone. The only thing that hasn't changed? The details are still fuzzy as ever, of course. We don't know exactly when he will leave the country, or how he will get to his actual destination. We don't know how often he will have to make trips off-post, or how reliable the internet access will be. Toward the end of this year, we know that his location is likely to change, but we don't know where he will go or what he will be doing there. We don't know if he will even get a typical 2 week R&R, much less when it will be. Fuzzy. At best.

This unknown factor has been the absolute worst part of the past month, as we "prepare" for Dan to leave. It's hard enough that this is our first deployment and neither of us really know what to expect, but all the extra question marks have made it exponentially scarier. I'm trying to hard to take each day at a time and not stress over all the things I still can't plan, but this goes against every single instinct I've spend 23 years honing. I want desperately to know what the next 13 months will hold for us. I want to know if it will really be as hard as I am dreading, or worse. I want to know that he will be happy with what he's doing there. Most of all, I want to know that I will be able to hear from him -- whether it is daily, weekly, or monthly... I just want to know.

Chances this whole experience of diving off the cliff, not knowing what waits for me at the bottom (nor what the trip down will look like) will force me to become a little less focused on planning my life and a little more focused on living it? Well..... a girl can hope, can't she?

   Love,

    Meg

400 Days

People are just as happy as they make up their minds to be.

[Abraham Lincoln]

As hard as I have tried to avoid thinking about it in the past few weeks (and trust me, I have tried hard), the fact that Dan leaves in less than a month just keeps catching up with me. Every single morning, the reminder that I am going to be essentially alone for the next 13 months smacks me over the head and then plants itself right in the pit of my stomach, where the gnawing makes it very hard to concentrate on anything else. Sometimes I'm able to talk a good game with my heart, half-convincing myself that I can do this, that it's going to be fine. Sometimes I go to bed hopeful, believing that 13 months isn't really that long and that it will all be over before I even have time to think too hard about it. Sometimes I can fool myself into thinking that if I only fill every minute of my time, keeping myself booked every day of every week, I'll be too busy to realize the volume of loneliness that I know is coming. But each time I get confident that I'm going to make it through those 13 months without being utterly miserable, I'm reminded of an event that Dan will miss, an activity that I'll have to do without him, or the fact that 13 months is, in fact, longer than an entire year (did you know?). And then I'm back to square one, trying to pick myself up and fighting the urge to simply stay in bed and eat ice cream and cry for the next year of my life (year-plus... because did I mention that 13 months is longer than a year? I know, I'm shocked every time I realize it too).
When the subject of the deployment comes up in conversation, some people point out that it should be easy, because Dan and I have spent so much time apart during our relationship. It is true that we've got a lot of experience in the long-distance department -- until the past year, he and I hadn't lived in the same town for more than 2 or 3 months at a time, and often we didn't see each other more than a few times a month. We've gone as many as 4 months without seeing each other at all (although that was 4 years ago), and we've even made it through 6 weeks with no contact except for letters (those handwritten things that you send with stamps... remember them?) and two phone calls. And while I have never agreed with the logic that the more time you spend apart, the easier it gets, I do know that we've made it through this before. It will be much, much, much longer this time around, but the idea of being separated by thousands of miles is certainly not foreign to us.
The new (and entirely unwelcome) part of the next 13 months? The worrying. I am a worrier by nature. I fret about anything and everything... and more. Saying that I will be anxious about Dan's health, safety, and happiness while he is away is a huge understatement -- I have accepted the fact that there are a lot of sleepless nights in my future. Luckily, I should be able to hear from him often, but I know that I am going to be a nervous wreck for basically the entire time he is gone.
All of this thinking stressing obsessing over Dan's departure, however, has made me realize that, for better or for worse, I have two choices: I can cave into the misery and essentially waste over a year of my life on something I have no control over, or I can accept that it's not going to be easy but do my best to make it through with a smile. On one hand,I know that it would be so easy to just give in and stumble through the next year in a haze, allowing the thundercloud overhead to drench me day after day. Yep, feeling sorry for myself and letting the loneliness overtake my life would be so simple. But I've never met a challenge I wasn't prepared to take on. So my goal for the next 13 months? It's simple: be happy.
I've been in a relationship for almost 6 years now, and I will admit that sometimes I think I've forgotten how to be happy on my own. When you have a boyfriend/fiance/husband who tells you he loves you, takes you to see girly movies, cooks you amazing dinners, sometimes allows you to be little spoon, and occasionally sends you beautiful flowers, it's kind of easy to sit back and let those little details create your happiness. I don't think that's a bad thing, but 6 years later when you're facing 13 months without the person who makes you happier than anything, it's a little shocking to realize that you're not really sure what else makes you happy. I know that Dan isn't the only thing that makes me smile (Dunkin Donuts' iced coffee is proof of that), but over the next year (-ish), I am determined to find new ways to cheer myself up and enjoy life. While I have so many people to support me and help me along, I know that it I have to take a little time to put myself first, and I think I owe it to myself to explore my own happiness
I'm not really sure what the next 400 days of my life hold. I do know that they are not going to be easy, and that sometimes I'm going to need a little time just to be sad. I know that they are going to feel incredibly long, no matter how busy I am, but that, in reality, none of them will take more than 24 hours. I know that there will be a lot of counting down involved -- until the next email, the next phone call, and the day that I get to finally see him again. But I also know that I am going to do whatever it takes to make these 400 days happy ones, despite the rather large obstacles to that. I know that they are going to involve lots of meals with family, lots of quality time with my netflix account, lots of miles of running, lots of laughs with friends, lots of furry snuggling (get ready, Toby), lots of nights curled up with a good book, lots of blog posts, and lots of cross-town trips just for my favorite coffee. These days may also require occasional bouts of retail therapy, big doses of comfort food, hot bubble baths, random dance parties, relaxing pedicures, massive bowls of pasta, Friends marathons, and ridiculous amounts of late-night baking. Whatever it takes, I'm committed to making each and every day worthwhile, combating the loneliness with everything I have, and making my happiness a priority.
For the next 400 days, a huge piece of my life will be missing, and not a day will go by that I will not worry about him and miss him terribly. But no matter what, I won't allow these days, weeks, and months to be lost in misery. I will fill my time with happiness, in whatever form that may take, and maybe... hopefully... I will learn a little bit about myself in the process.

   Love,

    Meg

Sometimes It's Okay...

Since graduating from college and dipping my toes into this whole "real life" thing, I've noticed that my perspective on what is "acceptable" has changed in many ways. I worked my butt off during four years of school, but the 8-5 workday has introduced a whole new meaning to the word "exhausted." Turning in work for a grade was stressful enough, but turning in work to a boss? That's a whole new ballgame. Beyond the job front, I've also moved out "on my own"... except, with a boy. If anything will change your perspective on personal habits, let. me. tell. you. I love him to death, but sometimes I wonder if we really are both of the same species. And speaking of species, there's also the fact that I am still a new parent... of a furball. Lots of adjustments!
I have always been a perfectionist (and still am, don't get me wrong), but these new experiences have taught me a lot about when and where it's okay to let go a little, stop feeling guilty, and just live:


Sometimes it's okay... to invite your parents over for dinner... and then ask them to bring dinner. At least I was making dessert!
Sometimes it's okay... to make yourself feel better because even though the girl sprinting on the treadmill next to you has run twice the distance you have and she's barely broken a sweat, she's wearing workout clothes left over from the early 80's. Plus she shouts the answers to Wheel of Fortune. From the treadmill. Awkward.
Sometimes it's okay... to take a compliment. Especially if it's in regards to something you've been busting your ass on lately. Don't minimize the effort, just smile and say thank you (and then do a little victory dance once no one is looking).
Sometimes it's okay... to read magazines online instead of spending the money to subscribe. It's fun to get something other than bills in the mail, but no matter how interesting they look, they will only sit on the coffee table for months. I always get through the Food Network magazine that my mom got me, and I'm so tempted to subscribe to 1 or 2 or 6 more, but I know I'd never have time to read them.
Sometimes it's okay... to miss your fiance terribly when he's gone but to be comforted a little by the fact that there is a little extra space to stretch out in bed.
Sometimes it's okay... to force the cat to sleep in bed with you because the bed feels a little too big without afore mentioned fiance. Luckily we adopted a snuggler, so it doesn't take much convincing for little Toby.
Sometimes it's okay... to visit the in-laws for a yummy homemade dinner that you didn't actually have to cook. Also to accept their offer of leftover macaroni and cheese to take home... but to turn down the broccoli. (Who am I kidding? This is always okay.) 
Sometimes it's okay... to wear a boring outfit to work. It's tough to color-coordinate and accesorize when your eyes are still half shut in the mornings.
Sometimes it's okay... to need a little space.
Sometimes it's okay... to pack a healthy lunch for work... and then go out to get a big, delicious side of hummus and pita to go with it.
Sometimes it's okay... to unsubscribe from all those emails that you never read anyway.
Sometimes it's okay... to drink a glass of tomato juice for breakfast at work and wish that it were a bloody mary.
Sometimes it's okay... to hit the snooze button and sleep through a morning workout, but still get up in plenty of time to stop at Starbucks on my way to work.
Sometimes it's okay... to take a day off from work. I'm definitely not used to getting vacation/personal days, and I'm so tempted to just save them up in case of an emergency. I've only taken one so far, but I am sooo ready for another one already. I miss cancelled classes and spring break and skipping a class every once in a while!
Sometimes it's okay... to cook for just one person. Cereal for dinner gets old. Fast.

   Love,

    Meg