Days Go By...and still I think about "She"

Listening To:

Days Go By (Acoustic) – Dirty Vegas

Sometimes I feel I have exhausted this subject. Other times I feel like it is a subject that is impossible to be exhausted. This is one of those times.

I have written two blogs about my mother. “She” and “She: The Ruby Slipper Version”. I don’t want to use this particular post to once again explain the story…partly because the true story just isn’t known. But also because I know MY story, and while I have thought I have been given chances to share my voice, outsiders “sharing” my story have not correctly portrayed my voice. The only way that can be done is if I do it myself.

A few months ago, a reporter called me to interview me on my knowledge and feelings on my mother’s disappearance. We spent well over an hour on the phone together. She had reached out to me after she found my blog, and I agreed to speak with her. I had the best expectations, and believed she had the best intentions. While I cannot speak for her on her intentions, the way the article turned out left me quite disappointed. I had gone into the interview hoping to bring exposure to the 25th “anniversary” of my mother being a missing person. I did not expect to come across as someone who didn’t care, and apparently, according to the one comment that article received, I wasn’t the only one who read it that way.

Here are the stories, and I do urge you to read them:

"After 25 Years..."

"Kerry and Megan"

It even made the #NBC news "Cold Case Spotlight".

A person by the “name” of “Kay Nine” (which to me, especially after reading the comment posted now reads “Canine” or, “bitch” (you know, female dog)…either way, it seems like a fake name…maybe she just likes dogs…what do I know, I am clearly naïve…) posted this comment on the article:

“Well, the daughter sounds extremely naïve.”

Really??!? This article was supposed to be written to return this cold case to the public eye. My mother is a missing person, and I have grown up knowing she is gone, and not knowing why. And the ONLY thing some OUTSIDER can say is something as insensitive as this??!? Well I will not stand for that.

I am here to say I care. And I always will. Again, I urge you to read the articles that were written, as my whole purpose is to raise awareness and bring exposure to this case, in hopes to one day find out the truth. So, I responded to Miss “Nine” with this:

“I do not believe I am naïve. I spoke with Miss Zambo for over an hour and many of my words were not used. I miss my mother and desperately want to know the truth, which is exactly why I agreed to do the interview. It is understandable to have an outsider read this article and formulate their own opinion, but I must say to assume I am naïve, and have that be the only comment on such a serious story is ignorant and rude. My mother is missing, and it is heartbreaking for myself and many others. This story is supposed to raise awareness and hopefully bring information and answers to the surface, I hope that all who read this can keep that as the main focus.”

This article was written by a journalist, local to the area where the incident happened. She is also an acquaintance of that county’s detective who came up to speak with me nearly two summers ago. The same detective who was in the wedding of my mother’s sister who was also interviewed in this article. If that isn’t a conflict of interest, I don’t know what is. If you are a detective, and TRULY want to find an answer to a case, becoming personal friends with someone involved is not the way to do it. A true detective must keep their eyes completely open and remain unbiased. A feat impossible to achieve if one is personally involved. Especially if it is a conflict between two families and that detective is clearly on one family’s side.

I have no answer to what happened. But I also have my own opinions. I also know myself and my life and how I was raised and who I was raised by. I also have read diaries from my mother from when she was between the ages of 13 and 18, as well as each article she wrote when she was the editor of the local paper. I may not know her, but “nature” does play a big role in a person’s life, and while I may have never experienced much “nurture” from her, I KNOW we are very similar. The things I have heard about her, and the things she wrote which I have read, it is eerie how similar her personality and voice sound like mine. We may not have known each other long, but we have a lifelong connection.

To say that I am naïve, or for someone to think that I don’t care is simply ridiculous. But one also has to understand that it has been 25 years. I have experienced YEARS of terrible, rock-bottom depression surrounding this. At some point, I HAVE to move forward, take care of myself and my family, and be the best person that I can be. I want to know the truth, of course, but if she is alive and left on her own, she has had 25 years to reach out. Most likely, if that is the case, she isn’t going to reach out now. If something terrible happened to her, and if someone knew something about it, again, after 25 years, IF they are still alive, they most likely wouldn’t stand up now. I am a human. I have feelings, and I have very strong feelings about this. But I realized that for my health and my sanity and for every other outside aspect of my life, this can control me no longer. I want to know, and I invite the truth, but it cannot be my main focus. I have people who love me, and have taken care of me, and no matter what happened to her, they are here and they always have been, and I will not take them for granted. I spent years feeling she left me. I spent years hating a person I didn’t know. I have grown up, learned more about myself, and through speaking with family and reading her diaries and newspaper articles, I have learned more about her. There is no more hate. No more anger. I, personally, truly believe she left on her own. I believe she wasn’t just unhappy, but I believe she had a mental disorder. Whether that be depression, or if she was manic, or bipolar, or something else, I believe it was something she couldn’t control and that she left to allow those she left behind to have a better life without her. I do hope she is still out there. I do hope she reads this. I do hope she knows she is loved and forgiven by myself and my father.

But I also want her, and everyone else to understand that I was only 3 years old when she went missing. I never really knew her. I was also very, very much loved and taken care of by my father, grandparents and the rest of my dad’s side of the family. I had a happy childhood. That doesn’t mean I don’t care, because I do. It just affected me later in life. What it means is that my family is wonderful, and do not deserve what they have gone through, and still go through because of this. There are many sides to every story. Listen, but don’t judge. If you know something, do the right thing and speak out. Everything done in this world affects someone. We as humans need to take care of each other. Do good, be good…and have an open mind, with room for understanding and love.

Welcome to the Real World, Sugar Cookie.

Listening to:

“Impossible” → Lyla Foy

“Stay Alive” → Jose Gonzalez

Several months ago, I had an “I am Woman, hear me roar!” moment. I finally landed a “big girl” job (which to me, personally means that I was finally out of the Customer Service/Sales circuit and into something within my future career field – English Education). I was hired at an organization as a Support Specialist, which I was initially told is essentially a Teaching Assistant for kids with disabilities and behavioral issues. I. WAS. ECSTATIC. I was so proud of myself, which is a rare feeling for me. I felt like I was worth something, and other people noticed. I felt accomplished.

After a couple months I began mainly working in the Adult Program, mostly in building and mostly with people with Autism, but also a few community clients with Depression and PTSD. I quickly began to realize this was not the job that was initially described to me.

One client is Non-Verbal and can get instantly upset seemingly out of nowhere. I have been screamed at and slapped in the face several times. It is sometimes hard to remember she is upset and can’t communicate what she wants or needs, which surely causes more frustration, and that the lashing out is not personal, even though it stings physically and emotionally.

Another client has anger issues and in order to work with him one on one, you have to be CPI trained (trained to put him in holds, not if, but when he becomes violent).

Another client, a community person, is homeless and jobless and it is my job to essentially be his life coach and keep him moving forward and on track. Which is very difficult when he wants to drink himself to death.

Several other clients, over the age of 18, some with Autism or MS or both, are quite cognitive and verbal, but cannot toilet themselves. Which is….well….yeah…

And yet another, a young girl entering her Senior year in High School suffering from ADD, PTSD and Anxiety, so naïve, so vulnerable, so sweet.

All I ever wanted to do when applying for and accepting this position, was to teach someone something. To make a difference in at least one person’s life. To be a constant. A mentor. To help shape a life and see it grow and succeed. To learn something myself.

There have been ups and downs, progress and backtracking for all. But after one particular week of several slaps in the face from one, another receiving death threats and needing to be reported for possible suicide watch, another soiling herself at the park and then having to get into my car, and yet another, needing me to report to Child Protective Services for possible in home abuse, I began to go into mental breakdown mode. Was this the rough and tough real world my parents always told me about but I never believed existed?

I felt lost. Like I was a failure. I felt heartbroken for not being able to help and save everyone. I let them all down, I let my supervisor and fellow employees down, and I let myself down.

The stress continued to build and after weeks of debilitating anxiety attacks, severe depression, feeling as if I can't do a thing right and I am not helping anyone, today that changed.

Upon leaving I had a client (the homeless, jobless, “drink himself to death” client) tell me I "have been a Godsend" and that he "wouldn't have been able to go on had I not been there to help the way I have."

Never miss an opportunity to tell someone how you appreciate them. Even the tiniest of compliments can pull someone back to a happy reality. And even if you feel like you aren’t making a difference, if you truly care, then you are.

Do good. Be good. Spread the love.

And that folks, is my lesson of the day.

:)

You're Out of Your Element, MK

Listening to: “Cool Kids” → Echosmith

Thinking about: The Big Lebowski

If only I knew what my element was, I’d like to be in it. Herein lies the daunting task that many of us face daily: fitting in.

What makes it most difficult is that at any given moment we can be playing a multitude of roles which we need to fit into.

Take me for example: daughter, sister, student, not just any student but a “non-traditional” student as I am older and returning to school, employee, support specialist, friend, girlfriend, to my boyfriend’s friends I am the new girlfriend of their guy friend who is also the ex-boyfriend to a girl they are still friends with (yeah that one is messy…), tenant, neighbor, stranger at the store or gas station or library or wherever….

My point is, I am one who wants to please everyone, and I want everyone to like me, all while being true to myself. But, WHO THE HECK AM I??!!?? I think it’s easy these days when “acting out our roles” to lose ourselves in them and the people surrounding them. You want to stand out and have people see and appreciate you for who you are, and yet you want to fit into their lives and have a sense of commonality. Conundrum!

How do you do both? Is it even humanly possible?

Well, it is and it isn’t, but more importantly, I have learned it doesn’t completely need to be.

I most likely will never “fit in” with the cool kids I attend college with and I don’t want to (at 28, I am 6-10 years older than most of them….ugh). But being the loner in the corner doesn’t go well when you have group projects. They don’t need to know how old I am, nor do we need to hang out on Thirsty Thursday. But I can still be my quirky, sweet self and have classroom friends.

I am my boyfriend’s girlfriend and he does love me completely for who I am. Which is a wonderful thing. And while it is important for family and friends of a significant other to like you and vice versa, just as in every aspect of life, not everyone will. Especially if they are still friends with his “super awesome and nice” ex girlfriend…(HEY!!! GUESS WHAT??!?!? I’M SUPER AWESOME AND NICE!). This one is a bit tough…I have learned on a couple first impression expeditions that maybe my quirky side might just have a bit to much quirk to it for some people (especially when mixed with alcohol…). So, you can and should be yourself, but maaaaaybe tone it down a bit the first couple of times until you really get to know a person, understanding their possible loyalties to both your significant other and their ex. All in all, if the two of you love each other, truly make each other happy, and are undeniably good for each other, most everyone will come around. And if they don’t, it’s a battle that’s just not worth fighting.

When it comes to work (and neighbors and strangers and every other person on the list), this one is much the same, with an extra dose of common sense. Be respectful. Be professional. Don’t swear. Using proper English is always a plus. Unless you have this person’s job, then throw it all out the window and let yourself loose! Wooooo!

Conclusion? Don’t lose yourself, embrace yourself. Don’t compromise your beliefs, desires, or feelings for someone else, but do be aware and respectful of the situation. There have been plenty of times I have spent the entire day holding in a temporary and sudden onset of turrets, letting it all out upon entering my tiny, thin-walled apartment (sorry neighbors…).

WE, my friends, ARE cool kids. And don’t you forget it!

Find you, find your element, and GET IN IT!

Goodbyes Are Easy...Said No One Ever.

When I think of my grandmother I still see her as she was years ago: true red lipstick, short black hair with perfect waves of curls pinned back, clip-on costume earrings, and black pumps. So classic.

She is 91 years old now and no color other than natural has been on her lips in years. Her curls have turned gray, earrings are only worn on very special occasions, and pumps have been replaced by flats for nearly a decade. But to me, she is still beautiful. She is timeless.

A few days ago (Wednesday) my father called me to inform me that she had fallen and broke her leg…as many elderly do. She was to have surgery the next day. As she lives a few hours away, and I am nearly overwhelmed with work and school, I wouldn’t be making a trip. The outcome of the situation was overall positive.

Last year, around the holidays, over a period of a month or so, she suffered 4 strokes. 4! Many people don’t even survive one but this woman is unlike any other. She had been living on her own, but in order to be released after the 4th stroke the Doctor stated she had to live in either Assisted Living or a Nursing Home. So, we as a family spent the next 3 weekends in a row finding a new home for her, packing, cleaning, moving and unpacking her life. Those 2 months were terrible. As a child growing up in a single parent home, it was my grandparents who raised me much of the time while my father worked overtime each week and returned to school. The thought of losing the woman who raised me, my true mother figure, was devastating. I understand reality and the worst part about life is that it always ends in death. Yet I think nothing can truly prepare you. Well we made it through that and soon she returned to her quirky, perfect self.

So her surgery and initial recovery went as well as possible, and we were informed she would have to stay in the rehab section of a nursing home for at least a month, with the possibility the nursing home could become a permanent residence, but still, a near-full recovery was expected. So I went on with my next day and a half as usual, finally sleeping again and the anxiety attacks subsided.

Until the other evening (Friday), my father calls as I am driving home from work and says, “Grandma’s checking out”. WHAT. THE. HELL??!? With all the pain and weakness and remembrance of her health issues over the past year, she was somewhere in between acceptance and giving up. So she had called my father to say goodbye, and he told me to call her.

So I instantly did. While still driving. Which I don’t remember, and DO NOT recommend (seriously, while crying and saying your supposed last words to a loved one, pull over.). We had a 15 minute conversation which I will never forget and will mostly keep sacred to myself. But it was the most heartbreakingly beautiful conversation I could ever ask for. Being told she loved me, she was proud of me, was lucky to have had me…it almost took the pain away for a moment. Not many people get the opportunity to have that moment with a dying loved one. A treasure more priceless than any physical object or any experience. I had flashbacks of her putting on her red lipstick and chunky earrings. Flashbacks of her making macaroni and cheese. Flashbacks of her playing “Go Fish” with me. We said “I love you” for the 50th time that conversation, and then “Goodbye” for the seemingly last time. Cue hyperventilation and more sobbing. While still driving home. Cue a night with zero sleep and a never-ending anxiety attack. Cue nausea. Cue returning to prayer since…I don’t know when. Cue a piece of my heart dying, and wishing that it could be my heart instead of hers.

The next morning my father called and she had made it through the night and was considered stable. Move forward one more day and she is finally starting to eat and sit up. She is asking for visitors and hasn’t talked about death in awhile. Move forward one more day and she is determined to get better and make it through this. To go to rehab and return to her assisted living afterwards. This beautifully strong woman seems to have pulled through again. But this time, we really do realize we won’t get many, if any, more opportunities like this.

You may not get the chance to say “goodbye” or “I love you” to or hear it from someone who is dying, and you someday will be the one falling asleep. So, so cliché yet so true, say it whenever possible. And if it is truly meant and shown, there is no such thing as saying it too much. Give as much love as you can to those you love. You truly do not know when the last moment is.

Plain Jane meets the World

My life experiences thus far have shown me that humans, while so different, in many ways are quite alike, and all very interesting. The chance to connect with anyone, even a stranger, for only a minute holds the possibility of being life changing.

Between the years of 2007 and 2011, I followed my boyfriend at the time from Small Town, WI to Sanford, Florida. The beginning of our relationship was a whirlwind. Not too long before we started dating he had broken up with his girlfriend of 3+ years, and I had finally ended a very abusive relationship. We met through my cousin and within a couple weeks of first meeting, around Christmas, we began dating.

We had only been together a few weeks when he told me that it had been his life-long dream (he was 25, I was 20) to be an airline pilot, but never felt the support of his girlfriend at the time, and had never had enough confidence to just go for it. But now, he was going to do it. I supported it. I was quite excited for him, and while I liked him a lot, our relationship was so new, neither of us were too seriously invested. Our own lives were our priorities. He told me he’d be moving to Florida within a month or so.

About a week or 2 after him breaking the news, we went for a walk around his neighborhood. He asked me to move to Florida with him. He was wonderful, I was young and had never lived outside of Wisconsin, or done anything so....big! So, I said “Why not?!” and we both said if it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out. By the time we had been dating for 6 weeks, he moved. I stayed behind to work and save money for another 6 weeks.

While Florida may not seem too far or very different, it was a bit of a culture shock for me. I was used to the small town life, knowing everyone, keeping my doors unlocked...our first night together there he took me for a ride on his motorcycle. My first time. He was one of those men with a compass built into his nose. Navigating his way by the sun and the stars. We were riding along on some back roads in the Ocala National Forest when we saw something amazing in the sky. A shiny metallic object flying higher and higher into the sky. Fire and a huge line of white smoke attached as a tail. We stopped in the parking lot of a gas station to watch our first (of many) Space Shuttle leave our atmosphere. A breathtaking sight.

As we sat there, taking it all in, smiling and so excited, we are interrupted by a car suddenly pulling up to the front door of the gas station, a guy runs out leaving it running, runs into the store, runs back out with a 6pack of beer, drives off with tires squealing, and the owner running out, yelling, scissors in one hand, a portable phone in the other. This was our first (also of many) time we ever saw a robbery, let alone any crime in general. (We stayed long enough where a retail store I worked for was robbed of clothes on a near-daily basis, where we locked the doors during the day while we were at home without even thinking about it, and when Casey Anthony “lost” her daughter....Florida soon became a place like no other.)

One day, one of my favorite experiences not only of living in Florida but of my entire life thus far, took place at a Publix. Now if you know me, you know I have a severe distaste for grocery shopping. I just don’t like it. But one day, after hearing how great the Publix stores are (seriously, how “great” can a grocery store be??!?! ...well....they need those stores everywhere because they. are. wonderful. !! (Although Woodman’s and Festival Foods here in WI are pretty great too)) we decided to do our shopping there. Now, another thing to know about me is that I rarely have any sense of “stranger danger”. I’m quite comfortable with striking up a conversation with any random person in the vicinity. While we were in the checkout line, I noticed the older gentleman behind me was wearing a Green Bay Packers hat. HELL YES! I am not only PROUD to be from WISCONSIN, I am PROUD to be a PACKER-backer CHEESEHEAD through and through. So, of course, like a giddy little girl I turn to him and say, “Awesome hat! I’m from Wisconsin!” And do you know how that man replied??!? He said to me, “Thanks, I used to play for the Packers”.

Well my jaw dropped and I somehow became even more giddy (and goofy) than before. “OH MY GOD who are you?!?” I asked while extending my hand for a shake. “Gene Breen” he said, “I played in ’64 with Bart Starr”. After telling him how amazing that was, as if he didn’t know, he told me he’d always consider himself a Packer, and them to be his team. “It’s a great organization and a great state.” It was then that I realized this was THE ONE TIME I had left my camera and phone at home. But even without the physical proof of this memory, this is one I will never forget. I walked out of that store just beaming. The coolest person I had met, hands down. So nice, so humble, so proud of this great thing he was once a part of that he will always feel part of it. ((Later I concluded that due to “A+B=B+C means A=C” transitive property or something (I hate math.), since I shook his hand, he on many occasions shook/high-fived Bart Starr’s hand, I have, therefore, touched Bart Starr’s hand (just let a girl dream her dream).)) And we had a connection. Something so seemingly simple as a logo on a hat turned out to be something so big for both of us. Two strangers, one love. And then we both turned and walked along and moved on with our lives.

What I am trying to convey with this story, is that other people come in and out of our lives. Sometimes their presence is fleeting, sometimes it becomes permanent. Never be afraid to reach out. Always be kind. Make a connection, be it with a smile, a compliment, or even a proposal for a first date. The world is full of a lot of people. All different, and all alike. You never know the impact a personal encounter can hold...where in the world it can take you, what of the world it can teach you. Humans, can be, beautiful creatures. Let’s not let each other forget it.

A Laugh a Day….

A day is only bad if we aren’t able to laugh at any of the mishaps.

The last couple of days have been so full of mishaps, it is impossible for me to not laugh, and also impossible for me not to share. So please, laugh along.

As I mentioned in an earlier blog, I recently returned to college after somewhat of a hiatus. I had been crazy bag of emotions in the days leading up to my first day, but this past Monday I woke up ready to take it all on. Deep breath in, several cups of coffee, and I even ate breakfast which is a rare thing for me to do. I checked my schedule about 1.7 MILLION times. I did my hair (another rarity). I. WAS. READY.

I arrived on campus 30 minutes early. This was perfect, I thought! I went to my first building, found my classroom, and went around the corner to the cafe/lounge area and relaxed with another cup of coffee. About 10 minutes before class many people started crowding around the door. My first class was in a large auditorium with a set of doors on each side of the room for smooth traffic flow. I got up and proceeded to wait with the masses for the previous class to finish and exit. I overheard a student near me ask another, “What room are you in?” to which the other replied, “Right here, 1309”. Fantastic. Just another confirmation I was in the right place. Finally the doors opened and soon we all begin piling in, sitting down, pens and notebooks ready. Here I am! I am back!

I sat towards the front, in the middle of the row. Within minutes the room was packed. Within a few more minutes the professor begins to speak. She states her name (I hadn’t really bothered to look at the names of my instructors), gives a little information about herself and starts to talk about the basic expectations of the class and us as students. After a couple minutes, and once the projection screen finally showed the class name and number, I had that sick, sinking feeling. I’m in the wrong freaking class. I sneak a look at my schedule, still positive I was in the right room. I saw the sign outside the door! But after a few more words from her mouth, it was confirmed. This was a health class. I definitely didn’t sign up for that one. And here comes the conundrum. I am in the middle of 250 people. Class has been in session 10 minutes. Do I try to quietly gather my things and discretely (yeah right) climb over everyone in my row, exit the room and THEN try to continue being quiet and discrete and enter the correct room...if I can find it? Well this decision took another 5 minutes. The clock is ticking. I am probably twitching. I mean, this is the first day of the semester. People are still switching their schedules around throughout the entire 1st week so it’s normal to miss a class, right? Ugh. Honestly, I said to myself, “Fuck it.” I bit that embarassment bullet and got up and got the hell out of there....head high but eyes to the grown. Luckily I didn’t trip up the stairs. But either way I might as well have been living one of those “naked in front of an audience” dreams.

I got out of the room, and right to the left was another set of doors.....for my correct class. The “1309” sign was slightly closer to those doors than my original set. Cute. So I walk in, luckily during a lull in the class, but sure enough, the professor sees me, waves me up front to pick up the syllabus. I told him I wished I had the excuse of being a tourist in a different country, but I am only just a transfer student who should have stopped at Sesame Street first to review my numbers. He laughed. Class resumed. At the end of it a boy next to me said he didn’t blame me for getting lost, there’s rumors going around the Psych students switch classroom numbers and study the reactions of people. I laughed. All was fine with the world again.

....

Until I went to the bathroom before my 2nd class. Some people leave their coats and backpacks on the floor out by the sinks. I’m still new and awkward and untrusting so I bring my coat, my backpack, my purse and my coffee all in the stall with me. I use the toilet, as all humans do, gather all my stuff and as I walk out of my stall towards the sink, another girl enters the bathroom and walks right into the stall I walked out of....EVERY OTHER STALL IS EMPTY. ((who does that??!?)) As I am drying my hands I immediately realize something is missing. My coffee. It’s in that stall. On the shelf. Behind the toilet in which I hear her urinating. Goodbye almost full venti dark roast. Due to the possibility of the splash effect I must leave you behind. Ugh.

Luckily I made it to my 2nd class, on time and in the right room on the 1st try. The class went well, and by the time it ended my excitement and confidence had returned. My goodness! What a roller coaster of a morning! I walk down the steps, and open the doors to the frigid air and the sun extra-brightly reflecting off of the snow. I turn my backpack around, open the front zipper to pull out my sunglasses, and what do you know. They have snapped in half. If only I had some white tape to repair them I could have rocked the nerd-taped broken glasses look after the day I had been having! But alas, I walked to my car with my eyes squinted.

But I made it. Even with those silly mishaps, I still did it. I took a step toward my goal, and even in the face of fear and embarrassment and frustration, I kept going. And I laughed. A lot. How could I not?!? It was 11:55 am and the morning had been simply ridiculous.

They say things happen in 3’s....so I should be golden for awhile.

Right??!?

Need some extra laughs at someone else’s expense in your day? Follow me on Twitter for more of my Back To School “experiences”.

And don’t forget to laugh.

:)

Back to school, Back to school

Education is the movement from darkness to light. ~Allan Bloom

Education is what remains after one has forgotten what one has learned in school. ~Albert Einstein

Education's purpose is to replace an empty mind with an open one. ~Malcolm S. Forbes

Education is not preparation for life; education is life itself. ~John Dewey

Well I have almost survived my first week returning to college after a several year break. Just one more day to go. This return has made its way to #9 on my bucket list; so it is written, so it shall be done. Right??!?

I have a bit of a funny attitude about this return, and I’m sure a Psychologist could analyze it perfectly, but I think I know what’s going on in my head.

As I see it, there are 2 main types of knowledge, or “smarts” we obtain in life: street smarts and book smarts. Things you learn from life experience, and things you learn via reading and being structurally taught in an academic setting. Having both is quite vital to making it in this world. (Trust me, I knew a girl who had perfect grades, but zero common sense....it was astounding to me how intelligent and dumb she was all at once. How she survived outside of the library I will never understand.)

As I am an average of 5-9 years older than the majority of the student body here, it is difficult to not have some sense of arrogance about me, as I have experienced more. I have lived in that “real world” our parents began threatening us with in High School. Why do I need to sit next to anyone who has never filed their own taxes? Paid their own cell phone bill? Gone grocery shopping or chosen to watch a Presidential Speech instead of a reality show? Don’t I know more than them? Shouldn’t I be given an honorary piece of paper stating I paid a lot of money and took a lot of classes? And how come one even needs a piece of paper to prove to employers out there that we are capable and deserving of a career? Why can’t an interview and on-the-job training suffice?

This defiance and defensiveness is mostly based off of fear and self-disappointment. Fear of standing out and not fitting in. It is uncomfortable going to class and sitting alone, while groups of 2 or 3 come in together, knowing each other from the previous semester, having signed up for the class together. Do I look old? I shouldn’t....I am not at the age of wrinkles and I am wearing boots, leggings, a chunky sweater and a scarf JUST LIKE every other female here...maybe if I incorporate catch-phrases like “hashtag yolo” and start taking more selfie’s I’ll be set.

Why am I even worried about this? One advantage I should have with my age is maturity. Self confidence. I should be proud to be me and not care what other people think. The High School popularity contest is long gone. And I’m just here for that piece of paper anyway...right?

So why the self-disappointment? Because I shouldn’t be here right now. I should have been here 5-9 years ago. That piece of paper should be in a dusty frame on the wall in the house I own in Suburbia. Another advantage I should have with my age is acceptance. Understanding that life turned out the way it did and it isn’t too late. The ability to not be debilitated by regret. There is a lot to be said about swallowing one's pride and taking a vulnerable leap.

I’m beginning to see that college, no matter when in your life you attend, is so much more than a piece of paper. Sure, each class you take specific to your major will allow you to be the best you can be in your specific career (how can you be what you want to be if you haven’t learned how to be it?). Yet beyond those “smarts” you get from those books, you need the “smarts” you learn from the elective courses, the diversity you see in the halls, the discipline you learn from simultaneously studying and working, the self-pride you gain when you get an A. That piece of paper isn’t just a gateway into employment, it is a symbol of the journey you took, all the work you put in, everything you experienced, and the person you became. That paper isn’t just a solitary journey. Sure, you did the work and it is solely yours, but during that journey you came across and were affected by many people. We feed off of each other. We learn from each other along with the books. That paper is so much more than ink on a former tree. And eventually, that expensive piece of paper allows you to cross #9 off of your bucket list, and proudly move on to #10.....or #5 because you skipped that one out of fear....and it will feel great.

I also must add, learning never stops. Be it from the books or from the streets, there is always something new to absorb. And I love it. It is part of the excitement of life. And I want to be an advocate of Education. There is substantial evidence showing a correlation between Education and crime/poverty rates. We may never achieve world peace, but if there is anything that can be done to make the world just a little better, even if only in one tiny place, it is worth it. And....as I am going for English Education, I would be the worst offender of hypocrisy if I didn’t complete my education. So, there’s that. ;)

Knowledge is Power!

READ!

Live. Love. Learn.

Life is a Stage….of many Stages.

Remember when you were 13 and everything about you was just...awkward? Full of puberty and emotions and acne? It is known as the awkward stage in life. Well, let me tell you what:

 

There comes another point in our lives, for most people at least, called the "quarter life crisis". It happens around the ages of 24-27, when we realize we have lost ourselves and must go on the soul-searching journey to find ourselves. The thing is, we don't reconnect with or find the person we used to be, we find the person we ultimately will become.

 

There are many stages of life, and we can become many different people during those stages. I am 27 and am still in this quarter life crisis stage (I think it may be lasting a bit longer than "normal") and I have never felt so awkward. Uncomfortable. A bit lost. And yet, quite excited! Big things are happening! I am embarking on the path that will lead me down to the rest of my life. Just as everyone else does every single day. No matter the stage in life.

A few years ago, as I was first entering this “quarter life crisis” stage, I thought, even in my awkwardness, that I had figured it all out. I had solved the mathematical equation to life. Recently, I have learned a few more things, one of them being that you never really do figure it ALL out. But here are a few more tidbits, pieces of wisdom that would be wonderful to be born knowing, but seem to be only learned through living.

-- Choose your living quarters wisely: a ceiling fan in the bedroom and living room is a must! (There is little worse than stagnant air) And wood floors are beautiful, but they don't hide dust bunnies. It may feel great to live in a house, but you must first decide if it is worth shoveling, and mowing, and paying to have your fridge repaired. Speaking of repairs, make sure the heat/AC/stove, etc. work. Trust me, they rarely get repaired in a timely manner and you're stuck for weeks sweating/freezing/microwave cooking.

 

-- Be honest. Not only with others, but especially yourself. Allow yourself to feel what you feel. Don’t hide or avoid your emotions. Confront the tough times head on with a confident and positive-as-possible attitude and you can do anything. Being open with others allows them to help you through it if they can. Accept the help.

 

-- Not everything works out the way we hope. There will be loss and letdowns and heartbreaks. But there will also be love, and happiness, and sweet surprises. Don’t give up. Keep on moving forward. Believe in life. Believe in yourself.

 

-- Try new things. It’s ok to be afraid, but it’s even better to conquer your fears. Eat sushi. Go skydiving. Say “hello” to someone new. Go back to school. Move away from home. Wear a different color. Whatever it is, big or small, step out of your comfort zone and experience an unknown part of the world around you. Your eyes will open. Your life will change.

 

-- Do good. Be good. It’s as simple as that. Be kind. Don’t assume. Don’t judge. Don’t hate someone’s differences, embrace them. Embrace your own. Or accept them and move along civilly. Smile. Say hello. And “please”. And “thank you”. The world will become a much better place.

 

-- Take care of yourself. Drink water. Eat your vegetables. Get enough sleep. Move around. Brush (and floss!) your teeth. And don’t completely deny yourself of every indulgent happiness; grab a beer, eat some chocolate.

 

-- Budget. Save. Don’t be frivolous. Again, don’t deny yourself everything you want, but make sure you’re still able to have all you need.

-- We are born into this life tiny and helpless, surviving only by the love and care of our parents. After years of growing in wisdom and gaining strength, we eventually get to the point where we return the favor.

-- Keep calm and have patience. The most difficult virtue to attain. But it keeps you calm. Keeps your levels in check. You cant control everything. Sometimes things are just the way they are. Sometimes you just have to wait. Deal with it.

-- You cant choose love. It chooses for you. Just because someone doesn't love you the way you want doesn't mean they don't love you with all they have. And even though they may love you with all they have doesn't mean it's right.

-- Communicate.  Keep in touch. Friends, family, neighbors, whoever. Don’t let someone important to you slip through your fingers. While time alone is sometimes needed, loneliness is so cold and dark. Communication can also be the key to preventing or resolving conflict. Talk. Be open. Uncork the bottle of your thoughts and emotions.

-- Don't leave anything behind. You never know where life may take you. Feelings change. That shirt you left on the bed? The toothbrush in the drawer? The movie in the dvd player? It’s much more difficult to get back after someone has become a regret. Just take it with you unless you are sure you can live without it, or you can’t live without them.

-- Make a bucket list. Big dreams, little dreams, simple things, impossible things. Write it down and one thing at a time, do whatever you can in your life to get a step closer to making at least one dream come true. And when it does, work towards another. Some of the best feelings are those of accomplishment and self-pride.

-- Wear sunscreen.  The temporary tan or burn isn't worth it. And every few years or so, porcelain skin is in.

-- Get to know yourself. Find your passions and strengths. Embrace them. Let them shine. "To thine own self be true". Follow your dreams, not someone else's.  Go where you want to go, and don't let anyone make you feel guilty for being "selfish"...this is after all, YOUR life.

-- And lastly (for now), don’t be afraid to make mistakes. As my hero Bob Ross said, “There are no mistakes, only happy accidents.” How true, how true. Chin up. And if by chance embarrassment creeps up on you, just think of me today...It is my 1st day back at college (University of Wisconsin - La Crosse), after taking a break for a few years. 1st day, 1st class, I was in the wrong room. Right next door to the correct room. I might as well have been living that “naked in front of an audience” nightmare. Talk about awkward. I’m 27 and maybe returning to college was too lofty of a goal....I should have returned to Sesame Street first to review my numbers.

Ahhh life.

She -- The Ruby Slipper version

Yesterday, December 6th, marked 24 years since my mother went missing.

A lot happens in 24 years.

It’s a quarter of a lifetime.

It was 1989. Look at how the world has changed since then. Music, the internet, text messaging, fashion, everything. I have grown up, I have changed. Many times. I am no longer that 3 year old. And I barely remember the few memories I had of her.

I have seen the movie “The Wizard of Oz” at least a hundred times. When I was little, after she disappeared, my father went back to school to get his college degree. During his night classes my grandparents would come over and watch me. For about a month and a half straight, until my grandmother could take it no longer, “The Wizard of Oz” was the nightly movie of choice.

It’s strange, growing up and seeing pictures of my mother, hearing stories, it still seems like a strange Grimm’s Fairy Tale that was told to me. Not something that actually happened and was once a part of my life. The thought of flying monkeys and talking scarecrows seem more realistic. I remember thinking that if I clicked my heals just like Dorothy that somehow, everything would go back to normal. I would be back over that rainbow, living this magical life with both of my parents just as I should.

That feeling and those dreams eventually faded. Days, then weeks, and sometimes even months would go bye without a thought of her.

I was told she said she had a conference to go to. I was told her work called my father that next day asking where she was. I was told there was no such conference, and her whereabouts were unknown. I have spent 24 years “knowing” she left us.

A few years ago I had written a blog in what I believed was from her viewpoint of the event. For most of my life I had felt abandoned. unloved. bitter. I often found myself running away from people and any sort of confrontation and I blamed it on her. I said the only thing she ever taught me was to leave. Soon I didn’t see her as an actual person that existed or may still exist, but an excuse for every negative thing about me. I had heard she could be stubborn and independent to the point of selfish. Unaffectionate to the point of unloving. Yet free-spirited and quite artistic with her words and her camera. Sometimes I thought she was an entity of my past and an image of my future self.

A few weeks ago, all of that changed.

I had received an email from an officer who had reopened the case and was determined to solve the mystery. So sure she hadn’t left. Certain something had happened. It was during this 2 hour conversation that I learned more about my mother and the woman she was than I had ever known, or really, cared to know. In so many ways it was easier to accept she didn’t care and had just left. If she happened to be an amazingly loving mother and was taken from me, well, it seems so much more heartbreaking. I know that sounds confusing, and I’m sure my viewpoint on that will eventually change, but when the mind accepts something a certain way in order to cope and move on, any sort of shift in that mindset can be very difficult to deal with, especially with something so heavy.

So, yesterday, knowing the 24th anniversary was here, and with these new feelings on who she was and who she might have been, I foraged deep within the cave of boxes in my basement and found gold. I found every article she had written for the Burlington Standard Press, love letters between she and my father, and even letters of congratulations from her boss when she took a new opportunity elsewhere (he stated he was “excited she was one step closer to her dream of writing for the New York Times’. I want to write for the New York Times. It was a beautiful moment to feel so connected). I went back to my old photo albums and saw the pictures of the two of us in a whole new light.

For the first time in 24 years I felt loved. I felt connected. I felt I missed her. I felt she was real.

And I felt, for just a moment, if I clicked my heals together just right, maybe I could see her face just one more time.

Hold on to those you have. Give them all of your love, every moment you can.

Kerry O'Brien Krueger - Missing Person Report

KEEP CALM and...

...well that’s it. Just keep calm. Calm down. Wooosaahhh. Simmer.

After 11 years of working in some avenue of the Customer Service industry, I have discovered my biggest pet peeve. Also, I have found that a lot of people are assholes. And it just can’t be necessary.

The pet peeve part? Here goes:

I’m doing my job, whatever it may be: refilling their coffee, completing their transaction of the sale of a shirt, or a cell phone payment, or their paycheck deposit. Upon completion, this is the most common way the conversation goes:

Me: Alright, you’re all set! Have a great day! :)

Them: Yep.

.........waiting........*they walk/drive away*..........*my jaw drops*........

Seriously!??!?!? All I get is “Yep”??!!? First of all the lack of manners is appalling (Um, YOU’RE WELCOME!!!!! Thanks for saying THANKS!!!), but what’s worse, is I wish upon you a “great day” and you just take it and run with a “Yep”?!?!?!? Do you not hope I also have a good day? Is saying “You too” just too many syllables for your vocal chords and mouth to form that a singular “Yep” is all you can possibly muster? I mean really people. Really. You don’t have to spend hours of your day daydreaming all of the wonderful things you possibly could hope to happen to me, you don’t even have to deep down truly mean it. But seriously. Say “you too” when someone tells you to have a nice day, or else you’re just a jerk who deserves to step into a deep puddle. How rude!

Continuing on that note, when did we become so elitist? And where did this sense of entitlement come from!?!??

I truly believe, while the government may be a bit too “involved” in certain aspects of our lives, it should be law that everyone’s first job should be in Customer Service. The world would learn a lot. And I bet there would be a decrease in big meanies.

Until that happens, here are a few lessons I have learned, and a few pieces of advice I’d love to pass on:

1. When you are at the bank, or the cell phone store, or liquor store, or WHEREVER, and they ask for your ID, just show it!! Don’t say “Why?” or “Well they know me here” or anything other than “Sure!”. I don’t care who knows you or how famous you think you are, in many businesses, it is their company’s policy to ask for identification. Even if I am working and you are my relative or best friend, I have to ask you or I will be fired. And I mean really, in many cases it’s for your own protection that it is verified. And if you think your picture is bad.....well.....you are showing that same face in public right now....so....stay inside if it’s that big of a deal. Or do you not want to show it because it is just too difficult for you to pull it out of your purse or back pocket? Well then you’re probably the same lazy person who won’t say “You too” when I wish you a good day. Or wait, what? You left your ID at home like always? Well have fun when you get pulled over and get an extra ticket for not having ID on you. See? It’s the LAW!!! (Or do you also tell the officer that you don’t need it since they all know you down at the precinct? Well, aren’t you special.)

2. Don’t yell at the bank teller if you have an overdraft fee. Or the cashier at the cell phone store when you have a late fee. (Yes, I have been told, “You charged me a fee and I am not going to pay it!”.....well, no Mr. Ass, I didn’t. I did not physically look up your account to see if you were late or had a negative balance and then physically put a fee on there. The company’s automated system did that. If you were responsible and paid on time or were smart enough to balance your account, this wouldn’t have happened. It is 100% your own fault.) TRUE STORY: I was working as a rep at a cell store, and a man came in saying he needed to get his phone repaired, and this was the 3rd time he was coming in. He proceeded to tell me that I didn’t fix it right the first 2 times and I needed to pay his insurance fees and blah blah blah....I kept calm and matter of factly told him that I am not a tech so I have never touched his phone before. I also can’t afford to pay his insurance fees but if I was rich I would love to pull my debit card out and pay the $$ that needs to be paid for the phone that he initially dropped and broke. After more yelling and finger pointing I find out that it is actually his wife’s phone and he’s just in there trying to get it fixed because he is so tired of her complaining and yelling at him for it not working properly. To which I responded, “So you’re sick of your wife yelling at you so you come in and yell at a stranger in hopes that will fix things?” A million rude comments from him later, while I continue to sit back calmly with a smile on my face (which no doubt made him more upset) a coworker came up to us, slammed his hand down on my desk and yelled, “HEY! You are not going to be so rude to her any more. It’s your fault the phone is broken, if you want it fixed you have to pay. That’s the policy. And if you just feel like yelling at someone yell at me!” The man got up and muttered something under his breath, but I made sure before he walked out the door to say, “Have a nice day!!!”....he didn’t respond.

3. Expanding on this finger pointing and “you did this” thing.....understand the difference between the person who just works there and the actual company/automated occurrences. If your cell tower is down, the rep at the store did not turn that tower off. So don’t blame them. If the website where you pay your bills is down, the rep did not shut the website off. If the coupon expired yesterday and you were out of town and could only go shopping today, it was not the representative who chose the sale dates, or forced you to go out of town then. (There will be another coupon next week, for sure.) If the store has set a limit of 10 in $1 flip flops, and you have 32 children, again, the rep did NOT make that happen....most likely....Either way, stuff happens. sometimes it’s beyond anyone’s control, and if you really feel like you are SOOO important that YOU specifically deserve special treatment (ever hear the saying, “well if I make an exception for one I have to make an exception for all”?....don’t be greedy. You aren’t better than anyone.) try being nice, and say things like “please” and “thank you” and “HAVE A NICE DAY” !!!!

4. Tip your servers and bartenders. Seriously. Just do it. If you can afford a drink or a meal but can’t afford a decent tip on top of it, YOU CAN’T AFFORD TO GO OUT. Yes, I understand it is of their own choosing to work at a place where they get $2something an hour, but maybe their choices are limited....you don’t know, and you shouldn’t judge. Either way, it’s their job and they work hard. If they’re taking longer than preferred to bring you a refill, look around! Is it busy? Do they have other tables? (again, you aren’t the only and most important person.) When they ask you if there is anything else you need, and you say “a napkin” and then they come back with one and then you say, “Oh can I also get butter?” and then they come back with that and then you ask for......STOP! Ask for it all at once! Servers are amazing at carrying multiple things at once, plus, all of your demanding is wasting their time, other tables’ time, and even your precious time. If you have children, control them. This is a topic I could spend a million paragraphs on, but in short: don’t let them run around, if they throw their entire meal everywhere you should at least clean some of it up, and if they are screaming and yelling you need to invest in a muzzle or a babysitter. Your child can affect everyone in the entire restaurant, and everyone deserves an enjoyable dining experience.

There are many many many more lessons I could teach, but we'll just start with this. In general, be patient. Keep calm. Be nice. Things happen, people have bad days, but don’t you think that if you’re having a bad day, maybe the person you are being rude to is also having a bad day? And you’re just making it worse. Or maybe their day was fine....until you came along.

That being said, I’d like a give you all a challenge. Actually 2. First of all, say “you too” when someone says, “Have a nice day”. Second, try to give at least one stranger one compliment. Be it every day, every couple days, once a week, whenever. Every so often, throw something nice out there.

“I like your shirt”

“Oooh! Pretty eye makeup!”

“Hey! Neat shoes!”

“Here, let me get the door for you.”

You never know what your nice gesture can do for someone.

Do Good. Be Good.

Make yourself a blessing to someone. Your kind smile or pat on the back just might pull someone back from the edge. ~Carmelia Elliot

What Would You Do?

The other night I was driving to what would have been my 3rd yoga class when something big happened. It was about quarter after 6pm, on one of the first fall-like evenings of the year. it felt simply beautiful driving with the window down, hand out, riding in the wind.

Suddenly I heard tires screeching. I looked up, and beyond the 5 or 6 cars ahead of me I saw smoke. Then fire. Then the screams reached my ears. I can’t tell you what it was but something pulled at my heart. I immediately crossed the other southbound lane to the left of me, and pulled into the median, facing the northbound lane. I left my car, unlocked, window still rolled down, and wallet on my seat, and ran toward the burning car and piles of mutilated metal and glass. A woman stopped me, frantic, “Can I please use your phone? I need to call my husband.” As I handed her my phone I asked if she was hurt. She wasn’t. So I left it with her and ran towards the worst part of the scene. Three men were hovering over the man they had just pulled out of the burning car. He was flailing and screaming. They were pressing a blanket on his severe head wound.

“Is there anyone else in the car?” I asked.

There wasn’t.

I turned around and faced the other car involved. Two men were helping the man still in the drivers seat. I saw a woman, pacing and crying, holding her side with blood coming out of her mouth and all over her left hand. It was her husband still in the car. Her two daughters, also passengers, were sitting on the side of the road, in shock but not visibly badly injured. So I stayed with the woman. I asked her name. Linda. She was terrified for her husband, still stuck in the car, trying to move with the help of the 2 strangers. I finally was able to get Linda to sit, by putting her in view of her husband. We got him to tell her he was ok. She had just returned from Mayo....for her cancer treatment. She said she would never get into a car again.

Finally after what seemed like an eternity, a multitude of police, fire and paramedic personnel arrived. One officer got behind Linda, crouching in the grass behind her, and stabalized her neck. A paramedic in front of her assessed her injuries and bandaged her hand. I let go of her just for a moment to retrieve my phone to get ahold of her brother for her. He didn’t answer. She begged us not to call her father, for “he was too old, and has already been through too much”. I refocused my attention to her, holding her other hand, when the officer asked me to do him a favor. “These mosquitos are terrible and I can’t move as I am holding her head straight. Will you smack them for me?” Before my first slap on his forehead I asked if he was sure - it isn’t every day you’re allowed to hit a cop. He nodded and with each smack of those pests upon his skin I apologized. One unreal and nearly humorous moment in a situation even more unreal and much more horrible.

As it became evident my “help” was less needed, I stepped back and watched the scene.

The firefighters dousing the melted car. The paramedics securing neck braces and hoisting each person on a gurney. The police officers getting statements from each witness, each stranger, each hero. I found myself standing next to a young woman, she looked to be about my age. She had been enjoying the seemingly beautiful evening with a bike ride, when he heard the same tire screeches I had, but they were much closer for her. A car which had swerved out of the way, luckily unharmed (the woman who asked me for my phone) nearly clipped the black of this young woman’s bike in trying to stay out of the accident. But her tires, and quite possibly her life, were spared. She quickly decided when this was settled down and we were able to go she would take the quick way home. After a few more minutes, watching the ambulances begin to drive away and the investigations and clean-up processes start, she said the magnitude of what actually just happened around her was just beginning to hit. She was going to call for a ride home. She tried several friends but no one answered. The scene was nearly clear now and the officer we had spoken to said it was fine for us to leave.

I turned to her and said, “I have the smallest car in the world, but let me take you home. we’ll fit your bike in there somehow”.

She agreed and we walked ourselves and her bike toward the middle of the 4-lane highway where I had left my car. Window still down. Wallet still on seat. As she was taking her front tire off in order to fit it into my tiny little vehicle better, it was then that we finally introduced ourselves. Her name was Taylor. We left the scene, maneuvering through the last remaining emergency vehicles and I drove her back to her dorm downtown. We were both a bit shocked but not too much for friendly conversation during the drive. She is a computer science major. She asked if I was a nurse because I seemed so calm and knowledgeable about Linda possibly having an internal injury. I said I wasn’t.

When we arrived, as she was reassembling her bike, I thought, maybe everything does happen for a reason. Maybe there is such a thing as being at the right place at the right time. and maybe, everyone who comes into your life, no matter in what way or how fleeting their presence may be, maybe they are supposed to be there. Maybe everything means something. Or maybe it doesn’t. But still, I gave her my number (and of course facebook info....I mean, this day in age....) and said, if you need a friend, or a ride, or anything, I’m here. And we’ve spoken since.

And everyone involved in the accident will be just fine.

When I finally drove home that night, much earlier than if I would have made it to my yoga class, I pulled into my driveway, looked up and the now dark and star-filled sky and started shaking. What if it had all turned out worse? I was 20 feet from a vehicle completely engulfed in flames. Linda and everyone else stayed conscious the entire time, but what if she hadn’t? What if those men wouldn’t have stopped to pull a stranger from that burning car? What if I hadn’t stopped? It may be silly to dwell on the “what if’s”, but everything you do, and even choose not to do affects the very next event in your life. And even sometimes later events. And even sometimes other people’s lives.

What would you do?

Check. Check. Check.

The first and greatest victory is to conquer yourself; to be conquered by yourself is of all things most shameful and vile.  ~Plato

Look at everything as though you were seeing it either for the first or last time.  ~Betty Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

I thought growing up was something that happened automatically as you got older.  But it turns out it's something you have to choose to do.  ~From the television show Scrubs

The ball of panicking nerves that I was is no more. At least not for my yoga class.

It was a great first class - quite the workout, yet very relaxing. Yes, I was sore the next day...right now my body is quite wimpy...but my goodness was I relieved of much of my stress! My “classmates” and instructor are wonderful, and I am definitely quite proud of myself....which is something quite rare for me to say.

The days of someone glaring at me from behind braces and a peanut butter sandwich saying I look funny are over! Granted, today I still tripped twice and spilled coffee on my shirt....but thats just an every day occurrence. Still awkward, but at least I have confidence in my awkwardness.

6 more classes to go and I can officially cross #3 off of my list.

I feel so rejuvenated. So empowered. So mighty!

So I decided to start working on another bucket list item.

#9. Return to and finish college.

I spent the afternoon yesterday getting the first steps all completed. I filled out applications for both UW-LaCrosse and Viterbo University, and all the other requirements such as FAFSA and transcript requests. I feel productive and accomplished! Which is another set of feelings I rarely have.

Yet now, the next steps lie in the hands of other people - admissions counselors.

For the next few weeks I have to sit back and play the waiting game.

This is my least favorite game.

I hate having not having full control of a situation.

If I force myself to look at the bright side, I should be a pro at patience by the time the news comes.

Patience is very becoming. Or something.

Until then, myself and my new-found confidence will be jamming out to a “new-age-new-view-it’s-not-so-bad-and-easier-than-I-thought-why-have-I-been-hiding-under-a-rock-hey-cute-guy-would-you-like-to-go-get-coffee” playlist -->

1. Heartbeat - Kopecky Family Band

2. Awkward - San Cisco

3. Applause - Lady Gaga

4. From the Morning - Nick Drake

5. There is a Light that Never Goes Out - The Smiths

6. Piazza, New York Catcher - Belle & Sebastian

7. I Love It - Icona Pop

8. Home - Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeros

9. Mrs. Robinson - Simon and Garfunkel

10. The Promise - When In Rome

11. Can’t You See - The Marshall Tucker Band

12. Against the Wind - Bob Seger

13. Stay - Rihanna

14. Cleopatra - Minature Tigers

15. Good to Sea - Pinback

16. Up - Rob Crow

17. She Doesn’t Get It - The Format

18. Books from Boxes - Maximo Park

19. I Feel It All - Feist

20. Caring Is Creepy - The Shins

21. Major Tom - Shiny Toy Guns

feel free to jam out too!

...and ask that crush out for a coffee.

....and start your own “live without regrets” bucket list, and get to work!!!

in no particular order.

:)

Fear and Awkwardness in Wisconsin

Nothing in life is to be feared.  It is only to be understood.  ~Marie Curie



Decide that you want it more than you are afraid of it.  ~Bill Cosby

To fear is one thing.  To let fear grab you by the tail and swing you around is another.  ~Katherine Paterson, Jacob Have I Loved

To conquer fear is the beginning of wisdom.  ~Bertrand Russell

clumsiness? check.

lack of confidence? check.

awkward? check.

suddenly a first-time victim of fainting spells and panic attacks? check.

In 5th grade, a 6th grader (who’s name I definitely remember and is NOT a Facebook friend!) told me in gym class that I run funny. At lunch she told me I chewed funny.

I’m fairly certain this was the closest I ever had to being bullied, which is by no means complaint-worthy at all, but it has clearly and pathetically stuck with me.

I have a fear of gyms and have never (since once in High School) signed up for any type of exercise class. As I begin to notice aging and post-breakup changes in my body, I’ve decided it’s really time to get over my childhood self-esteem issues and actually take care of myself.

I haven’t worked out in 3 years. The closest thing I’ve had to exercise was 1 Level 1 video session of “The Biggest Loser Yoga” 4 months ago. I usually eat fairly healthy but certainly have my more-than-fair share of Wisconsin foods: beer, cheese, and fried anything.

So I signed up for a Tuesday night 7 week Yoga class downtown.

(If you remember from my “Zero Score and 7 years ago...” blog, this is #3 on the Bucket List (aka “Fulfilling My Dreams”/”Finally Feeling Alive”/”Get Out of Rock Bottom” List))

It starts tomorrow.

I am a ball of panic attacking nerves. I want to throw up. I’ll probably just end up shaking and hyperventilating.

But it’s good to get out of one’s comfort zone. It increases metabolism. Or something.

And of course I have an “Up and At ‘Em - Motivate Me” playlist.

1. Tap the Phone --> Francis and the Lights

2. Wonder --> Dan Black

3. Tonight is the Night --> Outasight

4. Dynamite --> Taio Cruz

5. La Belle et la Bete --> Big Soul

6. E-Pro --> Beck

7. Feel So Close --> Calvin Harris

8. You Make Me Feel --> Cobra Starship

9. Blurred Lines --> Robin Thicke

10. Sail --> AWOLNATION

11. Undercover Martyn --> Two Door Cinema Club

12. My Body --> Young the Giant

13. Walking On A Dream --> Empire of the Sun

14. Safe and Sound --> Capital Cities

15. Carried Away --> Passion Pit

16. Burn it All Down --> VHS or Beta

17. Fall Down --> will.i.am

18. Anything Could Happen --> Ellie Goulding

19. Embers --> Just Jack

20. Terminally Chill --> Neon Indian

Listen.

And Get Up and Get Motivated!

lose your inhibitions.

Do Something.

On Love

“We loved with a love that was more than love” - Edgar Allan Poe

“You can’t choose love, it chooses for you.”

“When love is not madness, it is not love” - Pedro Calderon de la Barca

“Just because someone doesn’t love you the way you want, doesn’t mean they don’t love you with everything they have.”

I remember the day the walls came crashing down.

Actually it was the same day I came crashing down.

I fainted at work.

I am 27 years old and am just learning what love really is. What it feels like. How much it can hurt. And how perfectly wonderful it can be. Even still, I don’t fully understand it.

There are many types of love.

Love between family. Between the best of friends. Crushes, flings, infatuation, puppy love...summer love, true love...

I recently ended a 6.5 year relationship with quite possibly, the perfect man. And that makes zero sense, right? Well, I have learned a few things over these last several years.

Love is the most wonderful thing to both give and receive. It may not actually make the world go round, but it does make the world a better place. Having it can make you the happiest you have ever been. Yet losing it can make you feel the worst.

It isn’t easy. Even if it’s “right” it still takes work. How do you know when you know that it is right and true? When the work is worth it. When the happy times flow freely and the hard times can be worked through. I’ve said so many times that these days no one loves like our grandparents loved. High School sweethearts that made it through the Great Depression, World War II and raising 5 kids with one bathroom in the house. These days it seems like divorce papers are filed faster than the speed of light. It seems the desire to work for love isn’t there. We give up instantly. But maybe for good reason... Maybe we know they aren't “the one”. Is it worth the fight if it isn't right?

Just because someone may be “perfect”, doesn’t mean they are perfect for you. He was smart, funny, loving, selfless, affectionate, driven, supportive, attractive and successful. And if that isn’t enough, his family was simply wonderful. So what was the problem? Nothing, really, except for the plain fact that after years together, meeting at a young stage in our lives, we grew apart. Mostly it was me, growing up, growing into who I am. We stopped laughing and started nit-picking. The things I was interested it, he could care less about. After some time, the emotional distance took a toll. We took some time apart, had some time to grow, to think, and even to see other people. Eventually we met again and tried. We tried for 2 more years. I think it mostly came down to the fact that I just couldn’t love him the way he needed. The way he deserved. I loved him. Truly and deeply. But I wasn’t in love with him. He said we became like roommates. Sadly, we were barely even friends anymore.

Towards the end I was so unhappy, but avoided the truth and thought that if I changed everything else in my life, maybe the relationship would somehow get better. I got a new job, started getting back into my hobbies and things I enjoyed that I had left in the dark. I focused on all the reasons why he was perfect and why I really should love him. But still, the inevitable hit me like a wall and the emotional overload took its toll. And I spent a day in the ER. He recognized it. Asked me if I was staying with him just because I would feel guilty for breaking his heart. The thing was, I was breaking it even more by staying there. He was in love, but he wasn’t happy. And it was my fault. So I took a long weekend and went away to the safest, most relaxing place I could think of: my parents’ house. The entire time I was there, it just felt right. Every moment was enlightening. I returned home and he knew. He felt it. And we talked. Like mature adults, matter-of-factly. This was it. I stayed for 2 weeks while I worked on transferring jobs and making living arrangements (which ended up being 27-year-old-me moving back home with my parents...which is a whole different blog...). Strangely enough, those last 2 weeks were the best we had gotten along in a few years. We laughed a lot, spent so much time together, talked about anything and everything. And we cried. A lot. And eventually, we said goodbye. Now it has been 2 months since I have spoken to the person I had talked to daily for 6 1/2 years. It may be the right thing, but at the same time it is the strangest, and hardest thing. I tried to love him. I wanted to. But I couldn’t. It just wasn’t meant to be.

But is anything really meant to be? Is destiny real? Does fate exist? Do we walk through this life as a pawn in a game of predetermined love? Is there really a “the one” for us? Another thing I have learned is that throughout our own individual lives, we ourselves will be many different people. We grow and change so much, and I don’t think it ever comes to a complete stop. So, finding one person perfect for us can only mean that we find someone perfect for who we are at any given moment. Or, even more impossible, finding someone who will be perfect for us throughout all of our changes. They change perfectly right along with us. Perfection means without flaw. Arguments come about because of flaws. And no relationship is without any sort of disagreement. It’s how we react to those flaws and communicate through those disagreements that shows us how “nearly perfect” a person is for us. It’s the good and the bad. Or, “for better or for worse” as they say. There are over 7 billion people on this planet. While each unique, many of us are so similar, and would fit together quite well. I estimate this means there are at least 100 “the one’s” for us. That being said, when one love ends, don’t be discouraged. Another love....a better love....possibly the best love...is out there. Just remember to be yourself. Being loved is wonderful, but being loved for exactly who you are is perfect.

Here's what I say:

“sometimes one of life’s hardest lessons is knowing which way to walk...towards something or away from it.”

“sometimes it’s worth it just to feel...even if it was never real.”

As silly as it may seem, I have found someone who said it just right, in far less words than I have. No one understands love the way South Park character Butters Stotch does:

Butters Stotch, on being dumped and having his heart stepped on with stiletto shoes:

“Yeah I’m sad, but at the same time I’m really happy that something can make me feel that sad. It’s like, it makes me feel alive, you know? It makes me feel human. The only way I could feel this sad now is if I’ve felt something really good before. So I have to take the bad with the good. So I guess what I’m feeling is like a beautiful sadness.”

But if neither my words, nor Butters’ can make you feel and understand love the way you want to, this surely will:

The BEST love song mixtape (yes, i said mixtape. it will always sound better than “playlist” or “mixed cd”. 10 points for 90’s nostalgia.) ever:

1. Boats and Birds --> Gregory and the Hawk

2. Fix You --> Coldplay

3. A Thousand Years --> Christina Perri

4. Wake Up --> Coheed and Cambria

5. We Found Each Other In The Dark --> City and Colour

6. Someone Like You --> Adele

7. The Night Will Always Win --> Elbow

8. Such Great Heights --> The Postal Service

9. Lover, You Should Have Come Over --> Jeff Buckley

10. I and Love and You --> The Avett Brothers

11. I Will Follow You Into The Dark --> Death Cab For Cutie

12. Til Kingdom Come --> Coldplay

13. Dust to Dust --> The Civil Wars

14. No One’s Gonna Love You --> Band of Horses

15. Everlasting Light --> The Black Keys

16. I Won’t Give Up --> Jason Mraz

17. Us --> Regina Spektor

18. After Hours --> We Are Scientists

Enjoy.

And let yourself fall in love.

Ish My Autistic Teenage Brother Says

Teenage boys are weird.

Throw a little Aspergers into the mix and you’ve really got a kid that says the darndest things .

Did I mention he’s also a Ginger???

;)

“I think the Ferris Wheel was going a little too fast. The purpose of a Ferris Wheel is to see things, and if it’s going too fast, well it just defeats the purpose.”

“A good excuse for why your parents aren’t home is “they got murdered in Iceland”.”

“Can’t really go do anything when you have your favorite cat in your lap.”

*walks into my room* “I’m gonna do some planking.” *lays down on the ground*

“One of these days some 14-year-old is going to click on something on his desktop and suddenly the whole world is going to end.”

Jeff: I wish I had a clarinet

Me: Would you know what to do with one?

Jeff: Oh I can make it sing til Hollywood, my friend! Or at least til MoTown if I’m on a limited budget.

“Why ask teachers when you can just ask Google?”

“”Up” is more of a love story in the first 20 minutes than “Twilight” can even try to be in all 4 of its books. Fact.”

“Whoever created that old “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” movie must have been on some sort of acid or LSD trip.”

“Her boobs are so huge. They look like they are going to explode. Enough PSI and it’ll kill her.”

Jeff: I’m glad you’re feeling better.

Me: Thanks. It could have been worse though.

Jeff: Yeah, North Korea could be invading us.

"When I was younger, I used to look up to you. Now I’m older, and taller, and now you look up to me!"

Jeff: You’re my mentor. I really look up to you.

Me: Aww, thanks Jeff, that’s really sweet.

Jeff: Yeah. Have you ever seen the South Park episode called “Pee”?

“If you’re gonna jump out of an airplane, make sure you land on your knees....or have a jetpack.”

“Ugh. Kids these days. They’re always dating and texting on their cell phones. Why can’t they pay attention to anything important? Like reading “Consumer Reports”.

“I think in this economy people should really buy American cars. People are really getting fooled by foreign cars.”

“My armpits smell like beef and cheese.”

Me: I can do whatever I want

Jeff: Is it because you are 27?

Me: Yes

“I like "South Park" because it is so politically INcorrect.”

“I hope dad doesn’t get Alzheimer’s and have to go to a nursing home. Then he’d be more angry than he already is.”

“If dad died right now I’d get to drive his Lincoln Mark VIII.”

“Every day, you think I go to school, but really I go to the Cayman Islands and party.”

“Our 8th grade trip is to Washington DC this year. You know, if I go into politics I’ll be living in DC. When I’m on the trip I should look into good places to live out there.”

“Dad, you should really cut back on the Pepsi One. All that soda can lead to a heart attack.”

“Oh mom, you worry too much. You’re just stuck in the 1940’s.”

((our mom was born in ’59...))

After my recent breakup: “I’m sorry about your sad situations. But it’ll be ok. At least you have me.”

“I’m worried about this road trip with dad. What if we’re driving and he has a heart attack? Am I going to have to drive, do CPR and call 911 all at once?”

“I hope you’re car’s ok. I’d hate for it to overheat. Especially if you’re on some backroads. And at night. That would just be the worst possible situation.”

“I can’t believe they are giving iPads to 5th graders. 5th graders are in no way responsible enough.”

Me: What do you want to be when you grow up?

Jeff: Something to do with politics. Or engineering. Or business. I’d like to own my own business someday....like an ice cream shop. Oh man, that would be so cool. I would just eat ice cream every day.

“I’m trying to think of some options to get out of Band Camp....the stomach flu? No, too cliche. I know. I got abducted by aliens.”

.......each day, something truly awesome comes out of that kid’s mouth.

#Jeffisms

You're Never Too Old for Your First Time

I’m 27, and believe it or not, I still hold on to a lot of v-cards. But the last month has been filled with a plethora of firsts. I feel so liberated! I definitely see the world with wide open, experienced eyes! Let me tell you all about my new experiences:

1. Eating a Twinkie

Yes. You read correctly. I tried a Twinkie for the first time. I bet you are just astounded. even last year when the end of life for the cream-filled sponge cake treat was looming, I was not partaking with the masses and rushing to the store. Eating one of these American classics was never on my bucket list. But, when they made their comeback my boss brought a box in to work and they were just sitting there. Peer pressuring me with the bright colors and flashy tagline: “The sweetest comeback ever”. I grabbed one, took a bite out of nostalgia and instantly wished I hadn’t. The sticky, soggy, stale texture alone was worth a spit out. It tasted of preservatives and ickiness. My tastebuds were pissed. Here’s proof that you don’t need to try everything once.

2. An Overheated Engine

The recent heat wave has shown no mercy. My “little engine that could”, Cupcake, almost could not. It was high noon on the hottest day of the year. Suddenly, the A/C went out and I was punched in the face with thick, sweltering heat blasting out of my vents. The needle on the temperature gauge was rising. I was so close to home. I heard my ’97 Kia Sephia trying to stay alive and make it up the hill, “I think I can, I think I can...” Finally, we pulled into the driveway, just as the steam was escaping from under the hood. We made it. But due to an aging seal, poor Cupcake’s radiator was dry. Luckily, thanks to ebay and an automotive-minded father, Cupcake will make it through another beastly summer.

3. A Counterfeit Bill (....and other Northside banking experiences)

About a month ago I moved from Never-heard-of-it-Small-Town, WI to La Crosse, WI. I was able to transfer to the local bank branch up here. I went from a cliental of mainly senior citizens who have lived there for generations, everybody knew everybody and they all had an opinion of everybody’s business, to a larger city of 51,000+ people, and a North side that was home to some very interesting characters, and a bit of crime. I was instantly told stories of hold-ups, counterfeits, and the woman who calls daily making sure no one from the government got into her safety deposit box. Only when I lived in Sanford, FL for a few years was I ever witness to any crime. Small Town, WI was a pretty quiet place. So, was I excited when during one deposit, the counter machine detected a counterfeit! I felt like I was in a movie. Not really. But it was still pretty neat. The bill was clearly a fake - those criminals need a bit more practice, but it was a decent effort. The cops came, took the green paper and pretty quickly knew the culprit. Which almost made me feel like I was in an episode of CSI. Again, not really. But still neat. The week ended with a few other notable sitings: A shirtless man on a unicycle. A bullet casing in the parking lot (44 Magnum). The SWAT team running through a Meth bust drill (it’s becoming a problem around here). Peaches. (check out her YouTube!) I love this town.

4. My first photoshoot of a person

I love photography. (check out my Flickr photostream!) I can see almost anything and find it beautiful and interesting. Memories may fade but photography can make any moment seem infinite. The can turn any object into art. I post the photos of my artsy excursions online, hoping others will appreciate the beauty I find, and one person appreciated it so much, she asked me to shoot her son’s 4 yr pictures for her! Flowers may move in the wind, sometimes making it hard to get the perfect shot, but they don’t move nearly as much as a 4-year-old boy. But after 2 hours and 2 parks, they turned out pretty well (see for yourself!), and even got me 3 more prospective clients! Success! This hobby may become a sidejob! Stay tuned!

5. Watched the original 1960’s Batman TV show

Smack! Bang!! Pow!!! In life there are just some classics that need to be experienced. Staples that need to be read, watched, listened to and visited. The 1960’s Batman television show starring Adam West is just that. Before 3D. Before HD. Before CGI. Simply entertaining. A must-see. You will shake your head. You will laugh. You will love it. Watch now!!

6. A Real Cliche of a Breakup.

After 6 1/2 years, my boyfriend and I broke up. Hence the aforementioned move from Small Town, WI to La Crosse, WI. At 27 I of course have gone through other breakups, but I’ve never really been too affected. I have always done the breaking up, and have always felt free and relieved rather than sad and lonely. But this one was different. This one was the first true love. This one hurt. This one changed me. It also took about a month to truly hit me. Last week I find myself to be the stereotypical character in a Romantic/Breakup Comedy. I was wearing yoga pants, drinking beer, eating ice cream and watching movies like “Serendipity”. I was having strange thoughts for the first time like, “I am going to be alone forever” and “I’ll never find anyone like him”. You’d think, that even though I again initiated the breaking up, that I’d be just fine. But I have learned that just because you are no longer in love with someone, that doesn’t mean you no longer love them. The phrase “It’s not you, it’s me” can ring true. And a broken heart can be felt physically. I have learned that I am not as stone-cold as I thought. There is a normal person inside me, with normal feelings, like love and lonliness. And right now, she wants chocolate. Excuse me while I binge....

Life. It isn’t always predictable. But it sure is interesting.

And every part of life has a soundtrack.

Here’s my current playlist, helping me along on my path of new experiences:

1. Help I’m Alive --> Metric

2. Fool In The Rain --> Led Zeppelin

3. Little Spark --> Jessie Baylin

4. Days --> The Drums

5. Close Your Eyes --> Young Love

6. Lover, You Should’ve Come Over --> Jeff Buckley

7. The Night Will Always Win --> Elbow

8. Born to Die --> Lana Del Rey

9. Safe and Sound --> Capital Cities

10. In The End --> The Royal Concept

11. Ho Hey --> The Lumineers

12. Young Blood --> The Naked and Famous

13. Everlasting Light --> The Black Keys

14. Carried Away --> Passion Pit

15. Little Talks --> Of Monsters and Men

16. Walking On A Dream --> Empire of the Sun

17. This Sweet Love --> James Yuill

18. We Looked Like Giants --> Death Cab for Cutie

Listen. Love. Live.