When I was 16 years old, my friends and I had what I hope all of us would call the best summer of our lives. Some of my memories may actually consist of two summers, the one after 9th grade, and the one after 10th grade, but the latter of which (aside from a few exceptional stories from the year before) was really the best summer.
Do you remember when summer really meant no responsibilities? As soon as that last bell rang through the school halls, it felt like we were freed forever from the wooden rulers of tyranny and number 2 pencils. The best part was, you weren't alone on that day. Everyone was celebrating with you and we'd pile onto the bus or in someone's car if one of our friends was a junior and was old enough to drive, and we'd be off into the unknown. Maybe we'd go to 711 and celebrate with taquitos and the latest flavor slurpee. Or, perhaps we would take a walk down to the ice cream barn and rent a movie from Linda's Video, to later stock up on junkfood and prepare for a pig pile of a sleepover at someone's house.
In any case, sometime over the course of the next couple of days there would be a campfire in my backyard on Brierly Pond. We would all bring our notebooks and class papers, tests and homework projects, just so we could throw them into the fire pit and say goodbye to another year at Millbury Memorial. I remember throwing in the summer reading list and watching that burn simply for good measure. "That's what SparkNotes are for," one of us would pipe in. Then we'd proceed to stay up until we heard birds chirping or someone's Mom called to make sure if there was a campout or they were coming home before the sun came up.
Beach days were savored and plotted, like a fantastic getaway of sand, sun and ocean water. We were lucky that you could drive about an hour in any form of Eastern direction and hit the shore. It practically made your whole week to get one day on a kingdom of relaxation, toe wiggling, and sun bathing. The ocean water was a sweet relief and a challenge of sorts, it was much
tougher to do handstands with waves hitting your legs than in a still
backyard pool. Fried food, ice cream or even pizza was always around some corner, right next door to a shop of tourist junk and funny trinkets. You wanted to stay in this funland forever... or at least until your skin started to bake.
My best friend Travis and I would sneak out on what seemed to be a regular basis. We owned the streets of Millbury, meeting fellow sneakouters at the park or wandering around downtown hoping someone's dad (also a cop) didn't pull over and threaten to tell our parents if we didn't turn around and go home. That actually happened often when we would sit in the "nest" (playhouse) of Elmwood st Park, but we would disperse and return later only to hop on the swings and smoke peach flavored cigars that Shaun bought for us. The first time I saw a group of kids doing drugs (and said no) was at Woolie World, or Washington st Park as it was also known.
Travis and I met our carnival working friend when we snuck into the Millbury 4th of July Carnival before it opened. We spent three sleepless nights talking and getting to know him at our homes, giving him a bed instead of that tent he was inhabiting on his summer travels. (if you're wondering, we did in fact get in trouble for that, our moms still tell us every summer to this day that we're not allowed to adopt any more Carnies...)
When I had campfires and friends over, everyone came. There were smores, chips, sodas, sometimes a flavored cigar getting passed around as though we were trying to be adults and had no idea what that really entailed. There would be the occasional nighttime canoe ride with a flashlight and giggling screams before the frantic paddle back to the group and the safety of the campfire. There was the time of Crazy Naked Man terrorizing the neighborhood, and Millbury Police disrupting our fun but enhancing it at the same time, while they hunted down the serial naked runner. (That's a longer story saved for a later post, or a book perhaps).
Then there were fireflies. They were everywhere that summer, all over the yard and down the street when we took walks. They seemed to follow us on canoe rides and light up our paddle strokes, and then greet us upon our return. Almost every laughter and tear drop of nighttime memories happened next to one of those glowing magical lightning bugs. I still get a little sad whenever I see one today. I dip into a nostalgic stupor, wondering if there's an old friend or my first love somewhere who still thinks of the same memories that I do when they catch a glimpse of those dancing blinking insects.
The days were long and lazy, sometimes rainy, but there was never any pressure of work, bills, obligations, schedules... Sometimes I compare that summer to what can only be described as a giant sigh of relief. When there were quite literally no worries in my life, and my only intent was to have as much fun as I possibly could. I ponder over those days whenever another summer comes along, wondering if I'll ever feel that way again. Waking up was easy and going to bed was a surrender after fighting sleep due to too much fun and ease of life. I wonder if it's my own head that I can't get out of, or there was something truly different about that year.
Maybe I just need a vacation. I think all of the rush and change of the past few months has made me feel like I had no breathing room. Still, will I ever feel that sigh of relief ever again? Maybe I should just become a writer and forget about the status quo. If only it were that easy anymore. Maybe our parents were right, that those lazy days really do become somewhat wasted, and we will truly never get them back. Did I already leave behind the best days of my life? No, I can't say. I'm still finding the answer to that. But how to get rid of the panic of wasting time? Most of it's in your head when it comes to reality.
Saturday, July 28, 2012
Thursday, July 5, 2012
One Year Anniversary... of a rather unfortunate yet fortunate event
One year ago and one day, 4th of July 2011, I was working at a shitty sports bar in Somerville when I got fired. I worked a double that day with no air conditioning because the manager didn't like to close the front windows, and had a strange feeling that some of the girls I worked with had been sniggering behind my back, with the exception of one who seemed sad whenever she looked at me. When I asked her what was wrong she only smiled and said nothing while shaking her head. I later found out that the other girls didn't like me for various reasons, and our manager thought it was easier to get rid of me without giving a reason, than to solve the issue of cattiness. When it happened I felt betrayed, tricked, and gunned down. I immediately went down the the Charles River to see a friend, buy a 6 dollar ice cream cone and drown my sorrows on the riverbank underneath the fireworks.
What I didn't realize until this year, is that being fired from that restaurant was probably the best thing that has ever happened to me after graduating from college.
If I had stayed at the restaurant, I would hardly have had any weeknights free, and I would not have gotten the nannying job I obtained about a month later. Having a day job was a new thing to me, and because of that schedule I was able to turn my whole schedule around in order to fit the night life of Boston comedy and theater.
The following list of events occurred because I got fired from a job last year:
1. I started going to open mics between 1 and 3 nights per week, thereby putting in the time and making friends that I am still friends with some girls who make me laugh and always have my back
2. My job allowed for me to take off if I needed to go to an audition at Boston Casting, leading to my very first role in an Indie film
3. I met Will, which I guess could have happened if I had kept doing comedy but our schedules do mesh well together considering that I work days and we both like to do the same things at night
4. I took an acting class at Company One on Tuesdays because I always had evenings free
5. To go along with that, I started auditioning between 1 and 4 nights per week, and on nights I wasn't auditioning, I was doing comedy
6. Every part I got this year can only be attributed to the free evenings and work flexibility Tania granted me, and the experience I got from doing comedy so much elevated my auditioning skills
7. That leads into how I got my job at the museum
8. I got the part on the murder mystery dinner cruise because of someone I work with at the museum
9. I met more friends at my newest job that I feel will make up for every shitty friend I had in the past
10. My life is ultimately working out in a course of events that I'm sure will only lead to even better opportunities, and I am the happiest I have ever been because of where I am right now.
So as of this 4th of July, I think that my patriotism is not only motivated by my working at a historical museum, but because it is the anniversary of a day where I truly gained Independence and somehow got to where I am at today. God Bless America, eh?
What I didn't realize until this year, is that being fired from that restaurant was probably the best thing that has ever happened to me after graduating from college.
If I had stayed at the restaurant, I would hardly have had any weeknights free, and I would not have gotten the nannying job I obtained about a month later. Having a day job was a new thing to me, and because of that schedule I was able to turn my whole schedule around in order to fit the night life of Boston comedy and theater.
The following list of events occurred because I got fired from a job last year:
1. I started going to open mics between 1 and 3 nights per week, thereby putting in the time and making friends that I am still friends with some girls who make me laugh and always have my back
2. My job allowed for me to take off if I needed to go to an audition at Boston Casting, leading to my very first role in an Indie film
3. I met Will, which I guess could have happened if I had kept doing comedy but our schedules do mesh well together considering that I work days and we both like to do the same things at night
4. I took an acting class at Company One on Tuesdays because I always had evenings free
5. To go along with that, I started auditioning between 1 and 4 nights per week, and on nights I wasn't auditioning, I was doing comedy
6. Every part I got this year can only be attributed to the free evenings and work flexibility Tania granted me, and the experience I got from doing comedy so much elevated my auditioning skills
7. That leads into how I got my job at the museum
8. I got the part on the murder mystery dinner cruise because of someone I work with at the museum
9. I met more friends at my newest job that I feel will make up for every shitty friend I had in the past
10. My life is ultimately working out in a course of events that I'm sure will only lead to even better opportunities, and I am the happiest I have ever been because of where I am right now.
So as of this 4th of July, I think that my patriotism is not only motivated by my working at a historical museum, but because it is the anniversary of a day where I truly gained Independence and somehow got to where I am at today. God Bless America, eh?
Saturday, June 2, 2012
find someone who makes it worth the fight
Last year while living in a 4-bedroom home in Belchertown during my last semester at UMass, I remember speaking with my roommate Ryan about his girlfriend. He said, "We've been having a few fights lately, but it's getting to that point in the relationship where it's worth the fight." And I remember thinking, God I don't think I have ever felt that way.
Too many times I have been in a relationship where a fight made me want to give up on the person. I thought that it couldn't possibly be worth it if everything wasn't going perfect. Lately, I have learned from experience that I fully understand that statement.
The past few weeks have been tough on my stress level, because my job is revolving around building a show from the ground up. My family is going through some personal things, I've gotten into silly tiffs with friends, my roommate's cat continues to sneeze on me while I'm writing blog posts and crawl on my back and annoy the crud outta me (despite his ridiculous cute factor) and I've been going going going trying to babysit and audition for other shows and rehearse for music gigs and do my best to keep working even outside of work.
Then of course my boyfriend, (who probably knows my moods better than I do somehow) has noticed that I have been extra grumpy lately. Apparently I have been snapping, tired, and on edge for about two weeks now. I literally had no idea that this was noticeable to anyone aside from myself, as I haven't been sleeping very well at all. I stay up nights trying to rehearse lines with myself and I dream about work friends or have nightmares about my costume ripping or getting ruined, or losing lines in front of tourists. This can't be good for my moods with coworkers, and it can't be good for my jaw that takes all the stress of my nightly teeth grinding routines.
So my wonderful boyfriend decided that this week he was going to surprise me with a fancy dinner at a fancy restaurant in a fancy hotel. No, we didn't stay the night at the hotel, but we certainly had what I would consider to be the nicest dinner anyone's ever taken me out to. I shit you not, the Omni Parker House made the best baked schrod I will probably have in my lifetime. It tasted like it was dipped in butter churned by the virgin Mary herself, and baked in an oven by Jesus Christ. It was that good.
And what did we do after this wonderful dinner? Well, we took a romantic walk in the Public Gardens of Boston, that's what. And we kissed next to a fountain. And a statue. And a Hundred Acre Wood Tree. Basically it was a perfect evening. An evening that I will never forget. So what did we do after that wonderful walk together?
We fought. We had a ridiculous, bickering, nothing fight. Something completely out of character for us! And I was so upset by the fact that I thought I had ruined our evening, that I cried. Because I am an absolute stressball, and anything at all could have set me off.
And what did my wonderful boyfriend do to make it up to me that we had fought over absolutely nothing? Well, he happened to stumble upon some Red Sox tickets and asked me to go to that the very next day. Again, did I mention that he's the most wonderful man that a Boston Irish girl could ever hope to date?!?!
(Did he buy me a hot dog at the ballpark? ... DUH.)
And today, after a wonderful couple of days with my wonderful boyfriend, we had yet another nothing fight.
But no worries my lovely readers, because for those of you who are unawares, we are truly a good couple and we are very much in love, and I have discovered something about relationships with every fight/bicker/back-and-forth that we have. I have been told by many people in relationships that every couple fights, and I have been told by those people that you get through it, but I still remember what my old friend told me that really stuck with me about him and his girlfriend (they are still together) that when you two are really in love, it is worth the fight.
Here's how you know it's worth it: when I have fought with past boyfriends, I could feel the tension that would never break. I knew that if I made my feelings too well known or couldn't keep my mouth shut when they weren't treating me well, it would end us, and that either one or neither of us truly thought that fighting would help us understand each other better. We didn't have the real love or connection between us that would build a relationship up after an argument, but our differences would only separate and crumble us.
However when I am having any sort of tiff with my boyfriend, whether it be that I was too curt with him in the morning because my mind is elsewhere, or a full blown argument, I think we are fully aware the entire time, that no matter how right we both think that we are, neither one of us want to be fighting. Not to say that other relationships have included people that always want to fight, but what I mean by that is, we are doing everything in our power during the talk, to get our points across, get past the anger, and continue forward together.
Never before in a relationship have I been in the middle of an argument with someone and thought to myself, they love me and I love them and we're just gonna say our piece and be better off at the end of this. Granted, it's never fun or a great experience to have it out with the person you love. But I will say that I do find a sense of knowing how much you love someone when you make it through to the other side and realize you're still just as secure in your relationship as you were before you started. It's that discovery of knowing you're both on the same page with how committed you are to one another even through disagreements, that builds up your relationship. The commitment to hearing and understanding your significant other can only help you both in the end and keep up a healthy relationship, even if you're both hating the fact that there is a raised voice or a heated temper.
I'm aware that this is a very long explanation, and I know there are books on this topic and I'm silly for trying to explain what I mean in a very long blog post but very short explanation on an extensive topic. But I guess I'm saying that even though fighting sucks, right now I think I've got someone who's worth it. And that's saying something right there. I'm pretty lucky to know what that means.
Too many times I have been in a relationship where a fight made me want to give up on the person. I thought that it couldn't possibly be worth it if everything wasn't going perfect. Lately, I have learned from experience that I fully understand that statement.
The past few weeks have been tough on my stress level, because my job is revolving around building a show from the ground up. My family is going through some personal things, I've gotten into silly tiffs with friends, my roommate's cat continues to sneeze on me while I'm writing blog posts and crawl on my back and annoy the crud outta me (despite his ridiculous cute factor) and I've been going going going trying to babysit and audition for other shows and rehearse for music gigs and do my best to keep working even outside of work.
Then of course my boyfriend, (who probably knows my moods better than I do somehow) has noticed that I have been extra grumpy lately. Apparently I have been snapping, tired, and on edge for about two weeks now. I literally had no idea that this was noticeable to anyone aside from myself, as I haven't been sleeping very well at all. I stay up nights trying to rehearse lines with myself and I dream about work friends or have nightmares about my costume ripping or getting ruined, or losing lines in front of tourists. This can't be good for my moods with coworkers, and it can't be good for my jaw that takes all the stress of my nightly teeth grinding routines.
So my wonderful boyfriend decided that this week he was going to surprise me with a fancy dinner at a fancy restaurant in a fancy hotel. No, we didn't stay the night at the hotel, but we certainly had what I would consider to be the nicest dinner anyone's ever taken me out to. I shit you not, the Omni Parker House made the best baked schrod I will probably have in my lifetime. It tasted like it was dipped in butter churned by the virgin Mary herself, and baked in an oven by Jesus Christ. It was that good.
And what did we do after this wonderful dinner? Well, we took a romantic walk in the Public Gardens of Boston, that's what. And we kissed next to a fountain. And a statue. And a Hundred Acre Wood Tree. Basically it was a perfect evening. An evening that I will never forget. So what did we do after that wonderful walk together?
We fought. We had a ridiculous, bickering, nothing fight. Something completely out of character for us! And I was so upset by the fact that I thought I had ruined our evening, that I cried. Because I am an absolute stressball, and anything at all could have set me off.
And what did my wonderful boyfriend do to make it up to me that we had fought over absolutely nothing? Well, he happened to stumble upon some Red Sox tickets and asked me to go to that the very next day. Again, did I mention that he's the most wonderful man that a Boston Irish girl could ever hope to date?!?!
(Did he buy me a hot dog at the ballpark? ... DUH.)
And today, after a wonderful couple of days with my wonderful boyfriend, we had yet another nothing fight.
But no worries my lovely readers, because for those of you who are unawares, we are truly a good couple and we are very much in love, and I have discovered something about relationships with every fight/bicker/back-and-forth that we have. I have been told by many people in relationships that every couple fights, and I have been told by those people that you get through it, but I still remember what my old friend told me that really stuck with me about him and his girlfriend (they are still together) that when you two are really in love, it is worth the fight.
Here's how you know it's worth it: when I have fought with past boyfriends, I could feel the tension that would never break. I knew that if I made my feelings too well known or couldn't keep my mouth shut when they weren't treating me well, it would end us, and that either one or neither of us truly thought that fighting would help us understand each other better. We didn't have the real love or connection between us that would build a relationship up after an argument, but our differences would only separate and crumble us.
However when I am having any sort of tiff with my boyfriend, whether it be that I was too curt with him in the morning because my mind is elsewhere, or a full blown argument, I think we are fully aware the entire time, that no matter how right we both think that we are, neither one of us want to be fighting. Not to say that other relationships have included people that always want to fight, but what I mean by that is, we are doing everything in our power during the talk, to get our points across, get past the anger, and continue forward together.
Never before in a relationship have I been in the middle of an argument with someone and thought to myself, they love me and I love them and we're just gonna say our piece and be better off at the end of this. Granted, it's never fun or a great experience to have it out with the person you love. But I will say that I do find a sense of knowing how much you love someone when you make it through to the other side and realize you're still just as secure in your relationship as you were before you started. It's that discovery of knowing you're both on the same page with how committed you are to one another even through disagreements, that builds up your relationship. The commitment to hearing and understanding your significant other can only help you both in the end and keep up a healthy relationship, even if you're both hating the fact that there is a raised voice or a heated temper.
I'm aware that this is a very long explanation, and I know there are books on this topic and I'm silly for trying to explain what I mean in a very long blog post but very short explanation on an extensive topic. But I guess I'm saying that even though fighting sucks, right now I think I've got someone who's worth it. And that's saying something right there. I'm pretty lucky to know what that means.
Monday, May 14, 2012
you can lead a horse to water but you have to make sure they're not going to drown themselves
I have this friend. Well, actually I have many friends. One of the reasons I have many friends could be due to my big smile, my sparkling and cheery demeanor, and my knack for always saying things like, "You go, girl!" Ok none of what I just said is how I describe myself, or why i think I might have more friends than my boyfriend or family members who by default, have to be my friends.
The real reason why I feel as though I have a variety of friends is because I like to listen to people. I'm a problem solver, maybe a bit of a control freak, and somehow I can conjure up some bit of advice for pretty much anything. I'm mostly an expert at telling people the blatant and not always gentle truth if they have a complaint about their dating life. A conversation could go on for hours about whether this girl's ex-boyfriend was really a douchebag, or maybe she really did nag him too much. Sometimes people mention they have bigger problems, such as money troubles or their car has been acting up. Even if I don't have experience to provide "good" advice I usually chime in with at least a, "maybe get a better mechanic?" so I can contribute. Could be conceived as annoying, now that I'm writing it down to explain myself, but usually I find that my input is appreciated, even if it's not useful.
I find that the concern for others and the willingness to listen is what gets me on someone's good side. (Let's just clear it up here, folks. I'm not trying to toot my own horn, there is a whiny and not-so-self-promoting side to this blog post).
There are acquaintances I have from comedy or acting that I have never hung out with outside of that setting, but I probably know more about their personal issues or family troubles than a far more average acquaintance. I attribute this to my openness and how much I (sometimes annoyingly) dish out to people about how my life is going. When someone asks me, "How are you?" it's very hard to me to simply say, "good, you?" and leave it at that. So when I provide an anecdote, so do they, and a small bond forms between us.
One more lead-up to where this is going before I explain my personal dilemma of the week; I have had times where I'm on a bus, or a subway car, or in line at a taco stand and somehow a stranger starts telling me about their life problems. No idea what it is about me, maybe it's just that my face looks non-judgmental, maybe I'm too nice and too good of a listener, maybe God is telling them that I can listen to their problems without running away screaming, but I've had more women tell me about their drug-addict ex husbands abuse or their alcoholic family members' financial troubles than a family counselor at a rehab institute... and I can't really figure out why except that I always finish the conversation with, "I'm sorry, I'll pray for you" and they really seem to love me for that in some way.
ANYWAY this week seems to be troubling for me because I'm at a loss. Two instances where I'm at a personal loss for how to react to a friend and what my role is in their life when they come to me with an unsolvable-by-me issue.
So I have this friend, and her family member is very sick. I don't know how to comfort her, and I'm not sure what to say except that I'm sorry for her being worried. Maybe we all go through that one, where a friend is suffering through a family dilemma and we're just supposed to pat them on the back and have a drink with them while they get through it. See, I'm not that kind of person!
I feel like if nothing I can do or say will make them feel better, then I'm simply useless and I should just cut out my tongue and sacrifice it to the wellness gods and maybe THAT will somehow make everything better in the balance of sickness versus health in my friend's life... how do other people simply "be there" for their friends? Really, I feel like an awkward useless dumby, like there was a part of the friendship handbook that I missed when I played hookie to sleep in one day.
So then I have this other friend that has been going through a rough patch... well maybe they've always been in a rough patch, but they have had their ups and downs and right now they are most certainly down. I have offered so much advice, so many phone calls, so many nights agonizing over what could possibly be the root of the problems, what causes their anxiety, whether it's job related or body related or just plain life related, and now I'm at a loss.
I can tell a starving person sixteen different ways to eat their dinner and pick up a knife and fork and put it in their hands, but they're going to stay starving if they don't put a fork with food on it, into their mouth, chew, then swallow. I could write them a book, "How to Eat" and make them read it, but if they don't apply anything I'm giving them to their problem, then it won't be solved. So now I feel even more frustrated because half of what I'm giving them seems like it's going in one ear and out the other! They throw their hands up and say they're giving up on "eating", they may as well "starve". How many times can you repeat yourself before you're just as ready to give up?
Of course, that part is somewhat made up and problems are never that simple. But the point is, there is a certain point where as a friend you just can't do anything anymore because you talked until you were blue in the face, gave all the solutions you could think of, but whoever needs help can really only help themselves or seek out the help for themselves.
Maybe I'm throwing my hands up? I get frustrated when I feel like I'm not being listened to, like maybe I couldn't get through to the person and I start being mean to them instead of just letting them run their course. Then comes the mother/controlling part of me where I picture myself actually letting them run the course they're on, and I am terrified they're going to crash into a wall. Should I just let them crash?
At what point, are friends supposed to stop the hand holding and advice giving? Where are the lines between bad friend and letting them run free, or great friend and being a control freak? I guess I need some advice on that one.
The real reason why I feel as though I have a variety of friends is because I like to listen to people. I'm a problem solver, maybe a bit of a control freak, and somehow I can conjure up some bit of advice for pretty much anything. I'm mostly an expert at telling people the blatant and not always gentle truth if they have a complaint about their dating life. A conversation could go on for hours about whether this girl's ex-boyfriend was really a douchebag, or maybe she really did nag him too much. Sometimes people mention they have bigger problems, such as money troubles or their car has been acting up. Even if I don't have experience to provide "good" advice I usually chime in with at least a, "maybe get a better mechanic?" so I can contribute. Could be conceived as annoying, now that I'm writing it down to explain myself, but usually I find that my input is appreciated, even if it's not useful.
I find that the concern for others and the willingness to listen is what gets me on someone's good side. (Let's just clear it up here, folks. I'm not trying to toot my own horn, there is a whiny and not-so-self-promoting side to this blog post).
There are acquaintances I have from comedy or acting that I have never hung out with outside of that setting, but I probably know more about their personal issues or family troubles than a far more average acquaintance. I attribute this to my openness and how much I (sometimes annoyingly) dish out to people about how my life is going. When someone asks me, "How are you?" it's very hard to me to simply say, "good, you?" and leave it at that. So when I provide an anecdote, so do they, and a small bond forms between us.
One more lead-up to where this is going before I explain my personal dilemma of the week; I have had times where I'm on a bus, or a subway car, or in line at a taco stand and somehow a stranger starts telling me about their life problems. No idea what it is about me, maybe it's just that my face looks non-judgmental, maybe I'm too nice and too good of a listener, maybe God is telling them that I can listen to their problems without running away screaming, but I've had more women tell me about their drug-addict ex husbands abuse or their alcoholic family members' financial troubles than a family counselor at a rehab institute... and I can't really figure out why except that I always finish the conversation with, "I'm sorry, I'll pray for you" and they really seem to love me for that in some way.
ANYWAY this week seems to be troubling for me because I'm at a loss. Two instances where I'm at a personal loss for how to react to a friend and what my role is in their life when they come to me with an unsolvable-by-me issue.
So I have this friend, and her family member is very sick. I don't know how to comfort her, and I'm not sure what to say except that I'm sorry for her being worried. Maybe we all go through that one, where a friend is suffering through a family dilemma and we're just supposed to pat them on the back and have a drink with them while they get through it. See, I'm not that kind of person!
I feel like if nothing I can do or say will make them feel better, then I'm simply useless and I should just cut out my tongue and sacrifice it to the wellness gods and maybe THAT will somehow make everything better in the balance of sickness versus health in my friend's life... how do other people simply "be there" for their friends? Really, I feel like an awkward useless dumby, like there was a part of the friendship handbook that I missed when I played hookie to sleep in one day.
So then I have this other friend that has been going through a rough patch... well maybe they've always been in a rough patch, but they have had their ups and downs and right now they are most certainly down. I have offered so much advice, so many phone calls, so many nights agonizing over what could possibly be the root of the problems, what causes their anxiety, whether it's job related or body related or just plain life related, and now I'm at a loss.
I can tell a starving person sixteen different ways to eat their dinner and pick up a knife and fork and put it in their hands, but they're going to stay starving if they don't put a fork with food on it, into their mouth, chew, then swallow. I could write them a book, "How to Eat" and make them read it, but if they don't apply anything I'm giving them to their problem, then it won't be solved. So now I feel even more frustrated because half of what I'm giving them seems like it's going in one ear and out the other! They throw their hands up and say they're giving up on "eating", they may as well "starve". How many times can you repeat yourself before you're just as ready to give up?
Of course, that part is somewhat made up and problems are never that simple. But the point is, there is a certain point where as a friend you just can't do anything anymore because you talked until you were blue in the face, gave all the solutions you could think of, but whoever needs help can really only help themselves or seek out the help for themselves.
Maybe I'm throwing my hands up? I get frustrated when I feel like I'm not being listened to, like maybe I couldn't get through to the person and I start being mean to them instead of just letting them run their course. Then comes the mother/controlling part of me where I picture myself actually letting them run the course they're on, and I am terrified they're going to crash into a wall. Should I just let them crash?
At what point, are friends supposed to stop the hand holding and advice giving? Where are the lines between bad friend and letting them run free, or great friend and being a control freak? I guess I need some advice on that one.
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
the old man is most certainly snoring
Going on week two of rain. Yes it's finally Spring, but wasn't this supposed to be April weather? I'm confused! Why isn't May a little bit sunnier and nicer??
I'm an avid believer in climate change, but it saddens me to see things happening to quickly. A lot of people are incredibly uneducated on how this whole thing works, and I only say that due to the fact that last year when we had twelve foot Nor'Easters (only somewhat exaggerating) everyone had things on facebook that read:- Yeah right "global warming"
- Come on Al Gore, I thought you had something there!
- More like "global cooling"
and so on, and so forth. What people fail to realize it that climate change to any capacity, that which we have been so forewarned means just that: climate change. It means that seasons that we knew as kids were a little different than those our parents knew, and the ones our kids will understand are probably going to be even more drastically different.
This year we didn't get a lot of snow in Massachusetts, or most of New England for that matter. Last year there was so much snow that people in Brooklyn and Queens died in their apartment buildings when ambulances couldn't reach them for emergencies. I was sad about the non-snow in our area, but grateful we weren't drowning in it I suppose. There is a downfall about the early Spring we had though, and I'll tell you why that's especially dangerous for the environment.
The warm weather we had in March made the trees bloom much earlier than they should have. Might not seem like a big deal, but then we had a frost or two. Ok, so the trees can bounce back, right? Well that could be the case, but then we have to consider that it was so warm that bugs were already out. I saw mosquitoes in March!! Which also means that there must have been worms. Worms and other bugs that birds usually eat. When those insects are in their prime on a regular ideal sort of Spring, the baby birds are also supposed to be hatching. When bugs come out too early, there's not enough of them to go around for the birds. Therefore, the bird population suffers that year and the bug population is well, simply put, gross.
(Not to mention, this year they're projecting HUGE BUGS in the New England area because not enough of them died over the winter when it didn't get quite cold enough to kill some of the population off.)
Notice how it's only in places like Vermont, Michigan, and other states that are known for crazy amounts of snow that seemed to get any this winter? But while ski season usually extends to almost April in Stowe, VT I ended up wearing shorts in the middle of March the entire time I vacationed with Will. We were hiking through melting snow and sweating. Nothing up there had proper time to slowly thaw out so we were going through waterfalls on the rock stairways and slush on the side trails. Not to say that it wasn't a very beautiful experience, but certainly something I didn't expect or plan for ahead of time.
Now they're telling us that within the next 30 years some of the T lines could be underwater. Lots of downtown Boston and lower Manhattan will be underwater if the glaciers keep melting at the rate that they have been. We can't really do much to save the polar bears if they simply don't have a place to live. Or penguins, or seals, or other ice-cap-dwelling creatures for that matter. It's pretty sad to think about. Sometimes I think about how evolution gave us all of these amazing animals, and then they will never get the chance to evolve into something else because we killed them all off. Imagine what sort of animals would develop in the next thousand years if animals had the time to adjust to weather changes? I mean let's be honest, we might not even be able to adjust in time, let alone them.
I can't really conclude this post, because there is no conclusion. We are all told in too many ways about how we shouldn't produce so much waste, and pollution is bad, the environment suffers every time we drive a car or throw out a candy wrapper. The fact of the matter is, most people just don't care. Or they're duped into thinking they're doing something better by going to Starbucks instead of Dunkin Donuts when actually, the recycle bin at Starbucks just goes into the trash and they only have those to make us feel better. (nope, not kidding).
Maybe all we can do is care more? Or maybe it's too late. Maybe some of the idiots who didn't think global warming would ever come to fruition will watch their cape house slide into the ocean one day. We have to give the polar bears some sort of vindication, right?
I'm an avid believer in climate change, but it saddens me to see things happening to quickly. A lot of people are incredibly uneducated on how this whole thing works, and I only say that due to the fact that last year when we had twelve foot Nor'Easters (only somewhat exaggerating) everyone had things on facebook that read:- Yeah right "global warming"
- Come on Al Gore, I thought you had something there!
- More like "global cooling"
and so on, and so forth. What people fail to realize it that climate change to any capacity, that which we have been so forewarned means just that: climate change. It means that seasons that we knew as kids were a little different than those our parents knew, and the ones our kids will understand are probably going to be even more drastically different.
This year we didn't get a lot of snow in Massachusetts, or most of New England for that matter. Last year there was so much snow that people in Brooklyn and Queens died in their apartment buildings when ambulances couldn't reach them for emergencies. I was sad about the non-snow in our area, but grateful we weren't drowning in it I suppose. There is a downfall about the early Spring we had though, and I'll tell you why that's especially dangerous for the environment.
The warm weather we had in March made the trees bloom much earlier than they should have. Might not seem like a big deal, but then we had a frost or two. Ok, so the trees can bounce back, right? Well that could be the case, but then we have to consider that it was so warm that bugs were already out. I saw mosquitoes in March!! Which also means that there must have been worms. Worms and other bugs that birds usually eat. When those insects are in their prime on a regular ideal sort of Spring, the baby birds are also supposed to be hatching. When bugs come out too early, there's not enough of them to go around for the birds. Therefore, the bird population suffers that year and the bug population is well, simply put, gross.
(Not to mention, this year they're projecting HUGE BUGS in the New England area because not enough of them died over the winter when it didn't get quite cold enough to kill some of the population off.)
Notice how it's only in places like Vermont, Michigan, and other states that are known for crazy amounts of snow that seemed to get any this winter? But while ski season usually extends to almost April in Stowe, VT I ended up wearing shorts in the middle of March the entire time I vacationed with Will. We were hiking through melting snow and sweating. Nothing up there had proper time to slowly thaw out so we were going through waterfalls on the rock stairways and slush on the side trails. Not to say that it wasn't a very beautiful experience, but certainly something I didn't expect or plan for ahead of time.
Now they're telling us that within the next 30 years some of the T lines could be underwater. Lots of downtown Boston and lower Manhattan will be underwater if the glaciers keep melting at the rate that they have been. We can't really do much to save the polar bears if they simply don't have a place to live. Or penguins, or seals, or other ice-cap-dwelling creatures for that matter. It's pretty sad to think about. Sometimes I think about how evolution gave us all of these amazing animals, and then they will never get the chance to evolve into something else because we killed them all off. Imagine what sort of animals would develop in the next thousand years if animals had the time to adjust to weather changes? I mean let's be honest, we might not even be able to adjust in time, let alone them.
I can't really conclude this post, because there is no conclusion. We are all told in too many ways about how we shouldn't produce so much waste, and pollution is bad, the environment suffers every time we drive a car or throw out a candy wrapper. The fact of the matter is, most people just don't care. Or they're duped into thinking they're doing something better by going to Starbucks instead of Dunkin Donuts when actually, the recycle bin at Starbucks just goes into the trash and they only have those to make us feel better. (nope, not kidding).
Maybe all we can do is care more? Or maybe it's too late. Maybe some of the idiots who didn't think global warming would ever come to fruition will watch their cape house slide into the ocean one day. We have to give the polar bears some sort of vindication, right?
Monday, April 30, 2012
I Geek Boston (among other things)
Can we just talk about how much I love Boston?
I knew that I liked it before, I've always been a baseball fan, thought the T was pretty easy to get around on, and felt like all my visits were a mini-adventure, so moving here for the fun stuff was a plus when I took the career advantages into consideration. Now I was blessed to no longer have to nanny to pay the bills, because I have a job as a full time actor at a museum. I feel like I have some freedom, a dream job with daytime work hours and the rest of the time to do what I want. No cleaning, no waiting tables, no hour + commute... ahhh yes.
But let's just talk about how I have a new found pride in this city, as though Worcester were a faint memory. My new job has taught me so much already in the first week about how amazing our history is, and how much our ancestors got done working as a team for a common goal of independence. I think this year the 4th of July won't just be about the fireworks, but about how happy I am to be a part of the tourist experience and teach people about the rich and exciting history that is Boston, Massachusetts.
(Alright it's a geeky thing to talk about, and YES I am fully aware that I'm not being very specific but I didn't want to dedicate a post to the French and Indian War and how it led to the Intolerable Acts because I didn't take the job to teach high school level history on my blog, I'm just saying it's a lot of fun when your acting job is to portray an important part of local and national history and culture.)
I'm so excited for my second summer living out here, it's unreal. This will be the summer that I'm no longer a newcomer, but an experienced explorer. I won't be completely poor, just making enough to still have a bit of fun once in a while. I will have best friends that love to go on mini-adventures and a loving boyfriend to make it all the more enjoyable. This year is already panning out so well, setting up to have a fantastic summer and no worries are on my mind. Sure I'm very busy the next couple of weeks, but I like to convince myself I can do everything even if something else may suffer in the end, like my sleep.
Sleep is overrated. There's plenty of time to sleep when you're dead. Or on your day off. Either one.
I think I want to focus on the acting job instead of the theater shows for the next couple months, and do more of my music (OUR music since I have a partner). This summer should be light and happy and creative, I want to stay up late writing my stories and spend lazy afternoons and evenings writing songs with my talented readheaded friend. Harvard Square is calling our names to come play guitar and make enough money to get a couple Sam Summers or J.P. Licks scoops after a long day. I wanna pluck some strings at the beach and sneak a hot dog even though I try to be a vegetarian.
I never thought I would get this attached, but it is gaining on my one year anniversary. In the past year I have padded my resume, gotten nice teaser experiences in the business, met some great folks, gotten into a fun social circle, found some awesome new friends, continued to build old friendships, and grew in a wonderful relationship. Oh I love that durty watuh... yep, gotta love being home.
I knew that I liked it before, I've always been a baseball fan, thought the T was pretty easy to get around on, and felt like all my visits were a mini-adventure, so moving here for the fun stuff was a plus when I took the career advantages into consideration. Now I was blessed to no longer have to nanny to pay the bills, because I have a job as a full time actor at a museum. I feel like I have some freedom, a dream job with daytime work hours and the rest of the time to do what I want. No cleaning, no waiting tables, no hour + commute... ahhh yes.
But let's just talk about how I have a new found pride in this city, as though Worcester were a faint memory. My new job has taught me so much already in the first week about how amazing our history is, and how much our ancestors got done working as a team for a common goal of independence. I think this year the 4th of July won't just be about the fireworks, but about how happy I am to be a part of the tourist experience and teach people about the rich and exciting history that is Boston, Massachusetts.
(Alright it's a geeky thing to talk about, and YES I am fully aware that I'm not being very specific but I didn't want to dedicate a post to the French and Indian War and how it led to the Intolerable Acts because I didn't take the job to teach high school level history on my blog, I'm just saying it's a lot of fun when your acting job is to portray an important part of local and national history and culture.)
I'm so excited for my second summer living out here, it's unreal. This will be the summer that I'm no longer a newcomer, but an experienced explorer. I won't be completely poor, just making enough to still have a bit of fun once in a while. I will have best friends that love to go on mini-adventures and a loving boyfriend to make it all the more enjoyable. This year is already panning out so well, setting up to have a fantastic summer and no worries are on my mind. Sure I'm very busy the next couple of weeks, but I like to convince myself I can do everything even if something else may suffer in the end, like my sleep.
Sleep is overrated. There's plenty of time to sleep when you're dead. Or on your day off. Either one.
I think I want to focus on the acting job instead of the theater shows for the next couple months, and do more of my music (OUR music since I have a partner). This summer should be light and happy and creative, I want to stay up late writing my stories and spend lazy afternoons and evenings writing songs with my talented readheaded friend. Harvard Square is calling our names to come play guitar and make enough money to get a couple Sam Summers or J.P. Licks scoops after a long day. I wanna pluck some strings at the beach and sneak a hot dog even though I try to be a vegetarian.
I never thought I would get this attached, but it is gaining on my one year anniversary. In the past year I have padded my resume, gotten nice teaser experiences in the business, met some great folks, gotten into a fun social circle, found some awesome new friends, continued to build old friendships, and grew in a wonderful relationship. Oh I love that durty watuh... yep, gotta love being home.
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Rest in peace... I never really liked that phrase
Mostly because the anagram (is that the right word?) is RIP which just doesn't seem like a sympathetic word in the first place. But also, they're not resting. They're not in their body. Their soul is gone from this world, and has moved on from it. Unless you believe that their energy is haunting a part of our world and can't leave for one reason or another. But I hate going down the road of what people believe, because a lot of the time people don't believe in anything, and that literally breaks my heart. NOT the point of this post, however.
Last week, I got about three phone calls in 30 minutes from high school friends. The first one was telling me that someone we graduated with, had died earlier that day. The name was familiar to me, in fact more familiar than the caller may have known, and at first my thoughts were,
"Someone is playing a prank on facebook, there is no way that this is true. Joe is such a great kid, nothing bad could possibly happen to him. Who thinks this is funny that they can put something online and people think it's true?"
When what really had happened, is an old friend of mine had indeed passed away. It doesn't matter how, because he was still very young and a very good person, and had a lot of friends who will miss him dearly.
The next two phone calls were asking how I was doing and if I had known him well, something about the wake, I honestly can't tell you what was said but I completely appreciated those who had called. One of which we haven't spoken as often as I would like to, and we were extremely close in high school. Seems like a trivial thing to some, but the friends that you have when you're young and becoming who you are, will never ever be forgotten and mean so much.
Some of us, like myself, have a hard time comprehending a situation when it first occurs. When my great grandparents died, I was the only one in the family that could keep it together, because it hadn't hit me yet mostly. I ended up doing both of their eulogies and mourning a few months later when I really understood they were most certainly gone.
My brain couldn't wrap around the fact that Joe's death was a true statement, and maybe chose not to believe it, despite the fact that I later showed up to a campfire where many old faces were drinking and mourning, smoking and crying, but I still wasn't that upset. I was bewildered, mostly. Didn't think it was really happening. Then Sunday morning in church when Pastor Cliff had said, "The funeral looks like it will be Thursday for Joey..." I looked at my friends sitting next to me and at that moment I said,
"Well this just became very real"
and started bawling my eyes out.
Is it selfish of me to be upset? I don't think so. But I tried so hard to hold back my tears almost telling myself they were unjustified. He left behind a sister and a mother, and friends who payed much more attention to him lately than I have, and I had the gall to mourn him, or have it still. But I couldn't hold back, either. I'm avidly praying for him and his family, and for his family to have comfort in this time of distress. I'm even praying for our friends that don't particularly believe in anything, because sometimes they take death the hardest out of anyone, not that it's somehow any less hard to deal with if you do in fact believe in the afterlife.
When I was 13, almost ten years ago, I met Joe Vangos at church. We were both young, making friends, and attended youth group together (though I think his sister was a more avid attendee, and I was always a bit closer with her). I remember Joey and I laughing together, sharing stories, sharing thoughts we both had on prayer and God in our very young minds, and just how much of a happy kid he was. I don't think I ever saw him without a smile on his face. We learned how to hang sheetrock together, played instruments (badly) together, and as we grew older and I moved away to college and other places, I came home to see friends and he was there. I would see him at Christmas service or at the Hotel Vernon, and as we'd catch up again there was that smile. Never a disappointment and he was glad to see you and ask how your life was going.
So when it finally set in my brain that this person was gone, even today almost a week later, I don't really want to believe it. There are other friends and family members who are closer to him now/lately than I have been, but at one time we were just a couple of kids together, trying to figure ourselves out. But it's real. I heard from a few people in the past,
That's how you know you're an adult, is when your friends all start getting married, and then one by one they all start dying. I go to to a funeral every couple of years.
So maybe this is a part of life that I haven't been prepared to deal with. But can any of us truly prepare to deal with it? Any of us could go tomorrow, right? A car wreck, sickness, freak brain embolism, getting lost in the woods, choking on your morning breakfast... not to say we should all live in fear, but I suppose the only solution for yourself would be to (quoting a country song) live like you were dying.
I hope that's not a cheesy philosophy. But maybe Joe would've wanted that. His relentlessly smiling demeanor would have wanted that. We could all use a hug right now....
... and Joey gave the best hugs.
I don't typically get many comments on here, but comment if you have a nice memory of our friend.
Last week, I got about three phone calls in 30 minutes from high school friends. The first one was telling me that someone we graduated with, had died earlier that day. The name was familiar to me, in fact more familiar than the caller may have known, and at first my thoughts were,
"Someone is playing a prank on facebook, there is no way that this is true. Joe is such a great kid, nothing bad could possibly happen to him. Who thinks this is funny that they can put something online and people think it's true?"
When what really had happened, is an old friend of mine had indeed passed away. It doesn't matter how, because he was still very young and a very good person, and had a lot of friends who will miss him dearly.
The next two phone calls were asking how I was doing and if I had known him well, something about the wake, I honestly can't tell you what was said but I completely appreciated those who had called. One of which we haven't spoken as often as I would like to, and we were extremely close in high school. Seems like a trivial thing to some, but the friends that you have when you're young and becoming who you are, will never ever be forgotten and mean so much.
Some of us, like myself, have a hard time comprehending a situation when it first occurs. When my great grandparents died, I was the only one in the family that could keep it together, because it hadn't hit me yet mostly. I ended up doing both of their eulogies and mourning a few months later when I really understood they were most certainly gone.
My brain couldn't wrap around the fact that Joe's death was a true statement, and maybe chose not to believe it, despite the fact that I later showed up to a campfire where many old faces were drinking and mourning, smoking and crying, but I still wasn't that upset. I was bewildered, mostly. Didn't think it was really happening. Then Sunday morning in church when Pastor Cliff had said, "The funeral looks like it will be Thursday for Joey..." I looked at my friends sitting next to me and at that moment I said,
"Well this just became very real"
and started bawling my eyes out.
Is it selfish of me to be upset? I don't think so. But I tried so hard to hold back my tears almost telling myself they were unjustified. He left behind a sister and a mother, and friends who payed much more attention to him lately than I have, and I had the gall to mourn him, or have it still. But I couldn't hold back, either. I'm avidly praying for him and his family, and for his family to have comfort in this time of distress. I'm even praying for our friends that don't particularly believe in anything, because sometimes they take death the hardest out of anyone, not that it's somehow any less hard to deal with if you do in fact believe in the afterlife.
When I was 13, almost ten years ago, I met Joe Vangos at church. We were both young, making friends, and attended youth group together (though I think his sister was a more avid attendee, and I was always a bit closer with her). I remember Joey and I laughing together, sharing stories, sharing thoughts we both had on prayer and God in our very young minds, and just how much of a happy kid he was. I don't think I ever saw him without a smile on his face. We learned how to hang sheetrock together, played instruments (badly) together, and as we grew older and I moved away to college and other places, I came home to see friends and he was there. I would see him at Christmas service or at the Hotel Vernon, and as we'd catch up again there was that smile. Never a disappointment and he was glad to see you and ask how your life was going.
So when it finally set in my brain that this person was gone, even today almost a week later, I don't really want to believe it. There are other friends and family members who are closer to him now/lately than I have been, but at one time we were just a couple of kids together, trying to figure ourselves out. But it's real. I heard from a few people in the past,
That's how you know you're an adult, is when your friends all start getting married, and then one by one they all start dying. I go to to a funeral every couple of years.
So maybe this is a part of life that I haven't been prepared to deal with. But can any of us truly prepare to deal with it? Any of us could go tomorrow, right? A car wreck, sickness, freak brain embolism, getting lost in the woods, choking on your morning breakfast... not to say we should all live in fear, but I suppose the only solution for yourself would be to (quoting a country song) live like you were dying.
I hope that's not a cheesy philosophy. But maybe Joe would've wanted that. His relentlessly smiling demeanor would have wanted that. We could all use a hug right now....
... and Joey gave the best hugs.
I don't typically get many comments on here, but comment if you have a nice memory of our friend.
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