Till I Hear You Sing

I've been in a real state this week, and I'm not sure why. Just blah.

When I get in one of my moods, I tend to find something and latch onto it as a coping mechanism.

Currently, it's the Love Never Dies soundtrack (of this I blame my sister) (also, whatevs about the plot, the soundtrack is friggin awesome). Specifically, "Till I Hear You Sing".

I'm telling you, it's the anthem to my damn unborn child (which, let's be honest, is probably the real reason I'm seventeen different kinds of pissy).

Oh hi hot singer man!


It's sung by Ramin Karimloo, who is one of the newest additions to The Five ("but it's laminated!"). (you know I have a thing for a man who can sing. See also: Patrick Wilson and duh, HUGH JACKMAN)


(video from here) (swoonworthy Ramin photo from here)

The day starts, the day ends
Time crawls by
Night steals in, pacing the floor
The moments creep,
Yet I can’t bear to sleep
Till I hear you sing

And weeks pass, and months pass
Seasons fly
Still you don’t walk through the door
And in a haze
I count the silent days
Till I hear you sing once more.

And sometimes at night time
I dream that you are there
But wake holding nothing but the empty air

And years come, and years go
Time runs dry
Still I ache down to the core
My broken soul
Can’t be alive and whole
Till I hear you sing once more

And music, your music
It teases at my ear
I turn and it fades away and you’re not here

Let hopes pass, let dreams pass
Let them die
Without you, what are they for?
I’ll always feel
No more than halfway real
Till I hear you sing once more

I'll be ok.

The husband is going camping tonight, so, I have an evening of Hugh Jackman, et al planned.

It will probably also include veggie pizza and ice cream. I know, I live on the wild side.

Sorry to be a debbie downer today.

I promise, next week, we will be back to yapping about London, and more specifically, THE DRESS. I'm kinda hyperventilating just remembering it! Squee!

Day to Day

Today we shall stray from our constant dribble of London nonsense and get serious. Or, as serious as this girl can get.

As some of you may know, I recently quit my job. Mostly because I was waiting on Princess Kate to call me back and I obviously needed to be free if she called, but, also because my job was a major stress in my life and I was constantly out of town, sick, exhausted and bitchy--I wasn't happy and to be honest, I wasn't doing my best work. Super fun.

There was another reason I quit--my doctor didn't think I could get pregnant under the particular conditions of my job (of which I will not bore you) and I knew I couldn't do my job if I was pregnant. Which, of course, I'm not. Just like I wasn't three years ago when my husband was in his final semester of school, or last year when I finally re did the guest bedroom/"someday" room, or the numerous times I've waited to see two pink lines.

And, it's hard. It's hard wanting something so badly and trying your best to do everything right. From medication to supplements, getting poked with needles, revamping my diet, yoga, meditation, prayer. Been there, done that. It breaks my heart. I get jealous. I get mean. I get teary.

This month has been particularly hard for some reason, and that's probably why I've relied to heavily on Mr. Jackman and London. The day to day is hard (unemployed and un knocked up), so, I focus on the bigger picture: London with my dad, Maine with my best friends, DC with my in laws, Disney/Colorado/beach with my bestie, Vegas with the bff and our favorite candle thief--the other things of which I look forward to.

I don't mean to cram that down y'alls throats, but, it's what I have to do otherwise the pain will consume me, and I don't want that. I want to be fun, silly, happy, clumsy SP like always. Not bitter and bitchy.

I think part of the reason this hurts me so is because of my mom.
I had a wonderful relationship with her and that part of my life is gone. Sure, I have my big sister, but, she's a mother herself and has those responsibilities, my mother in law is amazing and I love her to pieces, but, I live half way across the country and I'm not honest to goodness "hers". I want to pass that down to my daughter. Would this be as hard if my mom was alive? Probably not, but, that's not what life handed me. So, I plug on.

I battle the day to day by diving head first into books (currently, The Iliad, a vintage copy of Oedipus from the BFF and of course, Pride and Prejudice), chick flicks (Bridget Jones, Under The Tuscan Sun, 27 Dresses), musicals (Oklahoma, The Sound of Music, South Pacific), and the occasional action movie (The Losers, The A-Tream). And lean on my friends.

Friends who give me bruises the side of Vermont, letigooooo with me and plan Waxine dates. Friends who send me Princess Kate related texts even when they have way too much going on in their own lives. Friends who quote Les Mis with me. Friends who commiserate with me. I'm lucky to have them.

(this has nothing to do with anything other than further proof that my friends rock--new lamp in my living room)

And, I'll get through this. Somehow. Someday. Until then, I try. And by try, I mean succeed.

Hey, I might not be able to get pregnant, but, I can quote every episode of Friends and give you a play by play of Greek mythology, so, there's that.

Thanks for hanging with me today. I promise we'll be back to TV/makeup/shopping/Hugh Jackman right quick.

Ok, ok, fine. Gratuitous Hugh picture.

Source: None via Shabby on Pinterest

You're welcome.

The 26th Year

So, we know that I’ve been all “Lawdy, I’m getting old. Lawdy, I haven’t done anything. Lawdy my life is depressing.” And that? Needs to stop.

I’m not going to sit around like some old lady. I’m going to do something. I’m gonna get something pierced. (if y’all can tell me where that quote came from, I’ll love you forever) Only, I’m not really gonna pierce anything.

Instead, I’m going to kick ass and take names.

I’m going to make a list—and check it twice (sorry y’all, Lite 103.7 has started playing Christmas music and it’s pretty much what I’m listening to 24/7) (unless I'm rocking out to some Dierks Bentley or bluegrass. Since I'm channelling my inner country girl this week).

I’m going to make a list of things that I will do in my 26th year and by golly, I will get them done. None of that “I’m going to paint the bathroom crap”—because honestly, I still haven’t painted it, and, ya know what, I probably never will. That’s not true, I’ll do it 2 days before Rach gets back from Canada and tell her I did it the day she left. Aren’t I an awesome sister?

ANYWAYS.

The list.

It’s like my Birthday Bucket List.

So, here goes:
(in no particular order)

Go on a girls weekend with these two awesome ladies

Go somewhere with my photog bff

Go back to London already

Run a marathon (duh)

Have a spa day

Rock out at a concert

Get my yee-haw on at a rodeo

See my niece graduate high school. And then cry like a baby

Get the perfect haircut

GO TO THE BEACH

Spend an entire day all snuggled up with my pups—and not be sick!

Watch all of North and South

Watch all the Anne of Green Gables series

Re Read Little Women

Host a dinner party

Have a girls brunch

Host a pool party and bbq

Conquer my fear of the bike

Go to a college football game

Plant a rose bush

Spectate BOSTON. AGAIN.

That's all I've come up with so far. What would you add to my Birthday Bucket List?

PS. In case you were wondering, I accept ponies, Burberry, shiny things, Agent Booth and or Jax Teller as birthday gifts. Feel free to send.

The Secret Life of SP

Or, not so secret, as it were. Is? I don't know. I don't have my English major sister here to ask. (She's in Canada. It's cold there. You can send her cards and stuff, I bet she'd appreciate that. I'm serious. Want her address? Just ask.)

Moving on.

So. I think it's fairly clear that I'm from a small town. And that my brother in law is a cowboy. My niece is a rodeo queen (only not really, because an actual "rodeo queen" is basically a beauty queen, and, my niece is more of the she kicks major butt and wins a lot, versus standing around and looking pretty. Which, she is.). My husband grew up on a ranch.

I grew up riding horses, having farm animals (or, notsomuch farm animals as much as "animals that have wool" i.e., sheep and llamas. True story) and living in the sticks. I LOVED it.

So, Friday night, the hubs and I headed out to the Texas Stampede. Which is a weekend of rodeo, music, petting zoos, and country gathering. Or something. Basically, it's awesome.

It's been a long time since I've been to any type of rodeo event--I think the last one was almost three years ago when I watched my niece tear it up at a local rodeo. That's too long!

Y'all? I had a blast. I forgot how much fun all that is. There's just nothin' like watching someone take on a big ol' mean bull and winning (bull riding). And saddle bronc riding--I love me some saddle bronc. And of course, between my husband and my brother in law, they knew like 85.3% of the guys there. One of my in laws neighbors is the world champ saddle bronc rider or something. He wasn't there. Sads.

Anyways. We had so much fun. Cheering on the guys and gals (barrel racing) as they gave it there all. Hollering for the kiddos in muttin bustin'. And laughing at ourselves. And then rocking out to Dierks Bentley until 1am. He does an awesome show, by the way. I was impressed. It also doesn't hurt that he's just darling and I pretty much want to run away with him. Too bad we're both married.

So.much.fun. And y'all? Let me tell you, nothing makes my accent come out like a bunch of cowboys. I don't so much have a southern accent, as I do a country accent. Which is not to be confused with redneck!

So, this is the secret life of yours truly. Corporate girl by day, country girl by night. And I wouldn't change it for anything.
We all know that I want my future kids to play football/cheer, but, if they wanted to do rodeo, I'd be a OK with that. Of course, we'd have to win the lottery first, as that crap is expensive.

(please excuse the horrid photos, they were taken with my cell phone with a crappy camera. I couldn't figure out how to work the husbands supa dupa fancy cell phone camera!)

Deja Voodo

Elephant in the room, elephant in the room, elephant in the room: ALCS CHAMPS TEXAS RANGERS!!

Ah! My little brain can hardly comprehend the awesome that is this situation. Now, I’m not a die hard baseball fan or anything, but, I do like it—I’ve liked the Rangers since I moved here seven years ago.

And now my boys are going to The World Series! Or, should I say, The World Series is coming to my boys! Holy heck. All kinds of awesome. Antlers Up! Go Rangers! (and it doesn’t hurt that Josh Hamilton is just such a cutie pie. Ha!)

Moving on.

Couple of things:

1. My aunt was here this weekend, which meant that I learned a whole heck of a lot about my family. Such as:

a. My dad used to date a woman who was um, shall we say, into not wearing the clothing so much. Yeah. This probably explains why my dad married my super conservative mother and then my even more conservative stepmom.

b. My grandparents had an “open relationship”. As in, my grandma had a boyfriend. FOR SEVERAL YEARS. Of course my grandparents later divorced.

c. My grandpa and his live in girlfriend of 25+ years (after he and my grandma divorced) was his high school sweetheart and the first girl he ever kissed. If that just isn’t the cutest thing ever, I just don’t know what is.

d. My great great grandma had a career path similar to Julia Roberts a la Pretty Woman. In the middle of nowhere, Iowa. I cannot stop laughing about this.

e. Five years after my grandparents divorced, my grandma met her future live in boyfriend of 25+ years at a bar in what is now Skid Row. She was 15 years older than him (I always knew that). Awesome.

f. My grandparents had to hide their marriage, as Iowa school teachers weren't allowed to be married. I guess the move to Southern California really changed my grandparents!

g.How I didn’t end up barefoot and pregnant, married to Larry the Cable Guy at 18, I will never know. Just, judging my family history and all.

(neither of my grandparents ever married their "live in boyfriend/girlfriends", but, they became family to us kids. I adored my "grandma Wilma" and "grandpa Harry" even though they weren't ever married to my grandparents)

2. Whew. I’m exhausted. I don't have the energy to talk about how I got up way too early, ran way too far and totally hurt myself so badly I can barely walk, just like I did last year (hence the title of this post). We can talk about that tomorrow, k? K.

Why couldn’t I be from a line or nobility or something? I mean seriously.

Memory Lane

(also titled "Our Scanner is Currently Working So We Must Strike While the Iron is Hot")

Remember the onesies that I obsess over (here and here)?

Well, I found a picture of them.
So, I guess I was falsifying the story when I called them onesies, because, they clearly aren't. They are little cape sweater things--and the bonnets? Oh the bonnets. My heart aches.

I have no idea which one is my grandma and which one is my great aunt, but, I don't care. I adore this picture.

While we're doing the Memory Lane thing, here are some more pictures for ya.

That's my momma and our dog in our backyard--gosh, probably sometime in the early 80s.

Me and my momma (in my blonde phase) on her wedding day--November 2, 2002. (don't I look exactly like her? I totally lucked out because my sister looks just like our dad. Yay for my mom having the dominant genes!)

My momma and her girls at my High School Graduation. Again--blonde phase and before I discovered a flat iron.

L-R we have Jenny, Malia, momma, me and Aubrey. Jenny spent every Christmas Eve with us for YEARS. Malia's dad basically adopted me and Aubrey's mom and mine were best friends. My mom considered them her girls too. We're family.

My mom had that photo in an 8x10 frame in her living room. She was such a good mom. I sent that photo to all the girls last night.

I've been scanning up a storm since our scanner is currently not on the fritz. Prepare to see much more where this came from!

Isn't modern technology fun?

Please join me on this emotional rollercoaster

(you can bring booze if you want. In fact, it's recommended)
So, here's how yesterday played out:

1. Am having an emotional breakdown because listening to Sublime on the way to work makes me deliriously happy, but, also gives me the sads because it reminds me of high school and my mom and my high school sweetheart and then I remember that hey, guess what, you're NOT 18 anymore, you're NOT skinny anymore, you haven't talked to your high school sweetheart in SIX years, and oh yeah, you're mom has been dead for SEVEN years. So then I cry.

2. And then there was this whole text message exchange that we just don't even need to talk about. Suffice to say that I was teetering on Courtney Love crazy territory, but, kept it fairly Lindsay Lohan. I'm holding back on the C. Love. I suspect that may eventually seep out in the form of verbal/text vomit. Lucky I have my photographer BFF to talk sense into me. Anyways, the text exchange took up most of my energy yesterday and was exhausting. But, a blessing too.

3. I go to Kroger to get a salad for lunch because I really want Taco Bell, but, there isn't one near my office and I figure I'm feeling fat, so, a salad it is. As I'm pulling out of the parking garage (in which I do not get signal) my sissy calls me. This is the last time I will see her number on my called ID for 18 months. Gulp. And we talk and I tell her how proud I am of her and how much I love her and will miss her so much, but, I'm so happy for her. We talk for a few minutes and then I start crying and tell her I have to hang up and she needs to make some more phone calls. And then I cry for an hour because it's actually happening. I won't get to text her about celebrity gossip, talk about Bones with her, go shopping or be judgemental with her for 18 whole months.

--Note--

At this point, it's already been an exhausting day. I'm ready to pull the covers over my head and go to sleep at 3:15. Too bad I get busy at work at my master plan of leaving early has failed and before I know it, it's 4:59 and I'm still knee deep in work.

4. Then, that evening, as we're heading off to youth group and my stomach has finally calmed down (because I decided it would be a good idea to continue the text message exchange while trying to cook dinner. Read: stupid. Also? Leads to almost chopping your finger off) I get a call from my dad (he can be blamed for the text message exchange, but, I'll yell at him about that later. He's already in trouble for missing my mom's birthday last week). I'm not really in the mood to talk to my dad because I'm exhausted, remember? And parents are exhausting in general. But! But! He called to tell me that the California State Supreme Court decided not to hear an appeal, thus upholding an original verdict. You don't really need to know the backstory, suffice to say: my mom died seven years ago, we went to court. We won. It got appealed. And then appealed again. And then again to the State Supreme Court. And we've been on pins and needles about it for months. Until last night. And then I started screaming and crying and I was so happy I just couldn't believe it. And wanted a cookie.

This was at 6:50PM and I had thoroughly used all my energy reserves for the next two days at this point.

Which is why I fell asleep at 8:40 last night. And am still tired.

Whew. Emotional day over at Casa de SP.

How are you doing?

Oh, and because this post needs a picture, here's a cute one of me and my BFF Lara while I was in California in August. I love her times five hundred billion.
(please ignore that I look kind of chubs and am smiling like a chipmunk. This is a recent development and annoying the hell out of me)

9/8/48

Today is my mom's birthday. She would have been 62. But a freakin' awesome 62, let me tell ya.

It's always a hard day for me. I can't believe that seven years ago was the last birthday I celebrated with her. It seems like just yesterday. And it seems like forever. Does that make sense?

I realize that I'm not unique in losing a parent--I mean, that's how it's supposed to work, right? Children outliving their parents is normal and all.

But, losing your mom in an earthquake, three days before Christmas when you're home from college for winter break has gotta mess with you in some way. And, it has. It does. It sucks. Let's just be real. Losing a parent--no matter how--totally sucks booty.

I wonder who she would be now. What kind of grandmother she'd be to my future children (although, I don't really have to wonder: she'd be the best grandma ever). I wonder if she would have made my wedding dress (she was a crazy good seamstress) and if I'd ever figure out how to make her oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. I wonder what she'd think of my husband, and my house. If she and I would have taken my post college trip to Europe and if we'd still vacation in Tortola.

It's hard to believe I've lived almost 7 years without her. It's even harder to believe that I've got the rest of my life ahead of me without her.

She was my best friend. She was the person who loved me most on this earth. She was my mom.

I hope that I can share the experiences she and I had with my future daughter. I hope we'll spend days watching Little Women and making cookies. I hope we'll go to the museums in DC and spend the afternoon eating pizza on the Mall. I hope we'll vacation to the beach and make memories in the islands. I hope I learn how to sew and can hem her jeans. I hope I will be able to make the world's best oatmeal chocolate chip cookies too.

But mostly, I hope I'm the person she wanted me to be.

"Brandy, throw more brandy! Rum. I never mix my pies!"

There are so many things I could ramble about, as always, but, today, I leave you with my favorite scene, from one of my all time favorite movies (actually, this isn't my favorite scene, my favorite is the prince all drunk and talking to his 'Mumzie'--and the reason I called my mom 'Mumzie', but, YouTube didn't have that one)

I miss my mom a lot today (I miss her every single day!), but, am so grateful for the judges that upheld the verdict, thus supporting safety for those living in California. I'm so grateful for our attorneys for standing by us, being our best friends, our favorite people to have take out with, our favorite people to rant with, our lightning rods, our family--and of course, just being geniuses in general. They are the reason I wish I had gone to law school--I want to work for them and do what they do--fight for safety (it's no surprise my husband's dream job is with OSHA--we're all about workplace safety!)

Anyways, enjoy.


PS. I'm in love with the cake he falls into. I always wanted that for a birthday, although I'm sure it's taller than me.

Random stuff (and a rant on Twilight)

I'm totally sucked of creative juices today (and, well, everyday lately, to tell you the truth) so, y'all are just going to get a mish mash of stuff and like it (I might have said that last night while serving dinner. What? Beans, zucchini and tomato sauce doesn't sound appealing? That's all we had. Deal....It actually was quite tasty, thanks to my heavy hand with garlic, pepper and cheese....cheese makes it all better).

1. I have a new obsession with the name Ellie Kate because it would be the perfect name for my future daughter to honor my two grandmothers. Of course, I already know an Ellie Kate, my dog's name is Ella, and my name sounds an awful lot like 'Ellie'. Oh, and, I'm like 50 billion lightyears away from being pregnant. But, whatevs. Is it just a generally female thing to be obsessed with the names of our future offspring?

2. I want to own really fancy pieces of jewelry from David Yurman and such, but then I can't bring myself to spend the money. And then I realize at the end of the day I really like unique and vintage type jewelry. Because at the end of the day, I'm kind of a little hippy.

3. In elementary school, I went to a total hippy school. We couldn't have food with sugar in our packed lunches, no soda (except Hansen's!) and we had our own garden and compost pile. I have vivid memories of not wearing shoes in the spring months and we often swam in a creek during "recess". I am not joking. It was freaking awesome. (you should know that my parents? Not flower children at all. Which is why this is so hilarious) (my dad would smuggle me Red Vines and contraband on occasion. Also? The kids loved when he would drive on field trips. That's right, no school buses either)

4. My grandmother's engagement/wedding ring was a moonstone ring. Because of that, it has become kind of like our family stone (moonstone and larimar. Can you tell we're beach people?). I seriously want a moonstone ring. But, whenever I Google or even look on Etsy for 'moonstone ring' I get 50 million results for "Bella's Moonstone Ring" "Twilight Inspired Jewelry" "Twilight Ring". And then I want to smack some people because I'll look like some teeny bopper TwiHard with my stupid moonstone ring. My grandmother had it first!! I.hate.Twighlight.

5. I bought hot pink nail polish today (since I'm too cheap and lazy to pay for a manicure). I'll be rockin' some summertime hued nails tomorrow. Sweet. (if only I could paint my little toesies!)

6. I spent a good 45 minutes (unsuccessfully) looking for some pictures last night, and as I stomped all over our house, Ella Mae was dutifully following me around. I imagine it was something like this "What is you looking for mom? Iz help you find it. Here. Let me sniff.". She is a hound dog after all. It was the cutest thing. Butch just stared at us angrily. He's a grumpy old man. If my life was The Fox and The Hound, Ella would obviously be Copper and Butch would be Chief.

7. Fully aware that my pets are not actually real human children. Doesn't mean I don't treat them like they are.

8. I'm so freaking excited about my new firepit. I've wanted one since we moved into our house two years ago. We also finally have up some fun twinkle-y lights on our patio. I fully intend to park myself on the patio with a bag of marshmallows this weekend. S'mores! (ha, it's like camping, Jenny!)

9. When I was 18, I was super duper rebellious. Not in the "I stayed out past curfew and got pulled over" type thing. Nope, I was always home when I said I'd be (or over at Cara or Allison's house), always at work or school on time. I was a very well behaved rebel. If that makes sense. To that end, the day I turned 18 I got a tattoo. Because what says 'adult' better than permanent ink? To compound that, 6 months later, I got another (and it's a whole mess bigger than I wanted it to be!). My dad finding out was not fun. Years later, yeah, I have regrets, but I don't want to go through the money or time to have them removed. After all, if two tattoos that are covered 99.9999999999% of the time is the worst I did as a teenager, I'd say it's all OK.

10. I'm totally making pina colada pancakes this weekend. I've made peace with the fact that I will never again be skinny (that's a total lie, I haven't made peace at all. I just really like pina colada pancakes) (am considering burning off all my taste buds so I don't taste anything and thus won't want to eat. Am doing this after the pancakes. Also? I think this would be a genius way to lose weight. Why has no one thought of this? I don't want to eat if I can't taste!).

11. I wish I was a superhero because then I could fly and or telaport. I'd totally teleport to a beach right now. I thought it was Friday. It is not. I am not thrilled.

12. At least Bones, Community and The Office are on tonight. The only way Thursday is liveable. (until June 3rd of course--Burn Notice!!!)

13. I'm so over working. Why I am not a lady of leisure I will never know. I love my job and all (no, really, I do!), but, man, do you realize how clean my house would be if I could at least work from home? I might actually have time for a real manicure! Or a haircut from somewhere other than SuperCuts. Oh the joy.....

14. My soul sister is heading to Lake Tahoe next week for our family's annual trip. I'm not going (I'm also technically not part of their family for real, but, they've accepted me as their own. Which is good. Since Paula Deen hasn't adopted me yet and Meryl Streep isn't returning my calls). I looooove Lake Tahoe. Mainly? I love staying up way too late watching movies with the girls. Although this year I'm pretty sure my nieces would be staying up late with us since they're freaking high schoolers now--and I just can't accept that. (they're 7 and 9. I don't care what they say)

15. I need a tan. I usually get tan by running. Since we're training at night, my 2-3 hours of sun every Saturday is gone. I despise laying out (too hot). I'm slightly bummed about this. I am not bummed about sleeping in on Saturdays. (is it really sleeping in if you don't get to bed until 5AM? Because I see a lot of that in my future).

That's all I've got for today, folks! If you stuck around, you deserve a prize. Sadly, I don't have any. But, this is my sprinkling good juju and fairy sparkles your way ::happy thoughts::

Happy Thursday y'all! Let's make it to the weekend!

Signs of Summer

(besides the freaking heat and humidity that we've been hit with, holy hell. I want to die. Or move to Colorado. Something)

A few weeks ago, my Ella Mae was running around outside past her bedtime and because I am 500 years old and get up at 5AM on Saturday, that little beagle needed to get her booty in the house. Now. I go outside to see what's distracted her, and wouldn't you know it, like any sweet Southern gal, she's out there chasing fireflies! It was the cutest thing. I about died. I let her play for a few more minutes. Because I'm a good puppy mom like that.

And then, just like that, it's summer (I know it's "technically" not, but, I don't care, shut up).

It's summer when the music in my car has switched from my standard repeat of George, Pat and Dwight (judge away, I don't care) to George, Pat, Kenny, Jimmy, Bob and The Eagles (random, right?).

It's summer when I open the sunroof on the drive home.

When I buy a new perfume that reminds me of the islands (Escada Ocean Lounge in case you're wondering).

When my husband requests a coconut cake for his birthday (I knew I married this man for a reason).

When I pull out the old Sugar Mill cookbook and send Rum French Toast recipes to friends.

When I come home and Rach is pink from sitting in the sun all afternoon.

When thoughts of the islands fill my mind every waking second.

When the smell of Coppertone is heaven.

When I remember the days long ago of endless waves on silky white sand and laughing the day away with my mom. When I remember breakfast at Long Bay Beach Club and dinners at Pusser's. When melted ice cream (because the freezer never worked) and grilled pizza (because the power never stayed on) makes me laugh and cry at the same time.

When all I can think about is my mom. And the places we went.

And the places we wanted to go.

When my BFF just returned from another fabulous vacation and I stare at her all starry eyed, knowing 100% that she was put in my path for a reason--and that my mom had a role in it.

When things slow down, the temperature goes up and it's like I'm 17 again.

Like I was back in the Islands. Getting sunburned, heat rash, mosquito bites and all.

Someday. Someday I'll go back.

Until then, I'll rock out to Kenny, I'll make pina colada pancakes (they're better than they sound) and lay by the pool.

After all, isn't that what summer is all about?

To Tell The Truth

Sorry y'all, but this peppy redhead has been missing the pep in her step lately and feels like gettin' it all off her chest might just help. You'll hang with her through this, right? (promise to be back to my ol' dumbass self--soon)

Y'all are my ever trusted and most favorite interweb friends, so, I can be honest with you. Truth be told, I haven't been totally honest. I mean, I have, it's not like I was tellin' lies, but, I'm sure at the same time, I haven't just laid it all out there. So, here goes.

I'm depressed.

Yep. There. I said it.

I've battled depression since I was a teenager. Sadly, this directly coincides with body image issues. Had those since I was a teenager as well. Ironically enough, pre High School, I felt great about myself and was an kick ass gymnast and later won regional championships for vaulting. Oh how I miss horses..... Anyways, I was strong, powerful and could do something very few people could do. After all, can you stand on one leg atop a moving horse? Didn't think so.

Anyways, HS tore me up and then when I got to college, it got worse. I went to one of the most beautiful schools where every single girl (it seemed) was a size 00, tall, blonde and gorgeous. I am 5ft, not a size 00 and not beach blonde. I hated myself.

Sure, I was co-captain of our crew team and we did great (won our first race--whoot!), and could lift weights with the boys (yes, we had our weight workouts with the football players--hilarious memories to this day). But I was miserable. I wasn't your standard waif like coxswain. Nope. I always teetered on the line of "needs to lose weight". That sucked.

My roommates could eat pizza all night and not gain a single ounce. If I looked at a piece of pizza, I'd go up a size.

After my mom died, I went through a very dangerous phase of well, not eating anything. My sister had to be flown out to Texas and force feed me. Literally. I remember being in tears at the mall because she bought me a cookie and I refused to eat it. I had lost 15 pounds in 3 months. I felt fantastic (even if I was so tired I could barely stay awake past 8PM). I was in control. I was a size 00 for the first time since 8th grade. I looked good in a two piece.

I moved home for the summer and kept it up, only gaining about 2-3 pounds back. After all, I worked hard to look like this and I was not going to give it up.

Well, eventually, I gave up and had gained back most of the weight by the time I got married a year later. But, I looked better--I was toned and happy. Happy! I had a blast running around Hawaii in a two piece and sporting short shorts.

Somewhere along the line, I lost that. I don't know why my happiness is tied to the way I look, but, it is.

Last year, I went on Weight Watchers and lost the weight--never getting back to my college days skinny, but, getting to a weight that was normal for my height and build and a weight where surprise, I could eat, but not be unhappy.

Last summer, things were good. I was skinny, I was training for a marathon, my husband was done with school and he was training for a Century Bike Ride. We were endurance athlete all stars.

Then, as the months ticked by, the weight crept up and the depression came back. I got sick. A lot. I was stressed. I was unhappy.

I still am.

My husband still doesn't have a job. He's been out of school for a year. It's been really hard on him. He wants to work. He wants to provide for us (I on the other hand am quite happy to be at home). But, he can't. This has not helped the depression.

Don't get me wrong, I love my job, I'm very fortunate, but, at the end of the day, I don't feel like this is what I'm totally meant to do forever.

So, right now, I'm stuck.

I'm stuck in a land where I'm 20 pounds heavier than I was last year. Stuck in a place where I work so that we can survive. Stuck in a place where I try to be strong for my family because at the end of the day--it's freaking hard to be unemployed. Stuck in a place where I just hold my breath and pray for the best. Pray that tomorrow there will be a job. Pray that tomorrow I can get up and run the weight off. Pray that tomorrow will be better than today.

And then I wait some more.

I've used running as my shield. My "only". The definition of who I am for hopes that I could run off the weight, run off the depression and if I could just crack my marathon time goal, everything would be OK. I'd be happy again and then I could solve everything.

Well, shocker, that didn't happen. Or work.

And I don't know what will.

Thank you for sticking with me through all this. And especially through this terribly horrible post that I've just written.

I'm so grateful to all my blog friends who never cease to amaze and inspire me. I'm so grateful for you friendships and hope you know that. So, thank you.

I just thought that by sharing the honest to goodness truth, someone might be able to related. Or maybe I'll just feel better.

We'll see.

(GlamNewlywed, I'll be at home watching Burn Notice on repeat if you'd like to join me--because Michael Weston makes it all better)

Memories

So today as I merrily went about my errand running ways I was pleasantly greeted with the overwhelming intense smell of wisteria. It took me a few minutes to realize it, but, not more than 100 yards from where I was standing is a huge area of wild wisteria. I had totally forgotten about it since it lays "dead" most of the year. Wisteria is one of my favorite things. My mom always planted it our backyard, no matter what. The smell instantly made me happy (albeit a touch heartsick over my mama). I could live in a village of wisteria, I think.

While I was aimlessly comparing nutritional stats of various brands of chips (seriously) I spotted a giant tub of M&M trail mix. The kind my dad and I would stock pile for those long road trips to and from my college. I grabbed a mini bag of the trail mix and have been munching on it all afternoon. It makes me happy. Also, we'd stock pile animal cookies, but, I didn't see those at the store.

On my way out, I stopped by the Easter section for ideas as I've got to hurry up and get those Easter baskets together, I noticed that they now have Reese's Pieces "eggs" (maybe this is old news, but, it's exciting to me). I'm not a huge Reese's Pieces fan, but, I will always remember my mom bringing home a half full bag for me whenever she and my dad would go out to the movies. I don't have many memories of my parents together as a child, so, I hold those very dear to my heart. And for nostalgia's sake, picked up a small box of Reese's Pieces. (haven't eaten those yet--but I will. And soon. It takes work to stay chubby, kids!)

It's funny the things we remember, the things that end up mattering the most. Wisteria, trail mix, and Reese's Pieces? Who knew. (although I do realize that they all involve taste/smell which is strongest linked to memory, blah, blah)

I hope my mom would be happy that I still smile at wisteria and that because of her sweet gesture to save candy for me, I'll always associate Reese's Pieces with family happiness.

I hope my dad knows that I'll always have trail mix and animal cookies (and lemon bars, but, that's another story) waiting for him at my house.

I love days like this. Even though my heart aches for my mom, I'm so happy for the memories.

I wonder what memories I will leave with people?

What are some of your favorite memories?

The Divine Ms. M

Today is a hard day.

Today is my mom's birthday.

And I thought I was handling it better than usual.

(I'm not)

The strangest thing, is that time goes on, it often gets harder--not easier, harder. Maybe because as more time passes, the more real it is; or that fact that more things happen in my life that I can't share with her. I don't exactly know.

And because I'm working on living a Joyful Life (even when my eyes are puffy and I freaking want to wail that I miss my Mommy!), today shall be a focus on my fabulous mother, or, the Divine Ms. M as she was known in her circle of uber cool friends.

I'm joyful because...

• My mother was an amazing cook
• Her laugh was infectious
• She wasn't afraid to be bold
• She taught me that accessories make the outfit
• That red nail polish and red lipstick will never go out of style (and in her honor, my toesies are painted red--first time in months that they haven't been naked!)
• She knew that family was the most important thing
• Her talent for photography was amazing and I am lucky enough to have a majority of her prints in my home
• She never met a stranger
• She taught me that you can and will shove your foot into a too small shoe if necessary (which she did repeatedly with my shoes--she big ol clodhoppers ruined many a shoe of mine)
• Her caring nature was unsurpassed
• Best.spritz.cookies.ever (my dad still has one single cookie in the freezer from the batch she and I made the day before she died)
• I inherited her toes (weird, I know)
• She could kill a container of Chinese takeout and mint chocolate chip ice cream with me any day of the week
• Best.Hot.Chocolate.Maker.Ever
• She always bought me a new mug for holidays--a big fancy soup mug--which often got used for hot chocolate or ice cream
• Her talent for writing was something she passed to me
• She taught me that the best cure for anything was a musical (sidenote: The Sound of Music was on ABC Family all weekend!)
• Playing dress up was always encouraged
• She taught me to appreciate different foods at an early age (um, how many kids do you know who eat shrimp? My babysitters always thought my mom was joking when she left them with a note regarding shrimp, beets and a dinner salad for me...complete with gummi worms, obvs)
• Her love of travel

She was an amazing woman. At the end of the day, I miss her terribly. There aren't words to describe how much I miss her, and nothing will ever replace her.

I was leaving the store yesterday and saw a mom and daughter walking out together--the daughter was probably mid 30s and it was just so sweet. You could tell they were mother and daughter. I got a little teary because I'll never have that--sure, I have fabulous in laws and a great step mom, but, it's just a connection that can't be replaced.

As much as I miss her, I know how lucky I was. Many people aren't blessed to have fabulous parents, some don't even know their mothers. The 19 short but wonderful years I had with her was better than many people will have over a lifetime--f0r that, I am joyful.

Thanks for indulging me in a walk down memory lane....

Honesty in 3....2....1...

So, here at SP's Royal Blog, we try not to get too sappy and emotional (lest of course we are talking about our mother, earthquakes and or the ever missing blessing onesies). So, please pass by if you were hoping for commentary on The Office (freaking hilarious), notes on Simon Baker (re-runs--again!) or stories about my shopping habits (um... yeah... I'm in trouble).

I've written this post a hundred times in my head (and I'm sure it sounds better in there!), but, anyways, here goes:

Today (well, actually 1.5 hours ago) a dear friend of mine was induced and sometime today or early tomorrow she will become a mother. I'm beyond thrilled for her, but, I won't lie and tell you that last night when I found out she was being induced today, that I didn't shed a little tear. Everyone I know (blog and real life) it seems is on the baby making bandwagon--which is awesome. I sometimes try to steal my friends kids, but, um, for some reason the kids always want to go with Mommy and Daddy. Hm, weird--I have cake.

You see, I want to be a mother. Desperately. Side note: young, cute, fun mother. My husband and I have been married for almost 4 years. Most people at this point in their marriage have a brood. Yes, we married young and kids were not feasible the first two years. We've tried and failed and then waited and waited. Waited until I got a steady job. Waited until after X, waited until after Y, waited until after Z.... the list goes on. It's frustrating because as much as I want children, we can't financially justify it right now (please let my husband find a job). So, each time I see someone else who is pregnant, or having a baby, a little bit of my heart cries (and please, mommies to be and mommies, please know that I love you all so much and am so happy and thrilled for you all--because honestly, how awesome is it be create a little human?).

But, last night, after I wiped away my tear, I had a thought. A notion perhaps.

While previously it was all about counting down the months until, I've found something new to look forward to: running.

Of course it's no replacement for motherhood, but, it's a darn good way to give me something to work towards, to look forward to and to distract me (honesty, I told you). I'm running my first race next month, am running another in July, and hopefully a half marathon in August (which my co-workers want to come cheer at--love it). But, this morning, as I said a prayer for BFF A and her baby on the way, I also gave thanks for my energy, for my body--for the fact that I was up at 5:30 driving to the gym to run 4.15 miles--something that just a few months ago seemed hilarious. But, I'm doing it. I'm doing something for me. Something that I can share with my children, and ultimately, something that I believe will make me a better mother.

I don't know what "The Plan" that the Big Man Upstairs has for my husband and I, and I don't try to know. I just know that I've been blessed. Blessed with amazing friends who are amazing mothers who are showing me the ropes; blessed with almost 4 years of challenging, wonderful, hilarious marriage; blessed with a job that allows me go to the gym at lunch; blessed with legs that can run; blessed with the energy and love of so many people.

It may still be a while before we're blessed to be parents, but, until then, you can find me running.

Oh, and drinking lots of water out of my fancy pink water bottle. Obviously.

Happy Friday y'all!

Dear Mom,

Have I mentioned that I miss you lately? Because, I really do. I spent weeks tracking down that lemon pie recipe we always made at Easter--and I'm totally thrilled because this will be the first Easter in 6 (6?!) years that I'll get to eat it--let's hope I make it as well as you did. Fingers crossed.

I love Easter. I remember making bunny cupcakes and eating Peeps with you. I loved that even when I was a high school senior, I still got an Easter basket. Because you cared about things like that. I loved Easter Egg Hunts and swimming pools after church. I'm excited that now we actually have our own home and we can invite people over to celebrate the holiday, since we're 1,200 miles away from the rest of our family. I hope I can make dinner as special as you did. Either way, I am looking forward to it.

But, I miss you. It's not the same without you. I feel weird taking so much time to decorate a stupid cupcake when I don't know that anyone will understand the significance of said cupcake. Maybe when I have children, it'll be easier--I can have the same relationship that you and I had with my own daughter.

Speaking of, I have been looking for those dang onesies that Grandma and Aunt Eunice were blessed in. I mean, seriously, searching for the last 5.5 years. Can't find them and it stresses me out to high heaven. If my children aren't blessed in those onesies, I might actually die of a broken heart (seriously--I've dreamt of my children wearing those since I was a little girl).

See? These are the things that keep me up at night. Because you would know exactly where they were/are. Maybe you could help guide me to find them? Because seriously.

Anyways, everything is relatively the same here, I guess. Just missing you especially as I think about the spring and summer months and how much I wish we could meet up with Lara and go to Cafe Vio for breakfast (um, Bailey is taller than me now. I am so not kidding).

But, we can't.

I'm so lucky that I had you. I'm so lucky for the relationship we had. I'm so lucky that you taught me so much. And that you were a packrat (please, with the onesies already--help!)--I have tons of family memories. I'm so lucky to know that families are forever.

I miss you. I love you. I hope I make you proud.

xoxox