The Question Never Asked

I was living on the east coast...he came for Christmas, GORGEOUS ring in tow.  The plan had been set for months for the day after Christmas.  Family, New York City, Empire State Building, proposal of a lifetime.  What could be more romantic?

And then it snowed.  And snowed.  And snowed.  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/December_2010_North_American_blizzard

We were snowed in.  Plans to explore NYC together spoiled, plans for this well thought out plan buried in the 32inches of snowfall.  I was disgruntled, to say the least...all I wanted was to show Dan New York, he making every effort to concoct PLAN B.
After much effort, on his part, we finally decided to be snowed in together at the closest hotel possible.  It was 10pm, we just checked into the hotel a 1/2 mile from my sister's house.  Dan was kneeling on the floor and I was sitting on the couch.  He reminded me how much he loved me and how much he couldn't wait to spend forever together....something like this:

Dan: Ferd, you know how much I love you, right?
Me: Yes
Dan: And you know how much I can't wait for you to be my wife?
Me:  I know.
Dan:  For all you know, I was going to ask you in the N  Y  C.
Me: Shut up, that's not even funny.
Dan:  For all you know, I'm about to ask you now...
Me:  What?
Dan: Ferd, will you......

The actual question was never even asked. Before Dan could get the rest of the sentence out, I somehow went from a perched position to leaping onto him. 

It was prefectly imperfect.

New York City can keep its Empire State Building.  The proposal couldn't have been more perfect.  Snowed in together, the streets quiet, alone to share the moment.  This was the moment two people had decided to spend forever together and this was exactly how it was supposed to happen.

Dear Cancer...Good Luck.

I've debated on whether or not I was actually going to post this for quite some time, based on the single fact that she is just as private as I am. But with time, I have decided that its too bad. I love her. And she needs to hear this.

 

I often look at my life, the struggles that I have been through, the ones I have had to fight my way through. Often times I reflect on where I had the strength to do it. The strength to overcome obstacles with such perseverance. The determination to not allow so many things from crippling me. I look back and realize that so much of my strength comes from a 5'4 stubborn little mule. And to her I need to say thank you.

 

In January, my mom was diagnosed with cancer. A mean little bastard. An unloved, un-welcomed disease. Since the day we heard the news, I have been at a constant internal struggle with the decision to go back, even though she begs me not to. She says chasing my own dreams are more important to her. I realize that me being there won't cure cancer. I realize that I can't even take her pain away (I CAN however shove pain meds down her throat). But there is something about our bond that makes me feel like I CAN fix her, even if its just fixing her soul.

 

Maybe it stems back to the accident when she was pregnant with me. Maybe it stems back to all my childhood days at Shriners Hospital. Maybe it stems back to the first time I moved away from her. Or the struggles through high school. Or the realization of a parallel universe over coffee, after leaving the courthouse. Through every battle I have encountered, she has been there. By my side. Every time.

 

Regardless of what it is, we are glue. Not a mother daughter, friend to friend, family to family glue. A glue of something so much deeper.

 

I sit now and watch her, listen to her, and feel her go through one hell of a fight. I want to tell her that I love her. That I am proud of her. That no matter how bad of a day it is, I'm here with her, even when I am 500 miles away. I'm here with her the ways that she has been with me all these years. She's an inspiration to me. A fighter. A hero. A role model.

 

Cancer affects families on regular basis. People fight. They win. They lose. Cancer attacks the soul and the spirit as much as it attacks the physical body. I want to tell her that I got this. Concentrate on the physical Momma…I got your spirit. Wrapped up in my hands, guarded by my heart. I want to tell her that even on her weakest days, the days she hates this hand, the days she has a hard time telling cancer to f*&% off….I will. We are a team. I will laugh in its face as you beat this, even on the days you can't.

 

 

"I have heard there are troubles of more than one kind.
Some come from ahead and some come from behind.
But I've bought a big bat. I'm all ready you see.
Now my troubles are going to have troubles with me!"
~Dr. Seuss

 

Sometimes, its just about listening to the right doctor.

 

I love you mom.

My Postcards

“In the future, in the wind, in the dark on the observation deck at the top of the Space Needle, Brandy Alexander, that brand-name queen supreme that she is, Brandy comes out to Seth and I with souvenirs of the future. These are postcards so faded and dog-eared and picked over and ignored that they've survived in the back of a revolving wire rack for years. Here are pictures of the future with clean, sun-bleached skies behind an opening-day Space Needle. Here's the Monorail full of smiling babes in Jackie O pink mohair suits with three huge cloth-covered buttons down the front. Children in striped T-shirts and blonde astronaut crew cuts run through a Science Center where all the fountains still work.
‘Tell the world what scares you most,’ says Brandy. She gives us each an Aubergine Dreams eyebrow pencil and says, ‘Save the world with some advice from the future.’
Seth writes on the back of a card and hands it to Brandy for her to read.
On game shows, Brandy reads, some people will take the trip to France, but most will take the wash dryer pair.
Brandy puts a big Plumbago kiss on the little square for the stamp and lets the wind lift the card and sail it off toward the towers of downtown Seattle.
Seth hands her another, and Brandy reads:
Game shows are designed to make us feel better about the random, useless facts that are all we have left of our education.
A kiss, and the card’s on its way toward Lake Washington.
From Seth:
When did the future switch from being a promise to being a threat?
A kiss, and it’s off on the wind toward Ballard.
Only when we eat up this planet will God give us another. We’ll be remembered more for what we destroy than what we create.
Interstate 5 sneaks by in the distance. From high atop the Space Needle, the southbound lanes are red chase lights, and the northbound lanes are white chase lights. I take a card and write:
I love Seth Thomas so much I have to destroy him. I over-compensate by worshipping the queen supreme. Seth will never love me. No one will ever love me again.
Brandy is waiting to take the card and read it out loud. Brandy’s waiting to read my worst fears to the world, but I don’t give her the card. I kiss it myself with the lips I don’t have and let the wind take it out of my hand. The card flies up, up, up to the stars and then falls down to land in the suicide net.
While I watch my future trapped in the suicide net, Brandy reads another card from Seth.
We are all self-composting.
I write on another card from the future, and Brandy reads it,
When we don’t know who to hate, we hate ourselves.
An updraft lifts my worst fears from the suicide net and sails them away.
Seth writes and Brandy reads.
You have to keep recycling yourself.
I write and Brandy reads.
Nothing of me is original. I am the combined effort of everybody I’ve ever known.
I write and Brandy reads.The one you love and the one who loves you are never, ever the same person.”
- taken from Invisible Monsters by Chuck Palahniuk


This book was originally given to me by a great friend, and as promised, one of the better I have read. I have to admit that I have actually read this twice now. And after some time passing, am truly inspired by the passage above. Maybe a little lengthy to share in a blog, but important for you to read, even if you never read the book.

By the way, read the book.

As I reflect on what this passage means to me, I must confess, it definitely has a different meaning the 2nd time around. Funny how that works. I sit and think about what I would tell my past self, if I could, if with my own time capsule. I take out my own set of postcards, and I write from the future. I write not on top of the Space Needle. I write not to be read by Brandy Alexander. Birds did not eat my face. I write from my own future. And I write with such great hope:

Cancer will not affect your children, the way it has affected the children of each generation.

Do not give the man that tore everything from you power over you, especially after 13 long years. Take the power back.

Girls can no longer think being dumb is cute. Women are their own destiny. Relationships are success’ mere accessory.

Don’t complain about what government doesn’t do for you. Become part of the movement. Better yet, start the movement.

Insecurities and fear are best fought with perseverance and humility.

Love comes from the corners in which your best support stands in.

Letting someone in and telling them your story is the best form of therapy.

99.9% of people are full of shit. Finding the .1% that aren’t, are worth it.

Men make girls crazy, and girls make men assholes. It’s a vicious circle. Welcome to the party.

Fighting back is worth it. Even if the best you can do is a split lip. Never let a man put his hands on you again.

Credit cards are fashioned by the devil. Its been said she wears Prada.

It isn’t about finding the perfect person to start a relationship with; it’s about finding the person that doesn’t make you want to jump off a building.

Before you whine about how the good of America helps the less fortunate, ask yourself if you would fight for the good of America that has been handed to you on a silver platter.

Spend an afternoon with someone you think is too old to be coherent. Spend an afternoon with someone you think is too young to have an opinion. You’ll be reminded of what you allow to be lost.

Every woman should have a killer set of heels, a sexy black dress, a suit that makes her feel like she can run the world, a recipe that can be executed with little shown effort, and a passion of her own.

Rape and terrorism is fueled by the same power: fear. Stop being afraid.

A checklist is never a bad thing, no matter what anyone says.

Laugh until it hurts. If you don’t laugh enough, find new friends.

If given the chance to write your own postcard, what would you say?



And to the one that challenged me to write my own....thank you.

New Year Part II - "Love is the Fabric of Life"

The excitement of a new year brought me to New York City. I had gone with hopes of feeling rejuvenated and plans to refocus. I had started to feel the effects of leaving everything that became my life in weeks prior and had definitely needed a spark. It would be the first time my sister and I were able to spend New Years together in our adult lives. We decided that standing in Times Square wasn't really conducive to the attire we were planning...typical girls I suppose. Instead, we opted for the Bootleggers Ball in Brooklyn, thanks to Diz.

After running the streets of New Haven, CT to catch the Metro North (and absolutely making it), Krissy and I were on our way to the big city. For the record, I will admit that it was more than likely my fault we were running late. Fashionably late doesn't really work well for public transportation, and I see the importance in probably improving at that. I figure I have a long enough list at the present moment, I'll save that for a resolution during a boring year.

Stepping my little 3 1/2" boot heels onto the streets of New York City did just as I had expected. There is something about the city that I can't really explain. Its a fire inside my little soul reminding me that I am bigger than what my prior surroundings provided me. Whether it be the inspiration to dream bigger, the smell of street side vendors, or the energy it provides, it gets me. I love NY and NY loves me.


This is what we walked into.

It was like we stepped back into the 20s.

It was fantastic.

Head ornaments of all sorts, men actually dressed nicely, not the lame version most men think is nice in our day. Good spirits and great people surrounding us.



I was excited for a new year, even though I had grown to finally appreciate what 2009 brought me. With my party dress, a string of pearls, and my own little head ornament, I set out for what would be the only way I envisioned ringing in 2010.

(pictured left to right: Krissy, Me, Nadine, Rachel)

Champagne flowed, laughter shared, memories made. For us 4 girls, this night all meant the same in each of our own very different ways.

Rachel had convinced me to get my tarot cards read. She had explained the importance of positive energy, and how it directly reflects the reading provided. It was just past midnight, the ball had dropped, it had officially become the new year. It wasn't going to get more positive than this. I had so much to look forward to...and at this moment, that's all I could think about.

Its amazing what a stranger can say, and how easily it can affect your life. I had sat down, and cut the deck, just as she instructed. She glanced at the cards, looked up at me, and shook her head in disapproval. What...am I dying? How bad can this get?

She had told me she saw turmoil and heartache. That there was a relationship lost (notice the emperor card) with either my father or a lover....considering my daddy is still my daddy, lets assume the latter. She talked about a heavy weight I carry, that I assume I have to lift on my own. That I continue to be strong and that I don't let myself grieve. That I long for love and fulfillment, but have made positive steps towards accomplishing that. (Trust me, at this point, I was waiting for the good news) She explained how important my inner strength is to me, and how whatever steps I am taking to better myself will payoff. She talked about my new desire to get it down, for the universe to read. I was entertained by that, considering this book venture of mine. That I need to communicate above me, not always in me...and that no matter how my heart cries, for whatever it was going through, Love is life. And Love is the fabric of life.

There was no denying what she told me affected me. I had looked across the table at a perfect stranger and wondered how in the hell she got all that from me cutting the deck a few times. She looked back across the table, stood up, and gave me a hug. I said "gosh I needed that", to which she responded, "I know".

Maybe this is something I will do again, just to see if the cards change. Whether a tarot card reading is something to be valued or not, it inspired me. Love is life, and love carries you through life. Hate holds love, resentment holds love, anger holds love. In a world so cold, so angry and violent, there is still love somewhere that keeps it going.

Too often we put so much emphasize on "love" being found and lost in romantic relationships, that we lose all of the other aspects of our life love is found. Its in the stranger holding the door open, in the one smile that makes a bad day better. Its the mothers brush of your hair that calms a fear. The taste of something delicious. Its the laughter shared between friends. The memories from childhood scars. Its the plans to grow old with someone. Its in a child telling you they love you. Its in the pride of an accomplishment.

Love is the string, the bond, the fabric that hold all of our lives together.

Oh New York, it is you I love...you continue to inspire me.

New Year, new you? Right now, new me.

It's been said that the first time the ball dropped in Times Square was in 1907, while the tradition of setting New Year's resolutions dates all the way back to the Babylonians. As this year starts to dwindle down, I take a step back to reflect on what 2009 has brought me. Resolutions made and unkept. Resolutions intended for the 2010.

This year has been a trying year for me, to say the least. From family feuds, to make-ups, to learning to let go, to moving, to finally being selfish. It seems that every year, by the end of the year, so many of us exclaim "I can't wait for 2000-whatever!" Why is it that so many of us only think to make resolutions just because a new year is beginning? Why is that we don't wake up every morning, and immediately make a change? Why do so many of us take our business practices and apply them to our every day life? All too often we live by deadlines, and the habit of procrastinating our growth as we reach them.

I had high hopes for 2009, as the end of 2008 came to a close. I had found new inspiration in my life that challenged me to think deeper, to communicate more, to let people in. I had started focusing on what I was really feeling and what I was trying so hard to escape from. In some odd sense, this inspiration had almost become a hero to me. A hero to a lost soul. Lost in a world, consumed so deeply in everyone else. Brought to surface with conversation, insight, and understanding.

But 2009 didn't start off great for me. In fact, it was heartbreaking on a level that I never thought possible. My family had the biggest divide in our history, at least a divide that had actually mattered to me. I had never felt so alone, betrayed, and just fed up. Fed up with the human race as it stands. Had the good in people really gone away? Have people lived a life of bullshit for so long, that its all we know anymore? I didn't speak to my family for almost 4 1/2 months, and I had no idea the challenge of growth I was about to embark on. I had looked around, and saw the people that were standing so close and had realized that its possible that family isn't just made up of people you share DNA with. Its comprised of a group of people that love each other. Love each other to the core, a sometimes imperfect core. People that listen, support, and encourage. People that I will hold close to my heart till the day I die.

2009 sped its way along. I lost my full time job to layoffs in February due to the economy, but luckily fell into a much better position for a boss that has done more for me than even he probably knows. A love that I had thought was over came back and still ran through my veins, and pulled at my heartstrings. Plans were made, details unkept. I had realized the unhappiness in my heart far beyond broken relationships. Made the selfish decision to move, to better me. As 2009 came to a close, even in its last days, I started to think how ridiculously terrible this year has been for me. Pity party table of one. But ironically as I started writing this blog, I had realized that maybe this year has been a blessing. I had fallen deeper in love with my friends, I was blessed with meeting and growing close to new people, I had rediscovered my dreams and held them at the importance that I should. Maybe my resolution for 2009 just came a little late.

A new year sparks new hope. New life. A new start. Some people decide to quit smoking. Most go on some ridiculous diet that usually fails in the second month. The tradition of setting a resolution has lost its potency. People fall victim to comfort, and lose the drive for continuous growth. Why wait for the end of a year, to make a promise to yourself for the success of the next? As the promise of a new year fell upon me, I had decided that there would be no place better than the place my dreams lie...New York City. And there would be no resolution better than the resolution to never stop growing, to never forget myself, to always go where my dreams lie.

Rolling Stone

I remember waking up early one morning. And by early, I actually mean early, not the early I had grown to adapt to working later in the afternoons. It was 6am when I rolled over and looked at my phone. I remember feeling discontent and anxious that morning, like a sickness in my stomach. I tried to go back to sleep, but I couldn't. Like most times when I lay in bed, my mind was racing. I find so many things to distract myself with during the day, ways to escape a lot of my thoughts, but somehow they always find me in bed. Which ironically, leads to most of the thoughts I have in the first place....we'll get into that later.

I had done the usual, check my emails, read the drunk texts from my friends the night before, check the ever addicting social sites...but I couldn't ignore this feeling. This wasn't just a pink elephant in the room anymore. It was a herd of pink elephants doing the twist at the foot of the bed. I needed change, and it had never been so clear.

I had tossed around the idea of change so many times before. Knowing that my soul was no longer being fed. Knowing that of all the things I wanted to accomplish, somehow, I just couldn't do them here. Knowing that if I wanted to have a different life, I actually had to make that change myself. I remember driving to work one day last winter. A box truck had passed me on the freeway, and on the side read an inscription: "Life doesn't get better by chance, it gets better by change." And for whatever reason that morning, that's all I could think about.

I needed a break from whatever reality I called life. There was a girl, playing hide and go seek with me. But no matter how fast I ran, or what strategic plan I had made to catch her, I never could. Every time I caught up, she disappeared. I was playing hide and go seek with my own shadow. And in my shadow lay all of my passions. I couldn't catch her, and for the first time, I finally realized why. I had spent so much time, spending so much effort, into making everyone else around me happy. I have an uncontrollable desire to feel loved, and with that desire, comes an uncontrollable obession to make other people happy. I had grown to believe that if I can make someone else happy, in turn, they will just love me. But what happens if they don't? Why was I looking to so many external sources, when the secret to be loved can only be found in yourself? I had spent so much of my energy being a support for family, friends, and lovers that I never left any for myself. For the first time in my life I knew that I HAD to come first. I knew that I had to do something selfish. I had lost myself in everyone else's happiness, dreams, and passions. I had looked to so many people to fill a void that undeniably was in my heart. Sure, I am a product of some bad situations, situations that have absolutely shaped who I am as a woman, but I couldn't hide in that excuse anymore. I know what makes me happy. So if most unhappy people are unhappy because they don't know what MAKES them happy....and I stand here, KNOWING what makes me happy, why I am still so confused? If I feel like the answer to all my questions are printed on a banner being held by the twisting elephants, why I am still so reluctant?

I lay awake that morning for six hours. I'm not really sure why. I don't know if I was waiting for a reaction within myself. Or if maybe I was trying to talk myself out of it. Or maybe I was just finally content in my decision. But for whatever reason, I lay there. Quiet and still. And I knew. I got up, put whatever belongings I had in that room in my ironically hot pink totes, and started the process.

A lot of people have asked why I finally decided to move away. And for most, their questions have gone unanswered. I won't deny that there were influences in my decision, and some know what those influences were. To those that don't, you won't find that answer here. But let me state for the record that I left for me. I am on a journey to finding me, to feeding my own dreams, passions and soul. Is there ever a point in your life, when reinventing yourself is inappropriate? My answer is no. And that is exactly what I plan on doing.

A Love Affair with Music

L-O-V-E....four letters. Four letters that become a word. A four letter word that can turn your life upside down. A feeling that hits your soul. For some, it becomes a lifetime journey. A deep longing. A quest for something that can make a person feel whole. A passion so deep, it bleeds through your veins.

I fell in love with music. And it came unexpectedly. It wasn't anything I was used to, and most definitely not what I was looking for. It was out of the ordinary for me, but maybe at the point I was at in my life, it was something that I needed.

It was a passionate affair. A love so deep it made my body ache. I had laughed harder than I can remember. I had felt my inside smile. Whether I had invited it or not, it had touched my soul, and for the first time in ages I felt alive again. I had become so cynical, I wasn't sure that love really existed. Or maybe I just wasn't sure that it existed for me. Music came into my life, and I loved. I loved with everything I had in me.
Music didn't just make me laugh, it made me cry. I cried. I cried long and hard. I had realized that in all that I had come to love, music couldn't love me the same way in return. It had become venom and I had started to resent it. There is selfishness with music that is so deeply rooted. It is covered in all its glitz and glamour. It's hidden in all its lyrics of love. Sometimes music can break your heart. And it had definitely broken mine. It wasn't long before I realized that music had deceived me. It gobbled me up, and spit me out. I was left empty, blank, and confused. I had become such a part of music, but had music truly become a part of me? How can something that you love so much, and feel so much love from, become something that can hurt just as deeply? I had walked away and realized that for the first time, I really let it all go. I really let it in. And when I looked around, I realized it had left me. And maybe that's what it was supposed to do.

My love affair with music came and went. I sang lyrics of love, and lyrics of pain. There were lyrics of betrayal and disappointment, and equally lyrics of regret and forgiveness. Songs of love and passion. The feeling of forever and the loss of time. Music had hurt me once before, but I had never stopped loving it. I never stopped listening to it, and enjoying it all around me. I had become lost in all that it was to me. But did music need me as much as I needed it? The thing that I learned about my love for music, is that even as I sit here, bitter, hurt, and angry....it was worth it. Maybe music cannot love me the way I need it to, or the way I want. Maybe music doesn't long for me the way I do it...but it loves me nonetheless. In it's imperfect ways, it loves me. And in some way, it needs me too.

No one anticipates heartache when they fall in love. But heartache is a risk you take. The difference is embarking on a love affair that is not just worth the risk, but actually worth the heartache. Because when you are alone, and the tears finally slow down...can that love still fill the cavity of your soul? Is it possible that love really does conquer all? Maybe not in the storybook version we would all like, but maybe in its own way it does. The variables of love change with the seasons. Love affairs come and go, some memories begin to fade, and the heart eventually heals. The only constant, is that no matter how much heartbreak music and its love leaves, there are still only 24 hours in a day. No matter how much I miss music, how much I sadly still long for it, I know that this day will eventually end. And against all resistance, tomorrow will begin.

Loving something, truly loving something, requires you to step out of a comfort zone. To give in to fear. To let go of every inhibition and just be. There are no rules for love. No manual containing steps to avoid heartache. To love something, you have to tear away all its layers. All its glitz and glamour. Erase all of the footnotes. Truly love the paper that all the imperfect lyrics are written on.

I love music, and for some brief period in my journey, I know that music loved me too.Photo by Nadine Miranda