Posts from — August 2011

Both of my parents have taught me lessons about life, but earlier this afternoon I was reminded of one of my dad’s absolute favorite quotes. It prompted me to take a minute and think about my father’s favorite life lessons, lessons that he made sure to impress on both my sister and myself when we were growing up. Lessons that I will always remember as my dad’s. Simple, easy lessons.

• Self-advocacy: You’ll never know unless you ask.
• Presume: It’s easier to ask for forgiveness, rather than for permission.
• Career: Dress for the job you want, not the job you have.
• Finance: A penny saved is a penny earned.
• Life: Live as you will wish to have lived when you are dying.

I wouldn’t go as far as saying that I’ve ever been a daddy’s girl, but my father and I such a special connection. It’s certainly different from the kind of relationship he has with my sister; it’s a different kind of closeness. An understanding, an often unspoken emotional connection. As a teenager I was a brat, I was erratic, and I was a handful. But my dad put up with me, and to make up for my behaviors he just loved me a little harder. Since then, my relationship with dad has become better, closer, and more mature… year after year. And I’m so thankful for all of the memories we’ve made as father and daughter. We’ve shared a lot together, just the two of us, and one of the most precious memories will forever be our trip to Peru together.

We spent a week sweating, working hard, giving back to a community completely destroyed by an earthquake. We laughed around a nightly fire, met incredibly people from all over the world, and made memories together that no one else in our family will every truly understand. I love you pops!

Seven years ago today, a father and mother lost their son, a wife lost her husband, a little girl lost her daddy.  Seven years ago today, my sister and I lost our brother.  A family tragedy, an unexplainable accident.  Seven years ago today was the worst day of my life, and now seven years older, seven years more mature, more experienced, I’m still devastated by my family’s loss.  A loss so large, I hold no expectation I’ll ever ‘get over it’ or move on.

We miss you. Every. Single. Day.

As cliche as it may sound – it really is the little things that can in a second, without pause or hesitation change your momentary mood or outlook on life.

• A rainy day refreshes your mood after a week-long hot spell.
• A day at the beach makes you thankful for close friends, and your beautiful surroundings.
• A trip to the farmer’s market makes you feel healthier, livelier.
• A new iced coffee tumbler, suddenly makes it more acceptable to forgo your usual overpriced Starbucks and instead brew your own drink instead.

And then every so often, quite frequently occurring with little notice, there are the big things. The occurrences that you will always remember as the exact opposite of “the little things in life.” They too, without pause or hesitation change your life forever. Sometimes, in the case of a wedding proposal or newborn baby or job offer, it’s for the better.

And other times, in the case of a dreaded diagnosis, a rare, malignant cancer, it’s for the worse.

Tonight I am thankful for my own health. The health of my parents, my sister, my boyfriend, my best friends. But woven into my selfish appreciation for good health, I’m grieving one of those big moments. Grieving the news that will without a doubt change the lives of so many people that I love.

To whomever is out there listening. To God and the angels and spirits. Please pray for my boyfriend’s family.

As a little girl, I wanted to be one thing, and one thing only. Famous. I didn’t know how or what it would take to become famous, but I thought it sure would be cool. As I grew into middle and high school, I started thinking about my future more realistically, you know, not in terms of rich, and famous, but in terms of careers. Actual jobs. I envisioned an office, with a door. A 9-5 schedule. I saw lots, and lots of paperwork, filing systems. Repetitive tasks, to-do lists. All of these fit my type-a, over organized personality.

But I also had a list of dreams that looked quite different.  Dreams that for years I ignored. I wanted to be a magazine editor. I wanted to be a greeting card designer. I wanted to be a photographer.

I think I always feared the creativity that I knew existed inside of me. My parents saw it, my teachers saw it, but my friends would think I was a loser. So I ignored those dreams, silenced my creativity, and continued down the expected path of a straight A, over-involved, over-achiever. I played all the sports, participated in all of the activities at school. I had all of the friends and all the coolness and went about my life like I thought I should as a queen bee. I went to college. I chose a typical degree in education and now have a job at the world’s largest education company.

I work a 9-5. I don’t have the piles of paper and filing systems and repetitive tasks and to-do lists I once envisioned, but in all other regards my job is typical. It’s not pushing me creatively. And now, at 25, I know that’s what I want.

I want to be doing, making, producing… things. I want to be designing and printing and publishing.

The boyf and I recently crashed at one of my best girlfriend’s house in Maine for a Friday night.  My parents were expecting guests for the weekend, and we didn’t quite feel like spending the weekend on an aerobed in my basement.  So my girlfriend and her husband invited us to stay with them.  They live right down the road from my parents, have an absolutely adorable house, and apparently are quite the hosts!

We picked up Lilly from work on our way into town, and when we walked into her house 20 minutes later we found her husband John in the kitchen.  Cutting and chopping.  Stove top sizzling, oven preheating.  Wine glasses ready to go, bottle of wine chilling, chips and homemade salsa already prepared and out on the bar.  So is this what I have to look forward to in married life?  I sure hope so!

John was preparing chicken and shrimp fajitas, with diced tomatos, avacado, mango, cilantro and onion.  Lemon and lime for squeezing and a one-of-a-kind pesto chili peppered aioli.  Don’t ask what went into the aioli, I have absolutely no idea.  All I know is that I wanted more, and more, and more of it!

After dinner and wine, we carried the wine into the living room and continued the night with card games and good conversation.  After being conditioned to believe that the only ‘good nights out’ include a taxi ride, cover and overcrowded, loud bar, it was incredible to reminded that fun nights with friends can take place from the couch.

Married life is looking better and better every single day.

I’ve spoken before of my adoration of farmer’s markets.  It’s a love that goes back to my early childhood.  It reminds me of summer weekends with my parents, seasonal fruit for breakfast and fresh cut fl0wers on the kitchen table.  And now that I live in the city, amongst many too-busy-to-smell-the-roses professionals, the sight of a farmer’s market makes my heart skip a beat.

It’s also a great excuse to take pictures, even if just on my iPhone.

So here’s to continuing my weekend trips to the farmer’s market, to buying fresher, to eating healthier.

I know that public transportation in Boston is incredibly busy, especially during the morning and afternoon commutes. Trust me, I know.  I’ve been squeezed and squished and squashed on the T every morning and every afternoon for the past three years. So I say this from experience folks.  If you actually tried to move out of the way when I’m standing next to you saying excuse me, excuse me, excuse me.  If you even tried, just a few inches to the left or right… well then maybe, just maybe my oversized Longchamp bag -stuffed full with my lunch and laptop and rain coat and god knows what else I carry in my bag everyday- wouldn’t knock you upside the back, butt or hip.  And how dare you then huff and puff and look over your shoulder and glare at me when it happens? I know the T is crowded, but you could have at least tried.

Breakfast is not a meal that I often venture very far for, and rarely do I go searching for a new spot to get my eggs or granola.  But earlier this month a company outing brought me to a neighborhood of Boston that I frequented only at 2AM in my college days.  This time, I was there at 8AM on a weekday.  A few work friends decided to meet an hour earlier than our official outing and grab breakfast.

We picked North 26 Restaurant and Bar in the Millennium Hotel.  I certainly never would have chosen a hotel restaurant for breakfast, but North 26 exceeded all of my expectations.  The restaurant was surprisingly chic, the hotel lobby was gorgeous (seriously, the interior designer deserves a huge pat on the back for some of its unique design elements) and the food was mmm mmm good.

I ordered the vegetarian benedict with wilted spinach and asparagus, hollandaise and the signature English muffin.  I order benedicts a lot and I have to honestly say this was one of the best.   To top it off, I asked for an ice coffee, and although it’s not on the menu the server made one on the spot and added a bit of espresso.  Just for kicks!  I tell ya, more people should think like him.

Saturday afternoon the boyf and I celebrated the completion of his road race with a fun outdoor lunch at  Portland Lobster Co..  I used to work at the restaurant when I was in high school, and despite it’s paper plates and picnic tables, I still firmly believe that it’s one of the hidden gems in Portland.  It’s not so much a secret.  Tourists flock here, and on a midsummers day you’re lucky to find a seat.  Us locals tend to overlook these tourist traps, but PLC is not to be missed.

The atmosphere is amazing.  The indoor restaurant space is just large enough for 4 or 5 small parties, so the majority of the seating is outside.   And trust me, that’s just fine.  The patio is actually a wharf, so you’re eating alongside the ocean, literally next to lobster boats and there’s almost always a live band to keep you entertained.  They serve beer, wine and a homemade sangria and man, it’s just Maine for you.  It attracts families and young couples, hippies and yuppies.  They serve a mean lobster with the meat from a 1lb lobster and nothing says summer like an order of steamers.

The boyf’s mom even joined us for a bit to enjoy the sunshine and steamers, and despite his look below, I promise you, we had a great afternoon.  This is his standard ‘are you done taking pictures yet?’ face.  I’m becoming more and more familiar with it.  Whoops.

Before you get to excited from reading the word running in a post title, sit back down.  I didn’t run this year’s Beach To Beacon 10K in Cape Elizabeth but the boyf sure did!  On top of it being my mum’s birthday, the annual road race was the other main event this weekend.

The road race attracts over 6,000 runners and more than 10,000 spectators, so the entire morning is exciting.  The runners start (would you believe it) near a beach on Route 77 and run 6.2 miles ending at (drum roll please) Portland Headlight.  Get it?  Beach to beacon.  The setting is one of a kind with the finish line just below the lighthouse and all of the event’s hoopla right in Fort Williams State Park.  The park has always been one of my favorite places at home, so you don’t have to twist my arm to get me back there.  Just don’t ask me to run.

Portland Head Light & the post race madness

Wake up time was 6:00am, and by 7:00am I had already driven the runners (boyf and friend) to the runners drop off location.  I then made my way to a back street behind the state park, found what I hoped was a legal parking spot and made the 20 minute walk to the finish line.  Spectators are welcomed to view the finish from only the right side of the race course.  The area is congested and viewers stand 4-5 rows deep, hoping to see up and over the herds of people in front of them to spot their friends as they run by for what lasts just a few seconds.  I hadn’t watched the race in a number of years, but my memory served me well.

When I used to watch my dad run years ago, Mum would always sneak us through an old soccer field, to a break in the woods where we could watch the race from the other side of the course.  I found our old perch and waited.  The race is exciting, the crowd comes alive as runners dash to the finish, and there are so many locals that run the race so it’s great fun trying to spot friends and family, friends of friends, and people you’ve never met but you’re sure that you’re friends on Facebook. Yes, I just said that.  And meant it.

With the runner after this year’s Beacon to Beacon 10K

Words of advice: have a gameplan for after the race if you ever plan on finding your friends!