trying to move forward with a happy spirit

image by Whitton & White

Yesterday, everything I've been trying to juggle and cope with slapped me in the face--hard. I've been combating feelings of anxiety and stress ever since. As a result, I turned to junk food to cope and now feel even worse. Isn't it awesome how that works? Coke, brownies, and french fries do not eliminate stress, but my goodness it certainly seems like a good idea at the time. I'm never going to give up comfort food, but the amount I've consumed in the last 48 hours goes a little beyond "comfort".

Today I've realized I need to regroup and deal with my stressors through healthy forms of self-care. Going for a walk, writing in my journal, painting my toenails, calling a friend, and reading my scriptures are all much healthier ways to lessen my anxiety and feelings of self doubt. Remembering to be patient and taking lots of deep breaths usually helps too.

It's not always easy to move forward with a happy spirit, especially when you're dealing with a lot of unknowns and life changes. This quote from Gordon B. Hinckley is a good reminder to keep an eternal perspective and attitude. I do have faith in his words that if we strive to move forward with a happy spirit things will indeed work out.

losing my single status

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Well kids, it's finally happened. This longtime single girl is single no more. Yes, I have a boyfriend! Are you still breathing? Did you fall over in your chair? Take a step back and just breathe. Everything is ok. You have not been transported to Tomorrowland or any other land where dreams come true. This is real life.

Two months ago I had a different job and was just mildly testing the waters on Match.com. I'd messaged a few guys and a few had reached out to me, but I hadn't found anyone I was particularly interested in. Then one day I received a sweet, well-written message from a cute, LDS guy from the Tri-Cities that made me laugh out loud and smile in a special way.

Over the course of a week or so we sent a few emails back and forth and started getting to know each other. I could tell that this guy was truly interested in me and honestly, the whole thing really freaked me out. It was such a foreign feeling. I was excited but also scared and unsure how to act. 

A few days after we initially started talking I started my new job and used that as an excuse to not reply to his latest message for a couple of days. I wasn't sure how to move forward or if I even wanted to keep emailing. Do I really like this guy or is it just nice to be wanted? What does dating even look like anymore? Can I really do it? Am I capable of letting someone really know me again? All of these questions, along with so many more, bounced around in my head. I was definitely having what they describe in the scriptures as a "stupor of thought". Then, he sent me a short message saying he hoped my first week at my new job was going well. It was time to make a decision--jump in or walk away.

I've struggled with my spirituality over the last few years, especially this past year or so. In my darker times I let simple sources of strength like prayer and scripture reading fall to the wayside. When faced with my aforementioned stupor of thought, I decided to do something I hadn't done in a long time--say a real, heartfelt prayer. It was a short, simple prayer asking for direction and guidance, but it was the first time I humbled myself enough to submit my will to Heavenly Father's. I was blessed with a distinct answer that I should continue my correspondence with Mr. Tri-Cities. I jumped in and haven't looked back.

Next week it will be a year since my personal essay, Accepting the Single Status When Everyone Else is a Couple, was published on The Everygirl. I am in complete awe at how quickly one's life can change. Everything they say about finding love when you least expect it is true. I always thought it was a load of crap, but now thanks to Mr. Tri-Cities, I've joined the believers. And I've got to say, it's a pretty amazing place to be.

I've found that light at the end of the tunnel that I've been searching for. Like I predicted, it's certainly a different hue than I ever imagined, but it's brighter and more brilliant than anything I could have ever hoped. The kind of happiness I am experiencing right now is unlike anything I've ever encountered.

The smallest step really can lead to great things. I believe that with all of my heart.

we all have a story to tell

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Each one of us is living his or her own story. No two stories are the same, and yet, we play pivotal roles in how the stories of others turn out--often without even knowing it. Reality differs for each individual despite the mutual sharing of experiences.

I've found that at times we willingly, although not always consciously, allow others to write our story for us. It's difficult to reconcile your feelings and emotions when you realize that while one person has taken up five chapters of your life, you're only worth a sentence or two in their story--proving the adage "they are always two sides to every story" to be entirely true.

Agency is both beautiful and alarming. As Lord Grantham says in Downton Abbey, "We all have chapters we'd rather keep unpublished." Making mistakes and wrong choices are a part of this life. It's why we're here. To learn and grow. Failure and sin are a natural part of our existence. I wish that was something I had understood earlier in life. It hasn't been until my adult years that I've truly come to see the intrinsic value in failure.

What must we do to ensure we form a narrative we can be proud of? How do we take control of our own story? Right now, the only answer I have is to keep going, to keep trying. Even if everyday you feel like a failure, don't give up. Keep the faith. Have hope. Sometimes phrases like that seem trivial and empty to me, but I know deep down they are true.

The concept of faith and hope has always perplexed me. Which comes first? Can you really not have one without the other? At this time in my life, I feel like I have hope but I lack faith. I think you need faith to take action. Hope is not enough to facilitate change. I need to push through my personal doubts and questions if I'm to find my faith once again. It's been cast aside for too long.

We all have a story to tell. I need to re-invite Heavenly Father to be the co-author of mine.

Published on The Everygirl!

 I'm so excited and honored to have my writing published on The Everygirl today!

A few months ago after writing this post, Alaina contacted me about expanding the post into a feature-length piece. I was so touched that she reached out to me. My first summer in Chicago I had the chance to be among the first batch of Everygirl interns. It's always been a goal of mine to have a feature piece published on the site.

I wrote many drafts until I felt my essay accurately conveyed my feelings about being single. I couldn't have done it without the input and feedback of two dear friends, Sarah and Tasha. Thanks ladies for helping me figure out what I wanted to say and how to say it!

I hope this essay resonates with readers and helps someone in some small way.

"I don’t want to be alone but right now that’s my reality. Even though I’m uncertain about my future, I’ve learned to put my trust in hope rather than fear. My life is not the way I pictured it. I’ve had heartaches, successes, and adventures I would have never imagined. And even though I’m afraid of ending up alone, I know the fear won’t last forever. There’s a light at the end of the tunnel—I’m sure—it’s just further away and a different hue than I always expected." - Clarissa Fidler

Wednesday Wisdom: Settling

via The Everygirl

Last night in the middle of my WERQ dance fitness class cool down, I started contemplating the idea of "settling". What does it mean to settle? How does the act of settling impact one's life? These were questions that flooded my mind as I struggled to maintain my balance while stretching my quads.

The word settle has a negative connotation. For me, settling means continually choosing to put time, effort, and emotion into something or someone who doesn't fit my needs or goals. Sometimes what we want or think is best for us is actually the exact opposite.

There are a few "almosts" in my life--relationships and opportunities that despite my best efforts didn't come to fruition--that I have mourned. Not having the chance to pursue or experience something you really want is painful and frustrating.

Failure hurts too, but not in the same way. At least you had the opportunity to try. Stolen chances leave a different kind of void. "What if" can be a haunting companion.

As I focused on my breathing and stretched my aching muscles, I experienced a moment of clarity. I realized that if I'd succeeded in obtaining what I had previously deemed as lost opportunities, I would have been settling for a life different than the one my Heavenly Father intends for me.

Even though I may not understand why things I wanted didn't work it, I believe everything happens for a reason. Like Joy Wilson, I'm not the kind of girl who settles. I intend to keep not settling.

#gradlife

I decided to go to grad school for a lot of reasons. To have an adventure. To get away from a boy. To find my passion. To work towards an attainable goal.

In a few months I will have accomplished this great thing--getting my master's degree. I don't feel like I deserve it. I'm hoping that feeling will change once I receive my diploma.

Three years ago I applied to grad school because I thought that if I was really going to pursue writing as a profession, I couldn't get there on my own. I needed more training and more professional contacts. I also needed to feel like I was working towards something instead of being consumed by feelings of uncertainty and fear about the future.

The year between graduating from college and starting grad school is not one I'd care to repeat. My best friend was miles away serving a church mission, a romantic relationship I'd hoped would blossom combusted instead, and I had no idea what I was going to do for a job after my internship. I was alone and completely lost.

In an attempt to figure out my life and what to do next, I found a therapist and spent every Monday for nine months in his office. Slowly and painfully, I found enough courage and clarity to make an important decision about my future.

Grad school was never part of my plan but I'm not surprised I ended up there. I've spent the majority of my life performing well in school. School has always been a safe place and an environment where I feel at ease.

The funny thing is grad school has never felt safe or comfortable. They're have only been a few moments where I've felt really good about the work I produced or loved what I was doing. Every story has required an enormous amount of effort just to finish, let alone finish well. Despite my lack of confidence in my performance, I've had several professors praise my work and encourage me to pursue writing as a full-time career.

I don't regret the decision to go to grad school or move to Chicago, but like most things in life, I'm not where I'd thought I'd be by now. I still have a lot of the same questions about my future that I did three years ago. Plus, I'm in a lot more debt than when I started. I thought I'd find this great passion in grad school but that hasn't been the case. My career path isn't linear and I'm learning to accept that.

I need to figure out what's next, but this time I don't feel the same despair or pressure that I did three years ago. I'm more comfortable not having all the answers. I also feel more prepared and in a better place to tackle some of the personal issues I wasn't ready to face. Even though I still have a lot of questions about who I am and where I'm going, I'm proud of myself for choosing to do something with my life rather than sitting back and waiting for something to happen.

Even though the future is still scary, it's also exciting. What job will I have next? Will I finally start to date? How long will I live in Chicago? Where will I be a year from now?

What will life look after grad school? I don't know and that's finally ok. 

the odds of being alone

"Wouldn't you like to know the odds of being alone? I need answers now cause I am caught off guard. The quiet feels so loud. Tell me this is the hardest part."

- The Odds of Being Alone by Trent Dabbs ft. Amy Stroup

This past week, I've been unable to shake the nagging fear that I might end up alone. Sure it's a thought that occupies my consciousness periodically, but lately it's been at the forefront of my mind. Given some more recent happenings and revelations in my life, I believe this feeling is only natural. I know it will pass and hope will takes its place as it usually does. But right now the fear is very real.

It's not so much that I'm consumed by loneliness, but rather I'm acutely aware that the majority of my time is spent alone. I've grown accustomed to occupying the role of the single girl in almost all of my peer groups straight down to my family. It's not a bad role to fill, but like anything else, it comes with its own challenges. Sometimes being the one who's in a different place gets old. Being strong feels overrated. There's a light at the end of the tunnel I'm sure, it's just further away and a different hue than I always assumed.

It's baffling how one piece of information linked to a long unanswered question can completely transform your reality. How that knowledge can destroy hope you didn't fully realize you were harboring. Everything really can change in a instance. Suddenly, you can stop putting pressure on the wound. There isn't any blood left to bleed. Whether you like it or not, you're free. But freedom is a two-edged sword. Suddenly the lines you've drawn are crossed and life is altered forever. You'll live through it--of that you're sure--but for now, it takes a lot to live.

I know the fear won't last forever. My odds of being alone are slim. So I'll wage the war and fight to reclaim the hope I know is near.

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You Don't Know Me Yet - Part 1

 

True confession: About a month ago, I made profiles on ldssingles.com, ldsmingle.com, and match.com. I'd considered trying online dating for awhile and decided to finally give it a go. Well, after precisely one week and without interacting with anyone, I freaked out and promptly deactivated my accounts. Dating--I don't how to do that! Plus, how do you portray yourself in a way that is both appealing and honest? What information do I even put on a dating profile?

Now that a little bit of time has passed since my first failed attempt, I've been reconsidering trying online dating again--for real this time. I don't know where to start and I'm still not sure if it's something I really want to do. However, I do know that writing helps me sort my feelings out. So here it goes, part one of what I would want a potential dating prospect to know about me if there weren't any rules or acceptable word lengths...

***

You don't know me yet, but if you were to take the time here is a little bit of what you'd find out:

I love my family. We tell each other more than we probably should sometimes but that's because we love and trust each other. I have good, strong relationships with both of my parents and FaceTime with my mom almost every day even if it's just for a few minutes. I also have great relationships with my two younger siblings. My brother is gay and is married to a wonderful man. My sister is also married and in the process of helping her sweet husband immigrate from Egypt to the United States. My parents were high school sweethearts and have been married for nearly 28 years. We're not a cookie-cutter, perfect Mormon family but our love runs deep.

I'm fairly simple when it comes to having a good time. My idea of a fun night out is perusing the aisles of Target before catching the premiere of The Hunger Games armed with a generous bag of sour patch kids. I love trying new restaurants, going to museums, camping, and shopping. Give me a TJ Maxx and I'm happy. The best part of shopping is finding a killer deal. I learned how to bargain shop from my thrifty mom. I enjoy baking over cooking, although I think I do both fairly well.

Reading and writing are both big parts of my life although I always feel like I could and should be doing more of both. My mind is stimulated when I read publications like the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and Time magazine. Knowing that I'm a good writer is one of the only things in life I've ever been completely sure of--and that I can sing. I've never had any true formal training but I know I have a good voice and enjoy singing. I grew up on country music but have an appreciation for many genres.

I played softball all growing up but I don't consider myself super athletic, although I do enjoy being active. I'm up for a 5K or bike ride along the lake anytime. Now volleyball or basketball, you might have to twist my arm a bit (I'm not very good at either). I'd really like to learn how to play tennis and I've never been golfing before but would like to try it one of these days. 

I confess I don't really understand or have much experience with how dating works. However, like my kindred spirit Ted Mosbey says in the first episode of How I Met Your Mother, if you were to bear with me through the dating part, I think I would make a damn good wife and a wonderful mother because that's the kind of stuff I'd be good at. At my very core those are the only two things I really want to be. Everything else is a bonus.

Interested in getting to know me? Stay tuned for part two.

(And At Christmas You Tell the Truth)

The truth is I gave my heart away some time ago. Years have passed and I'm still trying to put all the pieces back together. My wounds have healed but some unanswered questions remain. Maybe they always will. Among other things, I've learned that sometimes you have to live without your ideal form of closure.

Reflecting on the past in an attempt to understand the present and move forward towards the future, I often wonder: What emotions or memories has time blurred? How much of what I remember or think about is based in reality? I know that at 22 I was as hopeful and foolish as a Taylor Swift love song. Desperate to make sense of impending post-college life and feeling completely alone, I clutched at everything I thought would bring me closer to the picture I had in my mind of what my life was supposed to look like. That approach didn't work very well. Happily, I've survived and become a better person for it.

For awhile I was so hurt and confused I didn't know how to get my heart back. To be honest, I don't think I really wanted it back. It was mine to give and I wanted nothing more than to start a life with someone I loved by my side. The dream had become tangible for the first time and yet, it still eluded my grasp.

Last Christmas my little sister got married. This summer my three closest college roommates, including my best friend, said "I do". My brother also tied the knot. Here in Chicago the majority of my friends and coworkers are either married or in serious relationships. It's no exaggeration that I'm often the only "single" person.

Maturity and time have provided me with much needed insight and perspective. I'm surrounded by couples and I can truthfully say I'm genuinely happy for them. Do I wish I had the relationship portion of my life figured out already? Absolutely. Do I want to be married and have a family? More than anything. Am I learning to embrace who I am and the life I'm living? Every day.

The truth is I'm still trying to figure myself and love out. That's ok. Love is actually all around.

Flying

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Humanity is on display at an airport. Tearful goodbyes. Joyous reunions. Nervous explorers. Whatever emotion or scenario you're looking for, you can find it between arrivals and departures.

There's something about the airport and flying that put me in a hyper-reflective state. Maybe it's the long train ride on the L or anticipation for the impending trip. Whatever the reason, I usually become emotional and suddenly develop a strong urge to write.

I think about my relationships with individual people in my life and where they're headed--literally and figuratively. My melancholy mind becomes misty as I recall prior journeys with fondness. Senses are heightened and my memory enhanced.

When I'm up in the air, thousands of feet above ground, life is temporarily suspended. No phone calls can be made or texts sent. My wifi doesn't connect unless I fork over eight dollars. It is a period where I am truly alone with only music or reading materials to keep me company. Inevitably, my thoughts usually take over.

Flying is a chance to get away from the world.

diet coke insomnia

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I really should be sleeping but I have a lot on my mind and I think I drank a little too much diet coke close to bedtime.

Do you ever just feel like a total fraud? Like you're not even good at liking the things you like? Take reading for example. I love to read---books, magazines, newspapers etc. I'm a journalism grad student who doesn't read enough. I get the Wall Street Journal but admit I don't always make it past the headlines and front page. Time magazine comes in my mailbox every week but I don't always get around to reading it. I haven't read a novel in months.

Reading is just one, albeit very small, area I'm feeling inadequate in right now. Bigger ticket items include working out, eating healthy, my spirituality, and managing my finances. The list goes on.

My favorite journalism professor keeps encouraging and urging me to get my pieces published. What good is my work if no one ever sees it? You need clips to have credibility. Working full-time pulls my attention away from being a grad student. Combine that with the fact that my career goals don't necessarily match my journalism studies and the struggle to put forth the extra effort to get my pieces out there increases.

Time is such a precious commodity and yet it is so easy to waste. It's so much easier to consume episode upon episode of Friends in the background and pin things on Pinterest. Those activities require small ounces of engagement in the big picture. The big picture can be a lot to choke down every day.

So how do you balance goals, leisure time, and responsibilities? I don't think there is a solid answer but rather approaches and methods to try out. There are definitely times when I'm better at managing life than others.

Maybe the curse of living during this time is the constant competition for our attention. I keep thinking if I just had one day where I could get organized and find my center then I could change my everyday less than desirable habits. I think I may be wishing for a "day" that doesn't exist. Tomorrow always comes whether I'm ready or not.

Right now I just feel tired and inadequate. Where's the flipping reset button? It's a really, really good thing my mom is coming to visit in a few weeks because I need a hug. Like right now.

Learning About the Finer Things in Life

My Nana - Karen Elizabeth Christensen

Nordstrom. Starbucks. Clinique. Traveling. Dining out. Going to the theater. Fancy dresses. Broadway musicals. Christmas decorations. Fredrick & Nelson. Frangos. Baskin Robins. 4th of July fireworks. Downtown Seattle. Tea at The Empress. Butchart Gardens.

All of these things remind me of my Nana.

Today is my maternal grandmother's birthday. She would have been 71. My Nana suffered a stroke in November 2011 and passed away in her sleep from heart failure in December 2012.

When I was seven-years-old, Nana took me on a 10-day trip to Washington D.C. For a girl enamored by history, it might as well been Disneyland. In later years we traveled the Oregon Trail, visited San Francisco for a weekend, and enjoyed the splendor of New York City at Thanksgiving. When I was 16 she took my entire family to Disneyland for the first time. Best family vacation--hands down.

Growing up in Everett, WA, Canada was only a few hours away. My family and I spent many happy vacations and weekend trips in Vancouver and Victoria with Nana. For my 12th birthday we got dressed up--complete with hats and gloves--and had high tea at the magnificent Empress hotel.

It's because of Nana that I've been places and seen things I might not have otherwise seen.

No regular outing with Nana was complete with out a visit to Starbucks. My siblings and I would order our favorite butterhorns and hot chocolate. Nana would always get a venti unsweetened iced tea and then proceed to load it with several packets of sugar. We'd pile into her Blazer and head-off to run errands (she was always running errands), go shopping, or simply enjoy the drive.

Nana showed us her love by giving us experiences. She taught us to ask for the things we deserved and not be ashamed to walk into a department store like Nordstrom. She also taught me to take pride in being a woman. Nana knew how to take care of herself. I used to love watching her put on her makeup and spray her fabulous salt and pepper hair with hairspray. My mom and I both wear Clinique because of her. 

My Nana lived an interesting and somewhat selfish life. As I've gotten older I've realized she did the best she knew how. She was sexually abused as a child and as an adult, struggled with alcoholism. She was married several times, had a few affairs, and wasn't the greatest mother. Eventually, she got sober and made her career as a drug and alcohol counselor and consultant. She paved the way for addiction recovery in the State of Washington and died with over 30 years of sobriety.

While my Nana was a wonderful grandmother to my siblings and I growing up, the last five years or so that she was alive, her relationship with my family was tumultuous and volatile. When she died we were not on the best of terms, which made her passing that much more difficult. However, time does help to heal wounds.

When I think of her now I try to focus on all of the good memories and time we spent together, rather than the not-so-distant heartache and anger.

I wish I could tell Nana about my adventures here in Chicago. I know she would be proud of the woman I am becoming. There are moments of stillness when I look around and realize she's a part of me. That some of who I am and where I am in my life is because of her. I especially feel that way when I'm traipsing around downtown Chicago or dining out with a close friend at a new restaurant.

Nana taught me about the finer things in life and for that I will be forever grateful. I love you, Nana. Happy Birthday.

At Nana's Memorial Service - January 2013

True Confession: Flaws

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Flaws. I'm not talking about liking cashews or not wearing sock with sneakers. I mean those ugly parts of our personalities we'd like to think we don't have but do. Think you're perfect? Look again my friend. We are all flawed.

True confession: I'm a bailer. Too often in social situations I decide not to go at the last minute. I've committed and told people I will be there but when it comes time to actually show up my social anxiety gets the better of me and I can't pull the trigger.

Case in point. This weekend we had a regional conference/outing for the single adults in my church. On a normal week my anxiety would be a hill I have to climb, but a particularly rough week turned that hill into a mountain. Now that's not to say I couldn't have strapped on my boots and conquered the beastly mountain. There are times when I have, but this wasn't one of them.

Activities were stretched over Saturday and Sunday. Saturday I didn't go to anything but at least I had Sunday where I could redeem myself somewhat. I agreed to help out with the food committee on Sunday in hopes that having an obligation would make it easier for me to get my butt out of bed. My sweet friend even reached out to make sure I had a ride.

I don't like the fact that I'm a bailer. I don't want that label or reputation. It's rude to others and doesn't serve me well. I guess the first step in remedying a flaw is acknowledging you have one. You can't change what you don't know. Just like I seek others' forgiveness, I have to forgive myself.

On the bright side, I have times where I conquer my anxiety and show up and those times usually turn out pretty well. The goal is to win more battles than I lose. That's what I'm working on.

This weekend's verdict: Social Anxiety - 1; Clarissa - 0. Battle on!

True Confession

 

I'm not exactly sure when it started but for the longest time my best friend and I have had "true confession" moments. We have a very open and honest friendship, but if either one of us starts a conversation with "true confession..." you know whatever the other one says is going to be extra juicy and revealing. It's our own little signal of sorts--prepare yourself girlfriend.

A few months ago my best friend Sarah got engaged. We live over 1,000 miles apart so I met her fiance for the first time only a few weeks ago when I was in town for two of our college roommates' weddings. 

True confession: For a brief period during my visit and a little bit afterward, I was angry at my best friend for being engaged.

I was thrilled to finally meet her fiance but quickly became annoyed by the new dynamics their engagement created. I found myself disappointed that we didn't get to spend more time together one-on-one during my visit. I didn't want to share her with him. In college none of us dated anyone seriously so we never had to balance time between friends and boyfriends. I kept thinking: I've been around longer than you, pal! (Sorry Roberto...I still love you!)  

I lost my perspective and made the situation more about my "loss" rather than focusing on the true joy I feel about Sarah's happiness. Upon returning home to Chicago, I spent some time reflecting on my feelings. I realized that my tendency toward anger and resentment were both normal reactions, but they were also toxic. I acknowledged what I felt, worked through it and decided to move on.

I'm grateful for the maturity that comes with age and experience. Had I been in this same scenario as a 21-year-old I don't think I would have been able to gain perspective so quickly, if at all. Sarah is a dear friend. She knows everything about me and loves me unconditionally, true confessions and all. I couldn't ask for more. I'm beyond excited to be a bridesmaid next week and to see her marry the incredible man who's won her heart.

Happy Birthday Broham!

This picture is 20 years old, which means my little brother and I are in our 20s. How did that happen?

Today Spencer turns 23. In less than two months he'll be marrying his wonderful fiance, Ian. Just last week, after loosing our beloved Kootchi, Spencer and Ian adopted a smooth fox terrier named Aston. They're thrilled and exhausted. A puppy is definitely good baby prep.

I'm so proud of my brother--who he is and what he has accomplished. Spencer has always had a tender, enormous heart. He gives everything to the people he loves and never hesitates to help a stranger in need. When he was only 14, he courageously came out that he was gay. It hasn't been any easy road but he's always remained true to himself and recognized his individual worth. I admire his strength and tenacity.

Life has brought Spencer other trials that he's faced with resilient, positive determination. When he was a teenager, I used to worry about him and his future. I don't anymore. He has matured, and continues to mature, beautifully. We're adults now facing adult-size joys, triumphs, and heartaches.

I'm grateful that I've been blessed with such a wonderful brother. The world would be a better place if everyone had a brother like mine.

I love you Broham! Happy Birthday!

Losing Kootchi

 

"It's not supposed to go like that. It's not intended to end that way." The lyrics of a Rascal Flatts song kept echoing through my head. Kootchi is only six-years-old. She's supposed to be with our family for another 10 years. I'm not ready to say goodbye. I wish Spencer was here. It's not fair that he doesn't get to see his dog one last time.

Last Thursday my family said goodbye to Kootchi, our sweet smooth fox terrier. A back injury a month earlier had stolen the function of her back legs, painful soars had developed on her hind quarters, and a lump on her abdomen was suspected to be cancerous. Our little girl went from healthy to decrepit in a matter of weeks. We weren't ready to let her go but seeing her in pain with no quality of life was too much to bear. She was already gone.

Kootchi came into our lives when my younger brother Spencer adopted her from his friend Lydia in Salt Lake City over three years ago. A series of events led her to live with my parents for a short time and once Spencer was ready to have her again, my parents couldn't give her back. His princess was now their princess too. I bonded with Kootchi the summer I lived at home before I moved out to Chicago. Like everyone else, I fell instantly in love with her.

I've said many times that I wished we could clone Kootchi. Her disposition, sturdy yet small frame, and playful personality were everything you could ever want in a dog. She charmed everyone she met. We affectionately called her Smootchala and Smootchi thanks to her constant need to kiss your face. The neighborhood kids even made up a song. 

 

Saying goodbye to a beloved pet is never easy, especially when they're taken long before their time. We are all devastated. Because I was in town for two college friends' weddings, I was fortunate enough to see Kootchi one last time and be with my family when we took her to the vet to be put down. I pulled Spencer up on FaceTime so he could say goodbye. Oh the wonders of modern technology.

Despite the pain of losing Kootchi too soon, I am grateful she was a part of our family. She was a bright spot in the struggles that have beset us over the past several years. Kootchi and Brinkley were inseparable pals. Every time he comes inside he goes from room to room looking for his buddy. Seeing the sadness in his eyes starts the tears flowing all over again. You can't explain what happened to a dog, but I think he knows. 

a good day in chicago

April showers have given way to rising May temperatures here in the Windy City. Blossoms are everywhere. Yesterday the temperature was perfect. The essence of spring lifted my spirits. It was a good day.

Running along Lake Michigan the fresh air took my breath away. I felt alive and free. Chicago truly is a gorgeous city. Yesterday, instead of feeling alone and insignificant, I felt a part of something bigger.

Later in the evening I visited my friends Brooke and Elise. We hung out on their rooftop in the heart of downtown. Gazing east towards Millennium Park I felt the urge to swing from building to building like Spider Man. Twenty-three floors up the surrounding architecture took on a unique, tangible sensibility.

I'm grateful for days like yesterday that offer relief from the day-to-day stress of life. A brief escape and sense of satisfaction. Peace. 

I've Got the Love

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Despite the fact that I've never really had a Valentine, I happen to love Valentine's Day. Hearts galore. Candy. Yummy sweets. Pretty cards. Everything the color pink. What's not to love?

Seeing men carry flowers home to the ones they love makes me smile. Passing crowded restaurants on my way home makes my heart swell.

I'll always remember walking to the bus last year on Valentine's Day morning and seeing a dad and his son putting the finishing touches on his Valentine's before heading off to school. Such a precious sight.

I've never been a V-Day hater. February 14th isn't a day I loath or despise. No pity parties for me--I save those for other random, non-special days throughout the year.

Some people say we shouldn't need a specific day to prompt us to show someone our love. They hate the commercialism and unrealistic expectations the day seems to bring. They have a point but I subscribe to thinking why is it a bad thing to have a day set aside to do a little something extra?

Nothing extravagant is required to show true love. I may not have romantic love right now but I have family and friends I love deeply. I try to embrace any opportunity I have to show them how much I care.

Bring it on St. Valentine.

Prayer Works. Miracles Happen.

Layoffs. Downsizing. Restructuring. February 2012 President Obama wasn't necessarily winning favor in the economy department. PEMCO Insurance didn't escape the trends.

My dad wasn't supposed to take that long walk down the hall to an empty chair and have his fate turned upside down. He's a survivor. An innovator. Best man in his division. Fifteen years of dedicated customer service and leadership.

Sure I'm his daughter which means my view is biased, right? Well I'm also a working professional and analytical thinker. I don't exaggerate. You don't layoff Mr. PEMCO.

Eight more days and it would have been exactly one year since Mr. PEMCO got the dreaded call. Enterprise Services was no longer unscathed. The victim: my dad.

For the past eight years my dad threw a paper route every morning to make ends meet. Forget the cute boy on the bike chucking papers onto porches. 3:00 am every morning. 200+ papers. Snow storm. Torrential downpour. Nothing stops the paper.

No man takes his role as a provider more seriously than my dad.

Hours of networking, resume tweaking, and phone interviews. No job prospects. My parents couldn't afford to stay in our home. The backup plan became reality.

They decided to move to Utah and live in my auntie's basement apartment. Start over. It was a hard decision but they knew it was right. Peace amidst uncertainty is possible.

December 18th my dad should have had an interview at CHG Healthcare, number three on Fortune's list of 100 best companies to work for. A Christmas miracle.

The day after my grandma died the interview was canceled. CHG had reached their hiring quota for the year. Call back after the first of the year.

January 2013 comes and Patty, the fantastic CHG recruiter my dad worked with, is no longer with the company. Multiple phone calls and mixed correspondence later, a new recruiter sends my dad a generic rejection email. He's crushed.

This morning Patty connected with my dad via LinkedIn. She called him five minutes later. Could he come in for an interview at 2pm? Yes. Less than five hours later my dad got the call we've waited almost a year for.

A simple text: "I got the job!". I burst into tears of joy. I forgot what it's like to have good things happen for my family. The last year has been rough.

Hope can be restored. It's true--Heavenly Father doesn't give us more than we can handle. Most of the time we just don't know our limits. I think that's part of the plan.

February 18th my dad will start his new job as an account manager at England Logistics.  

Prayer works. Miracles happen. Life really can change in just one day.

I feel pretty

Today I decided to feel pretty. I know that sounds strange but it's true. It's been awhile since I've truly felt like I look nice or have enough energy to put all my makeup on plus a nice outfit.

My sweet aunt gave me the iconic polka dot sweater from J.Crew for Christmas. Dream come true. Until today it has sat unworn, neatly folded in its plastic wrapper inside my closet.

My aunt has asked me several times since returning home from Christmas, "So have you worn your sweater yet?" Each time I have replied "no" that I was saving it for a day when I felt put together and confident. I didn't want to waste a special sweater that has to be dry cleaned on a blah, regular day.

Well, Christmas was over a month ago. The blissful day of beauty and confidence I've been waiting for had yet to materialize. So I decided that today--a Monday no less---was the day. Time to put on my fantastic, prized possession and wear it with pride.

Sometimes you have to choose your emotion rather than succumb to reality. You can choose to feel beautiful in your own eyes even if your head tells you otherwise.

What helps you feel pretty? How do you improve your self-worth?