Stop. Listen. Do.

Age is but a number. Ever hear that one? Ever notice it's usually in defense of a young person who has the hots for someone far older than themselves? That's not why I'm using it...I was just thinking about how that's often the context in which we hear it in. Not tonight.

Age is but a number. I'm 22 years old. I still have most of my life ahead of me and oh so many memories still yet to make. But today I don't feel 22. Today I feel like I am at least 100, possibly 110. I just feel old, and tired.

I've told my friends and I'll say it here. I've always believed that I am an old soul in a young body. I don't really play well with people my age. I prefer to read, crochet, attempt knitting, cook, paint and spend time outdoors. I DON'T like rap, excessive drinking, drama, pop music (most days..some days I'm into it), those funny stupid movies like Anchorman, overtly dirty jokes...pants. I really really hate pants. I walk around most days a grumpy, easily offended little old lady. At least on the inside, that's me. I'm pretty good at throwing on a smile and making everyone believe that I enjoy being out in public. (Not to say that I don't have a handful of friends whose company I thoroughly enjoy.) Let's be honest. I cause problems out in public. I get hit on by...well everyone and I never know how to handle it so I just play along stupidly thinking it will make them go away. I do this every time. There is something wrong with me and it makes roommate worry.

On the other hand. I'm also happy a lot. I love little kids, anything sparkly, sappy romance-y stuff (unless it happens in real life, then I gag), etc. I am 110% a contradiction. I make no sense.

Oh wow. I got side tracked. Whoop. Sorry.

Right. I feel old today. I'm just...done. I dunno. Maybe I feel old and tired because I don't belong in this time period. My moral code, my music taste, my hobbies, they are all more suited to a young woman in the 1930-40s than 2013. I'm just not a current girl. I think that spending time with family, or watching a sunset with your own eyes is more important than a status update, or an instagram picture or a tweet. I don't think that today's music is good. I think it sucks. Who cares that some guy is running around buying your grandpa's clothes from the thrift shop? Ok Wait. Pause. Why is that even a song? Seriously. Who cares? I don't get it. Can't we focus on more important things than the next Bachelor or Bachelorette? Can't we use our amazing ability to reach hundreds of thousands of people on the internet via social networking websites to say something a little more intriguing/thought provoking/smart than what we had for lunch, or what silly little thing just happened to us? Don't get me wrong, I get caught up in this trap to sometimes. But I guess what I'm saying is..I think it's high time we started focusing our energy on something a little more substantial. Something a little more gutsy, something a little more "we are the future". Something we can be proud of.

That being said. It's Lent. The period in the Catholic calendar right before Easter. During this time, according to the Bible, Jesus went out into the desert for 40 days and nights, and fasted and prayed before he was publicly executed. During Lent, we are supposed to give something up in our own little fast. Unfortunately, most people just give up something random for the 40 days and don't really think anything of it. That's not the point of Lent. Lent is about making a sacrifice. It's about making a sacrifice and then praying about it. It's not supposed to be easy. It's supposed to be hard. It's supposed to be challenging. It's supposed to make us think about the sacrifice that Jesus made for us so that we could live. For Lent this year. I'm giving up the mindlessness. I'm giving up getting involved in the next flash in the pan. I'm giving up all that junk that clutters my mind. I'm going to make an effort to read the Bible more. I'm going to make an effort to be more social, to be more informed, to make myself useful. To not just being another human being who just puttered on through life. I want to stand out.

What about you??

The Scent of Memory

The crinkle of the plastic wrapper, the slightly cinnamon-y scent of the cracker, and the feel of cardboard in my hands. These three things are so familiar to me that for a bit I am transported back several years. All of a sudden I'm 7 or 8 years old again, sitting in my grandparent's house, eating grahm crackers and drinking milk while we watch The Price is Right. I relish in this, because I know that the next time we sit at this table it will be lunch time, and they will make me a peanut butter and jelly sandwhich and change the channel to Barney even though I outgrew it about 5 years ago, even though I tell them that Barney is for babies every time.

Baby Girl (the little girl I watch Tuesday mornings) decides that I've been standing still, lost in thought far too long and she really wants that graham cracker in my hand. So, with a very loud "Augh!" she launches her spoon at me from her high chair as if to say "Hey! What's taking you so long?!" Shaking my head I feel the memories slip away as I bring myself back to the present, and calmly and sweetly remind Baby Girl "oh no yelling honey, say please. Can you say please?". She responds with repeating the "puh" sound for the next 5 minutes intermittent with the smacking of her little gums and teeth as she munches on her "na" as she calls it.

Later, when Baby Girl is taking her nap, I find myself thinking once again about my grandparents. All four of them. All gone now. I realize that I don't think of them often. I remember back to the last time I had all four of them in my life, I was 8. It's been so long that it seems they have slipped away, yet every once and awhile, like today they come rushing back. Whenever I smell graham crackers, or everytime I see a crow (long story, but one of my grandfather's used to make crow noises...) or whenever I play cribbage with my father. Little memories that seem far away, like they belong to another lifetime. Little memories that come crawling back, memories triggered by a specific sight, touch, smell or sound. Memories that remind me that I carry those I have lost with me always. They are always there just past my reach, never quite in focus, but always there when I need them.

Today, this post is just to remember those I have lost. Family and friend. Those who have left this earth and are now living peacefully and joyfully with God. I miss you all and I love you more than words can say.

Rest in Peace

Dorothy Boucher
Antoine Boucher
Natalie Cote
Robert Cote
Bobby Cote
David Cahill Sr.
Skip Cote
Uncle Bud
Aunt Rosemund
Lisa
Aunt Shirley Wrubel
Jane


Don't forget to remember those who have left this walk of life. They lived joyfully, and while there is a time to mourn, there is also a time to remember all the wonderful memories they have left us with. All the joyful times that they brought smiles to our lips and to our hearts.

The Internet is Scary

Roommate (my roommate from college who I still call roommate so I can pretend we still live together) and I were online shopping via Skype today. You know. Looking at beautiful dresses on websites we can't afford and sighing over it all.

modcloth.com

lulus.com

lilyboutique.com

These are fantastical websites that have beautiful dresses, and I would be very happy if they just appeared in my closet someday. Like this beauty.

http://www.modcloth.com/shop/dresses/storied-romance-dress

Anyway...I found some other "beauties" on modcloth.com and I use the term beauties VERY loosely.

Here are some of the highlights. Enjoy.

 http://www.modcloth.com/shop/dresses/safari-supper-dress
Just in case you need to look sexy while on a safari.

http://www.modcloth.com/shop/dresses/leaves-of-class-dress
You wear your Grandma's clothes. You don't look incredible.

http://www.modcloth.com/shop/dresses/don-t-skip-dessert-dress
Or. Skip dessert and you won't have to wear this dress.

http://www.modcloth.com/shop/dresses/great-lake-shimmers-dress
Forgot your portable disco ball? No worries. Just wear this.

http://www.modcloth.com/shop/dresses/flare-and-square-dress
The 70s called. They want this dress back.

And lastly, but definitely NOT least

http://www.modcloth.com/shop/dresses/steppe-it-up-dress
So you can blend in, just in case you are being chased by an axe murderer at the zoo.

Seriously. There are some very misguided dressmakers out there.

Well I hope this was as much entertainment for you on a very very snowy evening as it was for me.

Goodnight, and please NEVER buy any of these dresses. I will hunt you down and take away your credit cards. For real.

Keep On Keeping On

"Keep On Keeping On. Keep On Keeping On. Keep On Keeping On."

This became my mantra said in time with the rhythm of my feet as I ran 6 avenues attempting to reach 34th Street between 10th and 11th Avenue before 6:40am.

What? You don't enjoy a brisk jog with a 25 lb backpack through New York City at 6am? Why the hell not?!

For the record. I don't enjoy this either. In the past 48 hours I have spent over 12 of them on public transportation, and I am so tired I could fall asleep sitting up right now. I have gotten maybe 10 hours of sleep total in the past two days and I am not to be trifled with right now for I would probably bite your head off. Just saying.

I had an audition in NYC for Pilobolus. If you don't know who they are, look them up. They are fantastic. Oh...I never said. By the way. I"m a dancer. I went to college for Dance and am currently attempting to get my Master's in Dance Therapy. Whoop. I forgot that I never quite got around to saying much about myself in that fail of an introductory post. Ha.

So basically Tuesday morning I woke up at 3:30am, caught a train to Boston at 4:45am, and took a bus from Boston to NYC at 7am. This put me in New York at 12pm. Whereupon I met up briefly with friends and then headed over to said audition. I was cut after round 1, which is ok. I'm tough, I can handle rejection, and I had so much fun just dancing that it didn't really matter to me.

I then spend several hours wandering Times Square waiting for one of my very close friends to get out of work. Of course I shouldn't be allowed to wander anywhere by myself, as I was promptly hit on by a black man in a monster suit who wanted to make "an Obama" with me. I swear the weirdest people find me. There is actually even some debate about whether I should be let out of my house at all considering the track record of ridiculous things that have happened to me.

Then this morning I woke up at 5am, and then proceded to sprint down 6 avenues to make my bus home in time. I made it, and then spend the next 7 or so hours in transit so I could get to work on time. The whole time muttering/thinking I just have to keep on keeping on.

Because isn't that the truth? We all have dreams.Me?  I want to be a professional dancer. I want to be a dance therapist. I'm sure you all have that one special dream too. And of course, we all strive to reach them, but sometimes we fall a little short. But do we give up? Well some people do. But not me. Someday, I will reach my goals. It may not be in the exact capacity that I imagine them, but it will be wonderful and it will all finally work out timing wise. So until then, what will I be doing?

Oh you know, I'm just going to keep on keeping on. ;)