Happenings

Just a few things I've stumbled upon that might brighten your day; or help you to hate your life less. Enjoy. (Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to these video/image (s) ).

Change of scenery

http://megansweeney.wordpress.com/

It is not length of life, but depth of life

I see the way Adam looks at Mara, and the way he speaks highly of her when she's not around; that's not us. Standing at the airport I see couples all around me in love, I mean visibly in love; that's not us either. Sitting across the table from you on the verge of tears because what my heart and head are telling me are two different things: you text everyone else, write about everyone else, try for anything else but me; that's us. Staring at the windshield with nothing left to talk about, where once endless words and thoughts flowed now only bitter resentment remains; and as you turn the volume knob up, our chances of survival go down.

We All Wanna Know How It Ends

Getting to the hospital Friday was everything but conveniant. We show up to the spot where we parked the car (as i'm telling Jody and Alyssa about how my car was towed and the worst feelings is just this) and the car is gone, get a roommate on the phone who so kindly peels back her eyelids for the morning light to guide her as she approaches her car to do us all a favor and get Biss to that hospital.

As Jody and I experience the least of human kindness be handed unto us from a cold person name Brian who happens to be a General Manager of an apartment complex, so for all of you assholes out there; there's hope for a well paved future, he so kindly sits like a robot while we tell him our situation and how we need to get to the hospital but our car has been towed to a lot that is too far to walk but too close to reasonably pay a cab, he doesn't care, there is an echo in the room everytime he blinks those beady little eyes and there's nothing inside of me thats stopping me from jumping across the table to smack that stupid smirk off his face.

I notice a wedding ring, so for all you self righteous women who marry into money and not love; there's hope for you too. I grip the chair tightly while he listens to Jody and condescendingly makes comments, interrupting her, Jody puts her hand on mine and I feel at ease; I imagine the way Alyssa feels when mom's there to comfort her in just a few short hours. Upon leaving the room, with about as much help as we had walking in, I couldn't help but verbally guide this boy to be a better person with the kind words of "I realize you have a stick in your ass, but maybe we could pull it out, put a visitor parking sign on it and stake it into the ground, then we wouldn't be in this predicament." I doubt my words had any lasting effect, but it made Jody laugh and me not cringe at the situation as much.

Calling an old friend, whom I know is not a fan from my recent decision making skills, I had to set a lot of pride aside as I'm sure he did as well, asking if he could drive us to the hospital, he kindly informed me "I would do anything for that family, be there in 20". I admire this man, always have, and I always will, the woman he chooses to marry someday is going to be the luckiest lady this side of the Atlantic. Riding to the hospital I sit silently in the backseat while Jody fills him in on the recent events and Mankatos unwelcoming kindness; my mind unfolds the events that are about to change and impact plenty of lives in the next hour or so. Walking through the hospital during the daytime is a bit different then at night, most patient's doors are open, nurses are walking around with clipboards and smiles.
Congregating towards Alyssa in the back room where there has just been a service and prayers said for Thanh, she is teary eyed and distraught. Every worst fear she's ever had, every bad dream, every horrible situation will never equate to the reality she is about to endure. I remember her looking me square in the eye and saying "that's it, it's over". I wasn't able to grasp the reality of the statement; but here she is holding out hope for the past week, praying for nothing short of a miracle and all within 2 hours time she had accepted her fate and his.

As quickly as it had happened, with a long week in between inception and conclusion, it was over. I don't remember much about the moment as it was all surreal; I remember holding a trembling body that could barely keep upright, I remember thinking to myself "this isn't real, these things don't happen to good people" I recall the words "no, he's gone".

People say bodies go into fight or flight mode, I don't know which my body did but all I could do was hug the hell out of one of the greatest women I've ever known while she fell a part. It was at this moment I realized how much I love her, there were no words I could say that would alleviate any pain, with every sobbing cry "no" I hugged more and more tightly. Through petty fights, borrowed sports bras, FL vacations, trips to the cabin, countless rolls of tape, endless late night talks, sleepovers, Mulearning, disney sing a longs, baseball games, borrowed items of clothing, midnight snacking, Rora statements, innumerable hours of home videos, and tears from far too much laughing or far too much hurting - you've been there for me to lean on when times are too hard to stand. You have been mine, and thusly I am yours.

Through every uphill battle I'll be your stepping stones, through every stormy night I'll provide shelter, and when sleep becomes too much to bear; I'll snuggle in real close, scratch your back, and tell you a story about a boy and a girl trying to take on the world one kiss at a time...
I Love You Bissa Jules.

Remember Spring Swaps Snow For Leaves

Watching out the window Friday night built up the anticipation rousing inside of me, the Christmas lights made the room smolder while elf played routinely in the background; I sat with a warm cup of tea mesmerized by the size of the flakes beginning to descend. Anyone in the tri state area had been hearing about this 'blizzard' headed our way, I was just craving the truth of that statement. See there are 3 things I love more than life itself during the month of December; Elf, Christmas, and Snow.

Every time I hear snow in the forecast my hopes are sadly let down by a dismal 1 1/2 inches, just enough for the city of Minneapolis to entitle a snow emergency and piss everyone off. This was no let down; there I was watching the snow fall, almost egging Mother Nature on to generate more than one snowy state could handle, she followed through with a vengeance.

When snow falls late at night, an hour where no one’s commuting or planning to do anything special, you can't help but get a little eager inside; studying each flake as it falls towards the ground, telling a fairy-tale while it wisps through the air unknowingly making its way towards a new domicile. While the flakes begin to fall, lightly at first, they start to swirl; not at first sight though, a vision only noticeable under the luminescent glow of a street lamp can you define the dance the ice crystals are beginning to perform in detail, slowly growing in size and multiplying in speed.

I smile inside while gripping my warm cup of tea; I take a sip, glance out into the tundra of the forming blizzard and smile to myself, because it’s at times like these when I feel most at home. I wake up early in the morning after a fresh snowfall and take a walk; I'm not sure if it’s the newly lain snow or the soft crunch beneath my boots, but either one that provokes the emotion from my very being and exudes happiness from my soul within has me feeling at this early hour, that I'm the only person awake and walking around this Earth.
& I've never felt so happy feeling so alone.

Free Your Secrets & Become Who You Are

PostSecret is an ongoing community mail art project, created by Frank Warren, in which people mail their secrets anonymously on a homemade postcard. Select secrets are then posted on the PostSecret website, or used for PostSecret's books or museum exhibits. (postsecret.com)

Every Sunday morning is like a glimmer of Christmas for me. I do my best to obey my alarm, peel back the covers and motivate my body awake, while the very tips of my toes touch the ice cold wood floors my heater suddenly has a hard time sustaining to a decent temperature. Slowly moving about my box of an apartment I shuffle towards the start button on my computer, my hp starts to sound more like a kitten who's purr box is on repeat.

Sitting in front of the glowing screen I skip emails, facebook, and the sunday morning news to go straight to Postsecret. Every Sunday the secrets are updated to a specifically chosen batch that remain the face of Postsecret until the following Sunday, when the excitement of new secrets returns. I have followed PostSecret every sunday religiously for about 3 years now and highly encourage from you the same.         The secrets are meant to be empowering both to the author and to those who read it. The postcards are inspirational to those who read them, have healing powers for those who write them, give hope to people who identify with a stranger's secret, and create an anonymous community of acceptance.

Scrolling through the secrets I often times find myself shocked when I see a secret that I can relate too or have, I am saddened and feel for the secrets that speak of all dark things in life, and am overjoyed when I see ones of triumph and happiness. I like to think of secrets as being in a box, under a bed somewhere that only you can find; we are faced with choices everyday one of which is to take the secrets out of the box and set them free, and become who you're meant to be. The other, to keep that box hidden and tucked away where we know no one can ever find it.

I have mailed countless secrets over the years, some important and others meaningless and innocent. I remember the day vividly; it was snowing out, not that kind of light dusting commuters hope for; but that heavy snowfall that leaves the loud crunching sound between your boots and the snowbank as you cross over it on your journey to campus. I had just returned from the library, fingertips frozen and boots sopping wet; I peel off all layers known to North Face and head towards a warm sweater and my computer screen. Scrolling down, examining each secret closely, I get to the last three and sit in shock to see the very thing I had created almost a year ago. I sat in silence, my heart beating so fast I thought it might fall out of my chest. This particular secret was something I had been holding onto for over a decade of my life, something that has come to haunt me, and something that had become so comfortable as a crutch it was now just as hard to let it go than it had been to keep it. There it was, staring back at me, I began to cry and by cry I mean sob; I felt free for the first time in my life at the age of 20, I was finally free from this white elephant smothering me.

This all comes full circle, I promise - I'm doing a project for one of my classes that involves advertising a social media (um). All content of the project has to be ones own, including the idea and production; I chose post secret, since I can't use any of the secrets posted on their site I would love to utilize you as a tool. So whichever 3 people read my blog, all I'm asking is this: Do you have a secret you want to take out of your box today and set free? I promise the benefit outweighs the risk. It can be the most insignificant thing to something thats been weighing on you heavily - all you have to do is anonymously create a postcard, letter, drawing, etc put a stamp on it and mail it to me: 508 E 15th st Unit 2 Minneapolis MN. It's simple, no limitations, you're allowed to freely express yourself in any way you choose, and once I'm finished with the project (In about 2 weeks) I'll post it here for you to see.

It takes a lot of courage to release the familiar and seemingly secure, to embrace the new. But there is no real security in what is no longer meaningful. There is more security in the adventurous and exciting, for in movement there is life, and in change there is power.

Free Your Secrets & Become Who You Are.

Be The Change You Wish To See In The World.



Toon-ing In

As of recent: Mickey Mouse, Papa Smurf, and any number of Disney princess' have been the popular default picture on most facebook pages, I'm sure most of you know it was a campaign in efforts to raise awareness about 'ending violence against children'. I don't mean to climb onto my sunken and worn in soapbox but I've been struggling with this gesture. I'm in full support of ending violence against children, women, animals, and men for that matter. What I have been having a tough time processing is that everyone has sat back on their computer and with the click of a mouse 'contributed' something; I understand the purpose was to raise awareness, bad news: I don't think it's a big secret.

When I saw everyone changing their pictures it made me think of the NFL and breast cancer: instead of spending millions of dollars on new cleats, gear, and helmets with the pink emblem, more money painting the fields, and even more money stamping it anywhere they can think possible - donate the fucking money! I mean kudos for feeling like you've done something NFL, but realistically if every one of your players donated 1/10 of their salary let alone all the money you spend on breast cancer awareness month, we could find a cure for all cancers and maybe even save the world.

I appreciate the gesture for what it has to offer, and like anything on facebook: it caught on like rapid fire, I personally did not partake. I respect and appreciate a valiant effort towards a good cause, but instead of having people spend their time and energy looking for the perfect cartoon character to portray them; tap into those talents and use them for the very same cause, in a seperate way that could actually benefit ending violence against children.

But how much strength does it really take to come out against child abuse?  Does anyone support child abuse? Even the abusers themselves would probably say they don't. But actually making a difference in the fight, donating time or money, isn't nearly as easy as changing your profile photo. This doesn't go for just this particular cause, it goes for any and all that you care about.

Think about it, while being active - begin to be proactive.
Be well. Ever Evolve. And always do more than just exist.

Take my hand, I'll teach you to dance

My feet are motionless, the movement and urge has all but drained away. I used to cut rugs with these size 9s, I would move to the melody of dripping faucets because it had a beat, and I had a spirit that was free. No liquid courage induced my dancing, no prying, pleading, or prodding necessary. It was me, within me, part of me.

Situations changed, circumstances outweighed strength and integrity; the once simple two step had been turned into an undesireable tango. One that was a constant power struggle between the leader and the follower. There was only one way to stop that dance, someone had to walk away; so I did.

For a while putting one foot in front of the other was difficult again, my once free spirit that would move my body to the beat, was suddenly motionless, consumed by my thoughts and feelings of abhorrence. Minutes, hours, and days seemed to drag by; losing sense of time and reality, I simply went through the steps of familiarity and daily routines. Insomnia became a lifestyle, coffee was my wingman, and the sweet sounds of music didn't move me anymore.


Just as I had confirmed my beliefs, assured my doubts, and thrown all promises I had to the wind; you walked in. You held out your unknowing hand and asked me to dance. My heart started to beat, becoming the tempo to which we began to move. I had given up and thrown in the towel to life, and just as I was letting myself fall, convincing my thoughts that being alone was better than being hurt, you caught me, dusted me off, stood me back up and slowly showed me how to move my feet again.

You came in on the right beat, at the right time, on the right count; to save me from myself.

Five little fingers

I've sat here for hours contemplating the fate of my next decision, one that only I can make and will only ever be understood by me. As these thoughts and reasonings run through my head I hear the soft murmur of the baby waking and the rain beginning to fall harder than a drunk woman in heels. What would normally be a chore for some people my age is something I find joy in, and pride myself upon.
You see my college experience has been interchanged with dirty diapers instead of term papers, teaching little ones to read instead of lecture halls, and playing mom for 3 beautiful children instead of frat parties & social gatherings. Many people look at my decision and say "God, why"; you'll never know nor will you understand. My way isn't right or wrong, nor yours.
Am i better because I pay all my own bills while mommy and daddy foot yours? Do I feel superior that I can solve 7 1/2 disasters, 2 meltdowns, and an empty lunchbox all before 8 am? Not in the least; while you trapse around campus with your ipod on shuffle creating the soundtrack to your life, mine is being created as well to the genre of tempertantrums, crying babies, and the occasional one liner a 4 year old can conjure up from mid air. Our lives may be different but no one's is better than the other.
And so it goes seeing what I left for what I love I look back and then turn to look forward because what I can accomplish just 6 hours into my work day hasn't even had your body stir to wake yet. I feel accomplished, though overwhelmed at times.
Deciding to call it quits is never an easy decision to be made, and especially being in my current position it seems to be one of the harder things I've had to do. While I slowly let the parents down, feelings of shock replace feelings of dependency. See being a nanny means you give your heart, soul, and life to kids that aren't yours, but you love them like they are. Being a nanny means you give all the aforementioned plus 12 hours of your day, 2 car payments, a gas tank that seems to be a bottomless pit, and the usual responsibilities a 22 year old posess's traded in for the responsibility of a 40 something year old woman with 3 children and no sex life.
I can do this, I thought to myself; mustering my strength and peeling back my eyelids from exhaustion every morning with 6 cups of coffee; here I stand corrected. Not in the sense most interpet, "I was wrong", No. I was not wrong, I could do it, I did do it, and I was overworked, underpaid and underappreciated. I drew the line in the sand with a stick not knowing there were riverdancers present and they happened to be standing in the same sandbox.
Now I sit here thinking about the decision I just made, I quit. I'm not a quitter, but I had to walk away for what was going to be next if I was already watching children while vacations were had; being asked to go on family vacations only so I could watch the baby, taking kids (that aren't mine) to doctors appointments, knowing social security numbers by heart, being called mom countless times that I get too disparaged to correct the little mouths. My heart aches for I know the next couple of weeks although will be filled with freedom of not working 60 hours a week, but also with sadness that the 3 beautiful faces I woke up every morning for, will be the ones I have to see when I look at our pictures. I wish it wasn't this way, I wish hard decisions never had to be made, and I wish for just one small second that in a perfect little world everything would work out.

So here it is, the time I have to start letting go, which always seems to be the hardest part when you've been gripping the same five fingers for the past year. The same five fingers that waved at me every morning a 'hello' and in the evening when I left, five little fingers that turned countless pages of storybooks as I read aloud the magic and wonder each book held for these kids, and the five little fingers that wrap around my one thumb as I hold a bottle, rocking the one so small back and forth and just as slowly as I sway, her eyes begin to relax; her body goes soft, and the time between her blinks lapses until she finally falls asleep; the five little fingers have relaxed and don't hold my thumb anymore, tomorrow walking out these doors they will now hold my heart.

Choices Of In Betweens

Speeding down the highway going 95, waiting to see the flashing red and blue lights in my rearview I can't help but distress at the thought of being late to this funeral, an amalgam of emotion flows through my body, anger towards my boss for being 'on time', which for them means whenever they decide to grace their gravel road with a welcoming presence. Sadness at what I'm about to encounter walking into that church and anxiety, for funerals are not my scene, like hospitals they terrify me. Passing people at such an incredible speed only leaves them behind in my mirror looking like little ants; I pull into the church parking lot and nearly fall out of my car. Now any woman that’s worn heels before knows that it's a challenge in and of itself to just walk in them let alone sprint in them, and for those of you who have been so blessed to have to sprint in them, you'll attest that it's a very liberating feeling when the excruciating pain is over and upon reaching your destination you feel like a top secret tri-athlete, checking out your calves in the nearest reflection.

Flying through those double doors, sweating in a dress that’s half my paycheck, out of breath I see the Dahlgrens at the back door, and as Jody turns to tell Dave something she sees me and replies with an "oh good you made it, you're sitting with us." Now most people would find this statement anomalous, seeing as this is my ex-boyfriends parents, but it's not only that. These are my good friend’s family, and a fine looking group of people I've grown to love and respect, I don't even blink at the statement but follow suit and stand in line with them behind Thanh’s family, we begin to start the processional, Alyssa in front of me with the simple request of having her two brothers by her side; makes for a ravishing widow.

Listening closely to a service in a language few of us understand, surrounded by family, part of one I consider my own, the other, Thanh’s; I feel at home. Searching the room for faces, noting on how many people took work, school, and life off to attend; I notice family from halfway across the country and more family from halfway across the world. Folks are dressed in their Sunday best, heels clicking down that aisle like a payless store. Gathering my tear stained tissue I watch Alyssa, valiantly make her way up to the podium to read from the bible in English for all of us; this girl doesn’t know the word no, she only knows strength and perseverance. Even in her darkest hour she is prepared to speak at her loved one’s funeral, and she did just that, marvelously.

Sitting in this pew, fidgeting with my handkerchief, a distraction to the emotion that is welling up inside of me, I quietly take note to what the preacher is saying about life. Funerals are commonly filled with scripture readings, eulogies, affirmations, funny stories, and memories that will never be forgotten by the ones left behind. They are always filled with tears, sorrow, guilt, and wise words to hopefully edify a message. My handkerchief now tattered into diminutive pieces, I tune back into what is being said, "We have no choice....We don't choose when we are born; my mother had us all at night and always says she's never gotten a full night’s sleep since. In the same manner we certainly don't choose when we die....It's not up to us. What we do get to choose is what we do between the two times we have no control over."

We have the benefit to pick alternatives between our establishment of life and our finishing line of that marathon; we breathe, eat and sleep what we deem imperative, because we make those choices. Lingering on that thought I think of all the brilliant and ghastly choices I have made in my life. Here we are at the funeral of a 20 year old who undoubtedly didn't choose this ending, but reflecting on what he chose to do with his life in between those two times is the precise reason there are so many of us here today, letting memories live with us forever.

I look over at a family whom I chose to leave behind because things weren't functioning amid their son and me, in some peculiar sort of full circle realization, I see now that Thanh brought us all back together. There will always be a special place in my heart for the Dahlgren family, and I would do anything for that family. Sitting at the end of the pew, next to Alyssa's parents it’s for the first time I recognize the unfailing love we all have for one another, and no situation or circumstance will keep us from each other, in any time of need, hurt, triumph, joy, or success in life we are present for one another with open arms and open hearts ready for whatever mar the other is about to feel, we burden ourselves with it as well.

There’s something unnerving about watching a 20 year old be lowered into his grave while all his friends and family members toss a memory, a prayer, and a rose into that 6 foot fissure. It makes you reflect about the life you’ve chosen to lead, the opportunities you’ve passed up in hopes of others, examples you’ve left behind for populace to follow, and what your mark truly is here with this brief time on earth. It’s the choices in between that define who we are, all else is out of our control. Nobody at that church wanted this, no one could have ever imagined this, but going forth into the world with a clearer lens, a freshly unpaved path, and a young man’s memory that will live within each of us forever in the back pocket of our Levi’s; it’s about the changes and choices we make today, for some this will be a pivotal point in your life, for others it will drive you to do what you have already made progress towards; only if you choose to though. Keep his legacy in mind for superior opportunity, because when negative energy is channeled properly, there are no limits on what you can achieve. “We cannot change the cards we were dealt, just how we play the hand.”

William Harrington taught us to burn those candles tonight, chase that girl, and wear nice clothes. Don’t save it for that "special occasion", because it's happening right now- you're living it.