Two

It was raining, hard. A typical winter night in Seattle – cold, wet and dark. My mother, sister and I were waiting on food when my mom’s phone rang. I was confused after she hung up the phone, “something happened.” Time became a blur. I don’t remember the drive, but I do remember speed walking the long and winding hallways of the hospice center feeling like I was in a dream where you’re stuck in a maze. People were outside his room and I remember asking what was going on, they wouldn’t answer. We both knew what the answer was, but it wasn’t their answer to reply. I walked in to the room where he laid motionless and peaceful. He didnt appear to be in any pain.

Much like Jon Snow, I Know Nothing.

I’ve been working on this post for a while. And by working on it I mean I’ve talked out loud to myself in the car and shower alarming those around me… I turned 35 last Saturday and I’ve been quite reflective on my time here on Earth. So here we are folks… 10 points of wisdom words from me.

Romance at the Gym – Still Got It

Saturday was St Patrick’s Day, in case you went so Irish you forgot – no judgement. I chose to make my co-workers some cookies to celebrate the holiday and made Peppermint Chocolate Crackle Cookies. The cookies are chocolate and covered in powdered sugar so in the spirit of my Grandma Rosetta I learned how to dye powdered sugar green. Grandma would dye everything green for the holiday – bread, butter, milk, unopened milk, your mouth… It seemed only fitting. I was, however, ambitous on how many cookies I thought I needed to make and how much powdered sugar I thought it would require. It doesn’t take much powdered sugar to coat a cookie, so I’ve learned. I am currently in possession of probably 1.5 cups of green powdered sugar that I have NO idea what to do with, yet feel compelled to keep it. That is also grandma coming out of me, for the record. I mean, it’s perfectly fine but I never use powdered sugar, so I could afford to toss it, but no. Its in a bag in my pantry. *sigh*

It’s hard to not think of rainbows when you hear St Patrick’s Day, which reminds me of my favorite story from my sister’s childhood. When she was little she saw a rainbow in the sky and told my father she wanted to find the pot of gold at the end so our family could have more money (I know, my sister is the perfect human being). Dad agreed to help and they went hiking around the neighborhood but each time they reached where they thought the end of the rainbow was, it moved. Finally after a couple of hours of this it grew dark so they came back home. My sister told this story at my fathers memorial last year ending, “he taught me in that moment to never give up, to keep pushing, to persevere against the odds.” And then a woman played, ‘Somewhere Over The Rainbow,’ and we all cried (It was in that moment, I realized Stila waterproof eyeliner was a fantastic investment). For my sister’s birthday this year I bought her a locket with a line from the song, safe to say it was a hit.

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This (last) week at the gym: I’m pretty excited and proud of myself, I’m finally going to the gym. For the first time EVER it hasn’t been a struggle to go, I actually don’t mind it. Who knew? Anyways, the other day I noticed one of the personal trainers and thought he was cute. So, I’m minding my own business on the leg press machine when him and I make eye contact. I’m in between sets so I’m taking a moment to breath as this happens. What I haven’t mentioned is the compromised position I’m in on this machine – I’m sitting here with my feet planted on the press so my legs are squished tightly against my chest, more or less a birthing position ready to launch a baby out, but with clothes on, I imagine I’m also flushed in the face and we lock eyes. I’m not good at this whole flirting thing so I try to smile, but he starts to look concerned and starts towards me and that’s when it occurs to me – he thinks I’m stuck. So I start my next set, he stops and goes back to whatever he was doing prior to our awkward, I mean super romantic rendezvous… Maybe next time I’ll try to make direct eye contact on the thigh master. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again, everyone needs a hobby.

Alright, I better sign off before I start rambling.