The Voice

Following my vacation I have been catching up with my DVR shows. The best one is the Voice. I don't usually like shows like that, but this one is just super fun. And I decided that I really want to be friends with Blake and Adam (their sarcastic banter is awesome!).

As I was catching up with the last 3 episodes, I started to think about talents and passion. These people just know that they are meant to be singers.

I began to wonder if it is specific to singers (musicians) or what. My singer friend (we'll call her songbird) has frequently said the same thing-- she just knows no matter what else life brings her way, that she is meant to be a singer. Songbird had a rough year this past year, but has come out and pursued her dream. I am so proud of her for finding her way and making a career out of her passion.

And there's the friends I have that say they just know they were always meant to be mothers.

This passion and confidence about what they know they are meant to be is envy-worthy to me. It's pretty cool to see someone become exactly what they were meant to- whether it's being a singer, a mom, a teacher, or a technician.

I don't know anything about what I am meant to do. I like what I do, but I don't know that it is a passion. I am confident that it makes me happy (most of the time) but it definately doesn't complete me as a person, like someone whose passion is their job. Something to think about...

Alaska!

Alaska!

(Yes, that was worth the exclamation point after a single word.)

Alsaka was AMAZING!

Until about a week out from the trip, I kept forgetting that I was headed that way. Not because of lack of excitement but rather because of the things I needed to do before the trip began (and also because I am in complete denial that it is June). When I booked the trip, the end of May seemed so far away. But with the help of our incredible friends, Buzz-buzz and I were able to have an incredible vacation.

The Mayor set us up with a house and car to use for the week. When we arrived--not only was it a house, but it was a house on a gorgeous mountain lake. This was the view we enjoyed each morning over coffee (diet cokes) and pastries:

Our daily routine while vacationing was to wake at 4am (realize just because it was light out, it did not mean it was time to wake) and then officially wake up at 8/9am, enjoy cofffee and pastries, and then head out for the day's adventure.

The whole adventure was amazing. Starting with great friends and topped off with once-in-a-lifetime type excursions! I could not have asked for a better experience and can officially say that Juneau is now added to my list of favorite cities. I will definately go back!

Though everything was incredible my highlights were:
- Ziplining through the Alaskan rainforest- 100 feet in the air across streams and trailways
- Float planes
- Glaciers

And there was so much more...
More for another time. :)

250

Why is it that I can write and talk ALL THE TIME about nothing, but when it comes time to write an essay on why I should be accepted into a program, I find myself at a loss for words? I mean if you're reading this blog (even semi-regularly) you know I can go on and on (and on and on) about pretty much nothing. I rant and rave. I celebrate. I vent. I share. And yet...here I am with the cursor blinking at me and I can't figure out what to say.

Maybe it's because I know someone is judging and I want to make sure I find the right words. Or maybe it's because I am a little rusty at this whole school thing. Usually when I find myself without words, I go for a walk and by the time I am back I have it all figured out. Today it did not work, but on the plus side I enjoyed a gorgeous walk along the shore. It was busy because it was finally nice out (even the seals came out!) But I still don't have 250 words....Hmpf! It's 250 words. A short blurb really.

And I think that's the issue---it's too much to say in such a short space. I need to impress them and catch their (whoever they is!) attention because I want this. I am excited about the possibility of being a student again, of growing and learning and stretching my brain in a way I had forgotton. It makes giddy to think about. And that is why I can't find something to say...it's so important.

Wish me well...and think happy acceptance thoughts!

PS- As I laid down to sleep last night, the essay that was brewing just below the surface came up and I completed the app. :)

The dancing garbage man

Today I saw a garbage man dancing as he picked up the trash cans.

Awesome.

If a garbage man can dance while picking up trash, I definately need to start "dancing" while planning some events. My job is NOT dirty. In fact, it's really not super hard.

In the last few weeks, I have been struggling to be motivated and get my work done. Don't get me wrong, I am working but not at my usual speed or pace. My procrastinate defect is making a full appearance. It seems like my new motto, is why do today, what can be done tomorrow? Uncool. And annoying.

It's not like I am procrastinating on work to do something cool or being productive in another aspect of my life. I'm just wasting time. I go in phases like this and usually snap out of it after a few days---not so much this time. It's been a few weeks and going. (In part, I do blame the record-breaking dreary weather.)

But then today, I saw the dancing garbage man.

It made me think of a quote from Martin luther King, Jr that I read as part of my HS graduation speech. (Yes, I know. Slugs don't read speeches at HS graduations. I am actually a very productive human being and usual over-achiever. Hence why this whole low productivity phase is driving me nuts.) So here's that amazing quote:

"We are challenged on every hand to work untiringly to achieve exellence in our lifework. Not all men are called to specialized or professional jobs; even fewer rise to the heights of genius in the arts and sciences; many are called to be laborers in factories, fields, and streets. But no work is insignificant. All labor that uplifts humanity has dignity and importance and should be undertaken with painstaking excellence. If a man is called to be a street sweeper; he should sweep as Michelangelo painted; or Beethoven composed music; or Shakespeare write poetry. He should sweep streets so well that all the host of heaven and earth will pause to say, 'Here lived a great street sweeper who did his job well.'"

Whoa. All these years later and that quote still speaks to me.

Talk about a kick in the pants.

I do believe the dancing garbage man (and Mr. King) have provided just the motivation I needed.

Anyone else feel like dancing?

O, Brother

On this blog, I have often mentioned "favorites". These are the people that I rely on most in my life for laughter, hugs, and general merriment. They are the people I speak to the most or the people that take up just a little more space in my heart than most.

One of the all-time favorites, is my bro (lovingly referred to as Buddy, the Dude, and when we were little Ax).

Since the day he was born, he has been a "favorite"- even if I sometimes didn's show it or tell him. I will admit there was a few years when I really didn't like him (nor him me), but now I count him again as one of my besties. Without fail, every time we talk, we laugh. He is still one of the people that makes me laugh harder than anyone else.

I love our random afternoon chats when he is driving home- sometimes we talk for a long time, other times we are just crabby and cut it short. But I love most that we can be real with one another. If one of us is not in the mood to have a conversation, we just say so--no games, no politeness and no hurt feelings.

He is the one person in life that probably knows all my stories. We have the same shared experiences and took different things from those experiences, but he is the only other person on the planet who knows what it's like to move from St. Cyrils to Durand(and share a bedroom), to Memphis and then back again. We have definately had our moments of dislike, but I am so glad to count him as my friend in my adult life.

Thanks for the friendship, Buddy! Keep the stories coming--they always make my day.

Oh and PS-- thanks for marrying an awesome girl so I can FINALLY have the sister I always wanted! ;) Maybe if she was around sooner you wouldn't have had to play Barbies so much!

Saturday Adventures

In the past few years, I have developed a love for Saturday adventures. They are days when nothing is planned and you meet up with a buddy (or not) and just have a random day of fun. It all started with the HLP. We used to meet up for a mid-day meal and then the day would turn into a mix of errands and always something fun. The real magic of a Saturday Adventure is the total joy of an unplanned day and the fun that is out there to be had.

Well, today was no exception. It was a beautiful day in Seattle (and that is saying a lot with our current weather grossness, just read the news!). I was a little obsessed with the idea of returning to the tulips to see the fields in full bloom. My previous adventure buddy (and co-creator of Saturday adventures) lives far away, so she was not an option. My new adventure buddy was spending time on an island. So I revisited a very old adventure buddy. I figured if she was out then I would just adventure alone (no big deal, but it's always better with a friend. She was in! It was true adventure for her (she had never seen the fields). And others joined us.

We had a perfect Saturday Adventure of late departure, fun & random meal, an activity, and of course an ice cream to top off the day! It was grand.
Here are a few shots from the day, Enjoy!

Cheers to the Saturday Adventure tradition!

King-sized

Have you ever laid in a Kind-sized bed and just felt small?

This week I stayed in a hotel and they actually gave me the kind-sized bed (normally it's two full size-- one for me, one for my stuff!). During my 10 nights in the world of king-sized sleeping, I took on some new sleeping habits--horizontal sleeping, diagnal sleeping (fav!) and any which way I felt.

Last night when I laid down in my own lovely bed, my feelings were not of instant relaxtion and happiness but rather wondering when I got to be so huge. I am not a huge person- 5'2" will never be considered tall, but as people I have shared a bed with can contest I sometimes take up more space than a 5'2" person should take. After a week spent king-sized I feel exceptionally huge sleeping in my lowly full-sized bed. I have been king-sized.

My lowly full-sized bed feels very, very small for me now. I know I will become accustomed to it again, but momentarily I kind of crave that gigantic space again. (Not that I could even fit a king-sized bed into my current bedroom anyway.)