Some people are just moody souls sometimes and the other night at the opening party my mentor was in a mood. I let it go and did my own thing. My last words to my roommate before nodding off to slumber were, "I hope he doesn't come to my session tomorrow."

The thing is some teeny part of me thought he probably considered it. But truthfully, he doesn't attend keynotes or sessions or any of that so I never expected him to show up. At 8:05, maybe 30 seconds after I started my presentation, he walked through the door. Amazement and panic hit me in the face. I couldn't stop, I had to keep going, but it tripped me up for a few minutes. Eventually I had to not think about him being in the room and my nervous thoughts that I was "on" and was I doing a good enough job? Was I measuring up? It's easier for me to talk for 90 minutes to a group of strangers versus to one person I know. And not just know but respect and admire and whose integrity and business ethic and smarts are what I strive for as well.

Way to make me nervous.

I never looked over his way the entire time. Somehow I got through it and it was near 9:30am and as I was wrapping up he offered some additional insights to our audience. It was over, I was done, I packed up and finally breathed and took in the fact that I just led my first ever professional development session at a regional. I did it. It was tough but I did it and it was rewarding.

I fired off a text message that was - I cannot believe you came. I couldn't even look at you. Way to make me nervous. To which he replied, Sorry. You were great. I wanted to hear it.

I spent the better part of that morning "on" in the booth and decompressing and digesting. I immediately felt like he set out to make me nervous...to crash the session if you will. But slowly, I realized that wasn't the case. Let's just say building confidence as an entrepreneur is tough, even for otherwise independent confident people. I'd been fighting to find myself - both old and new versions of me. I had been realizing since November just how much BS was in my head and how easy it is to get caught up in old patterns of thinking. Thinking that people are out to make me feel nervous, "on" and to be perfect all the time so as to impress and prove myself. Something, I don't know what, got a hold of me and shook me to my senses. It's enough to show up and do what we do. It was enough to show up, in Grand Rapids, be my great self, bring my knowledge, and be part of something bigger. And people come because they care - about me. Isn't that why I go? Even when I know the material? It's for moral support. Finally, I gave myself permission to accept that I was enough and I was worthy of that. That maybe I had shown the gorgeous genius that I am and continue to be.

I circled back with a very sincere thank you...thank you for coming. It was great to have you there. So many compliments on the session, on my knowledge and on "that guy at the end" who had really thoughtful insights. He was there for me. He had my back.

This conference was the final nail in that old thinking's coffin. I realize how much support I have. Real, genuine, I believe in you and have your back, support. It's not always spoken by our colleagues and mentors but it's there. I'm liberated and very blessed.

Sad.  Phil and Whitney have been on repeat lately because they've captured the sadness and brokenness well.  When someone you love suffers, we all feel a part of the pain.  Sometimes life is so unfair.  "Where do broken hearts go?  Can they find their way home?"  God, I hope so.

You'll be fine

Just found myself saying to my cousin the very words I heard the other day..."You know more about yourself at 24/25 than I did...you will be fine...try not to be so hard on yourself."  Because I knew how I was then.  I saw myself in her, in that moment.  Young and overwhelmed. 

So for all the "you're young" comments I hear, they must have heard them too...for all the stress I put on myself and unloaded, they were there too.  More than there...they see themselves in me. 

I've taken some of those comments as condescending, a little mockery, like they don't take me seriously, like I'm always a baby despite all my efforts to look otherwise.  But maybe that's not really it...

And maybe the only words to say are those because really, I wouldn't have been able to handle, to live, anything more than that at 24/25.  Or now at 34.  Even now, I think of what I might have told myself then and if it could have mattered.  All I come up with is exactly what was said to me.  I would not have believed or listened to anything else because I had to figure stuff out on my own.

It's an amazing moment realizing someone sees him/herself in you.

"You will be fine."

Sometimes I get kicked right back to a place - an emotional place - that I thought I'd squashed and moved passed.  Sometimes it's that same person who does it.  Sometimes the 180 I do leaves my head spinning.

Today is the first day of Lent and my promise to myself is to do my best to get out of my own head and past old demons and insecurities that have reared their ugly heads in recent weeks due to the business' struggles and my innate desires to prove myself - to myself and others. 

Maybe in 40 days I won't feel so unsupported...so hard on myself...so embarrassed...so young.  Not letting certain things affect me takes major effort especially when I work so hard to change past images and perceptions and I want so badly to be seen as an ace.  I don't know how I'm getting to that mental place.

Toxic

I know I'm a pretty rational and compassionate person.  I also know when enough is enough...when all compassion and tolerance has to end because someone I've tolerated in tiny dosages (because I needed to) is actually just a miserable insecure toxic bitch.

I've known for years this girl and I were night and day.  So much so that it was always a chore to entertain her, hang out with her, and just have her within my circle of acquaintances.  But I did it because it was like family..and because every once in a while, I can just deal.  I can make the small talk, I can be cordial.  Because it's what we do as adults - we suck it up sometimes.

I can.

And then one day, despite whatever conditions this chick has in her life, whatever someone wants to say - again - to excuse her horrid, fake, bitchy snobby behavior - I say no.  I'm done.  At 34, I am done.  I don't need to pretend anymore, to be civil, to do anything ever again.  Because girls like this don't deserve someone like me.  Girls like this don't know how to handle someone like me...they only know how to handle their kind, the kind that enable and percolate their own insecurities. 

Cutting the toxic yet again.

My Favorite Things

A repost from Piccadilly's blog from this week.

A fellow blogger recently posted about how she'd been inspired by one of my favorite movies, Love Actually, and the words "Love really is all around." She let those words be her guide as she decorated her house - specifically her Christmas tree - for the holiday. Stenciling those words on ribbon she encircled the entire tree in the ribbon and adorned it with handcrafted framed ornaments of her family.
It got me thinking. If I had the time to do something similar, what would it look like?  Most likely "My Favorite Things" from The Sound of Music.  Then I thought - in lieu of ribbon - I'd write a holiday blog post about my favorite things, especially at this time of year.

Classic Movies
I am watching Meet Me In St. Louis as I type.  My Pop Pop introduced me to classics with the Sound of Music around the age of 5 so it's no surprise that I love that movie, and tons of others, and feel the need to watch them all one right after the other during these relaxing post holiday days.

Cocoa and Lights
A cup of cocoa and a stroll through a park, Macy's Light Show, or even South Philly looking at all the lights (and plastic praying Blessed Mother hands) goes a long way, especially with a 3 year old in tow. I love white lights most of all, especially when entire streets are lined in them.  Cue a little Celtic music and it's the most romantic setting.  My son is entranced with all lights (and scary blow up Santas, etc.) but it's OK...it's all magical to him and experiencing the holiday through his eyes is joy.

Vintage
My love of vintage runs the gamut but this time of year I especially love gorgeous vintage dresses, old photographs (in general but mostly of my family), mid century ornaments, and Christmas albums on vinyl.

Handmade
It was something of a lean holiday in this house but it made me grateful for my artistic side.  For years I've given paintings from various classes, b/w photographs taken and framed, and most recently, hand crocheted scarves and dishcloths.  Needless to say, a few daycare teachers received Trader Joe's coffee, cookies, mugs and a crocheted dishcloth.   I appreciate all handmade goodies, be it jewelry, little ceramic magnets and stones, ornaments, pottery, you name it.  And I love spending time hunting for that perfect handmade item for the artists and creative folk in my life.

Italian cookies
My Grandmom nails pizzelles as well as her lemon cookies.  I experiment with ricotta ones but I have yet to try the pizzelle iron.

Pointsetta
Red, white, and tons of them.  My Pop Pop would get them for my mom every year and they would adorn the house.  Flanked with evergreen swag and red bows, it's so classic Christmas to me. And it ties into my next favorite thing.

Nature
I know it's dreary out and we almost never get a White Christmas but I love nothing more than bits of nature brought indoors this time of year -- pine cones, green, berries.  If it was up to me I'd have THE Charlie Brown tree (I'm not a fan of fat bushy trees).  Brandywine River Museum has an annual "critter sale" - critters made from all natural elements, assembled by their volunteers - and I have a dog, squirrel, and bear and they are the coolest and simplest ornaments. There's also a bit of hope that shines on December 22, the first day of winter, knowing we gain a little more light with each day until June...always worth celebrating.

These are just a few of my favorite things...and if I look around I can see a little piece of each in my holiday decor, mood, and spirit.  Piccadilly wishes you all a wonderful holiday season and Winter Solstice.  May you find the time to rest and recharge, be with your friends and family and to quote one of my favorite bands, "Be here now." Enjoy and be grateful for the gift of the present moment.

By Chrissie

Please Touch ~ December

Hadn't been to the kids' museum in a while and Uncle Brian had never been so we told the boy we'd all go together soon.  Soon wasn't soon enough.  Today we ventured to Fairmount Park and enjoyed practically having the space all to ourselves.  There's even a dance party at the end of the day - complete with drums and tambourines.  4pm on a Monday -- where it's at.
 

Dishes

Just a post-Turkey day thought: Who else has family that as soon as one finishes his/her meal (usually her), stands up and clears plates and immediately begins doing the dishes?  My mom does this and I have mixed feelings about it.  Part of the dinner is the socialization aspect of it and when folks jump up and put the focus on cleaning right away, I'm a little annoyed.  Don't get me wrong -- who isn't grateful for an extra (or 3 extra sets of hands) to help clean up after a party?  But I tell them to sit down and leave them...even for 30 minutes.  Enjoy a cup of coffee and conversation.  The dishes will get done.

This drives me the most crazy when my mom hosts Christmas Eve dinner at her own house, slaves away for weeks prior and then barely gets to enjoy it when it arrives because she's still caught in the stress ball moments.  The best time to finally relax would be following the meal - and enjoying dessert and coffee - but she rarely does this.  Dishes have to be soaked and stacked, fine china cleaned with care, dishwasher load one going before the first pot is on the table.

Damn the dishes.

Thanksgiving

I had a moment yesterday to get outside and really enjoy the gorgeous crisp fall afternoon.  In between preparing a turkey and aromatic stuffing and tidying up the place for the family, I escaped for about an hour to go for a short two mile run.  Sans my iTunes, it was me and the sound of the pavement and the wind blowing. With all my traveling this fall, I was happy to sneak in a run at a hotel's gym, a walk outside with the dog, or a visit to the gym for a spinning class.  It was like therapy to get outside in my gear and move.  I saw the last of the fall foliage set against a backdrop of a cloudless blue sky. I stared longingly at a tree outside the church and considered for a moment myself at 20, curled up underneath with a text book or a file of photography contact sheets, the Smiths playing from my disc man.

Runs are amazing, whether I have music or not.  My head is cleared and I get perspective.  On Thanksgiving Day, I had a moment to reflect on my blessings -- my family, sweet son, home, friends, colleagues, work, and characteristics the Lord has bestowed on me like fight, determination and perseverance.  And of course the ability to recognize that things happen for a reason and we are all part of His master plan.

It'll get chillier now with December waving his hand at us but I hope I can squeeze in a few more late fall runs before snow falls.

 A recent sunset on a warmer November day.

If You Do One More Thing...I'll Do Nothing

This is a great article on BlogHer. About those parents who threaten their kids and then never follow through. We have all been there. Even me. But there are those that stay there...and others, like me, who have learned quickly that one must enforce the threat/consequences. I mean, hey, wasn't that how I was raised?

I used to have this sweet boy that occasionally would need a time out for throwing a toy. Consequences didn't work on an 18 mo old...nor did they work much when he was two. But a simple time out, a break from the action, sufficed. I would listen to other mom friends tell their tales of disciplining their kid and simply wasn't in a place to wrap my head around their challenges.

Now I have a three year old and I get it. Now that he's three, he has a vocabulary, emotions, attitude, and the uncanny ability to defy us. To hear but not listen...to explore and blatantly test boundaries. I feel like the times I am with him this summer all I do is holler. And I've become "that mom" who hollers at her kid in the store and parking lot...who grabs her kid and gets down to his level and sternly tells him to knock off whatever he's doing. I imagine other moms get it. It's the single 20-somethings sans kids that like me at that age, do not. I even found that the threat of not going to the pool or not using the iPad works. And if it doesn't they are yanked.

I have also witnessed some poor parenting by friends of mine. Again, not something I would have noticed when I was younger, sans kids, or even 18 months ago when Mitch was still just a young toddler. Now that I see how and when my kid acts up, I have no patience for wishy washy parents. Parents that threaten to take away dessert if a few more bites of dinner aren't eaten (Threatening food just makes no sense to me...it just doesn't carry the same weight as a toy or event), who threaten a million times and never follow through, or who can't/won't control their kid when adults are over, who let their kid stay up far too late, even the ones that control conflict. I really feel sorry for the kids. They own it and they know it and even if they are generally good kids, they have no boundaries. Sometimes it takes schooling and the disciplining of teachers and the social interaction with other kids to balance out the brat. Other times...you really do have an elementary aged brat on your hands.

10 years later

A colleague and fellow blogger, The Culture Mom, recently wrote about changes she's experienced over the past 10 years. It got me thinking...

I reflected on one element of this a week or so ago right after I saw Richard Ashcroft in concert. The technology changes we've seen since 2001 have been enormous. I talked here about how the concert going experience has drastically changed for the audience.

But what else? 10 years ago I was laid off from my first job, just barely 23 years old. I had a horrible falling out with a friend and this week marks the 10 year anniversary of my grandfather's passing. It was a horrible first three months. It would get worse when I would experience loss at a larger scale in September when the towers collapsed. While I didn't know anyone personally affected, it further escalated my feelings of loss, grief and vulnerability.

I was young, ambitious and figuring out my place in the world. My parents were still separated. I was learning how to draw lines and set boundaries in relationships, and learning about myself within those relationships. Classic quarter life existential crisis.

I was about 10 lbs lighter ;) a nice size 4/6 pre baby. I was living in the city and enjoying the proximity to coffee houses, the museum area, my still favorite of all time gym, Life Fitness in Fairmount. I had a lot of free time but I was wasn't like most carefree 20 somethings. The layoff (and the subsequent ones) drove me into a very focused, very driven mentality. I was very intense and I brought that level of intensity to everything I did. I felt frustrated and somewhat entitled. I always wanted more and strived to identify what "more" looked like. It was one of only a few times in my life that I couldn't visualize what lay ahead of me.

I partied a little, not to the extent I did in college but I enjoyed checking out new places in Old City and Manayunk. I shopped at The Limited, The Gap, and Banana Republic. My style was a tad more trendy. I dyed my hair myself. I worked out a lot and ate as healthy as I do now.

Just the other day I was listening to The Smiths and my mind went immediately to 1998-2000 when I was taking photography classes at SJU. I can still smell the photo chemicals in the room, taste the freedom I had to come and go to the darkroom, and the events surrounding the times. I loved college. LOVED IT. While there was a lot of personal turmoil then, I fought my way through it, found a balance with the I have/have not. I had one of the most amazing senior years ever and I knew then how lucky I was to be experiencing all I was. I could feel then how I was growing emotionally, mentally, intellectually, culturally...

When I consider where I am now -- 33, married, little guy, working to build a business -- I'm actually in a much better, happier part of my life. To this day, I don't like to waste time and there's still a level of intense enthusiasm I bring to most projects and situations, but thankfully, I've mellowed a bit since then. Sometime around the time I was 29 I got a sense of perspective. I realized I was OK with my choices and I didn't need to explain myself. I was content in my relationships and with who I was, what I had learned, how I'd evolved. My pregnancy forced me to slow down just enough to relish in some simple things that I never allowed myself time for previously - baths, manicures and pedicures, salon visits, watching a little TV or reading. I still need reminders to slow down sometimes...I see myself doing so much with my son and it's terrific but there's also something to be said for just chilling out.

There's definitely not nearly as much time for me as there once was. I miss the creativity that seemed to flow freely in college and often in my 20s. Somedays I resent that...though not because I wish things were the same as they were then. More like I wish the selflessness was recognized more often. I'm not a selfless person by nature. But I'm a responsible one. Having a child means putting his needs before mine daily. It's out of responsibility but also love. I've learned to be a lot less selfish. I'm still assertive and still aware of what I need but I can't say I get the help I know I should. I'm also someone that likes to do a lot. I have to find balances but I do have to fight for "me" time.

Traveling Cunundrums

There's really no way to vent about this without sounding like a complete snob but I'll try anyway...

I or perhaps, we (my husband and I) are at a point in our lives where certain things matter to us. For example, traveling. I'm the planner in the relationship for sure, but roles aside, the bottom line is, we know what are must-haves: A decent hotel or house, a pool, some culture, some boutiques, some interesting things to do/see nearby, wifi, a massage place, and if we bring the boy, some kid friendly places too.

I say this because we're realizing that at some point in the past 5-7 years, what we did then and what we do/want now with friends has changed. Once we were all in similar boats and certain situations were completely fine. Factor in kids and some of those luxuries I mentioned above and suddenly it makes more sense to just do our own thing. Because well, we're not cutting THOSE corners.

Regardless of others' financial situations, let's face it -- some people just have totally different priorities. Some are just spendthrifts. That's fine. I'm not going to tell you how and where to spend your hard earned cash, or what's important to you. But I'm starting to have issues with those folks that almost never can nor want to go out once in a while...or drive somewhere...or do something that doesn't always involve me coming to them so they can save a buck or not be inconvenienced. I admit if I care enough, I can suck it up. For a good while.

But when is enough enough? When do you say - I have standards (or priorities), they are higher (or different) than yours and I'm not sacrificing just so you get what you want, again, or because to make something within your budget?

See, this is what I mean about seeming like a snob. Around friends and family you love. And if we want something bad enough, do we pony up the extra cash? Do we keep doing what we're doing, feeling like we do it all? That the proverbial street is one way? Certainly there are intrinsic benefits I'm not accounting for but still...you do like to know that you matter just as much to others that they are willing to contribute once in a while.

Sigh.

Grandpop Bonanni

My late grandfather passed away in January 1992 and to celebrate what I think will be his 85th birthday tomorrow - January 13 - I'm collecting stories, memories and photos from my family today.


Here are some of my memories:

Duck Pond
Pennies from the jar
He was one of a handful of people that wrote out my full name
Tons of kiddie movies on his Beta VHS - Chip & Dale, Bugs Bunny, lots of Disney
Rope swing at Malaga
That NY had the best pizza ever -- still no denying that!
Round Ball Round Ball
Penny Poker - compliments of John
The rainbow that spread clear across the sky at his funeral
Christmas at Wannamaker
Coming to my First Communion (in NY) and the beautiful doll he and Grandmom gave me as a gift. The $50 gift that then went toward my pink Huffy bike.
Genesis' Follow You, Follow Me

It's also uncanny that at times my son is the spitting image of him ;)

The King Is Dead

If you've ever known my husband - ever - you've known a complete computer geek. Always the gamer, the network admin, my basement is littered with cables, wires, motherboards, bits and pieces of PC equipment and a ton of outdated software. It's possible somewhere down there is a floppy.

Vince could troubleshoot anything.

Until now.

His title as computer geek has officially ended. We both have new laptops with Windows 7 installed. We've had these laptops for some time now. His is older than mine. Once upon a time he'd have figured out that for whatever reason they could not connect to the server. He would have actually tried to do so. Instead, I'm moving thousands of music files off my old laptop and onto the server, now trying to upload them to the new laptop and into iTunes - with no luck.

He is clueless. The best I can do is access the information via the web IP. WHAT? That doesn't help me import the music.

A long time ago, before the world of License Restoration and SEO dominated his life (and baseball and Flyers), this would have been realized, addressed, and fixed - albeit with a few dollars spent at CompUSA - in one night.

I had computers built for me, issues troubleshooted, and yes, I was spoiled. Now, I must join the ranks of all the other folks in the world who have average nontechie partners and go at it alone. Or worse - call in reinforcements. This sucks.

The Ghost of Christmas Past

I posted this on my myspace on Christmas Eve and the aftermath of sorting through the photos on December 26 sends chills up my spine. The photo was taken at my mom's (Aunt Betty's) on Christmas Eve...right before my cousin Hannah left.

Christmas Eve
Every so often a holiday season comes around and I actually have my act together - decorations hung, projects completed and gifts bought and wrapped well before Christmas Eve sneaks up on me. This was one of those years. As I left the fumes of Pink Nail Salon in Broomall late Saturday afternoon, I realized I was finished. Whoo Hoo. What a far cry from previous years. For some reason my head went back to 1997. I distinctly recall framing a Nick Santoleri card of Barberlin Hall (at St. Joe's University) for my grandfather. He had studied there back in the day. I'm imagining I must have been working today - Christmas Eve (you know, time and a half is a big deal) so by the time I arrived home from Deck the Walls, it was time to get dressed - out of my grey cords and white zipped hoodie and little retro sneakers - and get over to my grandparents house. The framed card was not wrapped. I dragged myself and my unwrapped gift over there and stashed the gift on the second floor. After dinner I scurried off to wrap it and not a minute too soon. It was for him and he was in the living room below announcing, "Time to open the pressies!" Quickly I taped a bow to the front and tore down the steps and dropped it on the top of his gift pile. Some time later (because it always took Nana and Pop Pop the longest amount of time to open their tower of gifts) my mom nudged me and pointed to Pop Pop. He had opened the gift and was staring at it with nostalgia and then looked over at me and said, "Thanks, Chrissie...this is great!"

Four years later after he passed away my grandmother handed me a few things. "You gave these to Pop Pop and he'd want you to have them." Within the stack was the framed picture of SJU. I had forgotten about it. He'd kept it in his Media law office. I held it for some time and then looked on the back where I had written, "Dear Pop Pop, Merry Christmas, Love Chrissie" and beneath it the date: 12/24/1997.

Of course now it means more to me than that Christmas I gave it - since I studied there and in many ways was his gift from beyond to me. I have it with my tassel from graduation day next to the framed letter he wrote me in 2000 congratulating me on my time at St. Joe's and wishing me well on my trip to Greece.

Tonight when we go to my mom's house for Christmas Eve I know it isn't quite the same as when we went to Nana's for all those years. It was his favorite holiday though for bittersweet reasons: his mother passed away on Christmas Eve. Being around his immediatate family took his mind off his loss. I think for everyone there tonight this evening has a similar aura. But then there is Hannah, my 8 year old cousin, born only 18 months before he passed away. Hannah tells us, "I see Pop Pop all the time at Aunt Betty's house." So I have faith he is with us, especially on Christmas Eve.

Pooch

So if you're a woman over the age of 25 you've experienced the pooch. Eat too much salt? Pooch. PMSed? Pooch. Just a bad day? Pooch. That little poochy piece of belly that bloats out.

Despite having the occasional pooch issue, I've never in my life had anyone poke me and point it out and bizarrely enough, ask me if I was pregnant??? A good friend and mother of a 2 year old - who's party I was attending - asked this of me in room full of people. I inspected my cute outfit - black skirt and empire waisted turquoise tank that hung so the PMSed pooch was covered. Turn to the side. Hmmm...a little pooch...I think the size small skirt from 2001 when I was a size 4 was making it look worse. Possibly. But all in all, it wasn't protruding like I was in my first trimester.

Wait. What am I doing? I'm standing in front of my friend's bathroom mirror PMSed and crampy wondering if what I'm wearing hides my pooch? Do I really care? Hell no. This is a cute outfit dammit. And I'm the cutest chick at this party.

I decided I didn't give a damn, but it does raise the question - Why have so many of my pregnant friends or recent mothers asked me/insinuated/projected their motherly instincts - about my current place in life sans children: "Are you guys trying? When are you thinking of having kids? Come on, Chrissie, have a baby! Babies are great!! They're so much fun! Oh, you guys have time...there's no rush...oh wait - you fainted? I'm noticing the pooch. Obviously you must be pregnant." These are examples of what I've heard.

Sigh. I'm not really upset by this...I'm more or less wondering why on earth people care to the extent of constant conversation? I don't worry about when another couple plans on buying a house, having kids, moving, changing jobs...I just don't. Another older wiser friend of mine (with 2 grown kids) said "Well, Chris, I think it's because that's where their minds are...(OK, understandable, but still. Did I ask all my pals when they were getting engaged when I was planning my wedding? No. I was wrapped up with my own stuff). She continued, "and to some extent, they need to justify where they are in their life by asking all their friends why they aren't there yet."

Because most of my 20s were spent with antiquated measuring devices (old school thought) measuring all the wrong things (my jobs, my apartments, my friends, my life compared to others). Because that's what I needed to do in order to grow up. Because now I follow the beat of my own drummer.

Things happen when they do. Until then, I will embrace my PMSed state and don my yoga pants to hide the pooch.

Thank You For Being A Friend...

It's like the Golden Girls theme song...

We hung out the other night and I remembered how much I adore him and how much I learn from him. For so long I focused on moving forward, moving on, priding myself for always knowing when the writing is on the walls and getting out, not being afraid to embrace change and that everyone needed a little Chrissie inspiration in their lives.

I don't think I affect people that much. I just try to give little boosts of confidence here and there and share stories, good and bad. But it was still me focused on me and in some ways masking internal sadness that I never truly found job security and had to take matters into my own hands. I know to many it's ballsy and commendable, but it's scary too. Regardless, I always believe we have some control over our destinies and for a long time now, I've tried to be a positive influence and motivator for him.

In his presence the other night, I am humbled because he is older and wiser. He can see in me the deeply rooted burning issues and will laugh with me but also understand that they do exist and it's OK...but he gently reminds me to not over analyze situations, to relax. He allows me to be here now. He's that kind of person - I can tell him anything and he knows me well enough to talk me off ledges and call me on any BS. At times I've questioned the friendship, if it was real enough to withstand people moving on, but interestingly, it's made me more self aware. Once upon a time I would have projected unrealistic expectations onto him and onto the relationship and it would have imploded like a few previous friendships, but I suppose I am older and wiser too. I did that once last October - and we squabbled and I was so hurt I didn't speak to him for a week and cried - and then caught myself. Instead of internalizing emotions, I talked about it and I saw that for this to move forward I needed to relax a bit and let things just be. Accept this person for who he is.

And the best conversations and moments come out of me simply accepting and existing. It's a new thing for me :)

So I told him this. He tells me he's glad I feel this way, that he doesn't want to think he's the only one coming away with something. That when we sit and talk he forgets our age difference...except for when he sees all that I am doing in my life at the ripe age of 29 and what he has yet to do at 42. I smile and blush a little when I read that - I am my own worst critic, thinking what have I done? Most days I wish I was 42 with all that acquired knowledge. But I keep the faith - for me, for him, for others in my life. And I know the sense of awe we have in each other, for whatever our reasons, is real and sustains the friendship.

But then he offers me the biggest compliment anyone can ever give, one I heard once before, 10 years ago. He tells me "You do make me want to be a better man."

10 years later I am still filled with so much emotion that I can't find any words to express how that makes me feel.

From Beyond

I have this weird way of remembering someone on the exact day that a particular situation with that person occurred. Moreover, I'm also convinced that those who have gone before me find the most unusual ways of communicating with me. The day I fainted in April was the day my grandfather passed away 6 years ago. When I picked my car up at Villanova that evening, it was 7:30 PM, right when he passed. I thought of how despite the days surrounding his death being unseasonably warm, inside I felt alone, sad, wavering, cold. Sort of how I feel now. I carry around the weight of that memory with the situation of the day and my current career struggles - I'm strangely aware and saddened by all I think and see and experience this day - and I yet I felt calm like he was with me, reminding me to keep the faith. Had I been feeling better, I would have stopped at the cemetery.

In 2000 before I left for Greece, Pop Pop wrote me a letter expressing his excitement for me as I embarked on this journey but moreover, the many journeys I would soon experience as I graduated St. Joe's. Three weeks after he passed away on May 3, 2001, I sat in my Philadelphia apartment and sobbed over the incredible amount of loss I'd suffered in the last few months. I suddenly remembered this letter and found it in my desk drawer. I looked down and saw the date was the same. There I sat in a puddle of tears as my life crumbled around me, knowing he'd wanted more for me than what I was living right then, at yet also knowing he wanted me to find that letter at that moment. Through hiccups of despair, I knew he was telling me to keep the faith and take comfort that he was there with me. Years later, that letter still finds me on May 3. Sometimes in between to remind me of who I am.

You Know Too Much

For some reason the other night, I recalled a dinner shared with old co-workers about two years ago. We were sitting around a table in a small intimate Moroccan restaurant on the Upper West Side of NYC before seeing a show at the Lincoln Center. I don't know now what we were all talking about and what it was exactly I said, but he turned to me and said very matter of factly, "You know, you can be so tough at times and at other times, so completely vulnerable." I just sat there. Stunned. To this day, I don't know what irks me more - that this person actually figured me out and whatever mystery or allure I had was gone or that this person had the balls to say it to me. Which is totally something I would do!

I still remember it. I was speechless. I don't know what I did. I bet my face turned a million shades of red. Today's Storyperson hit the nail on the head:

Know Too Much
I have to hate you, she said. You know too much about me to be trusted.

Storypeople

I am a fan of Brian Andreas' Storypeople. These are cute illustrations with little stories. The stories are all positive messages. You can visit storypeople.com and subscribe to the Story of the Day email. Some of these I know from my job and others I do not. Today's I liked:

Crossing the Line
I have too much to lose, she said, if I cross that line. Like what? I said. She could not think of anything that day so she said she'd get back to me. Since then I've been thinking what I would lose if I cross my line & I haven't come up with anything either. There's always another line somewhere.

Heaven knows how many lines I've crossed. If I'm not blatently crossing them, I'm walking them, blurring them, moving them. Pissing people off. Especially the higher ups. But like the Storyperson said - there's always another line somewhere.