Tag Archives: family

on tight jeans.

12 Sep

You know that feeling when you put on a pair of jeans you haven’t worn in a few months? How the starched-out cotton clings to your thighs & you have to wriggle around to get the zipper to zip, despite not having gained any weight? The way you awkwardly waddle from place to place as they reform to fit your legs?

Yeah, this feels a little bit like that. Awkward, stilted, starched, self-conscious. Like a high school reunion (not that I would know). But hi. I’m back.

I’m 2nd from the left in case you can’t remember what I look like.

I wish I could tell you that my two-month absence was because I was out living it up in the summer sunshine, but I’ve always been a pretty bad liar (no poker face to speak of, unfortunately). And while I have done my fair share of fun, exciting things this summer, the truth is that I haven’t posted because I’ve been in a bit of a “funk”.

I don’t usually get very personal on the blog not because I don’t trust you, but because I like my blog to be a “happy place”. But I figure at least a cursory explanation is in order.

This “funk” has really been a long time coming. For at least a year I’ve felt myself losing grip of my bits of exuberance and vivacity that used to define me as a person. I’m not sure if people can really tell from the outside, but mentally I get in very negative places fairly frequently. During the school year, I’m too busy to dig myself into mental trenches, but summer tends to invite brooding and the subsequent haze of negativity. I did a lot of questioning of my blog’s purpose and most of my evaluations came up negative. Not to mention that my overall motivation was at an all-time low.

And really, it’s easy to watch the time slip away. A day. A week. Two. Six. Two months. You fall into a rhythm of mediocrity and lackluster living that just isn’t worth it. But once you dig yourself fairly deep, it can be hard to get back out.

These help. :)

I really don’t want to bore you to tears with yet another sob story, nor do I particularly want to garner any pity, but the point is that I’m reviving myself, one small step at a time. It might start with just getting out of bed for a workout. Just stepping outside for a ten-minute walk. Just getting enough momentum to do one small thing. But eventually those become easier, and eventually you can move on to the bigger things.  Eventually that stilted, awkward feeling gives way as the cotton bends & stretches & everything becomes second nature again.

These too!

This conveniently is coming just before the start of the school year when I’ll probably be slammed with work, so I can’t promise how often I’ll post. I also am still kind of evaluating the direction of my blog, but that’s a story for another time.

The point of this lengthy, wordy, and probably overly-personal post is twofold. Firstly, to kind of say hello and offer a meager justification for my extended absence. Secondly, to remind anyone and everyone out there who’s having a bad day, week, month, year, that it can and will get better. I don’t really have a lot of answers about how, but I’m always open to discussing my experiences more via e-mail (and possibly on the blog if anybody really wants to know, though it admittedly makes me a little nervous).

So here’s to softening jeans & remembering how to smile & finding those bits and pieces you think you’ve lost along the way. They’re always there. You just have to find them.

How do you get out of funks?

Anything in particular you want to see on my blog? I have a million pictures from the summer that I’ll be releasing in doses, but I’m sort of rethinking my general formula… Sometimes I feel like I just write fluff. Maybe that’s just me being negative though!

Personal stuff on blogs: yay or nay? 

daddy of mine.

19 Jun

My daddy and I have quite a history. He’s put up with a lot of sh!t from me.

No, literally. As the story goes, when I was around 6 months old he was taking care of me and ran out of diapers, and was holding me in is big old hands and… well, I had to go! (Why I am posting this story on the world wide web is totally beyond me).

At least I was adorable…

Since then, he has continued to put up with quite a lot. From my… rather rough… teenage years to my affinity for bad music, he just sits through it all… Perhaps not without complaint (poor Bruno Mars is the brunt of 90% of the jokes in our household, particularly for “Grenade”, and let’s not even start on Justin Bieber and Taylor Swift), but still.

The fam in Italy… yes, my dad is large and intimidating.

Though we still butt heads from time to time (as is wont to happen when you combine two stubborn people), I know whenever I need him he’ll be there. He’s my biggest cheerleader and supporter of my newfound interest in running; we exchanged numerous disgustingly-long e-mails over the course of last quarter in an effort to design a training plan for my half-marathon. On one night in particular he arrived at home tired from a day of biking and partying and still stayed up an extra half-hour to write me an epically long response about every minute detail I was obsessing over (what can I say, babbling is genetic).

He and my “little” brother did the STP last year, and *I* was the cheerleader… 

I know if I need someone to wake up early with me on vacation and go on a run, he’ll be there. I know on days when I feel fat and ugly he’ll be there to tell me I’m crazy and, of course, beautiful (whether or not I believe it). I know when I need to get from point A to point B he’ll lead me the right way… which my mom and I are both a little questionable at.

And, of course, whenever I have a spider in my bathroom or a 49.5 pound suitcase to carry, he’s my man.

The happy couple in Sorrento last year. :)

For all that he drives me crazy making fun of me for, well, everything, I know I’ve inherited some of my incredible wit (read: penchant for bad jokes) from him. If not simply a dry, sarcastic sense of humor and a thicker skin. And for all the times I’ve had to hide my chocolate chips in my sock drawer to keep him from eating them, I know there have been many times that he’s helped me polish off a batch of cookies or muffins (tough job, but someone’s got to do it). For all that he scares the living daylights out of almost all of my potential suitors (even the ones that measure up to his 6’4″ height), I know he’s also good for keeping away the creepers. And for every annoyance he may have caused me, I know I’ve done at least a million times more.

So thank you, dad, for putting up with crap of various forms for the past 20 years.

Excuse the fact that I look like a zombie… this was a very early-morning train.

And happy fathers day. :)

What has your dad put up with?