Long May You Run

There are very few things from the past 13 years that are the same as they were in 2000. But there was always one constant that never changed, my sweet Abby girl. She stood side by side with me as I lived with my best friends after college, survived our shenanigans as we survived puppy hood. She was there through a marriage and its eventual end, and she was always with me as I picked up the pieces and learned how to stand on my own two feet. She was there for the heartaches that followed, she was there when my heart learned that it was capable of love again, she was there when I regained hope. It was Abby that was there in the passenger seat as I said goodbye to Lexington, our Hobbit House, and who was with me when we moved to a deluxe apartment in the sky. My Abby was there when I fell in love for the last time, when we built our house, when Piper, then Cat came to be ours. This time, it was her that I chose to be my maid of honor as I said "I do,” and the one I clung to in the days before I knew I was pregnant. It was my girl who was here to welcome home my sons, to sit with me in the wee hours of the night, and the one who would let them pull her tail in curiosity and glee. Through all the ups and downs, through a million laughs and a million tears, she was as loyal as the first day she became mine. But today, she left me for the first and only time. Today, she drifted out of this world just as she lay in my arms. The most difficult choice I’ve ever made, a bittersweet moment of compassion over pain, for the most wonderful friend and companion I've ever had.

Long may you run, my sweet Abby girl. 

What Happens Next?

It seems as though the times when I have sat down to write on this blog, for the most part, were when I needed an outlet, and the internets the only way to project my voice. Such is true again today, when the latest chapter of this long lost story begins. I wonder if it will allow me to come back here, my first blogging home, where my sad tales, romantic interludes, and mixed adventures were the mainstain for a good number of years, a good number of years ago.

I wonder what this new path will allow me to discover, what it might also heal, and whether these two volumes of words can come together in sweet precision, or if they go very far away in the opposite direction. So much has been left unsaid here, that without telling the middle part of the story, the new wouldn't necessarily make sense. I think that might also be the best part about it - that I can come back to you when I want, how I want, and all our history is still here. Collision of who I am, and always have been -- smack into the person I am trying to become. Should be an interesting ride...

Paris, La Rive Gauche

This city...this city continues to haunt me.

Tonight I sit as a stranded passenger. The volcano in Iceland that's name I willl NEVER be able to pronounce, has cast its volcanic spew for so many miles and stopped air traffic for days. One week here already, and two more days before I may leave, at the earliest...stranded with 8 colleagues, and facing a planes, trains, and automobiles trip through Madrid on Friday if things don't improve. So tonight, this stranded passenger in what feels like her upteenth trip to Paris this year, sits from a room on a quiet street, Rue du Sommerard in the Quartier Latin, my favorite, but longing to be home.

So much has changed.

Three years ago, I left Lexington for the DC area as a girl longing to live an international life. Longing to live abroad, in Paris, specifically. I came to work for a French company, and only in the last five months began the deluge of transatlanticsm. I met the love of my life, the best friend and companion I could ever ask for, a Frenchman, but tonight in France - without him, I feel like this city is swallowing up my soul.

It seems it always happens, whenever I am here and alone. Today, as my routine here dictates, I sat on the left bank of the Seine. That same spot where I always return to, right where Notre Dame and the river meet. I soak up the spring air, and the smell of budding flowers, and smoke cigarettes while pondering my small existence. I feel sad, and alone, and am missing him.

I sit and am an awe again, to see lovers entwined, young, old, attached. The spirt of romance exudes without effort here, and it is here that I always wish to have the affection of a man. It's here on the river bank that I notice how inately cool even the oldest of Parisian women are. Their style so simple, so complex, and though they appear to be effortlessly beautiful, yet, I suspect it is all very much a contrived effort to appear flawless. The children play or sit quietly in their carriages, and the dogs walk as if nary a stranger be near. Friends gather for a leisurely lunch on the river bank a top a blanket with their pastries, bread, and bottle of red, and just lavish in the joie de vivre which is so pervasive here. This city fuels my fire within, but it scorches my soul with a consuming sadness for reasons I can't explain.

When I am alone here, it is easy to be reminded of how alone I am. I sit here in this city and I am romanced by the air, and seduced by the sound. I am surrounded by the envelope of lonliness that she holds me in. Tonight from this quiet street, I am sad and loathing everything I love about her. Tonight, I wish I could feel the electric energy that everyone else around me has found.

My sweet Paris. You and I are entangled in ways I cannot explain. You pull me in and spit me out. You feed me love and romance, and you make me yearn for a hand to hold. Once only wishing to be here, and now only wishing to return home.

To the Parisian who I left at home.

Does this thing still work?

I have been yearning to come back to you - and still somehow unable to remember how to push that little publish button. So much has changed, so, so much. And yet I still look back and see the same girl from 2006 and 2007 who told her tales of love, woe and some bits of adventure. She sits in a very different place today, and life has taken her in a direction well different than she ever imagined. But she is the same.

She still misses you. She still longs for you. She still needs you.

I think she's ready to return...

I Know You're Probably Wondering

Yeah, I've fallen off the face of the earth. I have been thinking of a return, and I'm thinking it will be sooner rather than later. Much to tell. And then again, not all that much.

Kisses,
N

Tonight

I have never been more proud to be an American. This moment, this wonderfully sublime and perfect moment - we have changed the course of history. We are embarking on a new journey as a people and I can't wait to be a part of it. I am so, so proud to know what we're getting ready to do. Tonight, tonight! We made a change...and I have to believe we WILL be better for it. More to come - but I couldn't be happier. I couldn't ever be more proud than this moment in time.

This one's for you, Floss...

The Day I've Been Waiting For

Taking A Stand

My mother and I have been going back and forth for what seems like ages on this election, and this is what it comes down to, 24-hours and counting before our fate is once again sealed by the American people. This is what I believe in, why I choose to vote, and, although I don't expect everyone to vote like me these are the issues that make me passionate about this election. What is important is that people don't except status quo, that everyone finds a voice, and that you let your voice be heard tomorrow.

Dearest Mother,

I can't believe I've taken the time to reply to this email, however, I will and only because it will be the end of this tete-a-tete you've wanted to engage in for the last 6 months. And also because in a little over 24-hours this will all be over, thankfully, and a new round of bashing will ineveitably ensue.

I will vote for Barack Obama tomorrow, gladly, willingly, of sound heart and mind for the following reasons:

1) I do believe the government should assist people who can't help themselves, specifically in the case healthcare. I do not want to lose the right to employer based healthcare as a caveot to a credit that is less than what my benefits are now.

2) I believe that funding should come from the government to support people who can't help themselves. I'm pretty sure Head Start is a government sponsored program and it not only paid Nana's salary, but a program that has helped (with funding from GULP! the government) to provide comprehensive education, health, nutrition, and other services to nearly 25 million low-income children and their families over the past 40+ years. But sure, let's just cut that because we're putting food on our own tables.

3) I believe that the government should help to make college or college loans available and that it should require service of the citizens in exchange for that assistance.

4) I believe that a woman should have the right to choose her life over the life of an unborn child, specifically and only in the first trimester, and only in cases of rape, incest, or in the case where it threatens the mothers health. I believe that the government should not have the authority to make the choice for the woman, ever. I believe in sex education. I also believe that if Roe V. Wade were to be overturned by the appointment of right-winged Republican supreme court judges that if elected McCain, or worse, Sarah Palin, were to make that it would become a top agenda and a solid example of "big government."

5) Even though I consider myself to be a Christian, I believe in the separation of church and state - I believe this country was formed to be a country for all people, all religions, not just Christians, not just ruled by Christians, or not just tolerated by Christian principals.

6) I believe that because of point number 4 it is not up to my country, rather up to the couple, to decide whether or not marriage is defined as man & woman, or man & man, or woman & woman. I believe that anyone who wants to be together, has that right and should be afforded the same rights as a heterosexual couple.

7) I believe in re-distribution of the wealth. Guess what? So does John McCain and so does George Bush. Case in point: Bush has given tax breaks to the wealthiest American's for 8 years so that they can re-distribute and trickle down their wealth to the rest of us low and middle class workers. Taxes are inevitable, a necessary evil. And under Obama's plan, most families WILL recieve a tax benefit nearly $700 more a year than will McCain's.

8) I do not think that one party rule is a good thing - I believe in checks & balances, and I think that one of the most concerning things is having a president and congress of the same party. However, I DO believe, that when you have some of that hope and inspiration you think Obama is only good for - you can cross party lines and unite instead of divide by working towards a common purpose. I believe that the common purpose is a better America - and I believe America is ready for that. I also believe that the bailout package and the purchasing of AIG was a huge mistake with little foresight - talk about big government? McCain wants to assume the bad housing loans...it's just more of the same.

9) I believe in the global community. I believe that we need to look outside sometimes to see how we are percieved. I think we must stop being a bully. I believe we must talk to our enemies.
10) I believe that the war in Iraq was a horrible mistake. I unequivocably support the troops that are there and that we must make sure they are taken care of (again, by the government) when they return. I believe that real problems exist in Afganhistan and that we must take actionable steps to prevent another war.

11) I don't want another President who goes off half-cocked each and every time there is a crisis. I believe that is what John McCain or, God help me, Sarah Palin would do. I do not feel like either of these people are true "leaders." I have grown tired of the incessent stupidity under the current administration and can only see the same writing on the wall under McCain and his sideshow choice of a VP.

12) I believe that people should go out and get a job instead of making me pay for their abuse of the system. But what incentive do they have now when if they abuse the system they end up walking away with money in their pocket and free medical coverage that I'm paying anyway? What incentive do people have when minimum wage is barely liveable, when healthcare is hardly attainable, and when quite a lot of the jobs that were once available have have been shipped to China, India, or Mexico?

13) I believe that you have the right to disagree with me, and that we will never see eye-to-eye on most of the things you list below. That's the beauty of being an American.That's the beauty of the 15th AND 19th amendment.

14) I believe that my beliefs come down to more than just being an "Obama chanting robot." Do I believe he will deliver everything he promises? No. Do I believe he's going to turn us into socialists or communists because he said "spread the wealth"? No. Do I believe the United States will be better off under John McCain and more of the same Bushenomics and Washington insider BS? No. Do I believe Obama has the power to inspire people? Yes. Do I believe that he is a better choice based on MY beliefs? Yes.

I practically minored in Thomas Jefferson and am quite familiar with the reasons and ways upon which this country was founded. I believe that, as Jefferson once stated, "a little revolution now and then is a good thing..." I believe that everyone has the right to challenge their government - and should. And no, Jefferson would not be a democrat, and no he didn't believe in big government. And that's okay for me, too. Jefferson also believed that you have to test the system, and that not everything written in the constitution should be upheld for 200 years...or that this country wouldn't have a radically different constitution 200 years later than it was drafted. He also didn't eliminate slavery, rather left it ambiguous, which I'm quite certain has had more of a lasting effect on this country than just about anything. He was a knowledgeable man who knew he wasn't perfect. He was also a leader, a quiet thinker, but one who people listened to--and listened to so much so that they let him draft a declaration of independence! He was someone who people trusted and who thought would leave them in a better place than they were in. He inspired conversation, and thought, and encouraged people to not always agree. And what if all people in 1776 thought he was just full of "hope and inspiration" and little substance? Where would we be? What if those people never took the leap of faith against England? Did they have hope for a better America? Were they inspired to be something more than they were???

Yes.

You see, mom, just like you, I believe in possibility of a great America, in un-yielding hope to be better, and in a need for change of the establishment. Just like you, I believe that there must be a different path for this country than the one we've been on for the last 4+ years. You've stated your case and I've stated mine, you've done your research and you've made your choice. We don't have to agree on the platforms and I don't expect you to change your mind tonight. But as a child of a woman who raised you from "the system," and the mother to one daughter who would benefit from stem cell research and universal healthcare and another daughter who is likely to one day pay Obama's income taxes - and both who could potentially have to choose between their life and the life of an unborn baby, it just surprises me that as a woman you will vote for another white man who will do nothing to raise your income even though you work just as hard -- or harder -- than that of most men in your position.

I believe you have a choice tomorrow and I have mine - and while I appreciate your best efforts to convert me, I have my own beliefs which are firmly rooted in an opposing category.

That's why I look forward to casting my vote tomorrow, that's why I will be a nervous wreck until the winner is announced, and that's why I support Barack Obama.


Love you,
N.A.T.

Long Time Gone

You already know that I'm a crappy blogger. But I have to reiterate just how crappy I am. See, I'm the crappiest because there has been SO much to blog about in the last, I don't know, 2 months.

For starters, I moved. Same building, but 17 floors higher, to a completely fabulous penthouse apartment. Finally out of a 700-square foot hotel suite, to a SWEET 1500 square feet of Northern Virginia's finest. Now when I go home, I don't look at a building across the street, I look at the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains, Dulles Airport, and a large portion of Loudon County, Virgina. It's proven to be quite the party pad, and I look forward to coming home each and every day to "my happy place" on top of the world. Oh yeah, I moved in with the FBF, too.

The other exciting news of the past few weeks is that I went to Beantown and met all 5 New Kids on the Block. As thirty-somethings mildly in shock that we had actually paid money to humiliate ourselves, Slimy, E, and I stood outside Boston Garden waiting for our "All Access" pass to the beloved heros of our youth. Once the doors opened, we were led to a bar-type area where we would wait while consuming free wine (well, Slimy had water), snacks, for the guys to appear. Recognized asshat bodyguard, Robo, who was still as big of a schmuck as he was in 1990. Heard asshat bodyguard give best bone-chilling-teenage-loving quote ever: "If you're hear now, you've earned the right to be more then just a fan --you are now considered family." Good one. Made the room fill with a super shrill inducing scream, and just like that the shorter than I ever imagined NK came in. They were like 15 feet from us, and still freaking HOT. Mind you, they are in their late 30's/early 40's and yet somehow even better looking than the baby-faces I remember so well.

Being the goodie goodies that we are, none of us brought cameras for fear of breaking "the rules" and getting caught. The one picture I did take on my camera was a lovely juxtaposition of old '89 Teen Beat posters (Slimy) and a recent copy of Parents magazine. So, the only proof of our historic pilgrammage is contained on the 95 grainy images that I took on my CrackBerry. I spent 3 years of my life stalking, and dreaming of this moment, and you're telling me that at 31+ I wuss out and don't take a camera??? Seriously.

We lined up in alphabetical groups, and somehow I was first in ours - and first to meet all 5. It was weird. Did I mention how short they all are. I can't believe I paid $350 and didn't even think of anything creative to say. "Good to meet you," is clearly, not what I should have said. But nothing witty, nothing fun. "Thanks for coming back," is what 3, maybe 4, of them heard and seriously, how fucktarded is that. 20 years of my NK loving life, and I couldn't even come up with anything fun to say.

The 3 of us decided that we had done pretty well for ourselves. We are attractive, well-educated (come on people, I was there with two doctors for God sake), and successful. Let's just say the others in our "group" were, based on appearance only, um, not. There was a whole 'lotta hoochie mamaness, bad teeth, bad hair, and bad outfits flowing. I'll stop there because my mother is going to read this and tell me I shouldn't be so mean, critical, and arrogant. Hi mom. I can't help it, I judge people on appearances and I know it's wrong, but I do it and I'm sure it's at the bottom of the "why I'm going to hell" list. Bygones.

We had 4th row seats. And there is nothing I can say about this except that wow, it was FREAKING FANTASTIC. Best concert I've ever been too - so fun, so energizing, so completely amazing. It was exactly what I said when I heard they would be reuniting. It was exactly the same feeling I had when I was14, only this time my feet ached from those damn boots, my best friend was pregnant and dancing on a chair, and I went to a NKOTB concert and had beer & wine. Oh and our mom's weren't with us.

We recieved backstage passes - which we waited and waited and waited around for after the show but finally gave up after it became clear they weren't coming out. No biggie - I am sure I looked like Captain Insano by that time, and besides the best had already been.

It was one of those moments that will burn in my memory for all my years to come, and I wouldn't have had it any other way.

I even got to go to another concert later in the week in DC, most unexpectadly, but certainly awesome as well, thanks to Kimmie. I can't tell you how good it felt to swing my hand in the air and wave it like I just didn't care in a sea of middle aged women and our love for those five boys from Boston for the second time in the same week.

For a moment I felt like I might just become a certified groupie and quit my job so I could join the tour.

When I got home, I asked the FBF if he'd mind my little change of plan. He said he didn't care as long as I could send a few groupies home for him and enough cash to pay the rent.

Hmmmm...if you've seen where I live, I think you'd agree that maybe it's better to just take the memories. ;-)

Changing Colors

It's getting to be that time again, where fall seems to be filling the air. The smell of leaves, the fires burning in the distance, the crisp cool air, and the days that seem too short to bear. I love fall, and it is not quite here -- but it's coming, and I am so glad. But, each time that air changes and with each leave that reddens, it makes me miss Lexington all the more. There is no greater place to be, in my opinion, than my beloved former hometown in the fall.

I still remember the way September felt - warm, with some of the best sunshine you would find in the year. It's the time when students started to find their groove, traffic made you pull your hair out, and the air was still hot enough to make you curse. It was the time of year where I was the busiest, preparing for that annual conference that made me lose sleep and peace of mind, the month when I could swear the Hobbit House felt like an oven. It was the month you were forever changed when those planes hit the World Trade Center, Pentagon, and that field in Pennsylvania. The month you got an EKG and the month you started your job at that beloved company you used to call yours. It was September that you could love because it ushered in all that the next few months would bring, but the month you inadvertently loathed because in so many ways it always felt like hell.

As the last days of the September summer melted away, Lexington prepared for her finest month of the year, October. Glorious October. It was the time where you looked forward to Keeneland and UK football, tailgating at Commonwealth with a wealth of your friends. Where you would hear "first down Kentucky!" over the loud speakers from the open windows of your bedroom, and the month where you would walk by Henry Clay's house and let Abby run in the fallen leaves. It was the month when sweaters made their annual debut and the time of year that you were finally able to start making soup again without being asphyxiated by the heat of your dome shaped kitchen. It was everything in the rain and the sun, the warmth and the cold, the way the days looked, the air smelled, and the nights when the stars were at their best. October was the month you moved into your first apartment, the month you started dating again, the month your heart melted, and the month when you always felt most alive.

And as you lived in that familiar fall bliss, October's grasp would loosen and the cold air would sweep in and give way to November. November, when you knew fall was in its prime and there was no trace of the warmth of the sun that shone so brightly only weeks before. It was November when you would walk to your car and shiver for the first time. There, when the crisp, cold mornings left frost on the pumpkins and where everywhere you turned you instantly had a craving for Uncle Chuck's turkey and dressing. It's November when your Saturday's were spent at Shamrock's, watching football in a favorite sweatshirt, protected from the cold...the place where your stomach would tie up in knots on the third Saturday of the month when The Ohio State University ritualistically played that team up North. It was those days of Irish Nachos, Miller Lite, and phone calls to Columbus to savor the exictement and pride you'd feel when they beat those Wolverines. It is November that you remember to be the month that your heart was stolen via text message. It will always sadly be the month where your greatest champion's days came to an end, with you standing beside her, hand-in-hand for her final moments and last falling tear. It's the month where you've never felt more numb because of the sadness that came from losing her.

I feel all of that now, each time I step outside and smell the air and see the signs pointing to fall.

Remembering with rock-solid affinity, and unyielding certainty that each year the calendar turns it's page, no matter where I lay my head, I will close my eyes and be transported in an instant to the life I lived and loved in Lexington.

Transported back to the magnificent ease that was.

When You Need To Be Reminded of a Miracle

Here are two.

The Quote I Found In Paris

It spoke volumes to me. I could probably write an entire post on this, but perhaps will save that for days meant for remembering.

159 Days And Counting

He looks quite proud of himself for being a total flippin' moron.

perezhilton.com

Il y a longtemps que je t'aime

Whenever I go on a trip I can't help but get nostalgic.

It's almost as if the waiting in the terminal to depart, the hours seated next to a smelly teenage boy 40,000 feet above the earth, and the inevitable exhaustion that is soon to set in, brings out my most sentimental side. Just as much as the tangible rituals play out, the sentiment for my former travels seem to have their way with me as well. For example, in the couple of times I've flown through the big ATL this year, I get this inexplicable teary sentiment that I just can't help from welling up in my eyes, and in my heart. I find myself playing over and over the dozens of trips that passed me through its gates during my 14-year tenure in Lexington. I never loved that airport or Delta so much as when I no longer knew their familiarity. Maybe it's something about the journey I have been on the last 31-years, or maybe it's the solitude in the eyes of all those strangers. Whatever it is, the bittersweet nostalgia never fails to grip my heart.

Leaving for Paris was no different. It came upon me in the remembrance of the times before that had come and gone, the sadness and the hope I had felt at different times when I returned to her open arms.

I always remember the way it felt the first time, like being a fish out of water, tongue tied and girlishly shy, the time in which it should have most been a ride on a cloud. Instead, it was the time that felt the most heavy, the most laborious, just days after marrying the husband formerly known as mine. Just as we walked around her streets, and navigated through the unfamiliar, it was those days spent in the city I'd always wanted to be in when I think I first realized I had made a terrible mistake. That's what Paris felt like the first time.


When I returned to her four years later, almost to the day, I went towards her with the eyes of a broken spirited woman, glad for the solitude, scared of the inevitable reminder. I remember that the moment I touched down I felt the relief that comes from independence and of reinvention. I know that I re-entered that magnificent city with eyes ready to be opened, sadness ready to be lifted, I was ready for something great to happen. What it gave me was an opportunity to make a friend, and to be apart of an international business community for the first time. The remnants of that journey left me with people I call my friends, one in particular who four years later I can still laugh with delicious ease, and smoke cigarettes and drink champagne with on the Champs Elysee.

The third time is the time when I returned and was healed from all the scars and all the pain of the past. Somewhere in those beautiful days of March I finally learned that I still had a heart. It was that time that I looked forward to Paris the most, because it meant spending a few days with one of the most important and influential person I have ever come to know. It was our shared sadness and the secrets behind our eyes that in the months before our last meeting had formed a bond so tight I'm quite sure it can never be broken. It was he, who held the keys to a journey of the most amazing sort, who taught me how to follow my dreams, and how to see the world through eyes wide open. It was he who I fell in love with at the base of the Eiffel Tower, and who to this day doesn't understand that it's because of him that I had the courage to be here.

When you have taken certain journeys, no matter the sort, there is always one that you know leads you home. It was this time when I stepped off that plane and into the arms of the man I call my best friend, my souls perfect mate, my love, I knew that I had finally come home. It was there in my favorite city that she lured me ever closer to her with a sublime and perfect ease, a blatant familiarity, a contentment like I had never known--welcoming me in a way unlike any of the times before. It was this time that magnificence of the Eiffel Tower sealed a bond, where I looked in his eyes and knew there was no other place I would rather be than right there in his arms, in his city, or in any city as long as he was there. It was there in Paris where we made memories walking along the Seine, took a nap on the grass, ate at his favorite (the most unlikely and amazing) restaurant, binged on croissants, and dreamt of days still to come. It was the fourth time that I went to Paris when I learned the journey is really only beginning and where I left the ghosts of the past only to whisper in the shadows.

For it was this time that this dreamer of a girl awoke into a perfect reality of what Paris is, what it should be, and all that it has yet to become.

Why Summers Aren't Made For Blogging and Why Paying Attention During Those 9 Years Of French Class Might Have Been A Good Idea

Well kids, its that time again when the N.A.T. goes on her merry way and gallivants in countries far and wide. This time the FBF and I are returning to his Motherland (well, he's already been there for something ridiculous like 8 days or something poor guy...everyone feel sorry for him now by joining me in a completely unsympathetic waaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh). Anyway, I leave on Thursday and will be joining him in my favorite city for the weekend. No, sillies. Not LexVegas, not even Columbus, and not DC. Guess that means my favorite city across the Atlantic, the most wonderfully romantic and delicious place of all...yes, I'm going again. I AM SO FREAKING LUCKY!

It's been a year and a half since the last time I stood in the City of Lights, and its been beckoning me ever since. The first time I went to Paris, I went with a man I had just married but never really loved. The second time, I had just left that man, and I went alone but made a friend. The third time, I went with a man who taught me to live again and who showed me how a city can make even the most deadened heart fall in love. The fourth time, I think I will see Paris with brand new eyes. Because this time, when I arrive I will be with my best friend and my soul's perfect mate...I think it will be more than I have ever known it to be.

On Sunday we'll head to new territory for both of us and we'll explore BarTHAlona for a few days. I'm pretty much looking forward to swimming in the Mediterranean and drinking Sangria. The FBF will probably have me on 20-hour a day tours because vacations were not meant for rest, but made to explore endlessly until you're so tired you beg to go back to work. He is a man made after my mother's own heart. She's the only other person who turns into more of a slave driver away from real life than he does. Oy. So after he's made me a certifiable BarTHAlona tour guide, we'll head a couple hours East, to a small town on the Southern coast of France to visit FBF's parents. This is why I should have paid attention to the grammar Madame Brill tried to beat into my drunken brain at GC. It's times like these when it MIGHT HAVE COME IN HANDY! I'll just probably spend a lot of time saying "oui," "merci," and "cette une probleme," because that's about all I remember at this point. The nerves are really unsettling. Wine usually helps that.

So, I am pretty sure I won't be blogging before I go. Most likely not while I'm there (unless to shamelessly gloat about how great my life is at that precise moment in sweet vacation bliss), and probably a few days after I get back and well, given my current blogging habits, probably not before I manage to buy a house - which in my situation will likely be never. Oh, I pulled the offer off of the green monster. It'd been 3.5 months. It was just time to be done with it. When I get back, the FBF and I will look for a place to live. Maybe somewhere swanky for a year or so. Like, somewhere above the 2nd floor of a deluxe apartment in the skkkyyyyy. Hell yeah, we're movin' on up. You know I finally got a piece of the piiiiiieeeehhhhhaaahhhhh.

This is why I need a vacation.

Witty rhymes just aren't that cute unless you're in my tired twisted brain to enjoy them.

Until I'm back again, remember to put your kids in a foreign language class early!

Mucho love-o from BarTHAlona! A bientot from Paris!

Cheers friends,
N

Checked Out

But I probably need to check-in somewhere. Somewhere where the candle doesn't burn at both ends, and where a heavy dose of sleep is a must. I've not only been a bad blogger, I've been a bad friend, and a bad daughter, and sister, dog mother, and well you get the point.

It's pretty much been the crux of hell for me at work lately. Yeah, okay, I had a five-day hiatus where I took time off to go to the every-three-years family reunion in New Hampshire and spend a few days in Quebec with the whole family. Somehow, it didn't feel like a vacation and I came back exhausted and apathetic - only to bust my rear getting ready for an impending sales event that left me in Miami for the better part of last week and weekend. Miami is great. When you're not on your A game for 17-hours a day. When you are, and when you times that by 5, you not only get perspective on the number of alcohol units your colleagues forced you to consume, but the number of hours you are deficient in sleep, and the number of times you think to yourself, God, I just wish I could take a break. I am so tired right now I don't know what to think. I've also been working on budgets, revisions of budgets, cutting more just a weeeeeee bit more, and then a weeeeeee bit more again, while intermitently training a new employee who was here for just 2 days before I set her out to conquer an entire worldly region on her own. SHEESH.

Also, I don't mean to be redundant, but it was 3 months ago today that I put an offer on the townhouse I will begrudgingly refer to as "the green monster." And the answer would still be NO, I still don't know if that damn house is coming to mama or not. Freaking bastards. There is no joy left.

I'm tired and I'm neglectful of all of my most favorite people and I swear, I wasn't always this bad of a friend. I don't think I was, anyway? Oy. I don't even know anymore.

because i need you to know

rebekah and gavin,

you are two people, cut from the same cloth, who are the greatest blessings in my life. i think of you every day and i wish that we were closer in the number of miles between us. i love watching you as gavin's mother, and i could have never expected to fall in love with anyone the way i've fallen for him. seeing you this past week, and talking with you on saturday...i don't know why i haven't told you more often how wonderful you are and how much i love you. i am with you in every step of your journey...

FBF,

thank you for being my best friend, and for loving me the way i was meant to be loved. i am so thankful for the last six months, and for the day you unsuspectingly walked into my life (even though you dressed like you were 45). you make my heart overflow with love and joy and happiness and high-maintenanceness and princessness. thank you for knowing me like i know me, for your stupid nervous laugh, and for those damn dragons. you are my balance and my center of gravity. i can't wait for paris, for barcelona, and for all the places our dreams will take us. bisous mon bubba.

I Think About You In The Summertime

I don't know if it's hot where you are, but damn, it's hot here.

You know the kind of hot that takes your breath away, the sweltering humidity that fills your lungs with a thick heaviness that leaves you feeling like you've gained 20 pounds within an instant. It's the kind of hot that makes you want to avoid going outside, ever. Where lemonade and iced tea become more of a remedy than an icon of the South, where sweat develops in places you never knew it could, and where the sun feels like it's going to burn your skin right off your body.

Summer has arrived with a fierceness usually reserved for July or August, not early June. Alas, it must have been my expressed thankfulness for the unusually cool, unusually long spring that ushered in the beast. A reminder that perfection is never long achieved.

Funny how her arrival always triggers the same faded memories. Kate wrote about it, so I know I'm not the only one who feels it. But feel it, I do.

I drew pause as well this weekend while at a local farmers market, and then sitting beside a pool for relief. For the first time in as long as I could remember, I ate strawberries that tasted like strawberries. They smelled and tasted as sweet and as familiar as childhood. The pool with it's chlorine and oily suntan lotion film, felt like the same cool water I dove into summer after summer all those years before. The blanket of heat, the thickness of the air, wrapped around me so tightly this time. It's made me yearn for days gone by, for simplicity, and for the heaven that is 12-weeks off in a row. Ah, the forgotten vacation...where in my youth the only thing I had to care about was whose house to play at and who to play with. Then the summers where I was minimally tasked with stalking certain boybands and determining the precise time Slimy and I would begin our day of shopping and eating at McDonald's. And finally, by those too few precious summers spent in freedom, scattered around Columbus landmarks with the "Biddy Posse" and the boys who stole our hearts.

Yes, the summer is unofficially here.

How I long for a vacation, for a reprieve of responsibility, for lazy days that stretch on into the weeeeeeee hours of the night. It seems that summer sweetness has triggered something in me that makes me miss my friends like crazy right now. A feeling reminicent of the last day of the college semester where we'd have to say goodbye to the comfort of each other, and go home to our different towns and cities for a few months, inevitably, alone. Today, I wish for nothing more than to be with the four of you, again. Somewhere in a place where the summer holds us tight...sitting around an umbrellaed table, laughing, swapping stories of our lives, reminiscing about the people we used to be, blissfully unaware of all we have become. Sitting here today, longing to be collectively together with you again, on the beach, this time as better prepared 30-somethings, all in different places, some in different stages, just happy to be as we are, just thankful to be together.

Summertime, where pilgrimages to New England with Nana & Johnny were the norm, and the Kangamangus Highway meant swimming in cold, crystal clear water...where I can still see the green and feel the thickness of my Grandparent's well-manicured lawn and feel the sway of the Olentangy bridge to Whetstone Park on the 4th of July...Simple, peaceful, wonderful summertime.

For today, I just wish it was a little less "summer," and that we all might have (had) a little more time.

Did It Sneak Up On Yours?

Happy Friday. I'll try to get off my giant ass soon, and update this here blog of mine more regularly than it seems I have been. Right now I'm thinking that I need to end this hellaciously long week with a nice cold draft beer. That's all I'm thinking right now. Nothing else, except the fact that I am still waiting to hear about a house. Bygones. More reason to have 2 draft beers instead of just one. BUT NOT FROM THE COMFORT OF MY OWN PATIO. There I said it. I can go now.

Cheers,
NS

All That I Wished For, More Than I Need, Right Where I Want To Be

It was one year ago today that I said goodbye to that beloved employer. The day I mostly spent in a hot apartment, crazed and overwhelmed as two Russian immigrants begrudgingly packed my stuff into the back of Penske moving truck. No one could have prepared them for the stairs up and down to the Hobbit house. Three, or was it four, were there, to share a last lunch with me. Domino's pepperoni pizza, and a 20 oz. Coke. Standing in that small kitchen, sharing what would be the last of our daily ritual I had come to cherish so much. It was so hot on that day...Twenty degrees or more than it is as I write this. It was the day of the last happy hour at the place they knew my order upon arrival. The last time I would be surrounded by the colleagues I had come to call my friends and the wives who joined them. The night where the tears would follow and minutes would pass too soon. That farewell hug from English Andy, the smile and laughter of Steve-O's wife, the Chocolate Martini that Michelle always ordered. Saying goodbye to J.P., and even the Beej. It was there in that place, that I stood in the presence of so many people who a year later I can only help but wonder if they still think of me. I spoke with the husband-formerly-known-as-mine that evening. Telling him that in the morning I would be leaving, that it was finally time for me to follow my dreams. The conversation, just as the thousands before, went from pleasant to accusatory before all was said and done. Unable to be spoiled, it was a night that would go down in true N.A.T. fashion. An impromptu party on Amer's deck, in the house I shared in the first few month's of my fleeing. Nan. J.D., the boss who became my friend, K.L. who brought us 46 Taco's. We partied hard, and we partied well into the night. I still remember, even in my intoxicated haze, the way the sky looked and the way Lexington held on to me one last time.

I arrived in Northern Virginia on May 24, 2007 and in the year that has now come to pass I have had a million moments that look suspiciously like an ordinary life...however, this year has been anything but ordinary.

I learned how to be nothing but who I am, and to be it well. I grew more than I can ever try to convince you to believe. I cried, a lot. I fulfilled a dream. I did it, mostly, by myself. I started to heal, and finally to let it go. I had hard conversations, confronted the past, and took steps to forgive, to be forgiven, and to move forward - a direction that I now realize is so much better suited for me. I felt the wind around me, the sunshine on my face, the smell of the earth, and the wetness that is the rain. I felt alive again. I drank a million bottles of Shiraz, smoked seven million cigarettes, and tried to piece it all together. I took a lot of baths, on Sunday's, in a tub filled with lavender. I read. I watched movies. I longed to go home. Longed for friendly faces, for laughter, for understanding. I lost tens of thousands of dollars by four freaking weeks. I visited a best friend in the hospital when she had her daughter, and celebrated her son's birthday. I got to know my cousins who I now call my friends. I walked around the same block twice a day for 364 days. I made a friend. I received flowers, in abundance, for my birthday. I met a Frenchman who became my best friend. I joined the dub dub, again. I enjoyed being 45-minutes from Perfectville. I got swept off my feet. Fell madly in love. Rode a bike. 17. Freaking. Miles. I ate well. I made more money than I ever thought I would. Visited 100+ townhouses, made 4 offers, and continue to wait for one of them to be mine. I shopped at Trader Joe's, and bought great cheeses, $3 wine, and found the world's most perfect yogurt. I enjoyed the company of my parents, in my hometown, on multiple occasions. I took a road trip to Columbus, and fell in love with him even more. I smiled. I smiled. I smiled. I talked politics and became a champion of Obama, trying to convince anyone who will give me a chance to feel the same. I walked the Mall on a crisp night in November. I reconnected with college friends. I dreamt of worldly travels. I went to LexVegas, three times. Went to Keeneland, and laughed with my twin souls. I went to the Zoo and was told of TL's arrival. I went to Cancun and talked about CC's arrival. I went to work on the anniversary of my grandmother's death and learned Elizabeth had given me a new reason to smile on an otherwise hard day. I rejoiced for their births, and for the women my best friends had become. I became an aunt. I witnessed true selflessness. I cried. I cried. I cried. I had weird and haunting dreams. I reconnected with friends long since lost, via Facebook, and felt life coming full circle. I learned to stop listening to the fear, and to start listening to the the Peace. I witnessed the miracle that is the NKOTB reunion. I counted my blessings. I said an abundance of prayers. I quit smoking, mostly. I got promoted. I was given a second chance at a happy life. I learned who the other woman was. In a roundabout kinda sorta way became the other woman. I witnessed the celebration of two women who committed to each other to live a happy life, to be each other's partner, in good times and in bad. I let memories live in the past, instead of ruling the present. I said I was sorry. I witnessed my sister fulfil her destiny. I didn't go to Europe. I accepted reality. I let myself be happy. I heard the sound of my nephew's cries, I saw his face, I became perpetually starved for more. I believed, again, in true miracles. I started living a life better than I ever thought possible, one with a fantastic man standing with me, arm around me tight to share our journey towards the unknown. I began to live a life fully of laughter, with a bounty of hope, with dreams that are reality, and one most definitely destined for a fairytale ending.

I don't regret any of it.

This year has been anything but ordinary. It's been a year where everything was renewed. Where the fantastic did happen. A date on a calendar that is now an anniversary I will always cherish, that I will forever celebrate. The year where I lived. The year that I laughed.

The year that above all, I finally learned to love myself.