I’m sorry for the delay in blogging. I actually wrote a pre-Christmas blog about a week ago, but the draft was lost and I’m too lazy to come up with that material again.
Call it post-Christmas-trauma disorder.
In reality, my Christmas went well. I’m too poor to purchase a Christmas tree and space wouldn’t allow it if I had the $90 to fork over for plastic cinders. I improvised by re-purposing a vase of plastic daisies. Brendan provided the homemade ornaments. And just to make it even more authentic, I took one of my many couple-less socks and used it as a stocking. Here’s the evidence:
All those presents are unfortunately not for me. I ended up stuffing everyone’s stocking:
Dad-newest XRT cd
Melanie (step mom)- Elvis wine holder
Mom- tickets to see Million Dollar Quartet
Grandma- new outdoor thermometer
Aunt P- a personalized dessert carrier
Aunt J- a pajama set and a hand knitted scarf
Niece- gift card for target, bonnie bell lip smackers, and an Angel necklace
Nephew- two onesies and some diapers (what more does a 5 month old need?)
In return, I ended up getting:
-4 sweaters and a corduroy coat (mom)
– hoop necklace (mom)
– A new metal bed frame (aunts)
– Mattress cover, pad, and pillow topper (aunts)
– Easel and paint set (aunts)
– Two pairs of boots that didn’t fit (aunts)… they are getting returned and replaced by new running pants and a new Nike hookup for my running shoes
– Large pots and pans set (dad and Melanie)
– New silverware (dad and Melanie)
What about darling boyfriend? Well, we decided to save money and make gifts for each other. I made him a tie-dye tshirt and painted a picture frame to match. He gave me an entire cd worth of songs from our relationship, but instead of it being the original artist, it’s actually him singing and playing all the parts! He also played Santa and stuffed my stocking (ha!) with candy and a new candle.
Of course, Christmas wasn’t without drama. This one, while sort of not unexpected, knocked everyone out. Instead of being a fight between who’s gift was better or which Christmas we would attend, this year’s Christmas woe was full of fear, tears, and unbelievable anger and regret. I really, really wish I could blog about it here. I have so much to say, so much anger and sadness to express that it seems unfair that I cant just come out and say what happened. My nightmares over that night have not ceased, and every day, the confusion and guilt have just increased to a boiling point.
This is not what Christmas is supposed to be. And frankly, I will never forget this Christmas night, that phone call, or the events leading up to it. I cant imagine the next couple of years not having that scar on it.
Anyways, I was blessed to have the happy moments I did. I am blessed by an amazingly resilient and giving family. And to the friend who texted me throughout the night and day, thank you. The same goes to the boyfriend who tried his best to comfort me and to make my Christmas as normal as possible.
I’ve been without a solid support group since I’ve moved to the city. My friendships have been dwindling to a precious few I can count on to have a complete conversation with. And in times like this, you understand how much you have and how much you miss. But that’s part of being an adult. There’s no tree back at home waiting for you to be decorated. There are no line of friends waiting to hold you or willing to drop their lives to see you. And there is certainly not a real Santa around to eat your cookies and leave you the mass amount of things you need for the apartment.
This is growing up. I’m glad to be at this part of my life because: “Try as we might, happy as we were, we can never go back.”
And now, because this became a complete bummer of a post… ADORABLE CHILDREN! (credit goes to my brother’s girlfriend and my sister since I was without a camera):
Everyone these days is blogging about bucket lists and life goals. On Sparkpeople, a blogger friend even made her top 10 list and went through them one by one over a three month period. Another blogger finally saved up enough to buy her plane ticket to Alaska. And a third, got a Star Wars tattoo.
I’ve posted life goal lists on past blogs before. From what I’ve gathered, I’ve managed to accomplish:
- Graduate with a degree in music
- Be in a relationship longer than one year
- Travel to Europe
- Win a speech team event
- Live in my own apartment in the city
- Buy a car
- Learn guitar (sort of in the process)
- Perform professionally
- Get an A in clarinet juries
- Teach music at a school
- Get health insurance… seriously
- Run a 5K
- Take a dance class
- Sell some art work
- Pay off my credit cards (they were paid off for three months!)
All in all, I’m doing great. There are still some major ones to be done- like get married, have a family, backpack South America (or just visit Buenos Aires), and see a World Cup game.
I was once told that the best thing to ever come out of Buenos Aires was the musical Evita. I then threw up a bit.
But my biggest goal on the unfinished, but working on it, list is to run a full marathon by the time I’m 30 (preferably at 25-26).
All of my life, I’ve hated running. I was always the slowest mile runner during the dreaded Presidential Fitness Tests, and I took a lot of flack for it. Seriously, gym class for an overweight pre-teen can scar a girl for life- so much so that I do have a bit of anxiety whenever I run in public for fear of being too slow.
But even at 10-11-12, I wanted to be a distance runner. I wanted to be the girl on cross country (Sue Heck, anyone?) with the long skinny legs in the shifty running shorts. In the winter, I wanted to go on polar bear runs in lycra while gliding across the ice I usually fell on. Even with all this “want,” I was always to insecure to make myself go out and actually run.
When I started college, I realized that I would have to commit myself to fitness because my body was certainly not going to tolerate the limited food choices of the EC cafeteria and the self-hibernation I had put myself through. I joined a gym and started to walk more and more, eventually adding hills and fast walking intervals. Soon after, I discovered C25K, which led me to run my very first 5K right after I graduated. My time was nothing to write about, but it was a dream come true either way.
I stopped running when I moved to my last suburban stop. I gave every excuse in the book why I wouldn’t bring myself to keep plugging outdoors. And that hiatus lasted until September of this year when I began to run again. My goal to run an outlandish 26.2 miles didn’t really pop up until read a blog about a girl who ran her first marathon. For some reason, it hit me that this is what I want to do.
I want to fully understand that my body can do amazing things and perservere through winter weather, aches and pains, hills and potholes. I want to see how far I can physically and mentally push myself to overcome any past anxiety I may have in regards to running. And I want to know that I accomplished something that only a few people have and can.
So every day, I am preparing myself for that future marathon. Tuesdays, Thursdays, Saturdays, and Sundays are spent at the gym running intervals or testing out my newest distance. Or I’m cross training with spin bikes and ski machines. I’m following strength training programs specifically for endurance running. On my days off, I do yoga and pilates to tone and stretch muscles I haven’t seen since I was 14 or I’m working on my core strength. Every day, I’m working on preparing myself for 26.2 miles of war on my body.
I see that so many people posts lists of things they want to do or accomplish, but I’ve learned that if you are not actively working on your dreams, then what is the point? Nothing in your life is holding you back from making it a reality. If you want to go to Japan to see the blossoms, save up your money and buy a Japanese language book. If you want to sky dive, buy the damn groupon. And if you want to run a marathon, train like you can run a marathon.