it’s true: when you’re all grown up, birthdays tend to be an entirely different animal than when you were a child. i do it, too: self-analysis of the past year, lamentation at another 365 days of my life that i will never have back. sometimes this leads to criticism of my choices, anger at my failures, and disappointments at my lack of progression. i know what it’s like to go down that path – and that’s not entirely a bad thing (self-examination for the sake of improvement rarely is). but on birthdays, i try really hard to remember what it felt like when i was a child. it was a celebration – it was most of the people you love coming together and giving thanks for your presence in this life. we must do that; and in doing so, i think we must pause and give thanks for what we have accomplished, for what we do have, instead of settling into the negatives. that is what a birthday is to me.

i think of this now because tomorrow is my sister’s birthday. i remember her blog post last year, considering these things, and i recently re-read the comment i left as a result. it said, in part:

"nothing is ever close to perfect. aiming for perfection will just make it even more difficult to appreciate all of the wonderful things that already exist in our lives. you have so much to be grateful for — so many successes; you are loved by many, you are a unique, smart, beautiful, and interesting person. and you are stronger than you know. please don’t think of this time as a darkness before the dawn — this is your life, and even if its not what you thought you wanted, it’s beautiful in its own way.

this birthday should be a celebration of all of these things; of life’s imperfections and the silly idea that we humans sometimes entertain when we think that what we have is not absolutely precious just as it is."

i can’t think of a better way to say it. and so, to heather on your birthday tomorrow, remember this: you are loved, you are special; you are vital to my life and the lives of many others. i hope today is nothing short of beautiful for you; and i hope the coming year contains magic and happiness, and lots of the things you want and maybe a few things you didn’t even know you needed. <3

it's time for an update.

i have been going to doctors appointments each week for the better part of two months. i know each magazine they have sitting on their coffee table, i know that their beta fish tend to look remarkably unhappy in their tanks, and i know it will always smell like chlorine from a swimming pool when i enter their suite. i know they'll take blood and complain that my veins are deep like that's something i should feel guilty for, and i know they'll poke and prod and do their best to help me. i'm trying to feel grateful for their services, but it's such a drain and i can't help but feel glad that i have a vacation coming up.

ah yes, vacation. the only good thing about time flying as quickly as it has been is that it's already on the horizon. two weeks of freedom. since i've had all these medical appointments messing up my already hectic schedule, i feel like i am perpetually behind. no matter how much i work at home to try and catch up, the next day it's like that didn't even happen. so i need a break - badly.

vacation is in july, and then august is full of tori goodness. heather and i are seeing her in d.c. and then a couple weeks later marc is joining us for her second to last u.s. date in philadelphia. yes!

it's going to be a great summer - i know it. i'll be documenting it on my flickr page - check out the photos on my sidebar if you're interested in the photographic evidence.

and the crazy schedule and blood draws and late days are all worth it.

that's my life right now, for better or worse.

i find it extremely amusing when guys end phone conversations with "peace." you were probably just discussing something very mundane, but you end it all with something so profound and worldly for us to chew over for the rest of the day.

maybe they're onto something with this - maybe the end of all conversations should be your own personal hope for the future of the world.
i think for now on i'll go with "please spay or neuter or your pet."

i'll get right down to it: i haven't been writing in here much lately not for lack of thoughts, but for lack of interest in sharing them via the internet. for the first time in over a year i've taken to writing in an actual journal - you may remember those - you can actually feel them in your hands. it's so odd. for the longest time that was all i ever used, and then for years i was able to balance using this and that. eventually though i backed off on the hard copy and nestled into this. now i'm not sure what i'm doing.

that's my general theme right now: what am i doing? no, really, what? i'm having a hard time finding the balance between my professional and personal lives. i have so much emotional drama going on personally that it's starting to leak into work, and i loathe that. just yesterday i was in my friend's office and by the time i left 30 minutes later, we had both cried. i cannot stand being that vulnerable in such a public place - i feel like a wounded antelope walking past a pride of lions.

there's no end in sight to the state of potential or actual flux, either. it's my new constant. it's one of the more challenging times of my life and as always during times like this, i can only hope that i'll come out on the other side feeling as much pride in having done it as relief for it to be over.

at least the new tori album is out. i find these lyrics particularly fitting:

"remember: change waltzes in with her sister pain
waiting for you to send her away
wish her well
break the chain"

we said goodbye to her on saturday. there was nothing left to do but give her a peaceful passage into another life somewhere else. it was time, even though none of us wanted it to be.

chloe was my sister’s cat for 16 years. she was an absolutely special feline for so many reasons – she carried a quiet dignity with her everywhere she went. while my cat is the spastic, uncoordinated, big-boned, poorly self-groomed cuddle bug, chloe was always impeccable and mature in her grace, her stature, her beauty. she was quiet but fierce. if you were a stranger, you’d never see her with your own eyes. i was one of the lucky ones –she accepted me into her circle of trust, and i was therefore given access to the beautiful side that others rarely saw.

as i write this description all i can think of is how similar it sounds to my sister. marc and i often joke that maizy is exactly what i would be in cat form, and vice versa. the same can certainly be said for chloe and heather. i cannot imagine the one without the other.

when i think of her i always remember one particular period in time. my sister went away to college, and chloe had to stay home with us. chloe would sleep with heather every night, so there was a particularly glaring absence at nightfall. i vividly recall the first night without heather, and seeing chloe walk quietly into my room and stare up into my eyes, asking for permission to join me. i coaxed her up and she settled on the bed with me, where she would remain until heather returned. it was a routine i looked forward to each day. she would smile at me with those piercing blue eyes; few things could warm your heart as much as moments like that with her.

i could write about memories of her for days – her hilarious playful side, her initially surprising role as the alpha female to her cohorts, her ridiculous nicknames, her speculated origins (including an ill-fated ride on the titanic), so on and so forth.

i do not want to forget these things.
i do not want to think of a world existing without her in it.
i do not want to let go of this gentle creature that brought so much to our lives.

she leaves behind such a glaring absence that i know will never be filled.





chloe, as taken by her mother.
we miss you.

i had a friend in college. he was more of a friend of a friend, really; he hung out in the social circle of my roommates, which i sometimes inhabited. they are all a lovely group of people - and this particular person was someone i especially admired. he had this uncanny ability to always be in a good mood. when i think of him i think of laughter and smiles and welcoming.

he died in a car accident after we graduated from college. i don't think of this as much as i used to - although i think of him more than i ever thought i would. especially on days like these.

i woke up today after a wretched few hours of sleep, tossing and turning in the humid bubble of my bedroom, stressed by issues seen and unseen. i woke doped up on drugs i took to help me sleep, and i felt entirely out of it. there was no way i couldn't go into work at my normal time, so i had to suck it up. but through the fog in my brain i knew enough to think of him. i thought of him during my entire drive this morning, and i think he helped me. i turned on my signals and checked my blind spots; i functioned nearly as well as i would after a good eight hour rest. and i know why.

i did it for him. i did it because he couldn't. and i did it because i wish that he could.

he is missed, and remembered, always.