loneliness and mace.

Well, this side of R&R feels better than the other side.  That's for damn certain.

However, these past few days I've been missing him more than usual.  Now, "usual" is like a constant, achy feeling that is always unpleasant but often disregarded.  Like this burn on my knuckle that I got from checking chicken in the oven several days ago.  Despite the fact that it is constantly sending pain signals to the receivers in my brain, my brain is like, "Meh.  You're telling me this all the time.  I get it."  Such is my heart.  The hurt of Jonathan being gone is all the same, but at some point I've grown accustomed to it.  Which is very different from getting used to it.  I am not "used to" being without my husband.  I'm learning to live with it.  Anyway, these past few days I've had those "pangs."  You know, like if I were to accidentally brush against the aforementioned knuckle with a knife while chopping veggies; it would kind of shock my brain back into realizing that hey, the burn is still there.  And I don't know what it is about these past couple days, but my heart keeps being shocked back into realizing that hey, Jonathan's still gone.  It smacks me in the face when I walk out the door to run errands.  It hits me in the gut while I'm washing dishes.  It's unexplainable and random.  And it doesn't help that the trailer for The Lucky One pops up every ten minutes on my TV screen.  (Maybe this is a sign that I watch too much TV.  Possibly.  Probably.)  Every time that trailer comes up, I'm mesmerized.  Whether it's because the main character is a military guy or it was filmed and edited just right or I'm just a sucker for overly-sappy, emotionally-charged, Nicholas-Sparks-inspired chick flicks, I'll never know.  But every time I see it, the veggie knife lightly scrapes the throbbing loneliness in my heart.

  

I was thinking about this loneliness earlier today.  I felt all un-Christian about it, like if I had a really good relationship with God, I wouldn't feel lonely because I would let Him fill that place in my heart.  But He made me realize that sometimes He doesn't take our loneliness away.  Sometimes He doesn't erase it, assuage it, or fill it.  He holds us in it.  And we come to find that His love for us is so great that the pain of missing someone doesn't quite compare to the comfort of knowing He's there.

I had these thoughts while out walking today.  Lately, as the weather's been nice, I've been going walking every day.  My stamina is terrible so I don't do any of that hardcore sprinting (or even running) stuff, but I'll take a brisk walk and do a little jogging to get my heart rate up.  Change my clothes, tie my running shoes, grab my mace.  Yes, I take mace with me.  I don't care how nice the neighborhood is or the fact that I go out in broad daylight -- creeps can come out of anywhere, anytime, so you bet your ass I'm gonna carry mace with me.  Have you watched Law & Order??  Do you see the creeps on there??

And there's another sign that I watch too much TV.  But hey, that tiny bottle might save my life one day, so carry it I shall.

Not really sure there was a common theme to this post.  Just a few random thoughts.  Didn't really even have anything to do with Good Friday, either.  Ah, well.

Happy Easter weekend, folks.

hurry up and wait . . . . the army wife way.

Making persistent and increasingly exhausting phone calls.  Filling out, dropping off, picking up, scanning in, and emailing out endless paperwork.  Jumping through hoops -- and not the normal, circular kind, either; we're talking the abnormal, twisted, crazy, confusing Army hoops.  Waiting.  Sloughing through a waist-high medley of ten different answers to one single question.  All the while, never being quite certain that you won't run smack-dab into a wall, being forced to turn around and start all over again, simply because the person on the other end of the phone rattled off some half-baked answer instead of double-checking that they were pointing you in the right direction.

Just a few things I'm facing during this command sponsorship process.

Command Sponsorship:  "Command Sponsorship is a privilege granted by the Commander so that the Soldiers Family Members may accompany the Soldier.  When a Soldier obtains orders for Out of the Continental United States (OCONUS), he/she will have either Accompanied (with) or Unaccompanied (without) dependent orders.  In order for the Soldier to arrange for Family Members travel overseas at the Army’s expense, they must be Command Sponsored."  (http://www.bw.eur.army.mil)

After Jonathan got back to Afghanistan, he found out that he will be returning to Germany, rather than being stationed stateside, for the remainder of his contract.  Naturally, we wanted to get the ball rolling on this command sponsorship thing as soon as possible -- the sooner we started on those awful phone calls and headache-inducing paperwork, the more likely we would be approved.  As I stated earlier, this process is confusing and frustrating.  The fact that my husband & I being able to live together for the next year is resting on whether or not the various Army officials decide it's a good idea (and investment) is exasperating.  There are seriously flowcharts outlining the whole routine.

Ugh.

So, into the waist-high medley we sloughed.  On one hand, it feels like we have already done so much to push these papers through and get them verified by countless signatures from people in various states (and countries).  And yet, on the other hand, it seems like there is still so much to do, so many more signatures to obtain, and so many more days (weeks . . . .) of waiting.  Jonathan posted about all this on his Facebook, requesting prayers that God would bless us throughout the process with a timely approval.  Initially, I wasn't going to say anything about it until I knew for sure whether or not we were approved; but, I suppose there is something valuable in being vulnerable about our needs so they can be lifted up in prayer by many more than just us.

At this point, I have completed a medical screening according to EFMP (Exceptional Family Member Program) standards.  The paperwork has been signed by my doctor, as well as reviewed and signed by a doctor in Ft. Knox.  It is now on its way to Germany for further approval (this is pretty much guaranteed since it has received the Army stamp of approval in Ft. Knox).  Once they give the a-ok for my medical screening, we can officially request command sponsorship.  For this, Jonathan will get a packet together and submit it to his superiors to be approved.  From here, it still has to go through several channels before we know for sure whether or not we are approved for command sponsorship.

As you can see, it is a long, exhaustive process that requires a lot of persistence and patience.  We have been relentless in calling, emailing, and talking to people to make sure the papers are being pushed through; in addition, a couple of Jonathan's sergeants have been very attentive to the paperwork that needs to be completed and submitted quickly and efficiently.  It is a slow process, but I feel blessed even that things are moving at the rate that they are.

Thanks for taking the time to read all that.  Both Jonathan & I would be so grateful if you would keep us in your prayers throughout this process.  Pray that the paperwork will move smoothly, that we will be approved, and that we will continue to give our stress and anxiety to God.  He ultimately calls the shots, so I am content to know that whatever happens, He's got it all planned and under control.

And for now, I'll just hurry up and wait.  :)

all that lovey-dovey stuff.

Yesterday, as we were enjoying ice cream cones on a very hot Michigan spring day, my 8-year-old brother informed me that I did not, in fact, go to college.

Me:  "Yes, I did, for a little while."

Carson:  "But you're not going anymore."

Me:  "You're right."

Carson:  "Yeah, because now you have a love life."

Me:  (amused)  "What's a love life?"

Carson:  "You know, when two people meet, and then they have a love life."

Me:  "You mean like when two guys meet?"

Carson:  (slightly exasperated)  "Noooo.  When one guy meets one girl, and you know, they do love life things, and talk lovey to each other, and all that lovey-dovey stuff."

The conversation drifted onto other topics as the ice cream melted off our cones and onto the table in front of us.  (In Carson's case, onto his shirt.)  I smile as I recall this conversation and the simplicity with which my little brother thought of a romantic relationship.  But I think there's something to be said about this simple approach to something we often take way too seriously.  Don't get me wrong -- a relationship requires a lot of time, energy, attention, and give-and-take.  But it's not all seriousness.  It's laughs & giggles.  It's a water fight while doing the dishes.  It's asking him/her, "Would you like to go on a date with me this Saturday?" -- even if you've been together for years.  It's giving him/her a smirk and a slap on the ass as you walk by.  It's flirting like you're fifteen again.

So to Jonathan, my husband and closest friend -- I'm so glad I have a "love life" with you.  I'm glad we "do love life things, and talk lovey to each other, and all that lovey-dovey stuff."  :)  Always your girl, xoxo.

here's to our armed forces.

Well those two weeks flew by in the blink of an eye.  Having Jonathan home was so good for my heart, and it was difficult, as always, to let go of each other at the airport.  He was sick at the beginning of the R&R, and I was sick during the trip, as well.  But Jon kept saying, "I just want to be with you, whether we're in sick or out doing stuff."  What a good guy I have!  It was so hard to let go.

These beautiful pictures were captured by Nate Thomas!

It's such a huge adjustment going from being with my husband almost constantly for two weeks to being separated by an ocean and an 8.5-hour time difference.  Going from hugging, kissing, and touching to having go without his embrace when I need it the most.  Going from, "What do you want to do today?" to emailing and hoping for a phone call.  This is the third time I've had to go through this adjustment, and I'm stronger this time than the two times before.  I miss him like hell, but I know I've walked this road before and made it through alive, so I know I can do it again.  On top of that, his deployment has supposedly been shortened -- I am just hoping that the Army sticks to this plan and that our guys will come home early!

It's a different kind of life, being married into the Army.  Your plans are no longer your own.  Your future is at the mercy of military officials far above your husband's rank.  It's difficult to "settle down" because the Army will send you wherever it needs you, regardless of what kinds of plans you think you have.  Jon will be out of the Army in about a year and a half, so this will not be a permanent way of life for us.  But, we are living it now.  Despite the uncertainty of Army life, I can't say that I regret marrying into it.  I am doing everything I can to emotionally support and love an incredible man who is serving this country and the American people.  We are not being reimbursed to the extent that we sacrifice, but that's okay, because the Army doesn't owe us anything.  The United States doesn't owe us anything.  We choose this lifestyle because we want to do our part to preserve the freedom our Constitution grants us.  We don't do it for money.  We do it for justice, for love, because it is right.  Maybe you support the war, maybe you don't, maybe you think the government is corrupt, maybe you think we are slowly losing our freedom, but one thing remains true, regardless of what "side" you are on -- there are fathers, mothers, husbands, wives, sons, daughters, aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends who are willing to sacrifice their lives in the name of freedom for the American people.  Be it Army, Navy, Air Force, Marine, or Coast Guard -- here's to our armed forces and the sacrifices they make for us.

He's home!

My soldier is finally home for two weeks, and it has been a whirlwind!  As if Army life isn't crazy enough already . . .

Jonathan had been in transit for a few days by the time I flew to Dallas on Tuesday, February 21.  He had to travel to a couple of different FOB's (Forward Operating Base), then to Kuwait, then to Germany, then to Atlanta, and finally to Dallas -- so he actually left his FOB a little over a week before my flight was scheduled to go out.  Turns out, he got stuck at a FOB in Afghanistan due to snow (yes, it snows in Afghanistan!), and didn't arrive in Dallas until Thursday, February 23.  I had already been there for a couple days and was staying with his friend Nate.  Now, I'm naturally an emotional person, I worry about little things, and I hadn't seen my husband for 7 months, so Nate had a lot to put up with . . . but he did a really good job of keeping me sane and somewhat calm during that 48 hours.  ;)

Thursday morning I went to work with Nate so we could go straight from there to the airport, where Jonathan's flight was tentatively expected to arrive about 2:00 p.m.  I watched episode after episode of Modern Family, constantly checking the time on my phone.  Five minutes felt like an hour as the morning dragged on.  My phone rang at about 9:30 a.m., and I heard Jonathan's voice on the other end.  You have to understand that up until now, I've had phone call after phone call of, "Hey babe, I'm sorry but I'm going to be delayed another day."  So I held my breath as I hoped for good news.  Relief flooded over me as I heard, "Hey, I'm in Atlanta right now, I should be there on the 2:05 flight."  Only a few more hours!

Nate and I left for the airport at about 1:00 p.m., after checking to make sure Jonathan's flight was on time.  I was nervous, excited, anxious.  Can you imagine not seeing your husband for 7 months, and finally being on your way to the airport to pick him up??  There's an exhilaration you will not feel anywhere else!!

The airline screwed up the gate at which his plane was arriving, so Nate and I had to get back in the car and drive to a different area to pick him up.  As we were pulling in to park, I caught sight of Jonathan leaning against a cement column, looking so handsome in his uniform . . . "Let me out right here, I just want to go see him!" I kept telling Nate as he parked the car.  Finally, the moment for which I'd been waiting for 7 months was here.  My legs were shaking and my heart was pounding as I leaped into Jonathan's arms and held him close.  In that moment, the most incredible feeling pulsed through every fiber of my being . . . only fellow Army wives/fianceés/girlfriends know exactly what I'm talking about.  The world around me -- the colors, the people, the sounds, the traffic -- all became a blur.  It sounds cliché, I know, but nothing else mattered in that moment.  It is the most amazing, indescribable feeling I've ever experienced in my life.

Nate did a great job of capturing the moment for us!

(Even though I look incredibly awkward in mid-jump. ;) )

He has a pretty sweet photoblog here!

The United States welcomed Jonathan with open arms . . . and a bout of food poisoning.  Not kidding.  Starting Friday evening, he was down for about a day and a half -- he couldn't keep any food down, and could barely keep any liquids in his body to prevent dehydration.  It was a rough weekend for sure.  He is feeling MUCH better now, though, and is playing Need For Speed next to me on the couch as I type.  :)

It is amazing having my husband home with me.  As we drive in the car, I catch myself gazing out the window and suddenly remind myself that after he goes back to Afghanistan, I'm going to regret not looking over at him more than I did . . . so I glance over and try to memorize every part of him, his muscles, his hands, his arms, his shoulders.  I want to remember everything so vividly, and yet I know that those things that are so real to me right now will slowly fade from memory over the next several months.  I know what the separation feels like.  I know what it is to forget what my husband's kisses feel like, to forget how his hands feel on me.  I know the pain that's coming, and I am powerless to stop it.  All I can do is savor each moment I have right now, each glance, each half-smile that crawls across those lips of his, each touch, each whisper, each laugh, each memory.  As Anne Morrow Lindbergh said:

"If you surrender completely to the moments as they pass, you live more richly those moments."

stressed? chill out.

The week before last was a bit crazy.  And a canker sore popped up in my mouth.  Ouch.

I am quick to tell people that canker sores "are not the herpes thing, that's a COLD SORE, and those are really contagious."  A canker sore is a small ulcer on the inside of one's mouth that heals itself usually in about 10-14 days.  I began researching canker sores and found that the medical community does not know exactly what causes a canker sore -- and, in turn, does not know exactly what will cure one.  There are theories as to what contributes to a sore developing, from one's diet to a lack of certain vitamins to emotional stress.  Many experts believe that a fluke in one's immune system is the main culprit.  One theory based on this belief I found quite interesting:

Basically, your body senses that there is an intruder in the soft tissues of your mouth -- but it isn't really there.  Your brain's like, "Hey, white blood cells, go attack that intruder!"  So they rush off to fight this "infection."  When they arrive at the spot marked 'X', all that's there is normal, healthy tissue.  But the white blood cells are all gung-ho for fighting at this point, so they just do what they do best -- they attack, and they attack hard.  They eat away at what they think is the bad guy, but really it's that normal, healthy tissue in your mouth.  Ouch.

Anyway, so one of these bad boys appeared out of nowhere last weekend.  Being genetically prone + lack of certain vitamins + PMS + high stress = perfect conditions for a sore to develop; so, it's not all that difficult to understand why I got one.  Thankfully, mine is pretty much gone now.  But it got me thinking about stress and how it affects one's body.  I've always thought of stress as a feeling -- if I felt stressed-out or on edge, my body was under stress.  If I didn't feel stressed, then my body wasn't under stress.  However, this is not necessarily true.  Stress is a very literal thing -- there are hormones, such as cortisol, released in one's body that affect the functions of the body.  And in this fast-paced, high-pressure, jam-packed culture we live in, it's important that we take time to take care of ourselves.  So here are some things that I do to lessen my stress . . .

1.  Have you ever been given the advice to take a minute or two to literally sit and do nothing?  Well, have you tried it?  I have, and I'll be the first to say it sounds silly . . . but I'll also be the first to say it really helps lessen stress!  If you have difficulty making yourself do nothing for a few minutes, go here: the quiet place.  There, now you have no excuses.

2.  Light candles.  Especially aromatherapy candles.  As these candles burn, essential oils are released into the air which enter your body as you breathe to help relax and calm you.  You may not consciously realize that your stress is being lessened, but remember:  stress is not always a feeling -- it is literal hormonal activity in your body.

3.  Eat dark chocolate.

It is fairly common knowledge that chocolate releases endorphins in our bodies which make us feel good.  However, dark chocolate not only releases these same endorphins, but also contains powerful antioxidants which help to lower high blood pressure, improve one's skin, and boost one's mood, among other things.  Now, you probably shouldn't go eat a whole bunch of dark chocolate . . . but a couple ounces a day (maybe in place of that cookie or brownie??) can help lower your stress levels.

4.  Smile and laugh.  Seriously.  Need some help?  Here you go.  <-- he has no problem doing it.  Why should you?

Well that's all I have right now.  There are tons of other things that can help reduce stress -- go for a jog, get a massage, take a bath.  Just take some time -- make some time if you have to! -- to take care of yourself for a minute.  You're worth it.

it's time to explore the ocean.

I am about to embark on a new journey.  I've been walking this path for awhile now, and it's time to take a different route, check out some different scenery.  I'm quitting my job.

Say whaaaat???  Yep, I put in my two weeks' notice on Friday, and after my lovely two-week vacation with my husband (whom I haven't seen in 7 months!), I will come back to a different sort of life, a refreshing change.

To be honest, I'm a little anxious.  It will be painful to leave Appletree, where I have invested in the lives of children I've come to love, and where I have cultivated friendships with the amazing ladies with whom I've had the opportunity to work.  However, my decision to leave is one into which I've put a lot of thought, and I believe this is the best choice for me right now.  I have a handful of ideas I want to pursue once I come back from vacation, when my immediate future is free from the restriction of a daily job, and when I will be in desperate need of new and exciting things to distract me from the throbbing loneliness of being torn away from the love of my life yet again.  But that is where the different scenery comes in . . .

I've had an unordinary life.  But, haven't we all?  I was homeschooled from 5th grade - 12th grade, and graduated high school with an acceptance letter to Michigan State University in hand.  I was accepted into the Honors College, and finished my first semester with a 4.0.  (So just try to make an argument that homeschooling is less ideal than any other school!  ;) )  During that first semester, I fell in love with a soldier who was stationed overseas; and, during Christmas break, he asked me to marry him.  We wanted to get married before he deployed in the summer, so we set the date for June 25, 2011.  With the stress of full-time school, part-time work, and planning a wedding, I decided to withdraw during my second semester at State.  I transferred to the Appletree in Wyoming, MI, and moved back in with my parents.  Summer came, and my soldier came with it.  We were blessed to be supported by so many friends and family on our wedding day (some drove or flew across the country to be there for us), and we spent a glorious six weeks together -- two weeks in Michigan, four weeks in Germany -- before we said goodbye, not knowing when we would be with each other again.  Fast-forward seven months, and here we are.  As you can imagine, I feel like the past year has been quite a whirlwind for me.  Exactly one year ago, I made the decision to withdraw from State, drastically changing the course of my life.  I was originally pursuing a degree in Communication, with a specialization in Public Relations.  Did I enjoy it?  Sure.  But I felt feel that is not the direction in which my life is headed.  So where is my life headed??  That brings me here.  To this moment.  To the here and now.

Because the thing is, I think I'm at a time in my life where I don't have to be so concerned about where my life is headed.  Jonathan and I have talked about and agreed on such things as when we'd like to start having children, where we want to settle down, and long-term career/school goals; however, I can't really initiate those plans without my life partner by my side.  And until he comes back home from fighting the bad guys, I wait.  But who says waiting has to be boring and uneventful?  I have an incredible chance to take a different path, immerse myself in new scenery, experience new things, fall in love with a new hobby, get lost in the vibrancy of life.

For one can enjoy a pond by treading water, but will only get to explore the ocean if he chooses to swim.

getting to the oasis.

Morning.  Drag myself out of bed.  Stumble to the kitchen and take a caffeine tablet.  (Yes, every morning -- it's healthier (and less expensive) than Starbuck's.)  Shower, and all that hygiene stuff.  Eat a yogurt.  Remind myself I only have [#] more days until my husband comes home.  Ugh . . . mundane, routine, ughhh . . .

Really, it's only a short amount of time left until Jon's R&R.  I mean, haven't I done this morning routine thing 197 times already since I saw him last?  A few more shouldn't kill me . . .

I'm trying to figure out how to get through these last few weeks without going crazy, though.  The closer it gets, the more slowly time seems to pass.  I don't have a physical countdown, and I'm keeping busy working full-time . . . I'm even trying to distract myself by getting pierced & tattooed.  But all I can see is the long (but in reality it's quite short) stretch of desert land ahead of me until I reach my oasis.  So, how do I distract myself until I get there?  I have a few ideas . . .

1.  I'm going to make this.

Chili Chicken Soup with Cilantro Dumplings

When I saw this recipe, I'm pretty sure I immediately started drooling.  Okay, maybe not, but my mouth definitely dropped open.

2.  I'm going to read a novel my friend lent me called The Red Tent.  I'm not a big reader, but I told her I'd give this a try. . . so we'll see.

3.  I'm going to get another tattoo.  Ha, not really.

4.  I'm going to get up and go to work every day.

5.  I'm going to get my hair done -- I'm longgg overdue for a hair appointment.  Anyone looking for a new hair stylist?  Mine rocks, her name is Kim Marshall, and she makes me look good every time I go to her!

6.  I'm going to enjoy the company of friends, whether that means catching dinner or coffee with someone I haven't seen in awhile, or kicking back with my best friend and a glass of wine after a long day at work.

7.  I'm going to fill the gaps of time with all those regular life things -- I'm going to sleep, pick up groceries, clean my apartment, etc. . . . pretty good gap-fillers, if you ask me.

That's all I can think of right now.  Each day is passing excruciatingly slowly, but I'm sure Jon's R&R will be here -- and gone -- in the blink of an eye.  I need to learn how to better cherish life in the here and now, even if I'm waiting for something.  Because that thing I'm waiting for -- it will be here, eventually, and I will get to enjoy it then.  In the meantime, I can enjoy the beautiful moments right now, in the present . . . because I don't want to look back and realize I let life pass me by while waiting.

pain. suffering. grief. oh my.

I have been thinking about pain.  Suffering.  Grief.  And my heart has not known pain more severe than being torn from the love of my life, my husband, as a newlywed, when he deployed to a war zone.

We all experience pain throughout our lives, and there is a wide range of pain that we feel.  We can feel pain in the form of disappointment when we go to eat that last piece of cheesecake at 3:00 a.m. only to find that someone else has already done the job (yeah, you know what I'm talking about).  Then there's the pain of failing a test or totally dropping the ball on that big presentation at work (bottle of wine, please?).  Almost everyone can relate to the pain of being betrayed, lied to, or broken up with (a very big bottle of wine, please?).  And then, way on the far end of the spectrum, there's the pain of heart-wrenching grief:  A miscarriage.  The death of a loved one.  Being diagnosed with a life-threatening illness.  Life suddenly seems to be in slow-motion and the colors and smells and tastes that used to be so vibrant now turn into a murky conglomeration of lifeless clutter.  You catch your breath, and learn that you never knew you could cry so much.  You're confused, bewildered, angry.  You're trying to figure this out but you feel like you're stumbling in the dark, a sobbing mess.  No one can comprehend your suffering.  No heart can feel your grief.

And then you open your tired eyes to smiling faces telling you that "it could be worse!" and to "not wallow in self-pity."  They do this because they love you and don't want to see you hurting .... or is it because they don't want to take your burden on themselves?  It is much easier to pat someone on the back than it is to walk in their shoes, plain and simple.  But nothing nourishes a grieving heart more than someone willing to sacrifice their own comfort to feel another's pain and to cry some of their tears.  Grieving hearts are connected to ears that need to hear, "It's okay to grieve."

So here I am, to tell those of you who are suffering and are in pain so unbearable you literally feel your heart aching that it's okay to feel that pain.  It's okay to let yourself grieve.  What you're going through sucks.  But you will come out of it, and someday you'll be able to smile at the little things again.  Until then, it's okay to take it slow -- or fast, it's different for each person.  You have a wound, and healing time varies.  A doctor would not tell you to treat a broken leg as if it weren't broken, and you should not treat your broken heart as if it weren't broken.  You will come out of this, just give yourself some time, and when someone tells you that you should really be finding the joy in life because it's bad (and not to mention selfish) to focus on your suffering, you can politely tell them to go screw themselves . . . or you can at least think it.

do something different.

"Life isn't about finding yourself.  Life is about creating yourself."

George Bernard Shaw

After I got home today, I did what I almost always do when I walk in the door -- I turned on the TV.  Often I will turn it on and walk away, going about other business, leaving it on simply for the noise or the music.  Today, however, my cable wouldn't work.  I tried getting online, and the internet wouldn't work, either.  I called xfinity, and the computerized program let me know that they were having difficulties with the cable and internet in my area and that they would be up again by roughly 8:00 p.m.  I was a little irritated, and laughed at myself for being so accustomed to and dependent on technology.  So, instead, I lit candles all around my living room and dining room, put my iTunes on shuffle, and danced around while doing the dishes and cleaning up the apartment.  Not kidding.  Did I look ridiculous?  Probably.  Was it a refreshing change from having the TV on?  Definitely.

For some people, it's not TV.  It's Facebook.  Or Twitter.  Or their cell phones.  Something they instinctively turn on, check, or update because it provides a sense of security, comfort, or connection to other people that they feel they would not have otherwise.

I'm not gonna go all radical on you and vow to give up TV or internet for a week or even for a day.  For you who do that, all the power to ya.  My point is simply to convey the sense of happiness, energy, peace, and joy that an unexpected change of pace can bring.  I'm smiling as I write this . . . hell, I don't even care if the cable is working again, I don't want to turn it on.  (I obviously have the internet working . . . obviously.)  I want to enjoy this, right here, this change of pace, this break from something to which I am so accustomed.  It's refreshing.  It's switching up an otherwise normal pattern.  It's beautiful.

You should try it.  And by that I mean doing anything that changes up an otherwise normal pattern for you.  Take a different route home from work.  Try a new restaurant.  Instead of calling your woman "beautiful," tell her she's "breathtaking."  Send a sexy text to your man while he's at work.  (And be sure to follow through with it when he gets home ;)  )  Read that book you've been meaning to start.  It can be anything.  Anything to change life up a little.  Maybe it will seem pointless, maybe it will make you smile, but you won't know if you don't try.  Just live. Live, and do it on purpose.

cheesy chicken bacon avocado quesadillas

I made these last night.

Talk about YUM.  That is, after I baked the bacon for the right amount of time.  The first try, I put all 10 slices of bacon on a sheet pan and put it in the oven.  Following the recipe, 15 minutes per side at 400.  The first 15 minutes goes well.  I flip the bacon and reset the timer.  Several minutes later, I check the oven to find black strips of bacon.  Hurriedly I take them out and stand there looking at them debating whether to omit the bacon from the recipe, or to run to the store and buy more.  I decide to run to the store....right when the smoke alarm goes off due to the burnt bacon.  Oh boy.  Long story short, the alarm soon stopped, more bacon was bought, said bacon was baked seven minutes per side, and these yummy quesadillas were a success.

The recipe is located under the 'recipes' tab.

They're super yummy.  Super quick.  Super easy.

If you cook the bacon the right way, that is.

got tatted up.

Yesterday, I got a tattoo.

It says "beautiful ashes" in Hebrew.  I have been planning on getting this for awhile, before I decided to start this blog . . . so, now you know where the idea for my blog name came from.

It hurt more than I thought it would.  Took about 45 minutes.  Got it done by a guy named Finley at Mos Eisley's.  And I absolutely love it.

On another note, it is gorgeous outside!  Snow has been falling almost continuously since the night before last.  This doesn't mean that I like driving in this stuff or freezing my ass off whenever I have to go anywhere . . . but looking at this from the inside of my warm apartment?  Yes please.

This picture doesn't even do the beauty of it justice!

I visited my friend Stephanie, and her daughter, Mya, today.  I used to babysit Mya when she was a baby -- I helped her learn how to sit up, I read her books, I rocked her to sleep . . . and now she's walking and talking and all big-girl!  My how time flies!  It was so good to see them again.  Afterwards, I ran some errands as the roads continuously got worse, and now I am so content to be warm and snuggled on my couch watching the Food Network!  ;)

Here's to my 3-day weekend!

it was one of those days.

You know the kind I'm talking about.  After crying on my way home from work, I then proceeded to go back out and buy a half gallon of the most chocolatey ice cream I could find.

It was one of those days.

Sometimes life just downright sucks, and it's ok to have bad days.  Life has a funny way of going on with itself, and sometimes we just have to hunker down and get through the shit to get to the sunshine.

Chocolatey ice cream helps.

let people surprise you.

I am fortunate to have as neighbors a very sweet, lovely, elderly couple.  Cal & Lois.  Cal was a sailor during WWII; so, naturally, Lois knows what it's like to be a military wife on the homefront.  Every time I see them, they ask about Jonathan.  In Cal's own words, "How's that handsome husband of yours doing?"  They are blatant in their gratitude to both me and Jonathan for our service to this country.

Now, it should be noted that I have a bumper sticker on my car which reads, "Army Wife: You Try Doing This Shit."  I figured Cal & Lois probably didn't like the sticker due to the language, but I didn't think too much about it.  The other day, as I was leaving and they were coming in, Lois chuckled as she said to me, "I like the bumper sticker on your car.  Been there, done that."  This is not what I expected to hear from a woman in her late 80's!  It made me stop, and smile, and realize that people are not always what they seem.  They have ideas and thoughts and experiences under the surface that make up who they are.  We see but a snapshot.  May we never assume people are a certain way simply because that's how we've always thought of them.

Think differently.  Realize there's more to people than their words & actions and the assumptions you've made based on those words & actions.  Never stop learning about people.  Let them surprise you.

help them cry.

I read this story today :

          Author and lecturer Leo Buscaglia once talked about a contest he was

          asked to judge.  The purpose of the contest was to find the most

          caring child.  The winner was a four-year-old child whose next-door

          neighbor was an elderly gentleman who had recently lost his wife.

          Upon seeing the man cry, the little boy went into the old gentleman's

          yard, climbed onto his lap, and just sat there.  When his mother

          asked what he had said to the neighbor, the little boy said,

          "Nothing, I just helped him cry."

Pain is a funny thing.  It hits hard, it creeps up slowly, it cuts deep, it comes in waves, it makes us cry, it makes us crazy.  It's something we often hide and show only to a select few.  After all, the last thing we want at that point is for someone to be careless with our fragile heart and cause it even more damage.

So what do we do, when trusted with the precious tears of someone else?  Whether they blatantly reveal their pain to us, or we happen to catch a glimpse through the broken smiles and forced laughter they patch their wounds with.

We don't pat them on the back and tell them they'll be ok.  Chances are, they know they'll be ok.  We don't tell them to suck it up, or to look on the bright side, or that somebody else has it worse than they do.  We don't give them advice or tell them how they should be handling it.

We help them cry.

it's a new year.

Yeah, I know it's kind of cliché.  To start a blog at the beginning of a New Year.  But who cares?  I'm not doing it because it's cliché, but because there are a lot of feelings and thoughts in this little heart and mind that might benefit someone, somewhere.  Or maybe it'll just benefit me to get them out.  Either way, it's worth it.

This past year has had a lot of ups and downs.  I entered 2011 as a newly engaged woman, and my fiancé, a Cavalry Scout in the U.S. Army, was stationed in Germany, 4,000 miles away.  I didn't see him until a week before the wedding, in June of 2011.  So when I say I was responsible for all of the wedding planning, I mean I was responsible for all of the wedding planning!  Thank goodness I had my mom to help me.  (Okay, I'll be honest.  I think she did more of the work than I did!)  June comes.  I marry the love of my life.  He whisks me away to Germany, where we spend a month together.  And then, he is deployed to Afghanistan and I return to the States.  Some way to start a marriage, huh?

I have survived five months of deployment so far.  I keep busy by working full-time as an assistant teacher at a learning center.  It is fast-paced and stressful, but there is something so joyful and pure about being around children; they are genuine, spontaneous, curious, and carefree.  And it's infectious.  I am truly blessed to have a job that I enjoy and to be working with people who are not just coworkers, but friends.  So while 40 hours of my week are taken up by my job, the other 128 are consumed by:  investing in relationships with family & friends, Skyping my husband as much as I can, cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping, watching T.V., spending too much time online, spending not enough time reading, and sleeping.

It's unique, this life I live.  It's different than other people's.  But then, doesn't everyone feel as though their life is vastly different from everyone else's?  Others' lives, others' happiness, others' issues, become a mixed blur in contrast to the vivid colors of the pain we feel, the happiness we experience, the things we are dealing with.  Our hearts are woven from the fabric of our own deep emotions, while the emotions of others are simply paintings on a wall that we yearn to understand, all the while knowing there is so much meaning the artist longs to convey that slips past our clawing minds.  As I look over the course of 2011, I see changes, gains, and losses.  I withdrew from college, got married, visited Germany, moved into an apartment.  I was blessed with a loving husband, saw real castles & tasted strange food while overseas, and gained new friends.  But, I also said goodbye to my new husband as he was deployed to a war zone a month after we married, experienced the fading of friendships and relationships, and have dealt with the loneliness of being an Army wife during a deployment.  And this latter group are the ashes.  The ashes of things that were once beautiful and vibrant, but have lost their life in some way or another.  At first, I didn't know what to do with the ashes except to grieve them.  To kick, scream, cry, mourn, fight against the loss, be angry, and cry some more.  Eventually, though, I came to realize that things become ashes in our lives -- we experience loss and pain -- so new life can be ushered in.  So we can take that next step forward, inhale new smells, and see new colors.  The ashes we once mourned are given new life as they become something new, and something beautiful.  They are ugly to the present eye, and it is okay to let oneself feel the pain of that ugliness....but only for so long.  We must learn to see the beauty of the ashes in the midst of our grief.  Because while they may seem ugly now, they are beautiful....because they have the potential to become beautiful.