Totally worth it.

Man! I haven't blogged in awhile, but, this week, and particularly this day, was definitely worth blogging about, so, here I go. I have at least four newsworthy events to share, but I think I'm going to focus this blog on one event in particular. The other three events (I got a free Pepsi at Super America, I won the drawing for 5 free burritos from Chipotle, and Henrik and I had a playdate with a few local celebrities) will have a blog written about them at another time, because tonight I need to write about my second favorite topic on the planet: shoes.

Awhile ago, I blogged about a few things I wanted to accomplish in my free time. If you're bored, you can read that blog here: http://henriksmom.blogspot.com/2010/07/random-goals-in-my-life.html

Anyways, number 2 on that blog was that I wanted to find the match to my favorite pair of Keds that I've been trying to find for the past 2 years. After reading that blog, I did a little math, and in fact, I have been trying to find the match to this pair of Keds for at least 4 years. Holy cow.

Let me back up a little bit.

So this pair of shoes were, and are, hands-down, my Favorite pair of shoes. Now, I have a minimum of 75 pairs of shoes at all times, and that doesn't include how many I've given away the past few years, so shoes are definitely something that I don't award the title of "Favorite" to very easily. But, these shoes are so great, they are very worthy of the title.

What do they look like you may ask? Well, I feel like they look like me, in a nutshell. They are navy blue corduroy, no laces, and slip-on style. There are tiny patches of green plaid on them, and several little tiny fraying rips on all sides and tops of them. In the patches of green plaid, there are a few yellow stripes, adding just a little more color. On the tops of the shoes are tiny little pink-ish stars just to the sides of the green plaid patches. Finally, my favorite part of the shoes are the little holes that have worn in right where my big toes point through the top. The holes are tiny, but exactly the same size, and always show off just a little bit my lavender toenail polish if I point my toes through the holes just right.

Now, I'm trying to think back to when I got these shoes, and I really don't remember. I think I got them when I was living in Arizona, and I think that contributes to why the shoes are so special to me. Remember when I just wrote that I think they look like me in a nutshell? There's a pretty good reason for that.

I bought these shoes several years ago when, like most people in their early to mid twenties, I wasn't really sure about who I was, or what the heck I was going to do with my life. I couldn't figure out anything: my career, my personal life, my boyfriend, or my dog. I pretty much just went to work everyday, complained about how hot it was (but it's a dry heat), drove home in my sweet car jamming out to music, went to my other job, and then went out for drinks. I don't think I ever really stopped to think about who I was, where I was going, or how on earth I ever ended up in Phoenix, Arizona, driving a white Mitsubishi Eclipse and working at UHaul and David's Bridal, all while honing my tastebuds for martinis and sake. It was a great time of my life, for sure, but I definitely felt unsure of who I really was, other than a sassy girl who had a lot of fun, a lot of friends, and lot of confidence stemming from an insecurity of not knowing how else to act.

I think this is where the shoes come in.

If my memory serves me right, I bought these shoes during that time in Arizona, and something about them reminded me of Home. I don't remember where I got them, how much they cost, who I was with when I bought them, or even if they were on sale. I just remember buying them and knowing that, for whatever reason, they reminded me of Minnesota. I couldn't explain why, but they reminded me of what it felt to be with people who really knew me, and remembered me as a kid, instead of only knowing me as a 20-something girl from Minnesota who liked to have a lot of fun and always had some interesting stories to tell my co-workers after an adventurous night on the town. Anyways, for some unexplainable reason, the shoes just made me feel like...me....especially at a time when the idea of "me" was a very fluid concept. I wore those shoes every chance I could, just to remind myself to keep a little bit of "me" everywhere I went.

Well, as my story goes, I wrapped up my years in sunny AZ to move back up to the land of 10,000 lakes and go to law school. Obviously, my favorite Keds came with me, and they made the move up here to Minnesota as well. Me and my Keds first lived in an apartment on Grand Ave in St. Paul, where I spent my first year up here. At the end of that year, my life changed forever when I had Henrik, and the importance of everything in life, including my Keds, took a very distant second place to taking care of my kid.

Over time, I moved into a new place, and had to unpack all of my stuff. This, of course, included unpacking my shoes. Lost in the shuffle of taking care of Henrik and unpacking my stuff, I don't think I even noticed that my pair of Keds was missing for quite awhile. But, alas, over time I noticed that I only had ONE of my Keds...and its match was missing...

I let the lonely Ked sit in my closet by itself for quite awhile, just telling myself, "Oh, the match will turn-up. It's got to be around here somewhere." I never thought for a second that I wouldn't find the match. Time went by, that single Ked just sat in its spot, and every time I would come across it, I would think to myself, "Oh, surely I'll find its match. I just need to keep looking and be patient. I'll find it." Well..........then, more time went by...and more time went by..and more time went by. As I rearranged my shoes in my room so that I could see all of them all the time instead of hiding them away in my closet, my single Ked stayed in its own little slot, all by itself, and I stared at it, hoping I would someday find the match to my beloved pair of Keds.

Spring cleaning would come and go, and every time that I would start to pack-up all of my old clothes and shoes to donate, I would pick-up my single Ked, think about putting it in the giveaway box, eventually put it in the box...stare at it for awhile..take it out...put it back-in..and then right before putting the box in my car, I'd take out the Ked, put it back in its slot in my bedroom, and think to myself, "Wait, I'll keep hanging onto it. I KNOW I will find its match. I'll just be patient." There was just something about that darn shoe that I couldn't get rid of. I found myself thinking I was crazy...why on earth was I hanging on to ONE shoe!??! I lost the match to it years ago...it's ripped, it's nothing special, there are thousands of awesome shoes out there I could replace it with, and it's unwearable because I only have one! I think I must have put that shoe in the garbage 100 times. But Every. Single. Time.. I would run to the garbage and take it out before it got hauled away. For some godforsaken reason, I just could not, and would not, give up on that dang shoe.

If this blog isn't unbelievable or pathetic enough already, I held onto that Ked for at least 4 years....hoping to find its' match.

And then...it happened.

I was at my parents house today to pick-up my kid. My parents are doing some remodeling and moving a bunch of stuff around their house, and my mom wanted to show me some rearranging she did in my old bedroom. When we were in my room, my mom mentioned to me that she had come across a bag of shoes in my closet that I put there when I moved. I grabbed the yellow bag of shoes and started going through them. I found a few old shoes in there that I kept, but nothing spectacular. As I picked-up the yellow bag and started to put it back in its corner in the closet, I looked in the spot where the bag had been sitting for the past 4 years, and right then and there..sitting all by itself..was the match to my beloved Ked.

I picked it up and started screaming at my mom, "MOM! I FOUND IT!! I FOUND MY SHOE!! I'VE BEEN LOOKING FOR THIS SHOE FOR 4 YEARS! OH MY GOD!! AHHH!!!" With tears in my eyes, I held the shoe out in front of me and over my head, like Rafiki held Simba, and immediately grabbed my stuff and headed out the door of my parents house because I couldn't WAIT to get back up to my condo and put on my beloved, Favorite pair of Keds, and wear them like they were meant to be worn...as a pair.

On the drive back, a panic swept through me. I was worried that, after all these years, had I actually given-up and thrown away the Ked? All those times that I threw it in the garbage, did I once fail to retrieve it and finally give-up on my long quest to find its match? What if I didn't have it? What if it was too late? What if, after 4 years of looking, I finally gave up and threw it away, thinking it was impossible to find its match and that I was literally crazy for thinking it would show up?

Well, this story has a happy ending. I rushed home into my condo, threw open my closet door, and there..sitting all by its' lonesome..was my Ked that I had held onto for 4 years. I immediately kicked off my flip-flops and put on my pair of Keds. I wore them for the rest of the night until about 20 minutes ago when I kicked them off to get into bed with my kid and start writing this blog.

Finding my Keds made me think about a few things. First of all, when little things in our lives show-up and remind us of who we are, or remind us of home when we're very far away from there, it's not crazy to want to hold onto them. Even if you don't really feel like yourself right then and there, if you see something that brings you a little bit of home when you're far away, it's something worth holding onto, even if it's as insignificant as a pair of corduroy shoes.

Second of all, you gotta go with your gut. For 4 years, I've been hanging onto this shoe. What use does ONE shoe have? Absolutely nothing at all- it literally was of no use to me. Yet, for whatever reason on the planet, something about me just couldn't let that shoe go. Something in my gut told me to hold onto that shoe- despite my mother's protest to throw it away because it was taking up space - and I couldn't explain it, it made no logical sense whatsoever, but I held onto that shoe.

I guess it made me realize that, even when it's hard, makes absolutely no logical sense, and takes up space in your closet, and you want to give up and throw it away...you shouldn't. You can hold onto it if that's what feels right. Sometimes things are truly worth the wait.

Scrubbin' Bubblin'

So I passed the bar exam! Woohoo!!! It was wonderful, relieving, and very exciting news. I just found out on Thursday, but I feel like ever since then, I’ve automatically had more time. It’s weird – the only thing that’s changed is that I’ve stopped worrying about it – even subconsciously – and the release of all of my mental energy that went into worrying about it has created room for me to get more things done around here. So, the past couple days I’ve thought to myself: what have I been meaning to do for the past six weeks..months…(years?)…that I just have not had time to do? I made a fairly short list including the following: finish Henrik’s baby book, sort through all of my paperwork (bills, pay stubs, etc…right now it just goes into my “important things” drawer and when I open it papers fly out…), take my Minnesota driver’s test (still have an AZ license, oops), or clean out my car. I thought about this for awhile and knew I had a precious few hours today to accomplish one of these forgotten/overlooked tasks. After a trip to Caribou Coffee, driving back home, I took a long, hard look at my car and thought: I HAVE to clean out my car...everything else can wait. This is getting downright nasty. How on earth did I let it get this bad? Why didn't someone say something? Sheesh!! So, I parked in the back, grabbed five grocery bags, some windex and paper towels, and went to town.

Now, I’m tempted to make a list of everything I found in my car…but after my last blog, my ex-boyfriend sent me an email that said, “Alicia, if I were to make a list of qualities I want in a woman, #1 on my list would be that she doesn’t make lists of everything…” I thought he maybe had a point, as I tend to make a lot of lists. Anyways – I’m not going to make a list of the contents of my extreme makeover car-edition extravaganza, but I will let you know that I found pool-floaties, sunscreen, and sandals from last summer in there.. not to mention about 8 coffee mugs and Halloween candy..it was brutal.

In any event, it’s clean now, and I feel a strange sense of accomplishment for doing something that I ignored for so long, but when I finally did it and confronted the mess head-on, it really wasn’t so bad after all.

Now, this really got me thinking. I’m going to philosophize for a minute here, so stay with me. But it’s weird what happens when we face things we’re afraid to face. I look at my car almost as a reflection of myself: it looks fine from the outside, but on the inside it’s very, very messy. And yet, I drove around with that mess for..how many weeks? Months? Years? I was so afraid of how long it would take, or how much I would dig up in my trunk, or how many things I thought I had lost or forgotten but really were just hiding, or any of the above of what would come out of me cleaning out my car that I simply never did it. I ignored the mess, thought it didn’t really matter, it wasn’t that big of a deal, and I’d “get to it eventually.”

I can’t speak for my readers, (the 3 of you, and my mom), but I can assume that a lot of you probably walk around with your own personal mess, for fear of what would happen if you really, truly confront it. This might be things like maybe you’re stuck in a relationship that you’re afraid to get out of, or maybe you carry too many secrets, or maybe you’ve never dealt with that one person who hurt you when you were a child, or maybe it’s finally losing that weight. Whatever it is, carrying those burdens and walking around with those messes inside you can build up a lot over time, and cause a lot more problems and moldy situations that you can handle, or should handle, by yourself.

I guess if you are feeling like you are hiding a mess – you might want to take the time to really look at it and try to clean it up a little bit. Instead of saying “I’ll do it tomorrow” or “I don’t have time” or “I’m too scared” or “It will be too much work”, grab a few grocery bags and some Windex, put on some flip-flops, and get scrubbing that soul of yours. You might find some moldy, left-over Taco Bell, but you might also find your black silk scarf that you thought you lost. Oh yeah, and if you need a friend, call me – I’m the Queen of Soul Scrubbing and, of recent times, cleaning out cars. :-)

The checklist.

So today, as something I'm doing for my emotional self, I got the idea to make a list of qualities that men need to have before I consider going out with them...even once. Now, it's quite amusing I've never done this before, but I got the idea while chatting with Jackie today. She told me that I have a habit of missing the "red flags" in guys, or I see the red flag, ignore it, and date the guy anyway - only for it to end up being some hilariously tragic story that I end up re-telling because it's almost impossible to make up (maybe I'll blog about some of these stories...). To give myself a better set of guidelines, I've compiled a list (with help from Jackie) of the requirements, must have's, preferences, and absolute NO's for the guys I date. I'm going to print this and keep it in my purse to pull out when I go out to the bars.. (I kid, I kid). The list has been slightly edited for content (my mom reads my blog), but it's mostly there.

This weekend was Henrik's 3rd birthday, and I've considered blogging about that, but since I've had a lot of touchy-feely blogs lately, I've decided to switch gears and go back to being what I'm best at: laughing at myself. So, maybe I'll write about my sweet little dude again here soon, but for now, I'm trying to find a sweet adult dude to hang around our house, take out my trash, and put up with my crazy I call my life. So, in the spirit of finding this poor ol' sap, I've compiled my checklist. Enjoy. :-) (Note: Please read with a sense of humor. And, this is my list, not yours, so if you are offended, I apologize, but please note it wasn't my intention.)

1. Age (between 25-39)

2. Education – college or more

3. EMPLOYED – “I’m a part-time freelance photographer” DOESN’T COUNT

4. Owns a Car - preferably a small, fuel-efficient car

a. May drive an SUV, truck, or sportscar if the following are met:

1. He is an avid camper/biker and needs a bigger vehicle

2. He’s in a profession that requires it or it’s a company vehicle

3. He’s the coach of a sports team and needs to lug the equipment around

a. Jeep or Jeep Wranglers do not count as SUV’s

4. Sportscar ONLY if :

a. It’s a classic

b. He repaired it

c. He lets me drive it

5. Lives alone or with ONE roommate

a. May live with parents IF the following are met:

1. He’s paying off some student loans from GRAD SCHOOL

2. He’s recently (within 3 months) moved out of a joint home w/roommates and is looking for a place

3. He’s recently moved out of a place with a girlfriend or wife (but not within 6 months- then he’s still undateable)

6. Good/stable relationship with family, including but not limited to the following:

a. He talks to both of his parents

b. His family gets together for holidays

c. He’s close with at least one of his siblings

7. Successful dating history, including but not limited to the following:

a. Has had a minimum of one relationship that lasted longer than six months

8. Life experience

a. Has traveled (out of the country)

b. Has gone through something hard (parents divorce, a death, single parent,his own divorce, some medical problem, etc.)

9. Never been to jail (unless it’s something hilarious like streaking, or for something he believes in, like protesting)

10. No chemical abuse issues (edited for MOM)

11. Has faith (not Atheist)

a. But not crazy religious. If he routinely says, “I’ll pray for you” or tells you to “Pray about it” when you have problems, RUN.

12. NOT a Mormon or Jehovas Witness, other than that, diverse religions are ok, just as long as he believes in something

13. Isn’t worried about being seen in public with you

14. Isn’t clingy

Note: Clingy is like obscenity: impossible to define, but we know it when we see it.

15. SINGLE – “I’m separated from my wife” DOES NOT MEAN SINGLE or “We’re on a break” DOES NOT MEAN SINGLE or “I have a girlfriend, but it’s not going to work out” DOES NOT MEAN SINGLE

16. (edited for MOM)

17. Doesn’t tell me I’m crazy, but knows that I am and likes it

18. Knows what to do when I’m having my crazy-time (i.e, brings me Spaghettios or mashed potatoes and a Diet Coke)

19. Doesn’t cry more than me, but cries when dogs die and when his team loses

20. Must prefer to drink at dive bars

21. Must not be more into his looks than I am

22. Must drink beer and/or hard liquor

23. Must NOT drink martinis, white wine, or anything pink

24. If he looks JCrew he’s in; If he likes JCrew, he’s out

25. Must NOT make anti-female comments

26. Must love dogs and is never mean to animals

27. Must laugh at inappropriate jokes

28. Democrat or middle of the road; no staunch Republicans

29. Must have voted for Obama

30. Must have read at least 2 books in the past year

31. Would prefer to read the book, not see the movie

32. Doesn’t know designers. If a guy asks me, “Is that the new Marc Jacobs?” I’m out.

33. Likes baseball

34. Tries on some level to stay in shape

35. Isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty

36. Walks the walk, doesn’t just talk the talk

37. Facebook page = optional

38. Doesn’t make fun of me for my Facebook addiction

39. Dealbreaker: he tells me to change my hair

38. Dealbreaker: he tells me how much money he makes without me asking

39. Dealbreaker: he doesn’t tip the server

40. Dealbreaker: my dog doesn’t like him

41. Dealbreaker: he drives an Escalade

42. Dealbreaker: he smells bad

43. Dealbreaker: he’s so skinny that he makes me feel fat

44. Dealbreaker: he’s too impatient to wait in lines

45. Dealbreaker: bad teeth

46. Dealbreaker: afraid of commitment

47. Dealbreaker: sends his food/drink back for something minor

48. Dealbreaker: asks me to meet his parents on the 2^nd date

49. Dealbreaker: asks me to blow into the breathalyzer machine in his car for him so he can start it (this actually happened to me once)

And last but not least, perhaps the most important:

50. He reads to my kid.

So far...

So, it's about Day 3 of my 30-day challenge, and so far, I'm surprised at the already recognizable results of my personal little challenge. I find myself smiling more, and almost relieved that I'm being sure to check-in with myself throughout the day. There was a couple times today that I literally thought to myself: what did I do for myself today?

Perhaps the most startling thing I've found out is that, whether or not I do something concrete for myself, the mere idea of checking in with myself has changed my frame of mind. I keep thinking: why the heck didn't I do this sooner?

A few things I've done: I went for a run yesterday, and did a few (10) sit-ups today. I managed to read some poetry this morning before work, (about 30 seconds worth) and said a quick prayer yesterday as I was driving to Target with Henrik. ("God, grant me patience for this trip to Target during rush hour.") I touched base with a couple friends of mine who are downright depressed right now because they can't find jobs, took a few deep breaths of my favorite scented candle, and burst out laughing when I thought about this hysterical You Tube video that Steve sent me. (If you want a link to it, let me know.)

...

Come to think of it, those are things I do almost everyday (minus the sit-ups). Perhaps it's a matter of simply focusing on the beauty of my life, rather than the problems....

Before I shut this laptop so I can watch Toy Story 3 (again) with Henrik before bedtime, I'll share the poem I came across, and now which I read every morning. It's weird when we stumble upon things that, at a certain point in your life, could not be any more on point with what we are dealing with. This poem is one of those things for me. Alas, it's all about timing. Enjoy!

The Journey

By: Mary Oliver

One day you finally knew

what you had to do, and began,

though the voices around you

kept shouting

their bad advice --

though the whole house

began to tremble

and you felt the old tug

at your ankles.

"Mend my life!"

each voice cried.

But you didn't stop.

You knew what you had to do,

though the wind pried

with its stiff fingers

at the very foundations --

though their melancholy

was terrible.

It was already late

enough, and a wild night,

and the road full of fallen

branches and stones.

But little by little,

as you left their voices behind,

the stars began to burn

through the sheets of clouds,

and there was a new voice,

which you slowly

recognized as your own,

that kept you company

as you strode deeper and deeper

into the world,

determined to do

the only thing you could do --

determined to save

the only life you could save.

Operation: Me

Well, I haven’t blogged for awhile, but I’ve decided that it’s time to get back on my writing wagon again. I haven’t been blogging for lack of desire; it’s that I simply find myself not having the time. That, and in sum, for the past month, I've been incredibly, incredibly exhausted.

My exhaustion is what has inspired me to write this very post. Taking the bar exam and then immediately going to work fulltime, and continuing to raise a brilliant child as a single parent has left me…well…in every sense of the term, pooped. A typical day starts with me waking up at 5am (I think my upstairs neighbor wakes up at that time, and it just wakes me up). I then toss and turn for about an hour, and then I fall back asleep in a light snooze for about 30 minutes before my alarm startles me. During this 30 minute snooze, I’ll have anywhere between 3-7 dreams; some are the most beautiful and calming and loving dreams; and some of them are the most horrific of nightmares, the kind that wake you up in a sweat and panic, and I have to immediately turn on the light and check my phone to make sure it still works. (I don’t know why I do this, I think I always just want to make sure I can get a hold of somebody if I need to).

In any event, after this irritating snooze fest, I get out of bed, let the dog out, make a cup of coffee, and start packing my lunch and Henrik’s lunch. The next 8-10 hours are pretty fast-paced. I love my job, but it’s nothing short of intense. Listening to people argue all day can be draining, as well as reviewing photos of bruises and chipped teeth from the abuse that my client has suffered at the hands of her husband. By the time the clock strikes 5:00, I’m ready to put my feet up with a glass of wine and a magazine.

But, alas, that is not the case for me every night. Life happens; some days when I get to daycare, Henrik says, “MOMMYY!!!” and runs right up to me and hugs me and is ready to go. Other days, in his 2-year-old glory, he catches his first glimpse of me and runs in the other direction and throws a full-blown tantrum because he doesn’t want to go home with me. Makes me feel like telling the daycare ladies, “I SWEAR I don’t abuse my child! I swear!!!” And obviously, those days are a little bit more rough. We round our day out by coming home, letting the dog out, cooking dinner, watching some Caillou, reading a couple books, and I usually eventually get around to that glass of wine.

Now, reading back all of this, it doesn’t sound THAT bad. I realize plenty of people have lives far worse than mine– and I’ll say it again- I’m grateful for my family, my job, and all the blessings in my life. However, all of my gratefulness in the world does not erase the fact that, at the end of the day, I’m spiritually, mentally, and physically exhausted. Coupled with the nightmares, which obviously signify that not everything is going peachy in my subconscious or in my surroundings, I’m sad to report that I’ve gained about 10 pounds. In addition to my nightmares, my extra lbs, and my lack of sleep, this has also caused me to be much less patient with Henrik, and I find myself getting very short with him and raising my voice more often than I’d like. This, in and of itself, has made me realize that some things need to change around here.

This exhaustion came to a head last weekend. It’s been 4+ weeks since the bar exam; and I think I was running on pure adrenaline for the first two weeks after the exam. Then last weekend, something happened. I hit my second metaphorical and literal wall, fell asleep Saturday night around midnight, and slept straight through until NOON on Sunday. (Henrik was at Grandma's).

Helloooooo wakeup call! I woke up feeling refreshed, regenerized , and focused. At least until that night, when I was able to fall asleep at 9pm.

All this has made me realize that, in short, nothing about my life is going to change much, God-willing, for quite some time. I will be working full-time and (based on the tragedy I call my dating life), I’ll be a single mom for quite some time. All of this has just dawned on me, and I’ve come to the conclusion that I need to make some changes around here before I simply collapse one day and sleep for 6 days. I mean, I'm not going to be able to get 12 hours of sleep every weekend to make up for my hectic week.

So, to the point of this blog. I’ve decided to create my own 30-day challenge. I’ve decided that for the next 30 days, I’m going to do something good for myself every single day. I’m going to do something that’s good for me physically, emotionally and spiritually. I feel like due to my schedule and stress, I’ve realized, if I don’t take care of myself, who will?

The things I do for myself might range anywhere from taking a break in the middle of the day to just step out of my office and soak in the sun for 10 minutes and take some deep breaths. Currently, I am at my desk from 8 until 5 and I never remember eating lunch because I usually shovel the frozen meal in my mouth as fast as I can while I’m trying to get the papers out before deadline. This, I’m going to change.

Other things I might do include getting back into my workout routine, writing everyday, taking a break to watch some comedy on YouTube, sit and stare out my window drinking tea for five minutes, get my nails done, pray, meditate, Yoga, shop online, do some situps, jog, or play pretend firefighters with Henrik for 15 minutes instead of fretting about getting dishes done.

Right now, if I’m ever doing any of those things, I’m also doing 3 other things at the same time. I think I’m taking a break if I’m eating lunch at my desk while paying a bill and texting. Umm…that’s not a break when your brain is still engaged in so many activities.

I think the purpose of this 30 day challenge is that, simply put, I need to let myself rest a little bit. I want to feel good about myself inside and out, spiritually, emotionally, and physically, and right now I feel like a chubby, grouchy single mom who has too many nightmares and not enough dreams.

My goal is to write about this every single night. Some might be short, but at the end of the day, I want to ask myself, what did I do for myself today? How did I take care of myself today? Mom's are used to beating themselves up and running on adrenaline - putting other people needs first instead of their own. We can't help it, it's who we are, but sometimes we need to put some of that energy back into ourselves.

So, today is Day 1 of my 30 day challenge, Operation: Me. My happy and peace-filled self is in here somewhere, I just need to find her. Who's with me?

The Wall

Nope, this blog isn't about Pink Floyd, although it is about a wall. And I don't mean just any wall. I mean, THE WALL. Not the Great Wall, but a Wall that, when you hit it, it might as well be the Great Wall.

So I'm studying for the bar exam right now, and, to be honest, it's absolutely, hands-down, one of the most intensive, awful, excruciatingly intensive things I've ever done in my entire life. I've been through the ringer a few times, but this is downright terrible. I always wondered before what makes studying for the bar exam so awful, and now I know. This test isn't a test of your knowledge alone; it's a test of knowledge, strength, endurance, capacity, and sanity. It literally tests you to see what you are capable of.

I seriously can't articulate how hard this is, or how much it sucks. But, since I can't explain that, what I can explain is my theory lately on hitting the wall.

So, there's a movie called "Run, Fatboy, Run" that was directed by David Schwimmer and it came out a few years ago. It never made any money or anything, but for some reason I thought the title was funny so I ordered it on Netflix. This movie, honestly, was one of the best movies I've ever seen. But what made it great was the message from the movie, which, summed up, is this: when you hit your wall, in whatever arena of your life, look behind you and find what pushed you in the first place. That what pushed you, will keep you going, and help you climb over this wall.

In the movie, the main character is a man whose beautiful wife and kid left him for some other guy who is skinnier and richer. Typical story, right? Well Mr. New and Improved is a runner, so the main character decides to take up running so he can compete with the new guy and regain the attention and affection of his beautiful wife. Long story short, the man decides to train and run for a marathon.

During this marathon, he, inevitably, hits THE WALL. This wall is something that runners are familiar with. It's the point during your run when it's almost as if an intervening cause has occurred, and the heavens above have lowered a million pounds onto your body and placed an immovable gate in front of you. Your legs want to stop moving, as if they are filled with lead, your head starts to spin and you begin to see things, your breath stops in your chest and your feet start schlepping on the sidewalk. The very first time I ever hit a wall on a run I stopped, dead in my tracks, and wondered aloud what on earth had just happened to me. I walked the rest of my run. Its an out-of-body experience that convinces you that, suddenly, you are completely incapable of moving another step.

When the guy in that movie hits his wall, he stops and looks behind him. In his hardly lucid, dream-like state, he turns around and sees the woman, the love of his life, and his son. After seeing them behind him, he somehow miraculously gathers the strength to move forward and finish the race.

Well, with studying, I've hit my wall. Now, studying for this exam, you're bound to hit your wall on several different occasions. It has made me stop and think to myself, "Who is behind me that I can look at to keep me going?" And that answer is plentiful - but it also may not always be the person you think, or for the reasons you think.

Sometimes when I hit my wall, I turn around and see Henrik smiling at me with his Caillou shirt on and a highlighter in his hand, because lately he only ever sees me holding highlighters, so every picture he draws he draws it with a highlighter so he can be like mommy. I picture this, and I can somehow keep going.

Then there's the different sort of motivation that you see when you hit your wall. For me, it's the words that I will never forget I heard when I was about 12 weeks pregnant from the person who made me that way. He said, "You'll have to quit law school. You'll never be able to do it."

....Just remembering those words made me grab a sledgehammer and abolish the wall ahead of me. Motivation just kicked right back in.

So, I guess my point is that, whatever your motivation is to do whatever it is you're trying to do, when you hit THE WALL, look back and see what pushes you through. There's a lot of different things that motivate people, you just need to find what is holding you back versus what is pushing you forward. We are all capable of climbing the wall, we just need to see who is behind us.

I love lamp

Well, the countdown has begun. The Bar Exam is less than a month away, and I'm feverishly studying. Yesterday I clocked in a solid 11 hours of studying, coming up for air only to shower and hydrate. I don't even think I ate anything until my Dad made me a steak last night. Let me rephrase, I ate some pretzels I found in my mom's "office" and some chicken nuggets that my dad threw at me from McDonalds. So, it was a fairly healthy and productive day. I've tried to wake up today and start studying again, but it's almost as if the marathon of studying yesterday put my brain on a timeout for today. All I can think about is the egg bake I'm about to make, and my new found love for Mumford & Sons. So, instead of force-feeding myself to memorize Evidence, I'm taking a timeout to update my blog.

Topic of the day for me today, (for me, for you, for me), is furniture. That may sound like a strange thing to blog about, but there's a quote from Juno that's been swirling around in my head lately so I'm feeling inclined to talk about it. (If you haven't seen Juno, watch it. If you refuse, we're not friends. I have a special connection to that movie because it came out when I was pregnant. Anyways.) To set-up the quote: Juno is a pregnant teenager who is rebellious and decides to have the baby and give it up for adoption. She develops an odd and almost inappropriate relationship with the man who is going to be her baby's new father. Juno goes up to see this guy one day while his wife is at work. When Juno gets home to her parent's house, her step-mom is upset with her and explains to her that she can't just show up at a married guy's house because that's awkward for everybody involved. Her step-mom asked her what her intention was, or why she kept going over to their house. Juno's response was something along the lines of, "I don't know, I just want to be a piece of furniture in their life, that's all."

So, I don't know why, but this quote has been tremendously on my mind. Sometimes my brain focuses on the silliest things, and I try to ignore it and dismiss it for being trivial, until I literally can't shake it out of my mind so I decide to find a reason for why it's on my mind. So, I've figured out why I keep thinking about this silly, mundane quote.

Basically, studying for the bar exam, finishing law school, raising my kid, and trying to keep everything together has really made me think about the people in my life who are the furniture in my life. To me, the people who are the furniture in my life aren't the people that I talk to every single day. They're not my best friends, the people I call when I'm crying, or the people I call to talk about my day. They're not my parents, or even my close family members who I know I can rely on 100%. I think the people who are the furniture in my life are the people that, to be honest, I might forget about them from time to time, but I know that if they disappeared from my life, I would miss them incredibly.

It's kind of like this lamp at my parent's house. My parent's have this lamp that they got when I was a sophomore in high school. I remember this lamp in particular because when they got it and brought it home, it needed to be assembled. My high school boyfriend, Travis, was at our house when they brought it home, an he decided to flex his man muscles and assemble the lamp. About 3 1/2 hours later, he had it put together. Over the past 13-14 years or so (wow) that lamp has traveled from room to room around my parents house. It's not like I'm in love with this lamp, or it's the most fascinating piece of furniture on the planet, but it's more of just a staple around here. I do notice it and admire it from time to time, and I love how it reminds me of that night when Travis attempted for hours to assemble it, but like I said, it's nothing really spectacular.

What I do know about it though, is that even though it's nothing particularly amazing, I know i would truly miss it if it were gone.

Now, I'll make my point, if you've stayed with me through this mumbo jumbo. Lately, I've felt eternally grateful for all the furniture people in my life. These people are the ones that, when I think about it, if they were ever out of my life I would miss them dearly, even though they're not a part of my daily life. It's more like they're woven into the fabric of my life, and if they disappeared, my fabric would be missing a few threads. I'm not going to name any names, but some of the people who are furniture in my life are, for example, some of my friends' parents or siblings. These people are people I've known for years, and we probably go years without seeing each other, but they're important enough to me that if they disappeared, I know I would be seriously missing them.

Yesterday I studied the day away in my mom's "office" which is her old hair salon which she now converted into an "office." This little lamp of ours has managed to end up in this "office" and wouldn't you know that I turned it on yesterday when I needed to shed more light on my Criminal Procedure notes. Every time I use that lamp, I'm reminded fondly of that silly night when it was assembled, but also how much has changed since then. However, it's nice that, despite how much has changed around my parents house since we were kids, that little lamp is steadfast and remains the same.

In general, I'm incredibly thankful for the people who are the furniture in my life. I know I don't see them much, talk to them much, or even think about them that often, but I'm happy that they are who they are, and I'm happy they're still around and taking some sort of odd interest in this crazy life of mine. If you consider yourself a piece of furniture in my life, and I'm a piece of furniture in yours, let this be a mutual acknowledgment of our steady, if distant, place in each other's lives. If I'm your furniture, know that I'm here when you need me, but won't be offended if you never need to use me to put your feet up, or shed some light on your life. Sometimes just knowing you have a place to rest your feet is important enough.

Now that I've done a little bit of soul-scrubbing for the day, I guess I'll go back to reviewing my Evidence notes. I guess I needed to get that off my chest because I know I'm kind of a disappearing act lately - especially with studying, working, and raising a kid, I tend to not return phone calls, respond to email messages, or occasionally forget conversations that I have with people. So to any of you whom I've vanished on, I apologize. I think that Juno quote was circulating in my brain so I would take a moment to truly thank everybody who is awesome and kind enough to desire to be a piece of furniture in my life. Thank you, my fellow sofas, lamps, and end tables. You are acknowledged and loved.