couldn't have said it better

Sometimes other people say it better. 

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running away

beginnings can be hard. while some things, some people, are old hat, there are others that are entirely new. you find yourself constantly torn between being inside and outside your comfort zone. 

and time marches on. the days become longer and the daylight shorter. your children start driving you stark crazy mad. you work on your days off to get it all done. you worry, you cry, you eat too much chocolate. and suddenly, it's october and you are constantly curbing the urge to stand up from behind the desk and walk out and just keep walking. 

or maybe that's just me.

adjusting to this new year has been difficult at times. this is the first time i've returned to anything since my junior year of college about four years ago. and perhaps that has been too long because i have totally forgotten what it is like coming back to something. 

but i'm learning. 

and in the meanwhile, between going crazy and trying to be in the moment, between juggling my own emotional status and that of the teenagers under my care, between doing it all and not having it together...all i could think about was running away. 

and about a week and a half ago i got my wish. 

it happened exactly as i had hoped. two very good friends. one beautiful day. a tank of gas. and the Michigan peninsula. 

we were all at lunch and they looked at me saying, "cancel your afternoon. we are just going to get in the car and drive north until we don't feel like driving anymore..."

and that's what happened. 

we drove up the coast. we stopped along the way, took so many pictures, drove along the tunnel of trees up to the mackinac bridge and waved to canada. we skipped and ate fried fish and sat at a local bar eavesdropping on conversations. we sang loudly to 90s boy bands and ended up sitting in the dark watching the stars. 

in the end we had to come back to our lives, our co-workers, our students. but we came back with the fall air crisp in our lungs, headaches from laughing so hard we cried, and happy hearts. 

sometimes all you need is to run away. 

Torch Lake, MI 

the runaways 

the tunnel of trees

picturesque michigan

st. ignace, MI

good night michigan!

that time i was an amateur photographer

This is Madeline. Isn't she lovely? Writer, musician, vocalist, dreamer, friend, and killer hall counselor -- I am so happy to be her friend and get to spend more time with her this year. I was thrilled and honored to be asked to take a few shots of her this afternoon for her amazing blog musings by madeline, which everyone must check out (it's hysterical).

Here's a little sampling of our afternoon. Thank you Madeline! 

22

LC, Mamma C, and me

She is the other half of me. The light to my dark. She’s the one who can finish the crossword, who is an ace at math, who asked to borrow my Shakespeare books so she would have something to do on the weekends. She has beauty and brains and a presence that makes her like an old Hollywood movie star. The fact that she knows all the words to most black and white movies and every 90s sitcom. I’m in awe of her really. Those short curls and totally hipster clothing-- worn in a way that’s not trendy or ironic, but in a way that speaks to her early nineties birth date and preference for grunge. She taught me how to apply eyeliner, curl my hair, and convinced me that I don’t look ridiculous in glitter eyeshadow. (Or else she lied…)

I don’t remember being the only child. I sometimes get that question, if in the years between my brother and sister came along, I remember being the only one around. And I honestly don’t. I don’t remember a time when they weren’t there. Throughout it all, they have been right there.

Laura is four years younger than I am, and yet she has lived a life. She has such an amazing story and still stands tall. She is a daughter, sister, friend, scholar, giver, and global citizen.

Yesterday she turned twenty-two.

Cheers to you my love. Happy twenty-second year. Three hundred and sixty-five days of crazy goodness. I hope you find joy and happiness in each day.

xx

mc

i LOVE this photo. she's gonna kill me

a west wing state of mind (aka: the fall funk)

oh yeah iphone. way to take those photos...

It was a good friend of mine in college who told me I’d like The West Wing. After that comment it would take me three tries and a couple of years to become addicted. Then it became the bonding moment for between me and a college roommate and I was hooked.

As it happens, I’ve started binge watching episodes of The West Wing off Netflix recently, something I’ve really only done once before. The summer after I graduated from college I moved home and would spend the hours that my parents were at work watching episode after episode until I started to know all the lines. Now, in between desk shifts and late at night I turn it on. Something about the smart wit, fast paced dialogue, and you know, the politics of it all, speaks to me. It doesn’t hurt that it is also the favorite show of some of my good friends and we spend endless hours daydreaming about being CJ Criag (and dating Josh).

Everytime I watch this show I think about being the characters. And I know a lot of people say that about a show, the characters are what get us into the story, they are what make us invested viewers. But I like REALLY think about being them because a part of me believes that I can.

After college I was in the middle of deciding what to do next. Right after graduation I was supposed to move to Washington state and work for AmeriCorps. Sometime after that I chose to withdraw that job opportunity to really refocus on my dream of serving in the Peace Corps.

At this moment I don’t know what’s next. I feel a little lost. Mentally I feel like it is much later in the year than it is; I certainly should feel like there is more time to make these decisions, and let’s be honest, really I should be enjoying the warm weather and the fall foliage and shove off these big thoughts for when they really have to come.

But we all know I’m not like that.

I’ve written about wanting to go into design. About my love of art. About moving to Charlottesville and living a life of all the wonderful and talented people I know there. About going to Scotland and studying International Development. About how graduate school was the logical next step and it was the most important. But that didn’t work out, or happen, or frankly, I just lost interest in various pursuits. Which brings me back to what I’m going to do next.

I remember the first time I began to grapple with the idea of duty. Duty to something bigger than oneself. We were living in Seattle which means I would have been at most in fifth grade. My Dad was on sea duty and we were saying goodbye. I recall it being dark so it was probably really early in the morning and we were all very upset saying goodbye for six months. (Before 9-11 much more deployments were a standard six months, now that isn’t true.) I remember my sister, in kindergarten, so upset and not understanding, asking him to stay.

It’s taken me fifteen years to really understand why he didn’t.

When it comes to my family I am very much my mother’s daughter. It’s freaky. But it’s amazing what people in your life teach you when neither one of you notices and my father instilled in me a sense of duty and honor so strong I simply can’t shake it.

I am coming the conclusion that I will end up in graduate school soon. I like the idea of being a student again. Even the long hours and coffee intake don’t scare me.

It is also coming to my attention that my love of government, my desire to affect the world I live in, my sense of duty to pay back all the good I’ve had--all of this comes above anything else I have in my head as my future.

I think the only person who is surprised at all of this is me. Just tonight one of my residents asked me, “Well Mary...What do you want to do with your future?” To which I dramatically flung my arms back in my swivel chair and groaned a little. My cohort in closing calmly turned to us and said, “She wants to save the world.”

It’s true.

And maybe at 25 it is silly. Maybe it’s naive and innocent. Maybe it’s stupid. But I think it’s possible.

I’m going to change the world.

I’m going to be CJ Craig.

I’m going to remember how to dream and rise above everyone else’s expectations. I’m going to revel in the knowledge found in very big textbooks and old professors. I’m going to continue to be different and worldly and smart. There just isn’t a way out of that.

Maybe in 10 months I’ll be moving to DC or NYC. Maybe I’ll be buying my LSAT prep book. Maybe I’ll be working for a non-profit out west.

I have to find a goal. I have to find a dream.

And I will.

One step at a time.

Meanwhile, I’m in the middle of season five of The West Wing,  and it is so good…

PS-- In case this resonates with people, I feel like this post ended very calm and centered. For the record, I don’t really feel that calm or centered. I’ve already cried on my floor this week and eaten a lot of chocolate. But I know have to keep pushing and keep believing. I just wanted to let you know the appearance of falling apart gracefully, well friends, that just ain’t the way it happens. For me at least. 

image via pinterst