2011

• Saw the bean 5 times. 

• A 4.0 and  a 3.9
• Spent a week wearing the same clothing and eating nothing but pretzels that had been expired for two months. 
• I found out what happens when the library closes at 3 am.
• Celebrated 2 years, 6 birthdays, and 3 Christmases with this guy. 

• Juggled two jobs, a full class load, my first grad school class, and I created a revolutionary new way to cook potatoes.  It's called The Jordan. 
• Officially began my life of crime as a feminist vigilante.  Code names and all.
• Ate my first tomato since 1996. I also ate a bug.
• Became friends with a wonderful redhead. 

•  Came to realize how rewarding it is to have (and defeat!) an arch nemesis.
• Handed the most intimidating professor I've ever had an 11-page literature analysis of Kanye West's first album. 
• Noticed that an unseemly number of Facebook statuses were devoted to inquires about the safety of eating certain foods after the expiration date. Apparently expiration dates don't matter and anything in a refrigerator or cupboard is edible.
• I got my first migraine during Hugh Jackman's Reel Steel and vomited in front of children.
• Experienced my first (and only) hangover. 
• Built a family with these beautiful people. 

• I pay rent and consequently find myself wondering how much having a place to live is worth. 
• Spent three hours with a stranger from Arizona doing nothing but listing things we knew about Russia. 
• Spent two months in a haunted building. 
• I was given 27 plastic rosaries and lots of fun-size packets of Skittles during this time. 
• Said, "It's hot as balls," more times than I'm proud of. 
• Saw Idina Menzel and the Cleveland Orchestra.  Magically got way better seats than I paid for. 

• Went to a strip club.  
• Graduated from RA to CA and AA. (not alcoholics anonymous)
• Did a lot of searching and thinking about what it means to have integrity.  And I think I am getting closer everyday.  
• Shoveled ice cream into my mouth with my bare hands.  And won a freakin prize for it.  I am not proud. 
• Saw every single episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer ever made. 
• Spent an entire weekend convinced that I had died and was a poltergeist in my own apartment.
• Schooled some kids. 
• I laughed and laughed all the way home. 
• I learned how to love and what to do when you can't. 
• I said, "Goodbye" when I should have said, "Nice to see you again."

Hardcandy Christmas

Today is Christmas. 
It’s been a year and I have come to understand why suicide carries the stigma it does. People like me sweep it under the rug and don’t dare to say it aloud because it is easier.

After it happened, I cried and then never talked about it.

I tried to figure out what it meant and what it was.

-It was hearing my mother scream.  This is something that doesn’t belong in real life, only movies.  Hearing a person scream in utter terror and agony is impossible to describe and impossible to forget. Pain becomes tangible. It echoes.  This sound is one I will hear forever.
-It was dialing 911, trying to articulate what I saw and having no words, only broken phrases and shallow breaths. “Killed herself,” I said.  “Dead, I think she’s…”
-It was seeing and not believing. My mom, me, and a body we couldn't look at.
-It was a frail survivor.  A person I spent the last 365 days treating like a corpse. 
-It was an upheaval, a new house in February.  A home I didn’t get to say goodbye to.
-It was hearing the strongest person I know cry in the shower.
-It was screaming profanities and shaking so badly I don’t know how I stayed standing. 
-It is the inability to forgive.

So it is these screams, these painful moments and the tears that followed that I have carried in my pockets along with a holiday that’s scratched beyond recognition.  They make it a little harder to smile and they made me a lot less pleasant to be around. 

Reality: Sometimes people try to kill themselves.  Sometimes they actually do.  Either way, there are always people left behind, broken because they weren’t enough to live for.

It’s Christmas.  It’s been a year. And that’s all I know for sure.

Love Letters

Dear September,
You make me cold. 

Dear Senior Year,
You make me smarter.

Dear Two Jobs,
you make me tired.

Dear Sarah,

You make me tough and buff.

Dear Mom,

You make me breathe and sometimes you make me drunk.

Dear Travis,
You seem much taller lately.

Dear Jordan,

I appreciate that you always take time to hydrate. 

My Very Last Lutheran Night

My Last night in Valpo.
My Last desk shift.
My Last Camp.
Hot Damn, it's even the last time I will ever wear this polo.

Día del Padre

Happy Father’s day, Mom.  You’ve been a great dad.

• Because you taught me to find solace on the road.  
• 2005:  you put 1,220 miles between me and my problems that seemed so momentous at the time.  This infected me with the wanderlust and forever changed me. 
• Because you always hand back the five when they give you too much change. 
• 1999:  Showcase Cinemas Huber Heights.  
• Because you’re really into boxing now. 
• 2011:  Proof that you’re as strong as I’ve always thought.  
• Because when I was in elementary school, you were the mom who made sure the kids who couldn’t afford glue sticks and markers had all the supplies they needed. 
• 2000:  We didn’t have that much money to spare but Michael and Brandon had even less. 
• Because when I was in 8th grade and wore fishnets and combat boots to school, you were proud of me for being my own person, even though the 11th graders called me a skank.  
• 2004:  You said the Ghostbuster T-shirt looked sharp with the boots. 
• Because you had the strength and education to save us from a situation that could have ruined our lives. 
• 1996:  We ran from his addiction. 

 I love you Mom/Dad.  You're my best friend. [And I'm not just saying that because you buy me margaritas.]

Oh, and you too.

Every night before bed I make a gratitude list and there are items that are permanently at the top.  [My mom, my brother, grandma, Bob, Mr. Anderson]  People come first.  I'm so unbelievably gracious for the friends I have and the love, laughter and support they are responsible for. 

Subsequently, my thankfulness extends to the opportunities that make me better. 

I am grateful for:
the Lutheran university that currently employs me.
said university's close proximity to Chicago.
the colorful and brilliant individuals who populate aforementioned university.
the growth this experience is cultivating.
Guinness
my solar powered flashlight.

If your eyes are dancing with these words, I hope you don't have to delve too deep to find your gratitude.  Try to keep it close and pull it out often.  It is important and humbling to say thank you, even if you don't know who you're saying it too. 

Centennial

This is my 100th post!  I can only hope that I get to live as many years, love as many people, and see as many sunrises.

Continuing at this rate means my bicentennial post won’t appear until 2014 (I’m obviously a prolific blogger).  Because my blogging behavior can be considered sporadic and trivial I figured my 100th post should mean something, that it should celebrate the most important thing I’ve ever had to say. 

I’m still sorting out what I want to say to this world I don’t understand, so it’s the thing I know to be true.