A Story is a Story is a Story

I love stories. Always have, always will. And I've never been particular about how I receive a story. Sure, books tend to be my favorite method, but I'm not too proud to watch movies or even *gasp!* television. A story is, in fact, a story. Stories sweep us away to places where we can escape reality or find solutions to our own issues or even just have fun. God-willing, I'm passing this appreciation for stories to my girl. So far, so good.

But my intention in writing this blog is to continue the tradition of sharing the thing that best binds us together: stories. I've addressed some of the major challenges in my life and some of the issues that haunt me. But you know what I haven't really expressed? The pure fun of storytelling.

I have some old standbys and some current favorites.

Old standbys: 

The first pop culture story I remember obsessing over was Buffy the Vampire Slayer (sadly, I admit, the movie version; I still claim, however, that I was so intuitive in recognizing a good story that I simply recognized Buffy's and Joss's brilliance well-ahead of their time). Buffy was never just the spooky story with the silly name. Buffy always meant so much more:

Many people dismiss Buffy as trivial. Joss Whedon, after creating and bringing-to-life Buffy, gained international acclaim as writer & director of The Avengers, one of the most (successful, financially AND critically) testosterone-driven films ever. So why do I value his stories so much? Well, a blog is limited by both time and space, but here's just a sampling of my appreciation for this man's vision.

I have a daughter. (Understood? Because I'm not even close to finished telling you about her!) A wildly successful, creative, and articulate man is blazing the trail FOR MY DAUGHTER, and every other little (or big) girl in today's world. How do we NOT value the tremendous efforts of his storytelling?

The first film I remember loving and holding dear is Tombstone. I have the DVD (old-school, I know) and make it a point to watch it whenever I can. Why? Because the story, based on true events, seeps with authenticity.

Books, movies, and yes, television shows, have the ability to make us think, feel, and bring us together. I forever revert to my old favorites, but what holds my attention today? So glad you asked...😉

I'm a slave to imagination. I love stories that drip with clearly-fictional elements while commenting pervasively on real-world issues. My current favorites? Once Upon A Time and The Walking Dead.

Once Upon A Time is grounded (???) in the world of fairytales, some of my favorite stories ever. And because I'm human, I'm also drawn to this...

...this...

...and this...

Who doesn't want the dashing hero (and good Gawd a'mighty, how perfectly delicious is Colin O'Donoghue?!!?) willing to play a bit dirty for his true love. There's an eternal appeal and, yes, FUN, to the idea of Happily Ever After.

And just in case you have a greater interest in the grittier side of life, well, The Walking Dead meets your needs. I love it on my own:

But it's amazing to see how, with both of these shows (and yes, so very many others) the way total strangers around the world alone and together gather in hopes of getting a well-deserved happy ending:

Isn't it crazy (and cool and beautiful and mind-blowing) how "normal" people bond together over...stories? Yes, stories are the driving force of our heartbeats. I could place the responsibility on strangers, but that would be deceptive. This is what was happening during the latest TWD with two of my dear friends and fellow teachers:

It's intense, and it's real, and it's just plain fun! Stories sweep us away, and I love riding out the wave.

Is there a show or film or book that feeds your soul?! Eat and drink (and read, listen, or watch) deeply, and do so without guilt, because stories are the very best thread that binds us together. I wish you the best on your personal journey to Happily. Ever. After.

Sweet dreams!

50 Strands of Gray

I was ELATED when I woke up this morning because 1. I'd actually slept kind of-sort of through the night and 2. Today was the last day of work before Thanksgiving vacation. Parent conferences went well last night, I knew what I needed to do to prepare for the day's meetings, and I even had my outfit --top to tips -- laid out and ready to go. Except, my hair had become a bit of a disheveled mess overnight, so I felt compelled to give it some extra love...when looking in the mirror to straighten it, I discovered...

.

.

.

And fine, you might not be able to tell I'm actually holding a gray hair, but you can certainly see the several other silver strands that *POOF* appeared overnight (root to end, too...it wasn't even a slowly-creeping-down-the-roots deal, either!).

I did what any other woman would do: I wailed like a banshee until Brian strolled up behind me and had to admit, yep, he saw them, too. He tried to soothe the sting by calling me a "silver fox" but neither version I envisioned -- 

or 

did much to help my "crisis." (Although...be honest...how cool is Granny with her cigar? Rock on, sister.)

So I whined and fussed and lamented my misfortune. But the strange thing is, I actually felt kind of excited. Why? Well, there are a few reasons. 

1. This is a photo of my parents on their wedding day.

They were both 18 (EEEK!!!). That seems so very young until you realize they were married for less than 17 years. See, my dad died in a motorcycle accident in 1990; he was 35, and I was only six years old. It does not escape my notice that, as of October 12, 2018, I will be 35 and Grace will be six years old. She does seem to be following in my footsteps, no?

So the very notion of mortality weighs on my mind as I approach 35, an age that has floated around my subconscious for as long as I can remember.

2. I was a good kid. Really. And yet, I still did this...

...yes, a tongue-ring AND cornrows...for SENIOR PROM! Junior prom wasn't much better.

Always pushing the boundaries in relatively harmless ways. ("Dat back, tho!") Of course, it was all an experiment in finding my way. Which brings me to today: 

3. I am in my 10th year of teaching in one district, I just celebrated my 9th wedding anniversary, and my daughter just turned (a very precocious, I add all-too-proudly) 3 years old. This is my family.

We cuddle on the sofa to watch cartoons before going to sleep before 9pm most nights, and we take family selfies (felfies?) to entertain ourselves. I call my mom and dad (technically step-dad, but family isn't all about blood, you know) at least once a day. I adore my brother, sister-in-law, and nephew, and I continually marvel that my brother is not just a sibling, but a best friend, as well. 

And you know what? I am so damn proud of the simple, stable, and "normal" life I've created for myself. I've earned every single gorgeous gray hair sprouting from my head. I'll earn wrinkles and crows-feet, too (already have a bit, if I'm being honest). And I will wear each badge of age with pride. Even as I was doing the obligatory complaining about my "mature" new hair color, I was reminded of a humbling truth:

Dear Lord, I thank you for each moment of each day. May I wear my experience with pride. 

Gray hair, don't care? Almost...because I'm so grateful I've made it this far.

Just What I Needed

Holiday season always seems to be as challenging as it is joyous. This year seems to have delivered an extra swift kick to the teeth of just about everyone I know. There's been loss and anxiety and conflict and an all-around aura of difficulty. It makes me just want to curl up in a cozy spot with a good book and a cup of tea. And as is often the case, the world of storytelling knew just what I needed and when I needed it...

I received my newest OwlCrate, which perked me up since it meant an awesome new book. The month's theme is Myths and Legends, which holds tremendous possibility, and it delivered (quite literally!)!

So I want to curl up with a book and a mug of tea? Boom! It's like they know my soul.

That's right, it's Red Riding Hood tea! 

It smells heavenly, and how gorgeous is that tin?!

So in the first moments of opening the Crate, my dreams for comfort and escape have been met. Hard to beat that, and the rest of the box was really just bonus. 

I LOVELOVELOVE the necklace; it's just extra glorious-ness that someone was brilliant enough to name a business The Geeky Cauldron.

All-in-all, this has been my favorite OwlCrate so far.

Yes, the surprise is fun and the book looks awesome and the book-ish treats were extra-great this month...but why? 

It always comes back to the story. It sweeps you away, it brings you joys and challenges beyond (or maybe just within?...) your wildest imagination. Myths and legends and, for me in particular, fairy tales, are some of our most treasured stories. They've lasted almost longer than forever, and they still matter to us...we still want to be the hero who slays the dragon using magic and wit to achieve a happy ending. 

OwlCrate is the noble sidekick on my journey through a traditionally difficult time of year, and I'm glad they've brought me a ticket to "Once Upon a Time."

Feel free to share any and all of your favorite stories with me, and happy reading!

My heART

My daughter is sound asleep. Exhausted after a weekend sleepover with her grandparents, she has not a care in the world.

As she's been sleeping, I've been contemplating to what degree I want to incorporate the terrorist attacks from this past weekend into my upcoming lesson plans. With my current class text, my students and I have been discussing how beautiful imagery is used to convey terrible messages. Outpourings of support for France following attacks illustrate (literally) the point.

So I'm left wondering: how do I go about teaching the value of the arts and literature and the humanities to not only classrooms full of teenagers, but also to my wonderfully innocent little girl? When the news is overflowing with headlines in varying degrees of tragedy and heartache, can I -- in good conscience -- espouse the importance of creativity and imagination, seemingly insignificant in the grand scheme of things, as a way to develop empathy and compassion?

For once, the answer is simple: of course. I would rationalize that thinking with my own experiences, but this time, I'm going to share the burden of that response with others who agree.

Yes, the world is a scary place full of dragons (and much worse)...but we can overcome the fear. We must overcome the fear.

We just need to listen.

I've said before, and I'll say again, that stories are the strongest thread that bind us together. Stories - real, imagined, or a colorful hybrid of both - provide shared experiences even if we're literally alone. Stories remind us that we're human, and to be human is our greatest common denominator. When my beautiful girl wakes from her sleep, and when my world-weary students trudge through the classroom doors, I will continue to not only share stories with them, but I will tell my own stories while giving them an audience for their tales. Because that's what I do.

Because that's what we do.❤️

The Other Piece of My Puzzle

If my brother has always been there for me and my daughter has shown me how to love unconditionally, Brian is the one who taught me that real, true love is tough, requires effort, and is worth every bit of it. Here's my love -- say "hi"!

See, Brian was supposed to be the rebound guy, the one who helped me remember that dating could be simple and fun after ending a two-year relationship. And cut to twelve years later...

Married with a daughter and a shared propensity for goofy selfie faces (poor Grace got it, too).

So how'd that happen? 

Was it his way with words? Nah...the first thing he ever said to me was, "Hey, you had my mom...as a teacher." Nope, not it.

His unyielding attempts to woo me? I paid for our first non-double date since he forgot ("forgot"?) his wallet, so no.

His philanthropy and overall good influence? Our first date *may* have been the first time I threw back a shot (or nine), so it wasn't that, either. (Sorry, Mom!)

It's simple enough. Brian makes me laugh. And not just giggle, but a full-on wheezing, snorting, tears-falling belly-laugh.

And I've always played it safe, always done the sensible thing. He pushes me to push myself...and if I don't, he's not beyond a well-placed shove to get me started.

It's because of Brian that I've done thrill rides atop The Stratosphere in Las Vegas, gone snorkeling during a downpour in the Bahamas, and flew above the water while parasailing in Key West, and it's because of him I've had someone to hold my hand through it all.

It was obvious early on that Brian would challenge me because we're so different from one another. What wasn't initially clear was that we'd complement each other because of our similarities. He loves animals...

...and a good drink...

...and beautiful locations to experience together...

...and he is so utterly smitten with our little girl. He has been from the moment she arrived.

What started as a what-the-hell type of date to occupy my mind has become one of the greatest treasures in my life. We've been laughing and fighting and loving from the beginning, and I plan to keep laughing and fighting and loving with Brian, my perfect fit, until the end, too. 

It Just Takes One...

 The power of one is tremendous.

In the midst of a pleasant, much-anticipated Friday, it just takes one phone call to cause panic and fear and the oh-so-torturous walk into the unknown. It just takes one snide comment to make all of your efforts feel pointless. It just takes one moment to change an ordinary day into one that leaves your heart and mind feeling dark. And yet, I have to remind myself:

Because the undeniable truth is that it just takes one kind word to brighten your day. It just takes one good puppy cuddle to remember the simple pleasures in life.

It just takes one beautiful memory to replenish your soul.

And it just takes one moment to stop, breathe, and remember the things that matter most in life. 

Life is hard, and we don't always do our parts to make it easier on others. Do your part: be kind to others and yourself, always. Life is what you make of it, so let's make it better for all of us.