Screw Cancer. It’s like a burglar that comes at midnight. It comes in the middle of an unsuspecting night, while you lay fast asleep cozy in bed next to a loved one, or your favorite stuffed animal. Whether it tricks the lock or scales the windows and doors it somehow manages to slip through the smallest unexamined crack, and finds a way in to the place you always assumed would be safe. It defiles your home and leaves you feeling vulnerable and confused. It comes swift and bold and strong. It moves silently, slipping into every room without you having a chance. It ransacks your life, it goes through your belongings and it makes sure you don’t hear a damn thing while it carries out its selfish intentions. It works tirelessly, to gather all the things you hold dear so it can take it for itself. And, by the time you wake up and roll out of the warm comfort of your bed, by the time you walk down the stairs, by the time you catch it, it has removed everything that holds any real value and leaves not a trace of evidence behind to have a culprit to blame. Screw Cancer. It takes your TV and your curtains and all the money you have ever saved. It takes your peace of mind and any idea of security you have ever had. It takes your favorite necklace and your favorite shoes and any favorite you have ever had. Just like the midnight burglar it is needy and silent and fast. It’s only motivation is to take all the things you love and leave you feeling helpless. It has no remorse and no conscience. It is quiet and cunning and destructive. Screw Cancer. If only we had a vague sketch artist drawing of you that we could pin down Criminal Minds style and lock you away for life. If only we had a leading witness to testify against you in trial. If only we had a face to blame. If only we had a way to get all the things back you stole. If only you weren’t the best thief there ever was.
“Lost love is still love. It takes a different form, that’s all. You can’t see their smile or bring them food or tousle their hair or move them around a dance floor. But when those sense weaken, another heightens. Memory. Memory becomes your partner. You nurture it. You hold it. You dance with it.
Life has to end. “Love doesn’t.”
― Mitch Albom,
If you made it through the title (a little lengthy l I know) then you will know what your lovely little eyes are about to read. I decided not to go with a moody, could be something but not sure title and stick right with the point. Trust me I took AP English in high school, I know what its like to spend hours having to decipher what the author possibly, probably meant by using that one word melodramatic title line. But, back to the point. This was one hell of a week may I add. Most people would simply blow through this title and mumble quietly to themselves “get some real problems lady”, but you didn’t, go you. While this problem may seem like something small in a world filled with violence and mass corruption lets remember, I am a Type A perfectionist and if you are unfortunately there with me then you get the heaviness of this problem. This problem also taught me an important lesson, funny how the world does that to you isn’t it? Lets start at the beginning shall we?
Well lets begin with the ‘forgetting to wear makeup’ thing. As a young women, who goes to school and holds down a job one would expect that you wear makeup on a regular basis as to not look ‘tired’ or I don’t know, like a 15 year old maybe. Forgetting to come into work wearing makeup is a mountain I had yet to climb, until last week that is. I came in to open work at 8 am and upon stepping across a mirror, realized that I had failed upon leaving the house to apply even a drop of makeup. Yep you heard me right, early morning on the job, sans makeup. Quite a scene that sets. I instantly went into a deep panic and when I say panic I mean I freaked out. I didn’t bring anything with me except lipstick and that wouldn’t help a sister at the moment. I immediately messaged by fiance and asked how on this precious earth had he forgotten to remind me that ‘hey you are leaving the house looking all sorts of crazy’? To which he simply replied that it wasn’t a big deal, that I was pretty and he hadn’t noticed. Which sounded like a lot of blah blah blah to a women who had just walked into her place of employment looking like a bag lady. Until I could run out and grab some drugstore eyeliner I knew I would be fresh faced and hiding my face. About a steady hour into hiding my unmascaraed face with my hair and computer, I started thinking. And, this is where the life lesson comes in. Why in the literal world was I so scared of not wearing makeup when this is how I look. And, no amount of makeup would ever change how I look when I take it off and lay my head down to sleep each night (quick side note to all my ladies, make sure you take that makeup off at night unless you want to wake up with those dreaded raccoon eyes or even worse…..a pimple).These beady blue/green eyes, transparent eyelids and naturally rosy cheeks belonged to me. I sound like a real knockout don’t I? But, this was the way I was made, this is the face I have been given and we must live in a pretty messed up society if I felt ashamed of it. If I literally spiraled into a mid morning panic thinking that GASP, someone would see my real face. That begs the question of what the heck is wrong with the world? Well there is too many things to really put down here in words but something that we can start to do is stop loosing our minds about looking done up and perfect. Because frankly we aren’t. We have pimples and bags under our eyes and scars with long stories. We have too curly hair, too straight hair, too wavy hair. But hey, that is what makes us ourselves, our unique uneven skin toned selves.Think about it, can you to leave the house without makeup and still think, I may not look like Americas next top model, but I am myself and that is a great thing to be? If you are a mother then don’t let makeup rule your idea of beauty, children will latch onto that. A day never really went by when I didn’t see my mother putting on at least eyeliner before we went anywhere and upon forgetting hear the ‘OMG I AM NOT WEARING ANY MAKEUP’ panic we all know and love. Unfortunately the society we live in pressures women of all ages to a obtain an unrealistic expectation of beauty. From young teens to women in their sixty’s, there is some sort of pressure. We all think to ourselves, well hey those celebrities are 14 but look 20. Or, those sixty year olds look 40.Which is not realistic. Those celebrities don’t even look like those celebrities. By the time makeup artists, Photoshop, fans and airbrushing gets done with them they become the poster child of an unrealistic and way out of control beauty system.Embrace that no matter how many times you try your eyelashes will never curl properly and, no matter how much contouring you do, you in fact still have a round face. Embrace that you have freckles (if any of you want some, I have plenty to go around) and embrace the fact that you will never be able to tan. Embrace your big nose or your small nose or your long nose. Embrace the color of your eyes and the way that your skin is never perfect. I challenge everyone to take a step outside their comfort zone regarding appreciating your natural beauty. Whether that be not putting on makeup to go to the gym or taking a #nofilter, no makeup selfie, do something. You are beautiful and stunning and all the other adjectives your little heart can think of. Be proud of who you are, rosy cheeks and all.
This week’s mantra: Be here now. Trying to focus on the here and now and not get too caught up in the tangling possibilities of the future.
If walking through a store or possibly a home and spelling that perfume, I will instantly and forever think of you. Happy by Clinique. Something that doesn’t fit neatly into one category, much like you. Something that constantly revolves around musk or floral or orange, not easy to describe in any sense, much like you. But without a doubt it is a scent that is so delicate and happy, much like you or much like you strive to be. Perhaps you wear a perfume that smells like happy with some desire that this word will somehow sink through into your veins, sliding gracefully into your heart cavity and permanently reside there. That the happy you wear wont have to come from a perfume bottle anymore. You, someone who had a life that was not filled with too many bottles of happiness perfume. The loss you suffered, the decisions you were forced to make, the strength that almost seemed mandatory. The moves, the disease, the breakups, the harshness of the world in general. Maybe, just maybe that’s why you drench your clothing and the nape of your neck in something that promises the smell of happiness. If only you are able to inhale what happiness is supposed to smell like, then maybe, just maybe you could taste happiness, live happiness, feel happiness. Long ago this perfume seemed to be a mask. One that was obvious, one that you believed had people fooled. That if people smelled happiness on your freckled skin, then you believed that they would believe that you were in fact happy. But, lately the happiness of your perfume seem to express your inner thoughts and happiness rather than mask them. It seems to be an extension of the deepest part of your soul and, nothing makes me happier than knowing that now not only do you smell like happiness but you feel like happiness. Happiness for you doesn’t come out of a perfume bottle anymore, it comes out of your soul and that perfect smile of yours.
Well, its official- we live together. Technically we have lived together for about two months now but not until this morning did it become official. Want to know how I know? We are mid shampoo fight. Fight meaning rather that be apologized and I’m ignoring him. Yep the age old fight over household objects. When your fights switch from being about his questioning antics and curious past to not remembering to tell me we were out of shampoo mid shower. The classic shift most couples unknowingly slide through like a quiet avalanche when they venture to that “move in” phase. Where you don’t so much fight about what he did last Friday night (on account that you now know) but fall much closer to “why didn’t you tell me we were out of shampoo?” Don’t get me wrong living together has its perks. I have my partner in crime and best friend there to catch me when I fall both physically and metaphorically speaking and someone there to spend Sunday mornings in bed with and someone to help me carry my groceries. But today there was a change, a shift, a cross over into the next step in our relationship. And, to be quite honest I’m partially scared shitless and partially excited. We made it this far. Over three years together and a couple months of living together is much longer than most people get. Who knows what happens from here all I know is I’m ready to find out. Hopefully its still filled with love letters and flowers with the occasional ‘now tell me you didn’t forget the paper towels again did you?’
Its amazing what you can miss when you sleep in on a rainy Saturday. Apparently, from what I saw last weekend, there is an abundance of life and thriving activity in the community well before noon on this sleepy day. See, I myself and my fiance are college students so, as soon as we get the chance we sleep in well past breakfast. But, with a mix between interest in checking out the farmers market nearby, and the need to breath in outside air after this horrid and bone chilling winter, I set my alarm for 10 am. Of course when my phone began loudly chiming with an electronic sound that sliced through my sleepy dreams, I walked through the deep haze of Saturday mornings toward the loud, buzzing annoyance. Though the rain tapping on the window created a perfect drumbeat almost chanting for me to get back into the comfort of my bed, I was determined. I slipped on my favorite sweater dress, wrapped my hair up in a head scarf and headed for the strange, outside world known as Saturday mornings. With the soft showers and the calmness of a gray sky I was not expecting to see much activity when I was driving toward the market. But, to my amazement there were people, and they were everywhere. I saw people outside gardening, people landscaping churches and community gardens. I saw a group of men in dark trench coats and hats painting over the artwork left on the side of a robin red building. I saw kids and adults and seniors buying fresh produce and supporting local business. Though the rain fell, I saw hundreds of people bettering my community. I saw people shopping at local markets and raising money for charity. I saw old couples holding hands and people selling homemade honey soap and police officers directing traffic. I saw people walking with destinations and kids asking their parents why its important to buy organic. All on a rainy Saturday morning. I suppose why this was so fascinating and mind blowing was because, as most people do time to time I thought the world revolved around me. If I took part in the late afternoon sleeping on Saturdays, then the rest of the world must as well. If I fell victim to the hypnotic chanting of rain on my window, then everyone else must have too, right? It is amazing what you miss when you sleep in on a rainy Saturday. You see people bettering the community, supporting local businesses, and children learning how to lead a healthy lifestyle. I suggest that, you venture out one Saturday morning and see what your city has in store. The atmosphere just very well may inspire you like it did me. Because, its amazing what you miss when you sleep in on a rainy Saturday.