Just a Minute

It was just a minute. Less, really. And everything changed.

I’ve used that phrase a lot and it’s always seemed so inconsequential.

I’ll be there…in just a minute. Hold on…just a minute.

I actually started this blog post a month ago. I was up late (surprise, surprise), mulling over a minute that had resulted in an injury and dreading the next morning. I was just hours away from heading to the hospital for hip surgery.

I hate needles. They terrify me. I knew this surgery would mean a poke or two and was not looking forward to it.

I told myself, it’ll just be a minute. Go to your happy place (a field with puppies, an ice rink or a beach usually) and let the minute pass. I surprised myself by handling the IV really well, patted myself on the back and headed into the O.R. and onto dreamland.

Those first days post-op were really hazy but by the weekend, I’d started feeling this throbbing pain in my calf—despite heavy painkillers. For the next week, I told myself it was probably just from the surgery. The surgeon had even said to expect some ankle pain because of the way my foot was held during the operation. And the physiotherapist didn’t seem worried at all about it, so it must have been nothing.

But I wasn’t sleeping at night because of the pain and then the chest pains and shortness of breath kicked in. Turns out I was sitting on a bit of a ticking time bomb that could make everything change in just a minute. I had won the lottery and developed Deep Vein Thrombosis in my thigh.  A term, quite frankly, I wish I’d never heard.

But those minutes piled up and I realized some very important lessons. Firstly—the human body can put up with a lot. It’s incredible. A masterpiece, thanks to our Creator.

Secondly, we get by with a little help from our friends (and family of course). People gave me a lot of their minutes and I’ll never forget it. Or I’ll try not to at least (I was on some pretty heavy drugs for those first couple of weeks).

That second lesson has taught me to be more careful with those minutes. There were some days and nights I wondered how serious those chest pains were and was there really a chance that my minutes could be up? Surely no. I still had so much to do.

I’m so thankful I still have more minutes. More minutes to catch up with an old friend. More minutes to tell my awesome mom about my day and that I love her.  More minutes to talk about hopes and dreams and plans with my best friend and husband, Sterling. More minutes to see those hopes and dreams become reality.

More minutes to realize the best investment of time isn’t necessarily in doing awesome at your job or watching that blockbuster movie; it’s spending time with the people that mean the most to you.

Not to say doing awesome at your job or catching a movie is a bad way to spend your time. I’ll still try to do both. I’ve just realized I need to be more careful about what I push aside in order to try to do those things.

Too many times I’ve been too busy for this or too lazy for that. Just give me a minute…and I’ll listen to you tell me how your day was. Just wait a minute…and I’ll call you back. Just one more minute…and I’ll be done at the office and meet you for lunch.

But those just a minutes pile up. Then they’re gone. I don’t want to be morbid but this last month has helped me appreciate the value of a minute and I hope the shine doesn’t wear off.

I’m so grateful to have so many awesome people in my life I get to share these precious minutes with. My heart is overflowing with gratitude. And life. And minutes. Lots of them, I hope.

Onward, ever onward

I’ve got a problem. I’ve been seeing the Doctor way too much lately.  Dr. Mario that is. Some grown adults come home from a long day of work and unwind with a nice glass of wine or maybe an hour in front of the boob tube. My decompression comes with a few rounds of Dr. Mario coupled with some good music (okay it’s Taylor Swift or Dixie Chicks…define good).

At almost thirty years of age, it feels absurd to even admit this but I don’t have kids, don’t drink wine and can’t play sports right now. So Dr. Mario it is.

That’s my escape. And I thought it was completely mind-numbing until Friday, as I waited for my husband to get home, the game got me thinking.

Every time I play, I start at the highest level (20) at the highest speed (super fast) and try to get to level 30 without having to restart. That’s my goal. Every time.

It used to be impossible and would suck hours of my life (I know, I need kids) but now I pretty much do it every time then turn the game off and I’m done.

There’s a lot going on in that game. Simplified—you’ve got a lot of coloured pills that need to disappear.

And I think I’ve finally figured it out. There’s a little screen at the top corner that helps out by showing you the next pills that will drop. I look just far enough ahead to start planning where I’ll next lay the little pills.

It can get tricky because when the pills are piled right up to the top of the screen, one wrong move ends your game.

So there I was Friday, cruising away at Level 24 when I got too aggressive on one of my corners. The far right side was stacked right up to the top. And the added challenge is the speed increases as the game goes on. If you don’t get to those pesky top corners in the first few moves, you’re going to have to take the long bottom-up approach later.

I thought three steps ahead. And while I was thinking so far ahead, I screwed up and the game was over.

In real life, I’ve been thinking ahead. Where will I be in five, 10 years? Will we have a house? A kid? Kids?

When I was little (and still now really), I just really, really wanted a glimpse of my future. I wished I could just see a two-second clip of my future life. Would I have a husband and family? Would I live solo with my dogs?

So many burning questions about all these life plans I was just too impatient to wait for answers for. But the wait’s been worth it. So far. No dogs yet but I am thankful every day for the many blessings I have.

Funny thing is, they didn’t come from looking too far ahead. Just far enough ahead. Along the way, I’ve set goals. I’ve met some and watched some fade away. Impatiently I’ve waited for some to be realized and some I’ve agonized over not realizing.

There are great stories of success out there and I bet they have wicked advice but what that simple video game got me thinking about was the importance of taking things one step at a time with just enough foresight to not have to watch it all implode.

Looking big picture is important but if we’re just focusing on the massive spread, we might not see the peaks and valleys between us and that mountaintop we’re striving for.

As 2013 starts to come to a close (I know, it’s only almost October but time flies!), a new set of goals will come out. And I’ll look back at last year’s goals. No, we didn’t win that championship with the Curvies but man did we have a blast trying. And I still haven’t published a song but I did play and write.

Some goals will have to go back on the list for 2014 and some I’ll just have to let go.  There might be some new goals this time around. Rather than dwell on the unfulfilled dreams and expectations, I choose to look forward.

A wise man once said Everest is climbed one step at a time with your eyes ever forward. Okay, I don’t know if a wise man ever said that and if I were climbing that mountain, I’d probably have my head down the entire time out of sheer exhaustion. But the principle’s true: we get to where we’re going by moving forward with our eyes on the prize. It’s the best way I know how at least.

A Time to Heal

I’d been looking ahead to today for a while now. Dreading it almost. Today would have been my nephew Zachary’s 11^th birthday. But Amy and Kirk’s handsome son, Josh and Avalayne’s older brother, Grandma and Grandpa’s little guy…he wasn’t here for it.

Last year, this day hurt. Memories of Zachary stung deep and brought tears I couldn’t fight. It was the first birthday he was in Heaven instead of right here with us. Even though I knew without a doubt he was in a much better place with his Heavenly Father and Savior. That he’d found comfort there that he never tasted here on earth. Selfishly, I missed him too much.

Funny how time works though. This year, the sting’s not as strong. Not because the memories are fading but because they’ve become fonder.

When Zachy was just a little guy, I had the privilege of getting to spend a Fall with him. I hold onto those memories tightly; both for the time I got to spend with him and with my sister’s growing family.

Zach used to just light up when I’d put his dad’s gel in his hair. It was like he knew that meant he was going somewhere. On an adventure of some sort, even if it was just to the grocery store.

When Calgary wasn’t a tundra and there was no ice on the sidewalks, I would strap on my rollerblades and push Zach in his wheelchair to the store. He’d be laughing hysterically the entire way.

Zach couldn't walk but that didn't mean he couldn't dance. When he was small enough, I'd grab him under his armpits, tell him to 'put on his dancing shoes' and DANCE! He'd kick his feet furiously and let out that boisterous belly laugh as he 'danced' across the floor.

I cherished those moments. And do still even more so now. Thankfully, they far outshine the many tough and frustrating days he had in a body that never did him any favours.

Except for that smile. And the twinkle in his eyes.

I miss them. I miss him. But the ache’s fading. I pain less for him and more for his family and loved ones still missing him.

Zachary James Schofield. Today, and every day, I thought of you. A lot. Because I had the chance to know you, to love you and to learn so much from you. And for that, I am so thankful.

Name that Tune

We’re getting a new shower. Thanks to mushrooms and black mold growing in our bathroom…I love basement living. So Al, a very Mario looking plumber, has been working away in the bathroom over the long weekend. Poor Al. That’s no way to spend a long weekend.

To try to jive up the working day and really, drown out the drilling, hammering, etc. I’ve spent my days off playing my entire iTunes playlist.

So many of those songs take me right back to a feeling, or a fleeting moment. Sometimes even not so fleeting moments. I love how music can do that. Catches an instant and holds it for you. The emotions coming right back with each line, each lyric. Like magic.

After the past two days of music-induced memories, I started thinking about the soundtrack of my life. And naturally, decided to write about it. As you know, I tend to be long winded. So rather than make this a novel, I figured I’d break down the significant songs from certain years. Maybe all 28 years? We’ll see where this goes.

1) Gold in them Hills by Ron Sexsmith ft Chris Martin. Best. Song. Ever. I somehow found this song while I was away at university. I really believe this message. The hills can seem tough at times and an impossible climb but there’s gold in ‘em! There’s no telling how the day might end. My life song, for sure.

2) Brazzle Dazzle Day—from Pete’s Dragon. One of my favourite movies as a kid. I think my granddad recorded it off TV, probably the Disney Channel, onto a VHS. I loved the movie and love the message of this song. Live life, loving every minute.

3)  Colors of the Wind. Again, thank you Disney. I was 10 when this movie came out. I remember my mom got the sheet music for this song and would play it on the piano. We’d all gather around and sing. One of my favourite family memories—gathering around the piano. I remember pretending to be Pocahontas as I ran barefoot through the field by our house. And would pretend I was John Smith on the beaches of Parksville on family trips with the Arnotts. Great memories.

4) Wonderwall by Oasis. Me and my best friend Jess Calder used to make our own radio stations. We were awesome, let me tell you. We’d even make our own commercials. I wonder where those tapes ever got to. I remember we’d take her piggy bank for one of the ads. I don’t remember if it was for ICBC (car insurance company) or what but we slammed the piggy bank down during the ad, pretending it was a car wreck. Oasis was one of our favourite bands and takes me right back to all those days and nights we hung out.

5) N’Sync’s I Want you Back and Jann Arden’s Insensitive tie for my middle school days. My neighbor, Will, would come over every day and blare my N’Sync album. I remember waking up to him sneaking into my bedroom one morning just to play it. Then Jann Arden’s Insensitive reminds me of my first love, Jason Boyes. He was my sister’s best friend’s younger brother in Kamloops. Phew, that’s a mouthful. We met, I fell in love, basically the end. My dad also lived in Kamloops so I’d see Jason when I visited him. I remember listening to this song on the radio as we left the city limits of Kamloops. Even though the song’s not exactly romantic, it really reminded me of Jason.

6) Show Me Love by Robyn. Also takes me back to middle school. I forgot about this until just now. My friend Danielle Lachmanec and I used to talk on the phone a lot. I have no idea what we’d talk about but I seem to recall we’d both watch Much Music (while on the phone) and this song was on a lot. I also remember Danielle made these awesome double baked potatoes that had all sorts of goodness in them. Good times.

7) Anything by the Dixie Chicks or Eminem will take me back to high school. Especially Cowboy Take me Away and I’m Back. I’ll let you guess who’s responsible for which song. I remember my first Dixie Chicks concert. I wasn’t super close with the “Prevost Girls” yet but we had a great time and still have a blast together over a decade later. Love the Chicks and love the girls I went to my first Dixie Chicks concert with.

8) Heart of Glass by Blondie reminds me of my Grade 12 year. Laura Brandon introduced me to Blondie, and makeup, and growing up. We used to blare this song from her mom’s car. I don’t know if we were listening to Blondie but I do remember this one time we thought it would be a good idea to cruise out the sunroof in Laura’s car. All fun and games until we got pulled over for not wearing seatbelts. Oops.

9) Outkast’s Hey Ya. First year of university at Mount Royal in Calgary. Me, Kristy, Lisa and Mieke had some great times. Most of them revolved around dancing. They even came to a church dance with me once and helped me meet my first boyfriend, Ramsey Jones. I thought he was so cute and couldn’t believe he would be interested in me. Oh Ramsey. We had fun..on the couch..the girls loved it.

10) When Will I be Loved from the soundtrack of 8 Seconds. I remember picking up this movie at the nearest corner store. That song. That movie. Takes me right back to that year in Calgary. Vicariously living through the girls’ adventures at Ranchman's.

11) Beautiful Mess by Diamond Rio. It reminds me of the second guy I ever dated. I never quite felt like myself with him but loved the whirlwind while I was in it.

12) Daniel Powter’s Bad Day. I’ve been so, so lucky to have some amazing friends and people in my life. Seriously. Nathaniel Watters, Meg Thebo and Sarah Asmundson included. We had some great road trips down to General Conference and Nathaniel had Daniel Powter’s CD on one of them The whole CD takes me back but that song in particular. Even though there weren’t many bad days with Than and the crew around.

13) Spice Girls’ Wannabe. My first year at BYU-I was all I hoped for and more. Early on, Jazz, Amber and I hit it off. So lucky to have such great roommates. Our momma bears Daphne, Camilla and Duka too. I think it must have been Jasmine’s birthday which means we would have known each other for all of two weeks. I decided to serenade her with an acoustic version of Wannabe. It was awful. But awesome. All in one.

14) Voice inside my head by the Dixie Chicks. I hated that guys could get in my head but they could and they did. I don’t like to live with ‘what could have beens’ but that summer I did. Couldn’t help but wonder if I’d let a good guy go. Hindsight’s 20/20 but at that time it was a little blurry.

15) Consider the Lilies by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. Love, love, love this song. Love its message. I tend to worry. Just ask Sterling. I’m constantly planning, budgeting, goal-setting. I just want to make sure my ducks are in a row and I’m safe for a rainy day. This song brings me back to reality and reminds me to trust Him. I had the honour of singing it in Sacrament meeting with my friend Matt Stowers my first year at BYU-I.

16) Infidelity by Regina Spektor. I loved it.  Not infidelity itself but the song. I actually didn’t know that’s what it was called until just now. I just loved the whole ‘ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-heart’ part. My poor roommates, as I recall, not so much. Living with Christina, Angie, Tessa and Amber was awesome. Cool, cool people. I have a pretty awesome roommate now but have been lucky over the years.

17) Apple Bottom Jeans by T-Pain will always remind me of BYU-I basketball and my life partner Wendizzle. Unfortunately, Sterling and Brad have gotten in the way of our life pact to live in Hawaii together and surf every day. Alas, we’ll always have Rexburg. The complete opposite of Hawaii.

18) Cupid’s Chokehold by Gym Class Heroes. Playing this with Jacob and Shane at Guitars Unplugged was probably one of my favourite memories from BYU-I (other than the whole meeting my husband part…). I remember the first time I sat by Jacob in the Scroll (newspaper) office I thought he was a total rebel. I was judgmental and thought ‘no chance I become friends with this guy’. Little did I know, he was a super cool guy and would become one of my favourite people I had the pleasure of meeting at BYU-I.

19) Clocks by Coldplay. Another shout out to the Scroll. Thank you Scroll iTunes for introducing me to Clocks. And the soundtrack to Wicked. To this day, Clocks takes me right back to late nights and early mornings in the Scroll office.

20) California by Metrostation. Really any song from that album reminds me of summer with Freeze, Kimbo and Sammi and brings a smile to my face. Probably the most carefree, fun summer I’ve ever had. We consumed a lot of bottled soda and acted like hooligans. Sorry Coach Kyle if you’re reading this. That was us that trashed your car. But I’m pretty sure we filled it with Snickers bars too so that made up for it, right?

21) Use Somebody by Kings of Leon takes me right back to a winter day in Seattle.  I did a lot of driving that fall and winter and I’m pretty sure it was on every other song on the radio at that time. It reminds me of someone I cared a lot about. He was exactly what I needed and hopefully for a bit, I was what he needed too.

22) Coming to Terms by Carolina Liar. Very cool, underrated band. I ran a lot to this song and this album. Good rhythm and great lyrics. Better breakup song.

23) Halo by Beyonce. I thought I’d closed my heart pretty good when I went back to Rexburg for my final semester. Then I met this Sterling guy. So much for that…

24) Only you can love me this way by Keith Urban. It ended up being our wedding song and says it all. Like I said, I’m a planner but I didn’t plan for Sterling. He came when I least expected him. After years of wishing and hoping for the perfect guy, right when I’d resolved to be a career driven woman, he came along. And I’m so glad. He is so, so good to me. Too good sometimes. I got so lucky. Blessed, really.

Bonus Tracks:

Elvis' Teddy Bear. Perhaps I spoke out of turn saying Jason was my first love. I was obsessed with Elvis as a kid. I would strum a tennis racket and play Teddy Bear or Don't be Cruel or any one of his many hits. Classic.

Green Day’s  Basket Case. I have it in my head more than any other song and have no idea why. I do often tell kids ‘no one likes a whiner’.

Hanson’s Save Me. It’s Hanson. Need I say more?

Peaches by the Presidents. Love peaches. Whether they come from a can and were put there by a man or not. Another throwback to Jess and our DJing days.

Bryan Adams’ Summer of ’69. I have so many great memories attached to this song and they all revolve around the D-Town Girls. Another song that brings a smile to my face.

No Fear

When I was a kid, late at night I was sure either E.T. or the Bogey Man were coming to get me. Not every night but enough restless nights for me to remember.

Sometimes I would even sleep upside down to try to trick them into thinking my head was where my feet were and vice versa. My trickery sure paid off because neither of them ever got me.

In reality, I was safe in my home yet I had this very real fear that the shadow in the corner of my room was waiting for me to make a wrong move so they could get me.

A lot’s changed since then. The shadows in my room are easily identified as my running shoes, purse, or Sterling’s books.  But those very real fears are still there. Just about different things now.

This past week led to a number of these fears resurfacing. I started wondering how safe my safe city really was. Ah the trappings of terror. Earthquakes, hateful acts, fire and brimstone. Make you wonder if everything’s going to be alright in paradise.

If only we could live in the cloudy Kingdom of Caring with Brave Heart Lion and my other favourite Care Bears. Things would be simpler there.  Until No Heart made an appearance. That No Heart was never up to any good.

But True Heart and Cheer Heart and Love-a-Lot Bear—they were there to thwart the evil efforts of No Heart and Beastly.  They were there to right the wrongs.

Thankfully, I learned that lesson early on. As long as there’s good in the world—whether it’s the United Kingdom or the Kingdom of Caring—the bad can’t prevail. It won’t prevail.

I don’t know if there’s more bad today than there was in my five-year-old self’s world. Social media and the internet certainly make it seem like it. But they also shed light on some incredible acts of humanity in the face of heinous events.

Those acts of kindness and humanity help alleviate those fears. The outpouring of love, charity, community and kindness…the way people come together. Images like that make the Bogey Man disappear.

He might be ready to stop us in our tracks but we won't let him. Not this time. 

Easy Does It

The other day I got the worst paper cut I’ve had. Ever. It was completely my fault. I was careless in the hazardous task of photocopying. There it was, a large stack of statistics (sorry my tree-loving friends). I just needed to take it from point A: the photocopier, to point B: the box to carry the finished product up to the press box.

I bit off more than I could chew. Underestimated the power of a stack of paper. I grabbed them; they slipped. That terrible feeling of flesh separating itself. I bled. Right down the tip of my middle finger so even now, as I type, I’m reminded by the sting.

I should have just taken a manageable stack. A few manageable stacks and the job would have been done, paper cut-free. Sometimes ambition can be our greatest friend and sometimes, our sorest enemy. Everything in moderation, right? I had too much.

I was reminded of this today as I spoke with my friend at work. She cited a phrase that more of us would do well to adhere to: done is better than perfect. I believe this was coined or certainly used by Facebook. I don’t know but I’d say their business model has turned out pretty well.

But perfect is that ever elusive place we pine for, don’t we? It’s why dieting, exercising, yogaing, makeuping and plastic surgerying are so popular these days. The definition of perfection may change from generation to generation but the pursuit of it does not. 

The pursuit continues because reaching it just can’t happen. Not here. Not now. We can mirror perfection, get close—so close we can taste it but there’s always something more, better, different…

So we adjust our standards. I’m not saying we give up, give in and stop giving a darn. Just realize the picket fence that never peels, the waistline that always appeals and the perfect spouse who’s even keel—those things don’t exist every day. Enjoy the moments they do. Don’t fret the moments they don’t. And just do your best. Done, after all, is better than perfect.

A Whale of a Tale?

I don’t know if you know this but I’m a self proclaimed Hanson lover. If there is such a thing. I don’t listen to them very much anymore but do make sure to attend any concert they put on in a city near me.

Legit Hanson fans will recall a very early album, Three Car Garage. On that album, there’s a song called Stories. It repeats a line over and over…and over (remember Mmmbop?):

Stories will be told

From when our children are young

Until they’re old

Lyrical geniuses those Hanson brothers were!

I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. Not that the Hanson brothers are awesome (although they are) but about my story. What’s going to be told?

Just this afternoon I saw a post about an amazing woman with an incredible story. At least the parts that have been told. Irena Sendler. She has an awesomely heroic yet tragic and inspiring story. Check it out if you can.

I wonder if she knew she was as awesome as she was. I think we all probably go through phases where we’re feeling pretty boss. Things are clicking in all the right areas, we’re utilizing our talents and time well—we’re getting stuff done, taking names and leaving a blazing trail in our wake.  Love to hear these stories and have these stories of awesomeness told.

Then there are those times when we’re barely getting by. Relationships are suffering, neglected and showing cracks at the seams. Work, money, play—all leave much to be desired. We can’t seem to do anything right and just don’t feel like there’s any way to rise above whatever’s crushing us any given day. Put the pen away for these stories. Feels like there's nothing to see, nothing to say here, folks.

Then there’s 'La-dee-da Land'. Or Goldilocks land maybe? Not too hot, not too cold, just right. Just a little complacent though. We’re not doing anything exceptional, good or bad. There’s not much to think about, stress about or do period because, well, we’re comfortable just getting by. Not much to write about here either.

Although boring, this is a great place to be—for a while at least. It’s got an expiry date though. Or at least it should. After the first month, you start to wonder what that steaming hot bowl of porridge would be like.  Worse, you start to expect it. Every morning you wonder if this, this will be the day you burn your tongue.

The beauty is, it’s in those uncomfortable experiences that stories are written. There is something to see and something to say.

Your tongue aches but you’ve got a tale to tell. And inevitably, a tougher tongue.

And better yet, you’re not the only one walking around with a burned tongue. That’s where relationships are really forged.  Some people in our story might even offer some soothing ointment to take out the sting. Some might toss some Tabasco sauce in our next bowl just to add insult to injury. We can’t always tell who’s who in our story or where our story’s going but we can tell who we are. How we act and react.

Stories will be told

From when our children are young

Until they’re old

I’m not sure what mine’s going to say but I hope at least it’s said. What’s your story? Is it all Nancy Drew or Sherlock Holmes like? Maybe a little Scarlet Letter or Les Miserables? That'd be epic if it was Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings-esque. Whatever it is, I hope you own it. It's the least we can do.

Nostalgia-osis

Yesterday Sterling gave me the gift of time travel. Not the Marty McFly type (still waiting!) but more like a trip down memory lane. While we were putting off washing our car without a hose (longish story), he started playing some throwback jams. I’m talking Bone Thugs N’ Harmony, Coolio, Puff Daddy (before his umpteenth name change and JLo), Warren G, 2Pac and Hanson. I know, we’re super gangster. Especially with that last one.

So naturally the throwback jams led me to a favourite pastime, playing Nintendo. And that led to reminiscing.

I will never forget a sleepover at my friend Amanda Whiting’s. We were always good for shenanigans at those sleepovers. She had this pool table and a music player in the basement. Perfect ingredients for good times to be had.

So it must have been Grade 5 or 6 (fifth or sixth grade for my American comrades) when we busted out Coolio’s Gangsta’s Paradise at Amanda’s birthday party. Being the cool kids we were, we made up a dance and rapped along “minute after minute, hour after hour”. Or at least for the length of the party.

What transpired yesterday led to some awkwardness…and a letdown…and a subsequent therapeutic car washing.

I went to go send Amanda, and a couple of friends from that party, the link to Gangsta’s Paradise with the plan to instigate what would hopefully be a fond remembrance of good times.  To my dismay, I found I’m no longer Facebook friends with two of the girls. Ouch. Thank you Amanda for hanging in there. I’m happy to read updates about your moves and schooling and marital bliss, even though I never tell you as such. My apologies.

So if you’re reading this and are considering ending our virtual friendship, please don’t click the dreaded ‘unfriend’ button. Just don’t.

I’m awful at keeping in touch but I do creep on your walls when you least expect it (sounds even creepier in print) and I do sporadically...like once a decade…give in to the urge to take friends down memory lane with a song or quick recap of an epic time. I read your blogs. I laugh at your outtakes. My heart hurts at your sorrows.

I’m trying to do better. Actually, this January 1st I made a dreaded resolution that I’m slightly sucking at. I resolved to write a snail mail letter each week. I’ve written a handful now but am slacking at tracking down addresses to send them to. So, if you’re reading this and would like to help me finish this 52-letter resolution, fire me a private message with your address. I’ll try not to disappoint.

Cheers to staying in touch and keepin’ it real.