Dear 2012,
A great year was had.
In truth, I wouldn't change anything I've done. No regrets. I feel really happy about that.
I feel like, in my life, if I were to sum up this part I'm living right now; I'd be in the middle of the "build up" chapters where the reader gets a ton of information and back story and plot points, but knows that bigger and better are coming soon.
I can't wait for bigger and better! I know they will be here VERY soon. The first "better" being in January, when I officially take on the lease in my apartment and clean house, paint, and set up the place for new tenants. Sweet. I'll have my own room again! I won't be sharing with my sister! AHHH!
Peru and Bolivia are in my sights this spring.
I'm gonna start coaching and performing Improv consistently this next year.
I'll meet more Kismet's, Cutie's, and Serendipity's. Uh Huh. Oh 'effin yeah.
Oh, and the 5 pounds I've lost? I'm gonna make that 10 pounds, then, I'll score another feature film, which I'll be perfect for.
I'm gonna live the hell out of this next year: 25 never looked so damn good.
'k thanx, byeeee.
-Natalie
Showing posts with label Holidays. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Holidays. Show all posts
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Tuesday, December 25, 2012
Christmas Day 2012
Christmas can change based on: religious affiliations, childhood memories and traditions; financial status, and family relationships. I know people who get very depressed around the holidays, and then people who feel the best they've felt all year. Regardless of happy or sad: I think the meaning of this holiday is one for reflecting on how important it is to be a sloth, practice gluttony, feel pride, and covet thy neighbors gifts; all in the company of your family and loved ones. And, since everyone's doing it: why feel guilty? Allow the sin to wash away the guilt and bathe in the decadence of Christmas Present. But, for me: christmas is all these things and more because of the thoughtfulness of friends.
Christmas this year was full of lots and lots of text messages.
I love how everyone sends a text to all their friends wishing them a Happy Holiday. As much as I tell myself that we live in a world where physical communication is limited and we are all too removed from each other, I am reminded that, indeed, we can still reach out an touch each other with a thought: and that can go a long way.
I got a whole bunch of "Merry Christmas, Nat" and a few "We need to hang out soon!" and "I hope you and your family are well." And every time I picked up my phone to see another message like that I smiled. I got texts from friends I haven't heard from in a while, from friends I saw a few days ago, and even a couple of exes wishing me well. It's almost as if we all took off our labels and decided to reach out through the non-threatening and immediate medium of texting to remind ourselves that, no matter how long we've gone between communicating, on this day: I am letting you know I was thinking of you and wishing you well.
I'm so grateful for all of the texts this year.
Cheers to all! Happy Holidays!
Christmas this year was full of lots and lots of text messages.
I love how everyone sends a text to all their friends wishing them a Happy Holiday. As much as I tell myself that we live in a world where physical communication is limited and we are all too removed from each other, I am reminded that, indeed, we can still reach out an touch each other with a thought: and that can go a long way.
I got a whole bunch of "Merry Christmas, Nat" and a few "We need to hang out soon!" and "I hope you and your family are well." And every time I picked up my phone to see another message like that I smiled. I got texts from friends I haven't heard from in a while, from friends I saw a few days ago, and even a couple of exes wishing me well. It's almost as if we all took off our labels and decided to reach out through the non-threatening and immediate medium of texting to remind ourselves that, no matter how long we've gone between communicating, on this day: I am letting you know I was thinking of you and wishing you well.
I'm so grateful for all of the texts this year.
Cheers to all! Happy Holidays!
Friday, November 23, 2012
Choking
KEEP CALM I MUST KEEP CALM!!!!
I stood up from the breakfast table and walked into the kitchen. My sister was in the middle of sticking her head in the fridge and my step-brother was cutting a piece of pie from last night's desert. My brother looked up first. "Uh. Caitie!? Nat needs... help."
I imagined myself looking like I was in urgent need of assistance with well groomed hair, a calm attitude and a quiet but stern look of need, oh and maybe a nice new pair of well cut jeans on... what I probably looked like was a red-faced, wide eyed, hair flying, bushy-tailed animal-about-to-get-run-over-by-a-car with flapping arms and crazy gesticulations to my throat.
My sister looked up. I tried to breathe in, making a rattling noise. I was choking on a waffle.
Caitie's eyes widened. She bolted from the fridge as the training she had learned when she was a Residence Assistant while in college began to guide her movements. In three quick heaves the food cleared my throat and I began to cough violently. *cough* "Thanks." *cough*
I sat down trying to act totally calm and collected. "You okay?" My brother asked. "Yeah." I said. Caitie went back to the fridge and my brother continued to cut his pie. I stared at the day old waffle I was eating and felt no appetite for food. My throat felt raw and I felt particularly stupid. Really? I choked on a day old gluten free waffle and not a bit on all the turkey I ate last night?
I felt like I had just lived through one of those moments where, in Hollywood, the victim of choking (who is generally a fat, slovenly guy packing away a 20oz. steak) just brushes themselves off and in a voice clear as day says "Gee, thanks" and then gets kissed by the concerned and useless wife, and in the real world: A coughing fit ensues to clear any excess food and then the victim feels like a totally jackass of a human being because all she was eating was a stupid stale waffle.
I stood up, threw out the rest of the waffle and cut into a piece of pumpkin pie. I'd have to try pretty hard to choke on that custard, I reasoned.
That was the first time I'd ever really choked on any food before. And let me tell you: no one looks particularly graceful when they're getting a fist shoved into their diaphragm as they get bounced up and down from the sheer force of the heaves of the life-saver. Womp Womp. Choking sucks, I don't recommend it.
Be safe out there folks! Day old breakfast can be a danger!
I stood up from the breakfast table and walked into the kitchen. My sister was in the middle of sticking her head in the fridge and my step-brother was cutting a piece of pie from last night's desert. My brother looked up first. "Uh. Caitie!? Nat needs... help."
I imagined myself looking like I was in urgent need of assistance with well groomed hair, a calm attitude and a quiet but stern look of need, oh and maybe a nice new pair of well cut jeans on... what I probably looked like was a red-faced, wide eyed, hair flying, bushy-tailed animal-about-to-get-run-over-by-a-car with flapping arms and crazy gesticulations to my throat.
My sister looked up. I tried to breathe in, making a rattling noise. I was choking on a waffle.
Caitie's eyes widened. She bolted from the fridge as the training she had learned when she was a Residence Assistant while in college began to guide her movements. In three quick heaves the food cleared my throat and I began to cough violently. *cough* "Thanks." *cough*
I sat down trying to act totally calm and collected. "You okay?" My brother asked. "Yeah." I said. Caitie went back to the fridge and my brother continued to cut his pie. I stared at the day old waffle I was eating and felt no appetite for food. My throat felt raw and I felt particularly stupid. Really? I choked on a day old gluten free waffle and not a bit on all the turkey I ate last night?
I felt like I had just lived through one of those moments where, in Hollywood, the victim of choking (who is generally a fat, slovenly guy packing away a 20oz. steak) just brushes themselves off and in a voice clear as day says "Gee, thanks" and then gets kissed by the concerned and useless wife, and in the real world: A coughing fit ensues to clear any excess food and then the victim feels like a totally jackass of a human being because all she was eating was a stupid stale waffle.
I stood up, threw out the rest of the waffle and cut into a piece of pumpkin pie. I'd have to try pretty hard to choke on that custard, I reasoned.
That was the first time I'd ever really choked on any food before. And let me tell you: no one looks particularly graceful when they're getting a fist shoved into their diaphragm as they get bounced up and down from the sheer force of the heaves of the life-saver. Womp Womp. Choking sucks, I don't recommend it.
Be safe out there folks! Day old breakfast can be a danger!
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
The Life of Riley
The heat from a renovated, painstakingly cleaned fireplace filled with logs hand cut by my father.
The smell of hand chopped onion, roasted beets from the garden, and sizzling bacon.
The sound of the banjo music streaming from the iPod.
My Dad tapping his feet as he relaxes from the day while watching the flames.
The knock on the door as a 20-something Clean Air and Water Act representative walks in and tries to get the family to sign a petition to get the government to give more support to the environment. My Dad obliges, putting on his reading glasses and asking a couple questions regarding the 60 bucks he's about to cough up.
The gust of evening air as the brown sweatshirt clad guy leaves the house looking grateful for the warmth and kind regards.
"What was that about?" ringing out from the kitchen as Mom #2 continues with her prep for tomorrow's feast.
My toes wiggling to the beat of the bluegrass music in anticipation of the juicy bird and creamy mashed potatoes I know I will eat too much of tomorrow.
The red wine on the table that keeps winking at me, even though I've already had two glasses.
The text from my sister regarding her evening plans.
I sink back into my chair and type this all out, because, good lord, this is a day in the "Life of Riley."
The smell of hand chopped onion, roasted beets from the garden, and sizzling bacon.
The sound of the banjo music streaming from the iPod.
My Dad tapping his feet as he relaxes from the day while watching the flames.
The knock on the door as a 20-something Clean Air and Water Act representative walks in and tries to get the family to sign a petition to get the government to give more support to the environment. My Dad obliges, putting on his reading glasses and asking a couple questions regarding the 60 bucks he's about to cough up.
The gust of evening air as the brown sweatshirt clad guy leaves the house looking grateful for the warmth and kind regards.
"What was that about?" ringing out from the kitchen as Mom #2 continues with her prep for tomorrow's feast.
My toes wiggling to the beat of the bluegrass music in anticipation of the juicy bird and creamy mashed potatoes I know I will eat too much of tomorrow.
The red wine on the table that keeps winking at me, even though I've already had two glasses.
The text from my sister regarding her evening plans.
I sink back into my chair and type this all out, because, good lord, this is a day in the "Life of Riley."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)