A Check Off the List

At the end of last summer, I completed a personal milestone (and no, it wasn’t turning 25…yuck).

I finished my term of AmeriCorps!

Let’s take a peek at the numbers, shall we?

6000. Approximate amount of scholarship.

1700. Hours of community service completed.

42. Number of kids served.

6. Number of families I feel I impacted.

9. Lasting friendships made with other AmeriCorps.

4. People I can count on for a great recommendation.

12. Months of service.

1. Child I continue to mentor.

2. Bitter relationships left over.

1,560. Approximate number of life lessons learned.

Everything else can’t be broken down into numbers. I learned a lot last year–about myself, and about others. Were these the lessons I thought I would learn? Not even close.

At the beginning of the year, we wrote ourselves a letter detailing what we expected from the next twelve months.

It was a depressing letter because everything I wrote about had in fact, not happened. I wasn’t staying another year in AmeriCorps as I had assumed, the Boyfriend and I were not ready to be engaged (and still aren’t) and I’m still uncertain how much of an impact I had on the kids.

However, I did learn how to be professional, even if I’m brawling or bawling inside.

I did learn bucket loads about the systems here in the United States: the immigration system, the health care system, the education system.

I learned how to get over my fear of public speaking.

I learned how to network.

I learned how to quiet down a class of middle-schoolers and gain their (temporary) respect.

I learned how to make my hair look semi-professional on a regular basis.

I learned how to go to a 9-6 job every day, and make it there (mostly) on time.

I learned how to live with a boy.

I learned how to survive a commute and drive in the big city.

Most of all, I learned that life rarely follows a plan, and that it’s really hard to let go of the plan you wanted to have.

Although it’s cliche, John Lennon said it best: “life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans.”

The Quarter-Century Arrives

Today, is the day.

The day I usher in my 25th year and say sayonara to the first quarter (ideally) of my life.

I don’t know if you can tell, but I find this a wee bit depressing.

Which is simply not acceptable since it’s my birthday, and it comes with everything that entails, like an ice cream cake, presents, a birthday dress and many other happy things.

Since it’s not okay to be sad when I’m still a “youngster” (as my younger sister put it…she’s always been an old soul) I started off my birthday by compiling a list of the all the great things about life in general.

And since that was so broad I started to stress myself out, I decided to find 25 simple things that prove the cliche “it’s the little things.”

1. Crossing things off my life to-do list. (If I start counting how much I still need to do I cry. So I re-cross off a lot). To broaden it, crossing anything off any  list makes me quite content.

2. Pets. All of them I’ve ever had have brought some smiles to my life. Even the frog my sister killed. Even my brother’s snake. (I suppose I can’t really remember when the snake itself made me smile. It’s a snake. But it was named Fluffy so that brings a smile).

3. The Office.

4. Love.

talk about love. these two (my crazy grandparents) just had their 60TH anniversary!

5. Baby things. Baby animals, mostly.

6. Trees.

7. Coffee.

8.  A birthday dress.

9. Fall fashion.

LIKE THESE BOOTS.

10. A new planner.

FOR MY NEEEEEW SCHOOL!

11. Instagrammin.’

12. Helping my best friend with her wedding. Even though I might go insane, it’s really fun. And watching another of my best friends getting happily married, too… 🙂

happy happy bride!

13. BIRTHDAY CARDS!

LOOK AT THIS CARD MY FRIEND MADE ME. AH-MAZING.

14. My dog that wags her tail every time I look at her.

LOOK. AT. THAT. FACE.

15. Books with happy endings.

16. Ordering new glasses.

17. Travel books.

18. Ice cream cake. And cake in general. And cupcakes. Especially from friends on your birthday!

LOOK AT THIS PRETTY, PRETTY CUPCAKE.

19. Humans are lucky: we get a lot of fresh starts. Even if we have a short life, every day is fresh.

20. Yoga…outside.

that’s my grandma again, doing yoga. Outside. And she’s way better than me. I might be ashamed if I wasn’t just in awe.

21. The best month of the year (besides December and October…) living up to my high standards.

22. Finishing my AmeriCorps hours!  Service year, check!

23.  My peeps. (And the fact that I’m lucky enough to have peeps, and to have peeps who don’t stop talking to me because I call them “my peeps.” I am eternally grateful that none of my friends have ever disowned me…including the Boyfriend…when I let my love of vernacular and accents carry me away. Sometimes this happens in very public places so really, thanks, peeps.)

24. The Boyfriend. (Read this post. I’m lucky).

25. Oh YEAH! Redesigning my blog and finally getting back into it make me really, really happy. (And I hope this makes YOU happy, too).

Lakeside

This past week, I have been at Roy Lake/Gull Lake/probably 10,000 others since this is truly the land of ’em, Minnesota.

It’s been a long summer, and a long year, and all I’ve been doing is spending every second I can on the water, eating chips, playing bingo and hanging with the family for my grandparents’ 60th wedding anniversary.

Heaven.

And yes, even with my family kind of driving me crazy, it’s still heaven, which tells you how nice this lake is.

Can I please be able to do yoga, like you see my grandmother doing below, at 82? And while I’m asking for things, can I inherit her skin, too?

Chances


I heard an interview once, one of the few times I was (accidentally) listening to a sports interview with Kurt Warner, an NFL player. The interviewer asked him this:

“How did you go from bagging groceries and stocking shelves at a grocery store, to a Superbowl winning quarterback, and future Hall of Famer?”

And Kurt’s answer? This: “All I needed was for someone to give me an opportunity.”

That kind of sums up my life.

About three years ago, I hit rock bottom. The Boyfriend and I had called it quits, officially, and since all of my other friends had boyfriends at the time (The Bozeman Curse…nobody there ever seems to be single…unless you’re a guy) and the group of friends I’d usually hung out with had chosen sides in the “Divorce,” I had no social life. I lived basically alone in my apartment as my roommate was so busy, and I was not. I had no one to be accountable to buy myself.

I stopped going to class, stopped talking to most of my friends, and even though most of my professors honestly tried to give me another chance, I couldn’t find it in myself to care.

I gave up on school, failed out of most of my classes, and tried to move on from the Boyfriend by attaching myself to random boys I met at the few parties I attended.

That summer, I accepted a position as a Night Auditor in a tiny Montana town. I mean tiny–as in a gas station. And a bar. (Of course).

Instead of making new friends like I had imagined, (I was on an opposite schedule from everyone else) I slept in my little cabin all day and read all night at my job.

The thing is, I didn’t feel unhappy.

I went back to school the next fall, but it was disappointing, as I was supposed to spend that year in Turkey, studying abroad, but that plan had been stymied by my poor grades.

So that Spring, on impulse or some other feeling, I signed up for Spanish classes in Peru and used up my savings on that semester.

While it was an incredible, difficult experience, I came back to find that…nothing had changed. There, I learned the hardest lesson of all–you can’t escape your mistakes, no matter how far you go. Maybe if I had never come back, but that really wasn’t an option in my broke-and-desperately-homesick state.

I came back and eventually continued my studies. None of my professors had any faith left in me, and my University let me back in because that is the rule. I took a full load of classes against much advice, determined to finish that year after watching most of my friends graduate that previous May.

It was a long, hard year full of books and studying, all in a blur. But, I did it. I guess what I needed most at that time was for so few people to believe in me. I guess I needed that so I could prove myself–so I could prove all the nay-sayers wrong.

An interesting life philosophy, I know.

When I F.I.N.A.L.L.Y. graduated, all I wanted to do was travel more, and write. So I traveled to Southeast Asia and began applying to creative writing schools.

During the application process, I began to realize graduate school might be a far-fetched idea, with my grades. I recieved many an denial letter that immediately dismissed me due to my G.P.A.

Yet, this year, I applied again.

What can I say? I’m a sucker for punishment.

It did happen again–some programs immediately rejected me when they saw my G.P.A.

But all I needed–just like Mr. Warner in the quote above–was for one person to give me a chance, to give me an opportunity.

I guess this time, I really did need for a perfect stranger to believe in me.

That is one of the most important things I’ve learned this year: the value of chances.

Every single kid I work with might not have made it very far with the Colorado “I Have a Dream” Foundation. They still might not make it very far. But some will. Some will go so far they will be unrecognizable, except to people like me, who helped mentor them at at every step.

Sometimes, all we can do for these kids is give them one chance. And often, that’s all they need.

Sometimes it takes awhile to sink in, and sometimes it takes more than one chance.

But sometimes, all you need is one.