I've Lost a Few People Along the Way

I’ve lost a few people along the way...  Not on purpose, to be sure.  I’m a no-man-left-behind kind of girl – yet somehow there are people I have lost, in clear and definite ways.  All involved tearful partings, but truly, most losses were for the best.  Yet every now and then a story surfaces that conjures their name to my life and a pang of absence will hit me from out of nowhere.  Dear friends of yore… One moment we were walking down the same path in the woods, and the next moment our paths diverged.  

I don’t want to be a girl who burns bridges, but sometimes they just catch flame.  Lightning strikes.  A cow kicks over a barrel which in turn knocks over a lantern.  Acts of God as they say.  Or maybe just acts within us that needed to come out in some volatile way.  I’m not sure...

I am sure my life is better without them.  Most of them… I’m similarly sure their lives are better without me…  Most of them.  But it’s hard to have known someone’s life so intimately and now be completely out of touch.  It’s hard for them to once have known me and my world so intimately – and for them to now have no idea.  No familiarity with my current dreams, the talent and pride I have in my job, my newer friends – that they don’t know the man (and may not ever know?) - who is clearly the love of my life.  It’s weird that those phantom friends aren’t around to meet him, to know him, to celebrate with me.  It’s weird that they don’t know me anymore, who I’ve become.  I’d like to think that some of them wouldn’t recognize me.  I’d like to think the growth I’ve done over the years has changed my energy entirely. 

And I know I couldn’t have accomplished it with them around.  So I guess I thank them.  I thank them for contributing to my life in the ways they did – some by good intentions, and some by leaving.  By walking away – maybe even being the one toss a match.  It upset me then, but I see now it was a final gift of love… even if disguised in something much more ugly. 

I’ve lost a few people along the way.  Let me tell you, though, about the gems I have gained…

The Shots Heard 'Round the World

It’s funny.  You’d think I’d be one of the super anti-gun people right about now.  It would certainly fall in line with the community in which I was raised.  And, well, I’m not into ‘em…  As someone who’s very anti-violence and anti-war, obviously I don’t like guns.  But somehow I’m not terrified of right-to-carry laws.  Admittedly, I haven’t really done all my homework on it – but somehow the jurisdiction around guns doesn’t get me very upset.  I hate that they exist… but they’re here, you know?  I can’t change that.  So if we’re going to be a society that has guns, then by all means, let’s make some laws about them.  I may disagree with laws certain areas choose, but fine, whatever the majority of a city or a state wants – agree to it and let’s go from there. 

To me, the key component is: what does “let’s go from there” look like?  That’s where I get upset. Look at what people do with guns.  And yes, we all know I’m talking about the recent horrific school shootings.  But that’s not all I’m talking about.  I’m talking about gang violence, too.  Crimes and robberies.  I’m talking about all the unspeakable things people can be made to do at gunpoint.  Our country collectively lacks spirituality, responsibility for our actions, perspective about how other countries live, and most of all – healthy, acceptable ways to deal with horrible things.

Pay It Forward

I boarded my morning CTA bus the other day, swiped the ol' transit card linked to my checking account, and overheard the girl behind me anxiously ask the bus driver if there was a way to pay with credit card.  When the answer was no, she sounded defeated and said, "Okay..." and started to exit the bus.  I turned. "Wait," I said. "I've got you." She hesitated, and asked "Are you sure?"  I replied, "Yeah no problem."  I raised an eyebrow and my card at the driver. Wordlessly, he hit a button on the fare machine so I could use my same card for a new fare.  "Thank you SO much," the girl said to me with relief and gratitude in her voice.  I waved it off and said, "People have helped me before." And I moseyed on to sit down and start my morning makeup-application-on-the-bus routine.

As I put on my eyeshadow, I wondered about that girl's story... Was she in a hurry or running late?  What for?  Where was she going?  And how did she know the CTA well enough to take it on her own somewhere, but not enough to know they don't take charge cards?  Was she having a bad morning?  Could my action have possibly changed the course of her day?  Maybe, maybe not... but I'd like to think yes.  

See, a few years ago, someone changed the course of my day in a similar situation...  

Morning Sad

Clouds move like rippling water outside the plane window.  Dark sky – sunrise starting, ever so slightly on the horizon line – a thin line of bright against dark, color slightly different at each glance.  Dark accented by light.  Emotional clouds, sea-like. 

Thank goodness sunrises are gradual.  Daylight is a wonderful thing, but going from night to day in an instant would be way too harsh, way too overwhelming.  Some of the more beautiful things in this world are subtle – the accent candlelight lends to a room, the crunch of fall leaves, the smell of rain, a lover’s soft touch on the skin... 

Love and X-Men

I’m into X-Men.  I have two younger brothers and when we were growing up, X-Men was a big part of our Saturday morning cartoons, and a big part of the comic books that entered our house.  There weren’t many life interests I shared in common with my brothers – I certainly didn’t catch the sports bug – but X-Men, X-Men I liked.  Each Saturday morning, I happily ate my cereal alongside my brothers when they flipped the channel to X-Men (Ghostbusters, too, obviously) – and I would always read their X-Men comics after they finished with them.  The Dark Phoenix Saga was my favorite storyline, and I am pretty sure I had a crush on Gambit.

It’s fun to talk X-Men nowadays – a) because I like it when guys are surprised and impressed at my knowledge of X-Men, and b) because it’s just a fun, throwback thing to talk about.  Inevitably when you get into an X-Men conversation with someone, at some point the question comes up: “Who would you want to be if you were an X-Man?”  GREAT question – a lot of fun to think about and discuss.  Everyone wants to be Wolverine or Jean Grey or hell, maybe Mystique or Night Crawler.  And look, I’ll happily have that conversation with you if you’d like – but you know what conversation no one has?  “Which X-Man ARE you?”  Which is, as they say, a horse of a different color... 

Mayoress of the Gold Coast

My childhood was largely influenced by Oldies music and Disney movies.  As a 30 year old working a corporate job in downtown Chicago, you wouldn't think either of those influences would surface much in my professional life, but you'd be surprised how often they do.  Stay with me as I get you there.

Every morning on my way into work, I have the distinct pleasure of a stroll down Oak Street - the most expensive block of shopping in Chicago.  It's a surreal experience, walking on Oak Street.  Prada, Hermes, Barneys, Jimmy Choo, Harry Winston - all these stores that I've never had cause or wealth to step foot in - and that's not even the full roster of stores.  

Oak Street is surreal for many reasons: 

Sing. Dance. Love... CELEBRATE.

I write to you on the eve of my 30th birthday... My, does time fly.

At work today, a colleague-who's-turned-dear-friend looked at me and demanded, "HOW is it you're going to be 30 tomorrow??"  I had no answer... And he and I have only known each other five years - I can only imagine how my mother feels about it.

As I'd hope many people do, I often think of my parents on my birthday - especially my mother. Our relationship has had many evolutions over the 30 years I've been on this planet... We've had highs and lows, shared laughter and tears, experienced intense joy and intense sadness - but where we started?  We started with magic.

The magic of creating a baby girl out of thin air.  The magic of carrying her for nine months and wondering about her the whole time.  I was their firstborn - my mom had a lot of time to dream about me.  She tells me that she and my dad went to Hawaii while she was pregnant with me, and she remembers being on a beach one evening, swimming - and something in the water made her pregnant belly glow. She says she knew then that I would be special...