The One with the Locked Locker

Today I spent the day subbing at my former high school which means there was a good deal of reminiscing. I thought about all the embarrassing things that happened in those days: tripping over a speed bump with my saxophone while marching through the parking lot as the band practiced for a parade, showing up to the wrong school on the first day of Freshman year (that particular story can be read here The One with the First Day of High School), and having to get the janitor to cut a lock off my locker. That story is the one I will share now...

My high school best friend and I shared a locker in the Band Room. For whatever reason we did not keep a lock on our shared locker; we did not even have a lock for it. I suppose we felt safe and boring enough to trust that no one would want to steal anything from us. I remember getting to History class one day and soon realizing that I did not have my book. After convincing my teacher to allow me to go fetch it I made my way to the Band Room. When I arrived to my locker I was completely confused. There was a lock on my locker. After looking into the surrounding lockers, they were barred and not steal doors so I could easily peer in, and seeing my things in the locked locker, I concluded that it was indeed my locker. I tugged on the lock thinking that maybe someone was playing a joke and put a fake lock on my locker. Nope. It was not unlocking. 

Feeling totally embarrassed, yet still in need of my History book, I went on a hunt for a janitor. Once I found the janitor it was even more embarrassing trying to explain why I needed the lock cut off. 

"No, I did not forget the combination."

"Yes, it really is my locker."

"Seriously, it has never had a lock on it. Now it does."

"C'mon, I really just need my History book."

"Thank you!"

How I finally convinced the janitor to let me into my own locker I do not remember, but I do remember the embarrassment. And I never did solve the mystery of where the lock came from. 

And now I keep everything locked. 

The One with Narnia Friendsgiving

Narnia may be a literary land of fantasy, but for me it is real life. The setting may not be an old wardrobe. There may be no White Witch. Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy may not be engaged in some epic battle. Even with those missing pieces though, my Narnia is every bit as fantastic.

Fantastic is Batman reading a Peanuts bedtime story to The Hulk. See that here... https://www.facebook.com/hilary.gallion/posts/10100942266298151

I was very happy to spend such a fun Friendsgiving with my Narnia community and I'm always thankful for the laughter we share. 

The One with Glenwood Springs

The train ride to Glenwood Springs was snowy and magical. 

All the scenery was simply beautiful and majestic. 

We arrived to a slight chill and then ate a scrumptious meal at a steakhouse inspired by a steak looking mountain. 

The gondola ride up the mountain was pretty spectacular too. 

At the top of the mountain we played, went through a maze, and sampled fudge. 

Time spent relaxing in the hot springs is a tradition I would like to continue. 

 

The One with the Airport Hug

Airports are such strange places filled with such strange people, especially when a stranger interrupts a special goodbye just to ask if she can hug your boyfriend. Was it because he was wearing a Royals jersey? Or was it because a hug from a stranger is apparently even more special because it is from someone you don't know? Whatever the reason, that's exactly what happened just a few days ago. Even with all my travels recently in faraway places, this happened in my own local airport. Welcome to the midwest, folks.

This stranger lady went on to explain her theory of hugging and it went a little something like this... If there was more hugging in the world there would be more love in the world and it would be such a different place. Hugs from someone you don't know are more special because they are not expected and sometimes the unexpected can be exceedingly profound. 

Although I also received a hug from the stranger lady and it was an awkward experience, it was memorable and this hugging theory is not completely unwarranted. 

Happy hugging!

The One with C'est la Vie

Deciding to leave my full-time job was the hard part, actually leaving was a little easier.

Now, it has been over a year that I made that decision and although countless other decisions have been made since, I am no closer to pinning down what I am doing with my life, at least not in the societal sense. Meaning society thinks I should have a career plan and a family plan, but here I am all like, "hey, life is an adventure and I'm having fun exploring the paths I want even if other people are exploring different ones."

When quitting my job I silently told myself that I would surely have a plan to enact by the time I had traveled to France (and back) for the wedding celebration of my sister.  Well, I embark on that journey to France at the end of the week and still have no idea what is next for my life. Maybe three weeks of travel, various language immersions and currencies, seeing old friends, making new friends, and simply being away from my safe place will be just the inspiration I need to make some decisions.

Until then, my only plan is to enjoy life, love those around me, and find beauty in seeing new places. In all honesty though, that is always my plan... It'll simply be time to expand that plan when I get back.C'est la vie...

The One with Alone Time

Between spending an unusual amount of time alone lately and just discovering that hitRECord is now on Netflix and watching the first episode, of which was regarding the number one and what it means, I feel compelled to write.

"I'm sick, I can't go out."

"It's too hot outside to do anything or go anywhere."

"I'm tired from work."

"I'm trying to save money before my trip."

These are all the statements I have found myself giving the last few weeks for why I choose to stay in for yet another day and another night. I recognize now, however, that these statements were actually my body and mind telling me to simply take some time to myself. Be lazy. Be restful. Be mindful.

After a few weeks of choosing much alone time I now find that when I do go out and spend time amongst the people, my people, I am more attentive to their stories and needs. I feel some of that is because I have spent so much time with my own thoughts that I am sincerely interested in hearing someone else's and also because I am anxious to hear anyone else's voice besides by own.

I like partaking in community and giving of myself and my time. It is what makes me feel like a good friend and like I am doing things that matter. That said, although my communal activities have been limited lately, I know just how important alone time is to then make time in community even more beneficial.

"I just need some time away to remember why I stay." - Joseph Gordon-Levitt, The Tiny Book of Tiny Stories, Vol. 2

The One with June: The Month of the Selfie Stick

At the beginning of June a friend lent her selfie stick to me for a wedding I was going to and little did I know how ridiculous... ridiculously fun... it would prove to be. I ended up purchasing my own and continue to have ridiculous amounts of fun with it. It has now gone with me to a wedding, a Royals game, Powell Gardens, a birthday party, and other random places.

Here's to July being just as much fun!

The One with The Jerusalem Cafe Prayer

"Faith comes in all shapes and sizes." That was my mom's response after I told her about a recent  happening at work. A table of four young girls, one of which moved about in a wheelchair, seemed most pleasant as I dropped off their drinks. That was my only interaction with them durning their dining experience, however, as they were leaving I extended good night salutations and began cleaning their table. My hands were full of dirty cups and plates when I turned around to see that two of the girls were coming back to the table. After misunderstanding one of them an awkward amount of times, one of my co-workers finally clarified for me- the girls were asking if and how they could pray for me that night. Fumbling for words through my surprise, I somehow managed to mention that my grandma had just died and that it would be nice if she could pray for the resolution of her estate and for my family. Then, after introducing ourselves, the girl in the wheel chair bowed her head and prayed aloud right there, in the middle of the restaurant, for my dad and for the rest of my family. After the final "amen", I thanked her most sincerely and again said good night. 

As I finished cleaning the table afterward I thought back to the days when I prayed like those girls. I thought about the days when I circled around people and requested specific ways I could pray for them and then did. I thought about how my feelings of prayer have changed and how most often it is more of a heart thing than it is verbal thing anymore... Something I feel and express in my heart versus what I say with words. I may often complicate my words, but God knows my heart and that is what I will trust. 

So many things will remain with me for a long time from this prayerful interaction, one of which is having another co-worker ask why I was the one the girls approached in regards to prayer. I had not been the one to serve them and spent no time conversing with them, so why was I chosen. I told her it was because maybe they knew that she would scream things about wanting to win the lottery while their heads were bowed. 

Considering the many mixed feelings I had about the whole thing, my final thought is that it was simply one kind soul reaching out and showing love through the ways she knows... 

God bless. 

The One with Grandma and the Will

As my end of the month deadline for posting a blog has arrived, the end of a life has given me the need to write. My grandma Tapley, my last grandparent, passed away this morning. Last week while she was in the hospital, after I finished an appointment at the same hospital, I stopped by her room to visit. She held on to my hand so tight and after asking what I could do for her, she requested that I stay with her and tell her stories. She promptly fell asleep, but I stayed by her side for a bit and listened to her snore. Those moments listening to her snore are now my most precious memories of me and my grandma Tapley as they are the only moments we shared just the two of us. I feel extremely grateful that my last words to my grandma were sentiments of love.

Thanks was given to Grandma this afternoon when rummaging through the house for her Will. After hours of searching through drawers and closets, envelopes and boxes, nooks and crannies, bills and coins, my mom sat her armload down and exclaimed, "Ok, Doris. Where is it?" No sooner had she finished her exclamation when the bottom of the plastic Walmart sack I had just picked up busted open and out dropped the Will. Thanks Grandma. 

There are few sweeter words than "grandma" and I already miss having someone to call that.

Rest easy Grandma. 

The One with Take Your Child to Work Day

One of my favorite days of the year when I was a kid was "Take Your Child to Work Day". Working with my dad on "Take Your Child to Work Day" consisted of driving to a couple of appointments in the morning, eating lunch at Pizza Hut, and going to see a movie at the theater. This was the annual routine and it made me feel so special to spend the day working (and also kind of playing hooky) with my dad. 

Maybe it was those days of pizza and movies during the week and having the freedom and flexibility to do so because of the nature of my dad's work that has me interested in finding something similiar. Once I'm eventually settled into whatever that happens to be I may have to invite my dad for our own "Take Your Dad to Work Day". 

So, for all of that, thanks Pop. Pizza's on me next time. 

Happy "Take Your Child to Work Day"!

The One with the Birthday Ring

As a kid I remember playing in the creek with my cousins by our grandparents' house. Through the years all sorts of little trinkets were found and crawdads were caught. Over twenty years ago I found a ruby ring with a missing stone in that creek. Even with the missing stone I wore that ring proudly as a kid and growing up always wanted to add that final ruby. 

A few weeks before my birthday this year my dad asked if he had permission to rummage through some of my stuff because he was working on a birthday surprise. The days that followed left me curious as he left no traces behind after his rummaging. My birthday weekend finally arrived and started with my dad eagerly gifting me the surprise. It came in a little red box and when I got it I immediately thought I had the surprise figured out. "I think it's my ruby ring!" Sure enough, there was my ruby ring with all of its rubies. And my, how it shined! 

That ruby ring was an incredible birthday surprise and is now even more of a treasure. Thanks Mom and Pop! 

 

The One with 7th Grade- Then and Now

As a substitute teacher for the district in which I was first a student, I knew that at some point I would find myself back in a former school. 7th grade was my first trip down Memory Lane. Not only was I a substitute at a school I had attended, but I was a substitute in one of the classrooms I sat in as a student. I could look out from the classroom, across the hallway, and see my old locker. It was strange how much looked the same, how much looked different, and how much I had simply forgotten over time. As a fun fact for the students in my classes I told them that I too had been a student in their classroom. Maybe I should have withheld that fact because when one student asked me when that was I felt like an ancient alien saying the year 1999 aloud. I then realized that those students were younger in years than the number of years since I had been a student at their school! 

In the 99-00 school year, the start of the new millennium, I thought I knew so much about myself and the world. My awkward and dramatic teenage self had no idea what was to come and where the next 16 years would take me. All I knew then was that I was in love with the boy who sat in front of me in English, I hated gym class, I was riding the school bus for the first time, my bestie and I were fighting, I thought I had a Jennifer Aniston haircut, I started wearing contacts, and I was having the time of my life making new friends and passing notebooks back and forth with them as well as making dates to chat on AOL Instant Messenger via my parent's dial up Internet. 

Much like my teenage self in the 7th grade, I have no idea what the next 16 years will look like. The difference between then and now is that I realize I am a work in progress and that I am capable of adapting to change, I have the confidence to try new things, and that when I do not know what else to do I can be a sub. 

Cheers to middle school students always passing notes and notebooks, even in the digital age! 

The One where Hope is Trapped

Death, life, and hope have been heavy on mind and heart lately. On many occasions recently I've had the pleasure of sitting around multiple tables with so many of the dearest people in my world. During these times at the table there have been tears of grief, tears of laughter, games played (I lost more than seems fair), memories shared, and new memories made.

Entirely too many people that I know are currently experiencing the grief that comes from the death of a loved one. Whether young or old, sick or healthy, rich or poor, acquaintance or kin, I believe that with death comes a special kind of hope. Hope that dear ones will be there to show you love, hope that you will again be in a place together to reunite with the one that left, hope that you will live this short life with a full heart, and hope that when death comes for you that you will accept it with peace and elegance.

"When illness enters a home, not only does it take hold of a body, it also weaves a dark web between hearts, a web where hope is trapped." This quote from Muriel Barbery's book The Elegance of the Hedgehog keeps coming back to me. It gives life and movement to the idea of hope and paints a beautiful picture of what it looks like to be trapped in the sticky webs of the heart.

For those greiving, know you are loved and trust in the power of hope.

The One with 2014

2015 has only just begun and already there has been much reflection on 2014.

Although the ringing in of 2014 was the most fun I have ever had on a New Year's Eve, the next 365 days did not follow suit. The last year was, most certainly, the strangest and hardest year of my life. I have had strange and hard seasons of my life, but last year seemed to be one continuous strange and hard season.

2014 brought with it an array of employment choices. It also offered many miles to travel, dreams to chase, relationships to gain and change, and goals to achieve. Even through all the good of the year, the overwhelming feelings of uncertainty and confusion that loom about me are what make me certain that 2015 must be nothing but better than the last.

2014 Highlights:

Chicago Trip

Lent

Springfield, Tulsa, Denver Trip

North Carolina Trip

Months of housesitting

Paying off my car loan and one student loan

New York Trip

Colorado Trip

Working and making friends at the Jerusalem Cafe

The health of my family

Royals baseball

Meeting my New Year's Resolutions (to write one blog post a month and to read 12 books)


Big love and cheers to new adventures and appreciation in 2015!

xoxo