The One with Wrestling

In high school I knew zilch about wrestling, yet now, super post high school, I am starting to learn. Last night I attended my first wrestling dual. I always thought it was called a match, but the matches are between individual wrestlers whereas, a dual is between two teams.

The drive to Olathe was a long one. Accident traffic is never fun, especially when you have somewhere to be, and I was anxious to pick up my best friend from high school and head to the dual. Finally, we arrived at the school and laughed our way inside where we looked in a number of windows and peeked behind many doors before finding any wrestlers. We almost just went to watch the band concert instead.

We got many stares from the high school students as we sat in the bleachers to cheer on a team we hardly knew for a sport we knew even less about. In was fun and funny to be sitting in a high school again with my high school best friend recounting our own glory days and rehashing all the ways we did not fit in at our own high school and laughing at how we did not fit in at ONW either.

As the dual went on we got better at figuring out the rules. Or maybe we were just having too much fun and were actually making up our own rules. Either way, wrestling started to make sense to us. And then it was over in an eruption of cheers. It was a fun win and I am glad I got to see it happen.

After a celebratory dinner it was time for me to drive back to Independence, but not before getting pulled over. There are some similarities in the two times I have been pulled over. First time I was sitting at a red light and waiting to turn left, same last night. First time I had just made the turn and the lights came on behind me, same last night. First time I had no idea why I was being pulled over, same last night. First time it was for expired plates, last night was for a malfunctioning headlight. First time, I got a ticket; last night I only got a warning. First time was the exact day that my new insurance card went into effect, same last night. 

What I have learned. Olathe police are nice, Independence police are not. Oh, and wrestling is fun.

The One With Riz Au Lait

Sometime since about January I have been meaning to attempt making the French dessert riz au lait. The standards were set extremely high as my French mum made the last batch that I consumed such an abundance of. Last week I perused the Internet for some simple yet still French style recipes and came across a blog that I have since come to read and enjoy often.

This particular recipe came with a story about memories with a grandmother so I was even keener on attempting this one. The first skepticism, however, came when the recipe’s first ingredient was Arborio rice. Lucikly, a dear friend and cousin helped me in my search for this. Thanks Price Chopper for providing. Also feeling skeptical of the vanilla bean and seeding it I continued my Internet search for some tips. Feeling confident in at least knowing what a vanilla bean looked like I made my way back to Price Chopper and was yet again successful in my search. Finding things in grocery stores always proves to be a chore so I consider both of these findings great successes.

Finally having all the necessary ingredients, enough rest, and a night with no plans I decided to indulge in some French cooking fun. I enthusiastically split open the vanilla bean and seeded it like a pro. It is insanely simple but it was a proud moment nonetheless. The smell of the vanilla, mixed with milk and cream, immediately made me want to melt into the pot that I had just added it to. Vanilla is my most favorite scent and I knew the dessert was going to be delectable. Twenty minutes later after countless stirs, a fair amount of sniffs, and uncontainable excitement I added the sugar and waited a whole two seconds before I started eating my own bowl of homemade riz au lait.

The first spoonful melted away all my cares of today, took me back to the holidays with my French family, and more than satisfied my eager taste buds. I know that my French family waits until Christmas to eat this dessert, but I am uncertain that I can say the same for me. Christmas will most definitely be a time for riz au lait, but I cannot say that it will be a specialty just for the day. Mom’s coffee café will have to remain the dish that we reserve strictly for Christmas.

Bon appétit!

The One With Remy

Four weeks ago tonight I took a picture of my Dharma-bear resting with her grandpa before Mr. Remington Gregory (as I affectionately refer to him) graced our household.

The first encounter between the two dogs did not in any way happen as I had envisioned. I imagined rear-end sniffs, face licks, and happy jumps. Instead Remy growled and lunged in the front yard, which left Dharma scared, traumatized, and later confused when we brought him inside with us.

The first few days they both remained on their leashes although Remy had already warmed to Dharma. She was reluctant to share any sort of affection or attention and was no stranger to turning her head away when he trotted by. Finally, feeling a surge of braveness, I unhooked the leashes from both of their collars and took a deep breath. It was fine. They both just sat where they were.

Things have remained relatively chill since then. There has been an occasional growl when one takes the other’s spot on the couch, a few barks when Remy wants to play and Dharma does not comprehend the idea behind fetch, and a minimal amount of redirection during the one night that they both stayed in bed with me.

It is nice to have another dog around even when all 36 pounds of him jumps into my lap and leaves my crotch aching for longer than welcomed. Even though Dharma does not like to share it is pleasant to see her sharing her tricks and blankets with her new brother.

Cheers to puppy buddies!

The One With the Butterfly

The smell of flowers at a funeral home is always so overwhelming. Today as I sat and waited for the eulogizing words of my friend's father, those flowers brought tears to my eyes and heart just like they always have and always will.

During the ceremony and graveside service I was keenly aware of all the young life that surrounded me. On one side of me sat a dear friend with his snoring son in his arms and on the other side sat an old friend with his daughter sprawled lovingly in his lap. That same precious girl later found innocence and love in a butterfly that she captured in her hands after rescuing it from the grass. As shameful as it is, I'll admit that I stepped on Butterfly before getting into the car.

It is the laughter, the love, and the little things that make my life worth it. Worth the pain and heartache. Worth the struggle and tears. So long as I recognize the good times and make the most of them then I'm considering that a miracle.

I was blessed today to see some great love even though it was in the midst of grief. I pray my friend and her family are able to find the coming laughter, love, and little things worthwhile.

The One With Bizi Rocket Tapley

 7/29/10-7/29/13

          Spunky, feisty, energetic, busy- that was our Bizi alright. Bizi became a Tapley not more than a month after my move home. She was still a young pup and I remember the night we took Dharma to my Cousin Bob’s house to meet her. Dharma came along so we could see if they would get along- which they did more often times than not. For the longest time Bizi could not figure out how to cuddle and teaching a dog to cuddle is not easy. I remember her collapsing onto me and contorting into an awkward cuddle, yet with time, her cuddles became much more natural and precious.

            Bizi was often a lot to handle. She barked a lot, picked a lot of fights, peed a lot, and chewed on shoes a lot. Through all those stubborn moments though, she was smart. She knew when to take herself to her crate when she was upset, she knew when to cuddle when someone else was upset, and she knew how to keep the backyard free of wild animals (moles, birds, bunnies, raccoons, etc.) She gave us much to write about and much to learn from.

            There was always some sort of trouble or near death experience that Bizi was narrowly escaping. Once she broke loose from her leash and went flying through the neighborhood only to get hit by a car. We nursed her back to health and she survived, although she did have a lasting limp. Another time she drank Dharma’s liquid flea medicine and was force fed hydrogen peroxide to vomit it out of her system. Again, she survived, although that did not stop her from eating or drinking things that were bad for her. It was these incidents that gave up hope that she would recover after having eaten rotten trash and not eating anything else for days. It was the vet’s persistent attempts that made us optimistic, and it is our love that continues to mend the brokenness in our hearts.

            I am thankful for the moments I took advantage of and played with Bizi in the snow, sucked it up and took her on walks, allowed her onto my bed to play (even though she still peed nearly every time), and the one time I took her to the dog park with Dad and Dharma.

       She was a crazy cool pup and for as awful as her early departure was, she will forever have a special place in my heart. Much love Bizi. Now, go find Pappy John and play with him if you have not yet done so. 

The One With Stopping Time

Recently, time stopped for a very special and unique soul. She was a social and fashion forward woman I served through my job. Through honoring her life by telling stories and remembering her joking ways I am reminded to take a deep breath (because I can) and to take in everything I can about the good moments when they come my way. Learning to take advantage of the good times is my way of making it through this crazy life.

There are a lot of moments in my life when I feel time stop, although maybe pause is a better word. These moments are most often the times I spend with my silly family and the times I spend with friends that I choose to call family. I feel incredibly blessed to experience so many of these moments and continue breathing when the next moment comes.

In the last few weeks time has paused when I chat with my best friend and love on her newborn daughter, when I stand at the waterfront and watch my friends attempt to light lanterns, when I dance the night away after witnessing an awesome couple vow their lives to each other, when I cheers to life with Italian Margaritas shared with fun girls, when I am invited to celebrated the birthday of a long time friend, when I go vintage shopping with my parents and my aunts, when I eat crepe, and when I celebrate the marriage of a fun couple at an annual anniversary party.

Time is a weird thing. Sometimes it speeds by and sometimes is passes in slow motion. All in all, there is never enough. It is the moments when time is irrelevant that I know something special is happening and it is those moments that I remember when all else fails. 

The One With Graduation and Fate

For the last number of weeks my younger cousin has been tweeting and status updating about prom, the last day of school, baccalaureate, and graduation. I have been unable to stop reminiscing about that time in my own life.

Listening to all the graduation speeches made me ponder what I would say if I were asked to give a graduation address. The ideas expressed would, in some way, resemble this.

The following was a quote used in one of the speeches-

"I am the master of my fate; I am the captain of my soul." (William Ernest Henley). I can get on board with the second half of that quote. Fate is bigger than I am so I want to refrain from saying that I am master of my own, but I can guide the decisions that lead to my fate. Much as a captain guides his ship to shore. The wind and waves may push me to and fro, high and low, near and far but the responsibility of guiding my decisions remains mine. I will, therefore, assemble all my loved ones onto the ship with me and steer myself to a life of loving, laughing, and learning.

Living for something/ someone bigger than yourself creates a sense of belonging, fulfillment, and purpose. That something bigger can be God, family, job, a worthy cause, and maybe even fate. Living for fate seems ridiculous, but in some way it is merely another way of saying, "chase your dreams".

Today, as I remember the liberating feeling of the small rebellious act of tossing my graduation cap after the tassel switched sides and the school song resounded throughout the auditorium, I say to those just knowing the feeling of liberation for the first time to keep your loved ones on board and always steer your ship towards love and eventually fate will show its face just after the horizon.

Congrats class of 2013!