Quoted...

"This isn't how I thought my life would go." She said to me.
I responded, "Does life ever go they way we think it should?"
"No, I guess not." she said.

This was one of the most honest conversations I have ever had with my best friend.  We sat over dinner in New York in a bar that George Washington supposedly dined at.  My best friend was in New York, that was an accomplishment in itself.  And I live here. Sometimes that's hard for me to believe, when I get wrapped in the routine of all my daily habits, I forget that that is kind of a big deal.

So we sat there comparing notes.  Going over the last year of our life.  And contemplating how we got there.  It's interesting the stories we tell, the way life has gone for us.  We sat there, and when she said that I felt like our eyes were opened to adulthood.

Bonding.

It never ceases to amaze me how quickly you can bond with people in stressful situations.  The subways always seem to be under construction, especially on the weekends.  Thus there's no lack of bonding happening.  I'm pretty sure I made 4 new friends on the subway when I asked, "But we're still stopping at 34th st, right?"  I had posed the question to the woman across from me, because she had seen me pull out my earphones and try to listen to the muffled woman on the intercom, failing miserably to understand what she was saying.  The woman with her son, said, "Yes." with a smile.  Than the woman to my right, chimed in and touched my arm, she was with her daughter, husband, son-in-law and granddaughter and she leaned over to say "yes dear, yes it is, but after that stop it won't be making stops until Brooklyn, so just be careful."  It was very sweet, and slightly funny.  Then the two women to my left decided to tell me it was indeed and the man across from me, reading the very fascinating book, "Darcy and Fitzwilliam" which was contrary to his appearance, as what I would peg his "type" of book to be, decided that this warranted a full explanation of the trains and schedules and went on to explain what was happening with the rail and where exactly the next stops would be.  It was all very helpful, and I always appreciate everyone taking the time to bond together to figure out the rigors of mass transportation.

Re Blog from Little Reminders of Love

I read this this morning and felt it resonate with me on a level I didn't know was possible.  There are a lot of changes happening in my life and a feeling of 'starting over' is something that I'm just beginning to feel comfortable with.  I always feel anxious and ready for the next step, but also apprehensive and scared.  And I think this post was truly inspired and reminded me that I'm not the only one who feels this way.  So I wanted to share this post from the blog I found it on, Little Reminders of Love 

"One thing you need to learn about life."  From the blog "Let Love In." 

You have to get used to square one. When you are recovering from anything, square one sounds like the worst possible option. When you are learning something new, square one sounds so tedious  and you just want to jump to square 53 already, but life doesn’t work that way and love doesn’t work that way and learning doesn’t work that way. And I know most of us wished it did, but because it doesn’t, we have to get used to square one. 

Make a home out of square one. Decorate it with recovery, and paint it with patience. When you realize you have to take a few steps back, to understand someone or something, just go back to this home you’ve made in square one. 

Become so familiar with the different rooms, that when you go, you know exactly which one you need to sit in - understanding, trust, love, hope, and knowledge. But there is one extra room, every house on square one has it - the fear room. Paint it the brightest yellow you know, and vacuum the dust bunnies, and scrape off the popcorn ceiling. Open up the windows, and let the air flow in. Don’t close and lock the door. Drown fear in the bathtub, instead of being afraid of it.  

Become so familiar with square one, that when you have to go back - whether you were in square two or eighty-three - that when you open up the front door, you find yourself kissing the ground and dancing with joy. Let square one be a safe place for you, and not just an awkward, shameful walk home.  

When all you know has been burned to the ground and your home on square 71 is in ashes, don’t be afraid to sprint to square one and crash into the couch that holds so many dried up tears.  

Let square one be a home - beginnings don’t have to be hard - and the start of something doesn’t have to be scary - square one has a welcome mat and the key has always been in your pocket. 

When you hit the negatives - that home you built, is still right there.  

Let yourself sit there for however long you need until things are okay again. 

Then say “see you soon, old friend” 

Become comfortable with square one.

It's a small small world.

I know I didn't write much at all about Spain, besides that I went.  But I have a short story for you. I arrived in Spain, got off the plane, full of confidence, all I needed to do was find the shuttle and I'd be fine.  I found it, approached the man, and realized the extent of my Spanish would not cover what I needed to ask. So I spoke in English, this was the first in many realizations that I found out, I probably wouldn't need to use my Spanish skills (or lack thereof) at all.  I simply stated "I need to get to the place on the front of the bus."  The gorgeous blue eyed, black haired man smiled and me and said, "Of course, get on, pay the driver, and wait to get off until the very last stop."  "Gracias" "De nada y Beinvenue." I got on the bus and immediately realized I wasn't the only American.  Two guys, one military for sure, were getting on, mumbling and already complaining (typical) I noticed the taller one's sweatshirt first, "Rochester University,"  they sat down a few rows behind me.  Then a woman got on and sat directly behind me, with an older man accompanying her.  He soon got off, and I worked up the courage to turn around and ask the two guys behind me about the guys sweatshirt.  He said it was his girlfriend's, I told him my best friend went there.  We started talking, turns out they both had gone to Boston college, but were from San Francisco originally.  One of them was living in Berlin, and the other was still in California. The girl behind me decided to chime in too, turns out she was from San Diego.  It was fun to chat with people from my home state in a city around the world.  It's crazy how small the world becomes the more you travel and meet people.  I got off the bus, and so did the two guys, I had told them I was there to celebrate my little brothers birthday and they said we should go to this club by the water and they pointed me in the direction of Las Ramblas where I told them my hotel was.  I was grateful because my phone was about to die, and that meant the directions with it.  I said goodbye and marveled at what a small world it is.

10's a high number to count to.

As we sat beside the water, next to the boat house at Bethesda Fountain, we were watching all the struggling boat enthusiasts and making up our own little stories to along with each group.  After a little while a little girl walked up with her parents, and like parents do they started asking her questions to get her thinking.  She couldn't have been more than 4 and her dad leaned down and asked, "Sweetie, how many boats are there?" She lifted her pointer finger and started counting, "1, 2, 3, 4, 5,6, 7, 8, 9, 10..." She paused.  "Daddy, I can't count that high."  It was just the cutest thing.  She stated it so matter of factly.

Jokes for $1.00

A few weeks ago, my best friend was in town and we were strolling through Central Park together.  As we were walking passing many vendors and musicians, there was one man in particular who stood out.  He was standing off to the side, with about 15 little munchkins surrounding him.  They were all under the age of 10 if I had to guess and they were giggling and laughing.  He was holding a sign that read "Jokes for $1.00, guaranteed to make you laugh."  From the looks of it, he was making good on his guarantee.  As we passed by, we stopped to hear one of his jokes.  He started, "So, these two fries get married."  and before he could even say the next line there was a resounding "Ewwww......" My best friend and I started laughing and the young man telling the jokes did too.  He looked at all of them, giggling and saying "ew" and said, "Ew, why ew?"   We didn't wait around to hear the munchkin responses, but it was utterly adorable.

oh kids, gotta love 'em

On the way home I was waiting for my train on the platform when all of a sudden what sounded like a stampede descended the staircase on my platform.  I looked up and saw about 15 middle schoolers and 3 adult wranglers.  The train was approaching, and wouldn't you know it, it was their train too.  We got on, I waited for the mass to get through the doors. I was leaning against the door, just watching the kids, moving from seat to seat, giggling and telling each other secrets. Asking their teachers a million questions.  One of the male teachers was a little older than me, he was surrounded by three of the kids, 2 girls and a boy.  They were like master interrogators, throwing questions at him, rapid fire.  One of them asked if he was married, another asked how old  he was and another asked if he had a girlfriend since he wasn't married.  They continued questioning him about his relationship status and he was blushing and laughing answering as vaguely as possible and finally he ended the conversation by stating. "You guys sound like my mother."  I silently added in my own head, welcome to the club.