Pregnancy Day 218:

I'm sick or my body is sick of pregnancy. I'm not sure. Either way my throat is killing me and my bones hurt and I've taken to sleeping on the couch.

In positive news, our little one is now the size of a pineapple and moving around like crazy trying to find more room. Only 8 more weeks until we get to meet her!

Pregnancy Day 213 (on 12.13.12...fun!)

Oh hi! I'm still pregnant!

Obviously a good thing, though I've now reached the "everything-is-terribly-uncomfortable-and-can-I meet-my-baby-yet?" phase.

Together we are 30 weeks or 31 weeks or 7 months or 8 months (depending on the app/website I chose to use) but most definitely in the third trimester with only 9 weeks to go until my due date. 

Crazy milstones that have happened since the last time I blogged:
- She surpassed my birth-weight and is now about 3lbs.
- We had my baby shower, which was beautiful and just the right amount of baby/pink/showerness for me to handle.
- I've graduated to TWO doctor appointments a month. Oooo. 
- She enjoys doing somersaults and kicking/punching me in the bladder which is weirdest and also slightly painful.
- The nursery area is pretty much set up, minus the washing of all her clothes and purchasing a crib.


Things that still need some major attention:
- Vaccination research!
- Cordblood banking!
- Setting up said crib!
- Taking the cat to the vet!
- Double check insurance!


Thankfully Christmas/New Years/My birthday (woo!) are great distractions for how impatient I feel to meet her. 

This is also what I look like now:

It may or may not be small but I assure you I feel huge and don't know how much longer I can drive and get off the couch and sleep before I just can't anymore. 

Pregnancy Day 165:

I'm not sure if it's that I'm getting closer to the third trimester or what but the last few days have brought on several new changes. Loss of balance, restless nights, metallic taste in my mouth. Weird stuff. Worse is the lethargic nature I feel about leaving the house now. It's not that I'm overly tired or sick feeling, I just don't want to leave the house lately to go to work. I'd rather stay home and catch up on movies and clean the house over and over. Maybe it's just the weather.

Pregnancy Day 161:

Before I was pregnant I used to imagine what I would look like and how it would feel. I'd stick out my stomach as far as it would go and laugh. I'd dream about having cravings for fruit I previously hated or imagine gaining 200lbs.

When that first pee stick showed a plus sign, none of those images were there. Just sinking disbelief.

At first everything felt slow and awkward and very very scary. Now six months in, I feel at home. Maybe it's the hormones finally kicking in. Maybe it's the fact that my daily internal monologue usually consists of "your body is meant to do this." Maybe its that I can finally refer to it as a "she" and feel her dance around. Whatever the reason, I feel happy and finally my own age (at least today) when I spot my reflection. Every past conversation filled with panic and fear and self righteousness about any plans for my future suddenly seem trite and unnecessary. Not unlike that moment before getting engaged.

I told someone recently that "I no longer have the time to raise my friends" that most of their problems were now just that; theirs. That might seem obvious to you but to a control freak that just wants her friends to have some personal pride and be happy...it's a lot. My friends have always been my babies. People I've exchanged milestones with. Through job changes, college choices, weddings, relationship troubles, or big cross continent moves. We've watched each other grow but recently a lot of them have end up stagnate while I sprinted ahead in this mythical guideline of life. Good or bad, I can't say.

The truth is, what I realized is I'm done raising myself now. I'm getting happy ending (not to jinx it universe!). Soon I will be raising a small baby.

I used to fear dying during childbirth (to be fair I still do), mostly because when you're a miracle baby and you haven't reached greatness yet, you imagine you have an expiration date. And what's greater then giving continuing the life cycle? What I know now is that greatness is hidden in the small moments. Like a perfect fall day with Iron & Wine on the radio while cuddling with your husband.

What I'm trying to get at is a part of me will die after giving birth. The absentminded privalge of being selfish is no more. I will no longer be just Lauren or Lauren & Alan. Together we make up a family and even though its nearly impossible to picture myself at 39 year olds with a 10 year old daughter (& hopefully siblings) or sending them all off to college, I still can't wait. And I think I understand why now. My life is no longer about me. It is about her and us and the hidden greatness.

Alan says pregnancy is making me soft and cheesy. (Shrug). It's kinda a nice change of pace.

Pregnancy Day 146: Apparently lifting, carrying and bending over to get things is pretty much out of the question now. I dropped two baskets of laundry all over the apartment in an effort to carry them to the basement today. I have no idea if 21 weeks (though I think I'm 22 now) is to early for such things but it is what it is I suppose.

Pregnancy Day 140: She can do somersaults now. It is some freaky ass shit, let me tell you. The entire time I just sit there wondering what will happen when she's bigger. Can she get stuck? Am I hurting her? Will she hurt me? Women have 9+ lb babies! On the upside, she also has cute little jabs and kicks that come in rhythms. Very "kick kick jab jab jab" I'm hereeee! Hii I can hear you now! (flip!)"

Pregnancy Day 135:

Welp. Don't I feel like an asshole. All that crap about "knowing" and "our sun"...sigh. Such an idiot. Obviously my subconscious knows more then I allow myself to believe because....

IT'S A GIRL!!

At least that's what the three lines tell us and since we didn't go to school for however long to study ultrasound technology, Alan and I took her word for it. We also took her word for it when she pointed out the kidneys and the liver and even showed us this foot the first time.By the end of the appointment I found myself shouting out body parts like a game of Pictionary. We were mostly wrong.

 

(That's her foot) 

Here is the good news: 
- We can start saying "she" instead of "it" or "the lil (insert fruit in terms of growth).
- She's already stubborn and refused to turn around and show her face. Just wanted to be left alone to nap.
- Everything looks good as far as they can tell. Great looking spine, head size and all ten fingers and toes (I think).
- I cried a little. ONLY A LITTLE! And instantly reassured my husband that he could indeed get a boy dog when the time comes.

There was some other news though: 
           My mother successfully had three children, that's obviously the important part, but they were not without complications. She has what's considered a incompetent cervix, a heart shaped uterus and when she had me the lining of the amniotic sack deteriorated. Before I get into that part, here's an awesome photo of us when my sister graduated last year to prove how even dire circumstances can be overcome (as far as the uterus goes - not my sister graduating, she's really smart haha).

(My brother and I are not twins, usually he looks more like my sister and doesn't have red hair)

Now everything that happened to me is not genetic. It was a rare fluke that may or may not be the result of poor medical care. Who really knows. At the end of the day my mother's uterus became a toxic waste land and I needed out. Even if it was three months early. Here I am today a relatively healthy 28 year old, so the odds can suck it. That being said, I was still nervous to see if the ultrasound would hold this:

(this was the best photo I could find, PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DO NOT TRY AND GOOGLE THIS ISSUE. I AM NOW TRAUMATIZED. HOLY FUCK GOOGLE)

Basically what happens is as the lining of the amniotic sack deteriorates, it wraps around the baby not unlike a shredded plastic bag might. Only these pieces are basically razor sharp and can result in very bad news. I got extremely EXTREMELY lucky.

As far as the heart shaped uterus (DON'T GOOGLE THAT EITHER!) goes, it looks very friendly and depending on the severity isn't always harmful. My siblings just had to chill like this for the most part:

 

Now back to ME! After I shared some of this family history with the ultrasound tech, she realized that I too might have a special shaped uterus (how fun!) so she called in a doctor. The doctor confirmed that I don't have one, but I do have an extra piece of tissue coming off my uterus. Alan tried to equate it to a cubical wall in an office building. My initial thoughts went something like "Umm? What? How? Why? Is it hurting the baby? Will it shred? Did birth control do this? How long has it been there? Can she grab onto it? Will it puncture the amniotic sack? Will she have smooshed parts because this "tissue" is in the way? WTF!?" but all that came out was "...OK..."

I tried to Google anything I could find that might help me better explain it here or to myself but nothing comes up. The doctor assured me that it shouldn't affect the baby or the delivery but that they'd monitor as time when on to be sure. He explained how hard it was to see now that I was pregnant, but also wasn't something they would ever see or know about when doing an annual pap smear. So how I was supposed to find out about this issue, I'll never know. They also never said anything seemed strange when we looked at it at my 7 week ultrasound. SO WHAT DOES THIS MEAN!?

It means we wait. We take the doctors word for it and get to see more video of our little girl moving around. You guys I'm (err we're!) having a baby girl and my emotions are about to be OUT OF CONTROL. Please buy my husband a beer when you see him around town. I already want to cry. It was as if a light blub went off and my hormones finally realized I have two vaginas (or one and 3 lines) so the tears and dopy happiness can come streaming out at anytime! I seriously can't wait to meet her. 

Pregnancy Day 134:

Today is the day!
Let's say it again.

TODAY IS THE DAY!

I just wanted to jot (err type) something down before the appointment because afterwards everything will be different. By 5pm we'll know how much the little mango has grown, if it's growing correctly and everything is in working order and of course we'll know the gender.

I imagine closing my eyes until the coast is clear and I know everything is ok. I imagine crying. I imagine the best case and some of the most ridiculous worst cases. This is just who I am. Last night I dreamed of raising a girl. One that looks like me or looks like herself since I don't even know what me really was/is "supposed" to look like. My mother I guess. I pictured it having my hair and Alan's face. I pictured pigtails and her saying "daddy." And then before I woke, I saw us eating the blue cupcake at the "reveal" tonight.

I think my subconscious (as it often does) is romanticizing again. The idea of a girl seems so fitting, but deep down I know it's a boy. Have since the first time I saw the tiny still sperm shaped creature on the monitor. That's my son. Our sun.

I guess we'll see.

I've been so excited about this particular appointment, now that it's here I realize what a strange balance it's created. We've come so far and yet there's still so much farther to go. Oh metaphors for life. Here we are finally being able to see what's going on in there but the lil mango still has 5ish more months to cook. It hasn't even reach my level of world entry yet. It's crazy to me that something that's grown so much in the last 4.5 months still has so much more growing to do. Can you tell I'm one of the most impatient people on the planet? I'm not at all implying that I'd want the baby to come out now...I'm just excited! I've never been ready for anything (that may or may not be a lie) but I am so ready for this life change. I can't even tell you how many times I lay in bed imaging our dynamic changing when we have a little one crawling in with us because of a nightmare. Alan and I have always taken great pride in know that we're and are perfectly functional without one another, but that together we are better. I have this same feeling about this baby and will likely have it again when we have a second one (much much further down the road of course).

Anyway...until 4pm. Fingers crossed!

Pregnancy Day 133:
This is pretty much what I've been humming all day:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yop62wQH498

I am beyond excited but also petrified. Pregnancy continues to run my emotions ragged. If you're reading this, keep your fingers crossed that everything is dandy.

And even if you're not, I still want to remember how nice it was to have so many people message me today just as excited as I am about ... say it again TOMORROW TOMORROW I LOVE YA TOMORROW!!!!

Pregnancy Day 132: The kicks are getting stronger. Instead of light bubbles it feels like soft jabs. Naturally I can only feel them when I'm sitting down and worried I might be smooshing it. It also has this pesky habit of stopping those little kicks whenever I try to put my hand there to feel them. Even now it seems baby has quite the sense of humor.

Pregnancy day 126: Had my arms full and dropped my keys on the side walk. Heavy sighing in their direction somehow didn't bring them back to my hands. It also didn't resonate through my apartment building to grab the attention of strangers so they‘d peer out their window and rush out to help me upon seeing my misfortune (I don‘t look nearly as pregnant enough as it is), so I sucked it up and bent down. It was as awkward as you can imagine.

Dare you to move...

It was different this time. Except...

That urge. That complete fearless impulse was still there.

When it was all over he hugged me for a long time. Then when we parted he took me by the shoulders, looked me square in the eyes and said "Be happy Lauren."

It's only been 10mins since he left and I can't remember if I said "you too" or "I will be" which just figures.

If I had said "I am" it would have ruined the moment and maybe I'm not. But maybe I am. So who am I actually fooling?

Makeup smakeup.

I can't deny that she's hot (aren't all Asian women?) but holy hell, this is why I fail at life and will continue to be ugly forever:

(seriously watch all of it)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LGzdj5bI29E&feature=related

That shit takes dedication! Did you see the way she even tucked in her first shirt!

I do like the tricks she does to highlight her cheeks to make her face longer and the white she applies to her nose to add shine though. Kinda neat.

Up hill...

So I've been trying to expand my photo portfolio. Here's some thoughts on my last shoot.

5 Things that Sucked

1. Finding a model that wasn't professional. While my intentions were good and I can't thank her enough for helping me. from a photographer standpoint and a "I don't know how to direct anyone" view, it didn't exactly work out how I hoped.
2. Being afraid to make her do what I wanted. For example I wanted the shoot to look more like this: (insert picture of girl being a cute spunky librarian type) but it turned out like this:

because she was uncomfortable doing what I suggested and I was unwilling to force the issue/make her step outside of her comfort zone. (I figured as long as she felt beautiful and was comfortable it didn't matter)
3. I pussed out for a large section of it and set my camera on auto. For SHAME.
4. Taking 100 photos isn't actually enough. Had I taken an extra few of this shot, I would have had one that wasn't blurry.

5. What seems cute, might actually look like a young porn star.

5 Things I Learned

1. The panic I felt about planning the whole thing to a "t" was not in vain. Next time I really need to come up with more concrete plans. Particularly set up a meeting before the shoot.
2. A few of my photos turned out very...flat and senior photo-y (this is obviously because I stuck it on auto (FOR SHAME)) but in the future I could use that to my advantage and consider doing senior photos for real.

3. Small talk/pretending to care is very important when engaging a model. I'm actually relatively good at making people laugh. Plus S is kind of awesome.
4. While it's good to let your model have some creative input, know that you can end up with photos like this:

5. I'm still really good at still life.

Overall though, S is beautiful and I can't wait to try and re-shoot her.

And so it goes...

As previously mentioned in an earlier post I don't have time to search for; I'm really into goal lists. Without even realizing it I had started my own tradition. Hurrah! Here is my 2012 list.

-Start a food journal in order to properly maintain the correct blood sugar levels.
-Learn to take the correct vitamins. (for reasons above)
-Seriously start working out at least once a week. (for reasons above)
-Improve/grow and start my own photography business
-Read all the books on my shelf that I bought with the best of intentions but didn't even start
-Get a photograph and story published
-Have a baby
-Be a blonde
-Find a place to settle down in.
-Never settle.
-Travel. Take road trips to the west country side and the upper east coast.
-Paint
-Remember how to be a kid again
-Stay happy
-Get a puppy
-Write more

Oops.

My husband is a very sensitive person.

He is the type of guy that spends longer in the bathroom doing his hair than I do. The type that cares more about his bicycle then hanging out with his friends. The type that actually turns off his video games when I ask and hates cheap beer and contact sports. He is sweet and soulful and clumsy and cried when his kitten died.

I think that’s what drew me to him in the first place. He had this hidden vulnerability that I’d been unable to tap into within my own personality.

When we first started getting serious we struggled with our roles. At least I did. His decision to become a chef changed us greatly. For months and months I begged him to participate in our relationship and participate in his life. I would clean and cook and do everything I could think of to please him. Even if it meant suppressing parts of what I thought made us (or me) special. I asked my friends for advice, I asked my parents, I asked him in the middle of the night while we held hands.

And then…I stopped caring so much. The stress was too much.

So I started living like a single girl in the middle of an engagement and well into our early stages of marriage.

Then there was another shift.

He started doing the dishes and our laundry and cleaning the bathroom and killing spiders and cooking dinner every night we were actual home at the same time. He never got mad or asked me where I’d been and why I hadn’t picked up the living room even if I’d been home for 6 hours. He’d even sit down and watched my stories with me. He never asked for my help, even if I tried too.

So I have to ask. Did I turn my husband into a woman or was he already one?

The sun and the moon

I've been watching the sun set for the last hour on this bazaaro totally welcome summer in March land we've been living in for the last week. Still I have no words.

Most of my inspiration has been stuck in photography lately. I fall asleep dreaming of new ideas and stay up late googling the competition.

I have two weeks until I turn in my application for grad school and even though I've been doing really well in school for the first time ever...I secretly hope I don't get in.

Alan's right. Most of my life gets put on the back burner when it's nice out.

I don't think it means anything. I'm just afraid of big things. Of certain movement. I over-think to a place where I barely register what an impulse is. I made the right choice leaving the bank and trying to go back to school. I took the right step if I ever want to find employment in any type of academic environment. I'm ok. I'm spoiled. I'm perfectly content lying on my new couch in shorts and a tank top with the door-wall open, listening to the birds sing.

At this moment I am happy. Happy with this apartment. Happy playing with my camera. Happy with my life. And even though this drastic weather patterned will probably change the tide and kills a bunch of sea life or plummet businesses dealing with winter jackets...I'm ok with that.

Ok. Ok. I'm not.

I need the winter to remind me to appreciate the warm sun, just like I know I need listlessness to remind me what enjoying my life feels like. So I know this total sense of ease I feel will need to pass too. I can't be laying around forever. I need a purpose.

So I completely hope I do get in.

Only time will tell and until then at least I found my camera love again.

(Last shot, NOT with my camera. Well with my camera phone...just a self portrait I did with a friend's Nikon.)

Last Year/This Year/Next Year?

(I found this on an old disk. Seemed fitting)

This is for you.

Once upon a time I used to be a writer. While the memories of my previous life appear a bit hazy now, I have dusty piles of paper and digital files still chained to me.

1 LiveJournal .

1 Xanga.

2 Blogspots.

2 dozen unfinished notebooks.

Countless scraps of paper and napkin scribbles.

Is the tread really worth continuing?

You could argue that I’ve always know exactly who I am and what my limitations were/are.

You could argue that in projecting that, I’ve also refused to move.

Call it panic, call it February in MI, call it whatever you want.

Haven’t I said all this before?

You could argue that I’ve never been and never will be completely content.

For a long time I’ve worried I was one of those wretched people that that could never be happy.

In the end, I’ve found I’m just as I always was; a cynical optimist.

“I gave up me to find you”

It was worth it. He is there every day reminding me I’ve exceeded my own expectations.

Too much support. Not enough demand. The majority of the people I find myself surrounded by are the ones I idolize.

You could argue that I’m too harsh, too mean or too curt.

They are there to remind me I am only human and I am there to remind them to find a focus in their dreams.

You could argue I’m coming off pompous.

Quiet.

Conversations with a tipsy wife...

Wife: (staring at her warm crescent roll) I think they're going to hate me in Italy.
Husband: Why?
Wife: (takes giant bite of roll) ...because I like butter. A lot.
Husband: They'll love you in France and love me in Italy. It'll be a fun change of pace.
Wife: They'll hate us no matter what in Germany.
Husband: They'll love me.
Wife: Why? Because you look like Ralph from the Sound of Music?
Husband: ...that was set in Austria.
Wife: He was a Nazi.

Chef wife, Chef life? Being a chef's wife doesn't define me.

I have an essay due by midnight and my eyes already hurt from staring at this screen for the last few hours but I've been meaning to write on this for a while and the current tab I'd love to close offers some good prompts.

Also, I really enjoy procrastinating. Like a lot.

It's not news that I'm married to a chef. (Unless of course you're a new reader, which "HI I'M MARRIED TO A CHEF (and most of the time it sucks)!") When I was first drafting the idea of starting a blog again, I considered making it strictly chef wife oriented. Something to appease the masses of women struggling with the daily battle of being in love with someone in the restaurant industry. Or more importantly being in love with someone that seems to love something else so much more then them. And that right there is why I didn't create a blog based on that theme. At the end of the day, it's not something that makes me any more or less special then anyone else. Every single person in a relationship feels the way I do at some time or another. The only difference is I don't just feel it sometimes, I have to fight with it always.

Boo hoo. Your significate other has a job? How terrible. (Note sarcasm)

For me it has never been about his career choice, it is about how he handles it and our relationship.

So when I stumbled on a "Married to a Chef" forum with a short questionnaire on how wives handle it...I thought it might be fun to avoid my responsibilities and fill it out to prove to others and myself that it's not really as bad as it seems. Or at the very least doesn't have to be.

(Side Notes: When I met my husband, he was not a chef. He wasn't even in the resturant industry at all. I had been for years. It was something he fell into just before we got engaged. He has progressed from pantry cook to sous chef in under 2 years. I consider myself incredibly lucky for that piece of time before his schedule and choices took over my life. I honestly don't know how or why chefs date to marry. The industry is notorious for it's bad relationship reputation. They work long hours, they work holidays and it is a lifestyle full of addiction and loneliness. It's like being on another planet and every level within the industry offers different advantages and disadvantages.)

I digress, moving on -

How long did it take before you figured out that you’d be going to bed alone? Night after night?

That was something that rarely happened in the beginning. I could stay up late and he used to come home before 2am. In fact over the last 4 years together, we have only ever spent a total of 12 days not falling asleep or waking up next to each other. When I had to get up early for work, he would always call before I fell asleep and I'd leave him notes to wake up to in the morning.

That you’d be going to family functions/work functions (company Christmas party) by yourself? How do you deal with that?

I am very strange and I enjoy being alone and compartmentalizing my friends into categories and get uncomfortable when they mix. Not having him around at every function gives me the leeway to be me and not have to worry about if he's having fun or socializing or being rude or whatever. I can just relax. That being said, I've also learn to pick my battles when it comes to important events like weddings or particular family things I really need/want him at. I tend to make sure he has a month notice and then put my foot down or hide his phone.

It was a strange adjustment just after we got married and everyone would ask where he was and I always had to say "oh he's at work" every single time. Eventually people stopped asking. To me this is better then having to say "Oh he just didn't want to come" or "he was being particularly shitty today so I made him stay home" or "Omg I know it's a girls night but we just can't stand being apart, can I bring the hubs?!" or generally sitting around not doing anything because he's not with me.


Not to mention the partying it up until the morning hours? Dare I say, Drugs/Alcohol/Infidelity?

This is one of the questions that sort of shocked me, for the simple fact that it shouldn't be an issue at all. And if it is, please get out of that relationship immediately. Seriously. And I'm only speaking in regards to the "partying up until the morning hours" section at the moment.

If your significant other doesn't want to come home to see the person he "loves" because he wants to spend even more time with people he sees all the time...THAT IS NOT OK.

If he/she needs to consume large amounts of alcohol or drugs just to get through his work day...THAT IS NOT OK.

If he's cheating, because he's too lazy/distracted to come home to his own wife and have sex...THAT IS NOT OK.

I'd be more interested to address how the ones left home handle it. I'm horrible with alcohol and terrified of drugs and did once get myself into a situation where I wouldn't have felt guilty for cheating. What I learned from that was how little it had to do with his job and how much more it had to do with us. We were not ok and I needed something from him he was no longer giving. Simple engagement with his life and with our life together. Being a chef doesn't give you an excuse to be an asshole.

What do you tell your friends, who aren’t in this type of relationship… how you ‘make it work’ when you’re never with your other half and are always available to hang out?

It IS weird to be in a relationship but still somehow always end up a third wheel or to develop friendships with the opposite sex that are more prominent then the one with your partner. It is unfortunately a side effect of the career though. Most of my friends don't mind or are very good at hiding it. I've also learned that being married to a chef means you need a new emergency contact. So it's good to have friends.

And YOUR dreams.. how do you handle making YOUR dreams come true when they work 60-80 hours a week?

This is something I'm just learning to answer now. So unfortunately I don't have anything concrete to say. If anything I will suggest that communication is the key and that you can't be afraid to stand up and go for what you want. Also having super supportive and encouraging friends is powerful thing. I think my resistance to taking my own advice is because I've been afraid that I'd end up leaving him in the dust or ashamed that I might be married to someone that wouldn't care whether or not he was part of my journey to my dreams. On a positive side, his schedule also means he's not getting in your way.

Having to start your holiday vacation at 11pm at night (or later!) when they get off?

Um...we only vacation together when he's actually on vacation. I'm not sure what's wrong with getting on a flight at night and waking up in the morning somewhere new?

The times when, after the restaurant closes, you’re excited for them to come home and they call to say their going out for a few beers.

This...is not ok. In the beginning, Alan and I spent a large chunk of time arguing about this topic. To me, he sees these people 90% of his work week and me only 10%. If he wants to drink late, he can come home and drink next to my sleeping body and read a book or something OR come home and hang out OR just NO. NO THIS IS NOT OK. I'm mad just typing about it. Haha.

Thankfully, we have made large adjustments and strides and compromises since then.

If you knew that you’d be the only person raising your children while they’re working crazy hours, would you do it again?

I don't have children yet but I am impressed by the chef wives that do. It can't be easy essentially being a single parent. And I think that's why I let Alan do as much as he wants now, because later I'm not going to be that person that tells myself he can't be bothered or can't leave work or that some guest is more important then a sick kid or kindergarten graduation.


My advice for future chef significant others is this: What makes their job so much more important then their life? Then your life? Then the life you want to build together? It is just a job and you never know, one day he might come home just as exhausted by the situation and decide to start over.

Old friends. Old feelings. Old me...(part 2)

(continued...)

Rick: Hanging with me and his sister at my graduation party (2002) and hanging with Brandon and Amy last month (2011).


Tim: Fist pumping (2001) and chilling with Amy, Brandon Katie, Jon and I (2010).


Amy: Sharing secrets with Kristin (2005) and smiling for my birthday (2010).


Brandon: Doing our best catatonic faces (2001) and our super awkward lean smiles (2009).



Alex: At his wedding with Rick (2008) and chilling last month (2011).

Over the last twelve years we've grown together, fell in love with one another, lied to each other, cheered each other on, harbored long time crushes, laugh till we cried, hurt one another, broken up with each other, picked each other back up, said goodbye, said hello again, moved in with each other, written letters, seen each other in different time zones, supported each other, slept with and comforted one another, watch each other exchange vows and have babies. And most recently though not unexpected, drifted apart in a way where we hardly recognized one another.

Then of course there are those rare moments (when we are in the same room) where we catch eyes across the room and smile politely and briefly wonder what would've happened if we'd chosen each other instead. Then again that's probably just me.

My dad's friend of 30 plus years has been living in their basement for the last year and recently I found him down there among stacks and stack of photographs trying to scan them all onto a hard-drive. He guestimated about 250 photo albums and 500,000 photographs easy. Honest I'm not exaggerating. Anyway, first I found myself suddenly thankful for the digital age and then I started asking him why he wasn't throwing more away. (A few years before I found my mom had doing this same thing, only she had trashed hundreds of photos from weddings where the couples had been divorced for over 20 years.) Surely Stacey could part with random photos of motorcycles or car parts. He said he didn't want to. He said that every photograph was a piece of his memory and that was the one thing he didn't want to lose.

So here's to friends and photographs.