So Long...Farewell...

You knew it was coming! My requisite "New Years" post. Hold on tight!

2011 has been full of wonderful gifts, as well as the sting of disappointment...and I am thankful for it all. I have laughed and cried; whispered and yelled; skipped and stomped. My life has been turned upside-down and right-side-up. I witnessed the arrival of new life, and growth of that life. This year, my heart was stolen, broken, stomped on, teased, used, fixed and filled. I went on my first date in 10 years. I entertained second-chances and subsequently came to my senses. I took chances. I stood up. I sat down. I tied a yellow ribbon. I have made friends and enemies. I have disappointed and surprised myself. I have been disappointed and surprised by others. I have felt fear, and confidence...sometimes in the same instance. I have been overwhelmed, and underwhelmed. I sang in front of people. I changed my mind. "I held firmly to what I felt was right." I became a little more of the "me" I've always wanted to be. I found a mouse in my car, and a spider in my bed. I felt the all-consuming warmth of unconditional love. I lost weight. I gained weight. I lost some more weight. I have had blonde hair, brown hair, purple hair and green hair. I went to a party without makeup on, my hair done, and without changing out of my bathing suit. I talked Penny into jumping off the diving board on her birthday. I formed an even stronger bond this summer with an amazing group of ladies. I let go of my inhibitions. I broke a few pieces off that wall I constructed so very long ago. I apologized, I accused, I forgave and was humbled. I've bitten my tongue and let it fly free. I floated and hiked. I realized that old habits die hard...and new ones die harder. I am left only to assume that future habits die hard with a vengeance. This year, I actually had the following words spoken to me "You have to come back, the Amish drove their buggy up into the yard and their horse is eating the grass". I found myself knowing too much...and knowing too little. I swallowed my pride...and a few tears. I drank a lot of beer...a lot.

As this year draws to a close in a few days, I find myself on the road toward forgiveness, and acceptance. I anticipate new arrivals and new additions. I look forward to transitions and homecomings. I long for reunions and I dread goodbyes. I am ready for new adventures and the return of some old routines. I want to hold onto traditions and start some new ones. I plan to take steps toward becoming the writer I've always dreamed I would be. I will shrink out of the smallest available size at Lane Bryant. Maybe I'll even go on another date this year.

I don't really like to make "resolutions", I like to make generalized goals for myself. I find with this method, the pressure is off...or at the very least diminished. This year, I decided to take more chances, and overcome fears. I think I succeeded in many ways.  

So long, 2011. 2012 is a new year and the same Lindsey...just much much better.

A Love Letter...

Dear Loves,

Christmas is a time to celebrate the people we love. We give them things, wrapped in pretty paper, with shiny bows on top. This tradition is exercised in an attempt to show our loved ones we love them, and those we appreciate the extent of our appreciation. For some, the desire to give all they are capable of giving proves a bit overwhelming. Others aren't capable of giving all they wish to give. This year, I am among the latter. Now, next year might be better...and next year might be worse, but I do know one thing is certain: my love and appreciation for the gifts I have been given in my life will not subside. It will not waver. It will not disappear.

So, to all of you...my family, my friends, my employers and coworkers, my readers, people from my past, people in my present, and people for my future:

I love you all in one way or another. Some I love a lot, some a little. Some of you I love for being there for me, and some I love for your absence in my life and for showing me the kind of person I should NOT love. No matter the category in which you belong, I love you...as much as a lot, and as little as a smidgen.

I love you for being a part of my world, and for supporting me in my endeavors and dreams...no matter how unattainable they may seem. I love you for knowing when I need an ear...and a shoulder. I love you for understanding that I have a tendency to be self-centered, and for knowing that I'll realize I am needed...even if the realization does not come immediately. I love you for allowing me to freak out about tiny, insignificant things and feigning agreement that said things warrant my irrational response. I love you for showing me I have so much yet to learn. I love you for loving me, for trusting me, and for respecting me. "I love...I love...I love you."

For without you, I would be nothing. A person must always strive to be unique and original, but the seasoning...the spice...the frosting...is composed of the people surrounding them. Each one of you has affected my life in a different way. Some of you are no longer in my life, and some of you are a smaller part of it, but because of you, my heart is bigger. I am wiser. I am whole. I am more informed. I am more intelligent. I am more well-rounded. I am fatter AND thinner. I am simply happier, more grateful, and appreciative.

One who is loved possesses everything they will ever need. All the resources required for a meaningful life are present and accounted for. Anytime I'm down, or out, or sad...I never forget that I love you. I never forget you love me. At times, I think I know best, but more often than not, I end up wishing I had yielded your advice. You always let me make my mistakes without saying "I told you so", and if you do, you manage to do it without making me feel more foolish than I already feel.

I may be monetarily poor, but in the most important aspects of my life, I am so very rich. Thank you, my loves, for making my life mean something.

Wishing a very Merry Christmas to each and every one of you,              

Lindsey "Stuff"el        

Believe In What You Can't See...

"Yes, VIRGINIA, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no VIRGINIAS. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished."

When I was little, Christmas held true magic...as it does for most children. Even after learning the truth about Santa Claus, that magic remained. I continued to believe in the idea of him...I still believe in the idea of him. Knowing something doesn't exist, as something you can reach out and touch, does not mean it's not real. When my parents broke the news to me, the oldest child with two younger sisters who still very much believed, it was the first year in a long time I was almost desperate for him to be real. For several years prior I had been skeptical, as many children become once they begin school. However, even after learning that it was my mom and dad, not a magical man who came down a chimney we didn't even have, placing those gifts under the tree while we were asleep each Christmas Eve, I never really stopped believing in Santa Claus...because as it turned out, he just looks different than he does in his pictures.

"Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that's no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world."

For me, Christmas isn't about the gifts...though I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy receiving them and I absolutely LOVE giving them. It's about the smell of pine trees. The sound of Judy Garland singing "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" and Nat King Cole singing "The Christmas Song". It is the welcoming glow of the lights on my tree illuminating my little home in the evening. Laughing with friends and reminiscing with my family. Watching the little kids joyfully unwrapping toys and the disappointed look on their face when they are handed a box that very obviously contains clothes. The sight of our stockings lined up in front of the fireplace at Grandma's and the sound of the orange Tic Tacs rattling as we carry them into the family room. It's Rudolph, The Grinch, Frosty and Buddy the Elf. It's standing up and refusing to go to Midnight Mass each year, only to feel guilty for succeeding in my refusal, and watching it on television anyway.

"You may tear apart the baby's rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart. Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, VIRGINIA, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding."

As we grow, everything in our lives will undoubtedly adapt to the changes. I no longer get butterflies in my stomach on Christmas Eve, and I no longer have trouble sleeping through the night. Now I look forward to breakfast with my family on Christmas morning, and buying gifts for my nephew. I still get excited for my stocking from Grandma, though. Some things never change.

"No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood."

Empty Orchestra

The other day, I was thinking of all the reasons I have come to remain single well into my 30's. There are, of course, several factors, decisions, choices and mistakes which have contributed to my marital status. Aside from the occasional "I'm going to die alone" panic attacks, I feel comfortable saying that it has mostly been a choice on my part. I'm just not ready yet...oh, and also there are all those home videos Grandpa Dale has stored away. The ones of me in my really annoying phase...where I'm hogging the camera and making stupid faces. My Grandma Mary used to threaten "Just wait until you're older and have a boyfriend over".

Well, I got older...as most people do...and I had a boyfriend over for a holiday dinner...once.

My grandpa videotaped our arrival and the duration of our stay anytime we came over, but the best (a/k/a most embarrassing for me) were the Christmas movies. We also have an infamous clip of my cousin, Lyle, and myself playing Super Mario Brothers. The dialogue from which still haunts me to this day, and a tape that will meet the business end of a flame if I ever manage to get my hands on it.

Now, where was I?

Oh yes, Christmas home movies and their correlation to my desire to stay single for the sole purpose of never having anybody to show them to...

They all start off innocently enough. Grandpa with the camera focused on Grandma while she asks him over and over if he's recording. In fact, I enjoy this part. Grandma hates to be on camera...and Grandpa knows it. I absolutely love the realization that crosses her face when she sees the camera pointed in her direction, and the simultaneous look of annoyance as she crossly says "Dale". It is an impersonation all of us kids have managed to perfect over the years.

After the "testing the camera" portion, the families arrrive. All of us still drunk from an overabundance of presents we had received just hours earlier, our eyes glazed from an inability to sleep the night before due to overexcitement, and indentations from the wrapping paper still apparent on our cheeks where we had passed out on top of a pile of it after tearing into our many gifts. I'm always wearing an outfit I got from Santa. How that guy always knew my size is beyond me, and looking back, I wonder what the hell kind of fashion magazine the guy was reading...but I'm sure back then it was all very stylish. I enter my grandparent's home and look straight at the camera. Immediately I have my face, eyes crossed and tongue sticking out, right up to the lense, speaking some kind of gibberish. Yeah, once is kind of cute, but my poor Grandpa couldn't get away from me. Just thinking of it makes me cringe.

So, there you have it. The moment I realized I wasn't all that cute or endearing, was the moment I decided I would just avoid ever having to take a boyfriend to my grandparent's house in the first place. Drastic and/or irrational? Perhaps...especially given my recent affinity for karaoke, but then again most of you have not seen these videos...and those of you that have, would surely agree that I have made a wise decision.

It's the most wonderful time of the year...