Well, this year was probably the most chaotic and fun.
I traveled.
I quit my job.
I moved.
I got a new job.
I fell in love.
I got my heart broken.
While we are all saying goodbye to the past year, I’d like to add a big “Thank you, 2022.” You taught me to be more resilient, more joyful, and more trusting not only of myself but with others. In the new year, I vow to make more my daily actions more impactful for myself and my friends and family.
The past two months have been spent getting familiar with a new rhythm of life — the new job, developing and maintaining relationships, and the balance of it all!
I’ve not had time to find the time for writing. I vow to make the time next month.
Ahhh September. The word alone conjures up visions of penny loafers, newly sharpened pencils, and contact paper. In other words, a fresh start.
A fresh start for parents, teachers, school aged kids, and me.
This month I am beginning a new adventure. A brand new job. So in a way I will be joining the ranks of school-aged children in getting ready for a life shift.
I haven’t had a new, clean slate start in a long time. I am simultaneously so excited and nervous.
Any new start requires a lot of introspection and self examination (Jesuit values, just don’t quit), a process I am going through right now. I went through a physical examination with the move, purging unwanted items. Now I am doing that with thoughts and emotions, keeping what serves me and getting rid of what no longer serves me.
Editors Note
Boy, am I glad I waited until Mercury was out of retrograde to finish writing this post. Much has transpired.
Yes, I did start my new job and I am extremely excited to learn and grow as a professional in this new setting.
The labor union representing the employees at my organization is currently on strike. I could not in good conscious cross the picket line knowing my colleagues are fighting for equitable pay and health care. I have joined my union members in a strike. I am incredibly honored to be a member of the union and stand should to shoulder with my colleagues for a fair contract, pay, and benefits.
While this is not how I imagined my first few weeks going, I am still excited and will keep all 4 readers of this blog posted— ha!
Well the “dog days” have come to an official close. Dunkin has begun selling pumpkin spiced coffee, the leaves will soon fall to the ground, and my ten years in Washington, DC will come to an end.
Being dropped off as a freshman, I was so eager to start my adult-grown up life. What a joke.
Luckily, I wasn’t alone. Most of my classmates didn’t know how to be adults yet either. We became friends in this magical bubble of campus. The next four years flew by and we were told, “The party is over. You don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here.”
I thought the world was over. This bubble had been out home for the last four years and what was I going to do on the flip-side of graduation.
Well the flip-side brought me back to Washington, DC and I lucked out because a fair amount of friends also stayed in the area.
As we navigated credit card debt and paying school loans, we fostered a great sense of togetherness. And I thought this is the magic of the DC. We were all close in college and we were continuing to be close because we lived in the same area code.
A decade after moving into college, I can definitely say its not the city that makes and holds the friends. It’s the friends that make the city home. Friends who visit you make you see the city in a different light. Friends you work with introduce you to new neighborhoods. Friends who live down the street make surprise visits when you are feeling down.
Although my time in Washington, DC has come to a close, I know that my friendships are not tied to this location. Friendship travels many distances. No matter the distance, these friends are made to endure. My friendships are my home and that is where my heart will be on my next stop… Philadelphia.
After two years, it finally happened. It was only a matter of time… I caught COVID. Thankfully, my symptoms are mild and I will be out of quarantine soon.
It’s so weird to face something you’ve been trying to actively avoid for so long. To face your fear and deal with it head-on.
A fear I’ve been slowly trying to overcome is the unknown. The unknown related to the future. I made a particular big leap that puts me in fUNemployment. I don’t know what my next career move is today. Yet I move forward with the knowledge that this choice is the right option for me.
Tomorrow will always be better, filled with more hope.
Last year I didn’t even write a blog for May. So this entry is not a big deal only a little deal in the grand scheme of the past twelve months.
If you’ve made it to the second to last day of May and you’ve yet to hear the words “mental health awareness month,” well you must live under a rock— hell, you might even be a rock.
For the rocks reading this entry, mental health awareness month is filled with good intentions to educate, erase stigmas, and provide support with those suffering, often silently.
My good intention for this blog is to provide the thought to others that they aren’t alone. My friends, family, and myself have all suffered from terrible thoughts that hang overhead like storm clouds for days or pass through on a moments notice. My promise to myself every night before I close my eyes is a simple phrase. “Tomorrow will be better.”
The past 30 days have been filled with finding the happiness in the moments between worry and sadness.
At the moment, more happy outweighs the sad for which is all I can hope.
April was not great. Not enough time for the things and people about whom I care.
Tomorrow, next week, next month will be better.
Getting this post up just in time.
March is a really tough month for me. I’m not sure what it is, every year like clockwork I find it difficult to be active—getting out of bed, meeting up with friends, cleaning apartment etc.
This year was particularly worse seeing my loved ones hurting more than me.
Grieving the loss of loved ones is never easy. Seeing others suffer with a grief more — I don’t want to say deserved but more — pronounced is truly horrible. As a self-proclaimed empath, taking on those deep feelings of heartbreak is difficult. I wish I could wipe away the pain of their loss and fill them with only good memories.
Grief is consuming. My hope is that they don’t become all-consuming for me or my loved ones.
♥ JME ♥ KTF ♥
I often find solace in music whether it be happy or sad. There is a wonderful knowing someone has experienced the exact same thing as you and turned it into a piece of art that you can go back to any time.
This month’s musing may seem somber but it provided a great amount of amusement listing to the lyrics and I’ll be damned if its not a catchy AF tune.
Please enjoy “Numb Little Bug” by Em Beihold.
*Editor’s Note: This post sat in my drafts for over a month. Oops.
I really don’t remember how it happened but a new year is here, again. A new year. F@&k.
I remember thinking at the end of 2020, “Phew, well thank God that horrible year is over.” Boy, was I wrong. 2021 was so difficult. Now the Universe is giving us a whole new, unknown, variant-ridden beast to deal with? WTF.
Last year I loftily spoke of Janus, the Roman god of gates and doors, and resolutions to fill the year. What a fool I was. Not to say I didn’t achieve those goals or continue working on them after trials and tribulations but I feel so unemotional or maybe over-emotional these days.
So I’ll start with something small: finding the spice of life. The magical moments, places, and people that make me happy.
Finally, I leave you, dear singular reader, with a picture of Midhope Castle in Scotland. Why this particular castle? Two reasons. 1— It’s Lallybroch in Outlander which is a source of joy. 2— Midhope is all I can muster at the beginning of this year.
I had a bunch of different ideas for my grand return to the blog-world which I will save for another time.
So the past five months have been weird. For the first time in my life, I had a stark realization that I am indeed getting older and change happens slow and fast.
As the leaves change and the autumnal equinox approaches, there is a sadness that summer is over and you have to get back to the real world… and all it’s problems which this year seem insurmountable.
The weird that happened over the last five months have been filled with constant feelings of inadequacy, despair that we will never be through this pandemic, and an overwhelming sense of dread about it eventually being “normal” again.
It’s only Tuesday as I write this and I’ve been on the verge of tears in multiple meetings this week and for no good reason. Well for one good reason, the world is re-opening too fast, too soon, and I, personally, am very overwhelmed with the whole process.
Due to this whole global pandemic, I’m overwhelmed in the United States and not whelmed in Europe. The amount of self-care that is going to crammed into this upcoming weekend is going to be ridiculous. All to undone by the next week, a vicious cycle.
The eternal search for the balance among one’s personal, professional, and pampered lives continues. Stay tuned.
Spent the months languishing and drinking iced coffee.
My family lost our patriarch, John M. Elliott, suddenly last week.
In the days since his passing, our large, loud Irish clan is boisterously and constantly sharing stories of the beloved husband, father, brother, uncle, and grandfather.
Here is my mere mortal attempt at finding the words to describe the man who was so full of life.
Uncle John made our family history a focal point in all of our lives. Constantly searching for missing pieces of our family’s journey from Ireland to America. Our family historian. These efforts will be doubled in his honor from the appreciation of our roots he instilled in us.
A skilled lawyer, Uncle John was wickedly smart and crafted arguments and briefs with precision. Coal miner’s blood in his veins, he fought tirelessly for workers and for the wrongfully accused. He won a posthumous pardon for Jack Kehoe, a member of the Molly Maguires hanged in 1878.
He did so much with his time on this earth, giving his time and talent to those he loved and respected.
Uncle John was generous with his time, although not always punctual. He was constantly snail-mailing relevant newspaper clippings, photos, and postcards from his many travels I think he single-handedly saved the USPS.
Every weekend was filled to the brim with his grandchildren’s sporting events. With camera in hand, he was every team’s unofficial photographer. Printing photos for other players and their families. And providing our family with innumerable memories preserved eternally.
All hours of the day, he was on the phone. Calling you to ask what the Yankees score was or telling you a joke while laughing through the punchline or notifying you a John Wayne movie was showing.
His iconic ringtone, the Notre Dame fight song, was one for the ages. I vividly remember sitting in mass one Sunday and hearing the Notre Dame Marching Band start up from the opposite side of the church. I saw a Hawaiian shirt swiftly get up from the pew and answer “Aloha” as the door swung behind him.
I read the word aloha in his voice. Always will. Unsure of how this became his signature greeting but it’s seems appropriate to close out these thoughts. Aloha is the Hawaiian way of treating each other with love and respect. Aloha is so much more than a greeting or parting, it’s a way of life. Uncle John was so much more than the words used above to describe him. It’s like he knew all along.
Aloha.
Mercury is finally out of retrograde but 2021 hasn’t stopped messing with us.
Every Twitter scroll brings more bad news. More exhausting information to drain our body and soul of energy.
So in a world of effed up news. I am sharing little bits of sunshine in my life.
Luckily in the northeast United States, we’ve been blessed with a winter wonderland. Meaning beautiful walks. Snow changes a landscape entirely. Making a drab skeleton tree transform into a plump cupcake. A snowfall transform a scene and rejuvenates the spirit.
With a resolution to not shop as much, I need something to fill my empty hours of quarantine and that is stalking properties on Zillow. If you missed SNL’s “Zillow” sketch, I highly recommend. Now, I am not actively looking to buy property but its beyond satisfying to click through listings.
I feel like I have watched everything on Netflix, Hulu, and Amazon Prime. So I am actually enjoying the commercials that were once passé. And every gosh darn time, the Progressive “Becoming Your Parents” series pops up, I cackle.
Apparently appointment television is back because we have nothing else to fill our calendars. My calendar is filled with shows to watch on certain nights which helps a tiny sense of time passing and I’m not living in a Groundhog Day situation. Might I recommend a show to watch? Stanley Tucci: Searching for Italy. An hour filled with beautiful scenes we can only dream of visit until this COVID nightmare is past us. One friend described the opening minutes (!!) perfectly, “It’s like a warm hug.” And you know what we could all use one of those right now.
If you remember my January post, I’ve tried to reign in buying new items. So far so good but I’ve turned the tables and began selling unwanted stuff. Not too many sales so far but hoping for strong sales numbers in the spring. Gives me a jolt of dopamine when that sale is completed.
Not really a power post here. Next month will be better.
Why do we make New Year’s resolutions?
Janus, the ancient Roman god, was imagined by the Romans as two-faced: one backward facing and one forward facing. As the guardian of beginnings and endings, Janus is the perfect muse for this mid-monthly prose.
With the dumpster fire of 2020 firmly in the rearview mirror, 2021 is the year of hopefulness even though the first few days of the year weren’t so hot but I digress! A vaccine beginning to be distributed across the world, a new administration ready to right the USS America, and a full year of mid-month musings to look forward to from yours truly.
I have made resolutions that I hope honor Janus and his two-facedness.
Abstain from drinking. Usually Friday night meant red wine and pizza. Looking back that glass or two left me sleeping late, feeling groggy, and not motivated to do anything on Saturday. Even during quarantine while not much is getting done, I want to ~feel~ as though I am getting stuff done.
Turn yeahs into yeses. If you know me, you know I love movies and something that constantly flashes through my head is Gracie Lou Freebush aka Sandra Bullock being schooled by Kathy Morningside (Candice Bergen) on the proper affirmative. “It’s always ‘Yes'. Never ‘yeah.’” Channeling my inner HRH on this resolution.
Think more sustainability. Everyone began Marie Kondo-ing and The Home Edit-ing their apartments, condos, and homes when the world stopped last spring. I, too, fell in love with the euphoria of donating bags of clothing and color coding books. Now with that empty closet space, I need to resist the urge to buy stuff that I will throw out in 3 years. I am vowing to buy more second-hand items and to choose quality over quantity.
Connect with friends more frequently. The past year physically severed me from friends and family. I am determined more than ever to reach out to friends and family more regularly whether it be with check-in texts, FaceTimes, or socially-distanced gatherings. I will not let another year keep me from my friends and family.
Improve splits. This resolution may sound silly but I am super jazzed to work on my flexibility. Every day, I look forward to the series of stretches provided by a Google search, of course. Seeing a tangible outcome will motivate me to continue!
I am putting these resolutions in a public arena to keep myself accountable. In December, I can check back to pull a Janus to look backward then forward to the growth I still have to do.
How the heck is it Christmas already? Apologies for the lack of mid-month musing. But hey, it’s happening now.
[Maeve sitting in front of the tree, a cup of tea, and Harry Connick Jr.’s soothing voice in the background]
What do you do when your heart can’t find Christmas?
Christmas season ushers in happy thoughts of sugarplum fairies. Except this year, it seems to be in step with the phrase of the year— “unprecedented times.” Zoom celebrations and parties put on hold until next year while the same amount of alcohol and cookies are purchased.
Yes, the tree is trimmed, decorations adorn the house and provide a fleeting flit of happiness but that feeling is all too temporary. During this unprecedented time when everything is topsy-turvy, how can we find what makes Christmas feel like Christmas from afar?
Reach out to me. How did you fare this holiday season? Are you okay?
I really have Harry Connick Jr. and his impeccable holiday album to thank for this post.
Not quite mid-month. Here we go.
If you ever need to feel your feelings, boy do I have the spot for you! Spotify “Chill HIts” playlist. The playlist that knows exactly what you need before you do.
Now, I am not the most creative person when it comes to music—seriously, take me for my word and my Spotify history. Relying on the playlists pre-curated to precisely my mood is a creative weight off my shoulders.
Back to “Chill HIts.” In between Taylor Swift and JP Saxe songs, a new song stopped me in my tracks. “IDK You Yet” by Alexander 23. As the pandemic seems closes in around us for the winter months, it struck me right in my heart. Whether it was the line about knowing how your love takes his coffee or how can you miss someone you never met but I love this song. Not on repeat because that wouldn’t be healthy for me but as medicine prescribed when I feel a certain way.
The song is beautiful, listen if you want to feel.
Alexander 23 - IDK You Yet How can you miss someone you've never met? Watch official video now: https://smarturl.it/idkyouyetvideo Listen: https://smarturl.i...
Favorite image of the month | November 2020
Every month, even every day ushers in a new national observance that allows us a free cup of coffee (thanks, Dunkin) or free whatever. October boasts a long list of monthly titles— National American Cheese Month, Adopt a Shelter Dog Month, and of course the always observed Bat Appreciation Month. Looking at this list, an observance struck a cord with me— Emotional Wellness Month.
Recently, I returned away from a weekend with friends where we caught up, did not catch COVID-19, and imbibed some drinks. A topic of conversation was seasonal affective disorder and how we can all combat the long winter ahead of seeing fewer friends and relatives. An FDA lamp was deemed the most appropriate and was obviously immediately purchased.
Descending into the physical darkness of winter, some decisions haunt me. Maybe it’s the month of October and the official start of spooky season. The haunting is the ending of a friendship. I guess this is my first cut and dry break-up with a friend— a fri-ending as it were. This fri-ending was probably a long time coming but even knowing that doesn’t lessen the pain and heartache that will fill the darkness of the impending winter.
As a child, your friendships are dictated by your guardians and location — school, playgrounds, and mandated sports.
Now as an adult, friendships are chosen, sought, and worked on because you mutually deem the exercise worthy. Work and effort is put forward by both sides. No longer are friendships dictated by your circumstances. Friendships are determined by your decisions and actions. In the case mentioned above, our friendship was full of laughter, tears, and memories together but it didn’t seem worthy by either of our actions. Hangs rescheduled, texts and calls left unanswered and unreturned. It all began to hurt too much.
During this month of Emotional Wellness, I will begin using the FDA approved light to combat SAD and begin to consider my hauntings… and my blessings.
This specific post was centered around the idea of using items of clothing— facemasks, hats, dresses, and shoes— to inspire and urge citizens around the country to vote. Then the tragic news of Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s passing arrived and made me rethink how to approach this entry.
The intersection of politics and fashion is a fairly new trend that began with the shrinking of the world with the boom of the internet. Before that, women wore clothes that looked good and may have possessed meaning but the vast majority of people never knew —or maybe didn’t care to know because women were purely ornamental?—the truth behind the layers of tweed, cotton, leather., etc. The increase of people clamoring for the exact brand of necklace or facemask adorned by a female politician is a direct result of women being elected to government.
In the month of September, well-known women around the country have been using their influence and celebrity to make a simple statement: VOTE. Dr. Jill Biden wore Stuart Weitzman shoes emblazoned with “VOTE” on the boot shaft when she cast her vote for the Delaware state primary. Diane Keaton walked the streets donning a hat that stated “Vote bitches” knowing paparazzi will capture and disseminate the image widely. Designers are using the catwalks of a virtual Fashion Month to encourage voters across the country. And finally if anyone is to inspire the potential voters it is the looming memory of Ruth Bader Ginsburg. In addition to her judicial robes, she added the flourish of an intricate neck piece. An simple accessory made unforgettable by an icon. These women, not all politicians, are forging a path to promote civics and patriotism in their fashion choices.
The United States is now in a descending to the final days of the presidential election cycle. With R.B.G.’s passing, it adds another layer to the importance of voting on November 3rd. The future of the highest rulings in the land, a woman’s right to choose, the fate of immigrants in the U.S., and the safety of all citizens rest on the outcome of this election.
So please vote.
