tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-97078902024-03-12T21:52:25.849-05:00Daughter of Opinion"How do I know what I think until I see what I say?" - E.M. ForsterJessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11464465779161315273noreply@blogger.comBlogger323125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9707890.post-57662007195603541012012-09-16T14:49:00.000-05:002012-09-17T19:39:48.488-05:00One Year LaterOne of the most popular hikes in the Canadian Rockies is near Lake Louise, Alberta. Situated in Banff National Park, this forested trail through grizzly habitat offers more than two miles of incline and three spectacular lakes - Louise, Mirror and Agnes; the latter of which usually signifies visitors' final destination as they arrive in a beautiful hanging valley at the Lake Agnes Tea House.<br />
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Built in 1901 by the Canadian Pacific Railway as a refuge for hikers, the house (named for the original First Lady of Canada) began serving tea in 1905. While the log building was eventually replaced in 1981, the original windows, tables and chairs remain. At an altitude of 7,005 feet, getting supplies to the house, which offers more than 100 flavors of teas and homemade breads, soups and desserts, is not easy. On occasion, horses bearing load are used to make the journey and there is a helicopter delivery each year which takes more than 30 trips over the course of an entire day to drop nearly 10,000 pounds of items like flour, sugar and propane. Even still, high school and university students who live on-site during the summer make the hike several times a week to carry the garbage out on their backs and return with sacks of replenished goods. <br />
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There is no electricity at the tea house and they accept only cash for their wares. <br />
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Banff has been on my list for years and I was delighted when Matt booked a business trip that would deliver us there near our one year wedding anniversary. When I learned about the Lake Agnes Tea House with its rustic beauty and noted history, completing the hike to its door became my singular "must do" on the trip. <br />
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Although the details of these events just happened, as the years pass and the memory is not so recent, here is what I will always remember about that day....<br />
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I will remember how we were so engaged in taking photos that we missed the detour for our intended trailhead and, consequently, walked a number of miles out of our way before realizing our error. <br />
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I will remember how we did not plan for the unpredictable weather that completely contradicted the forecast and our attire. <br />
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I will remember the point at which we turned around, trying to determine how we could have missed the signs for Lake Agnes and regretting the feeling that I had dragged Matt along on some selfish (and possibly pointless) adventure. <br />
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I will remember tracing back over our footsteps as the rain and wind picked up and having the sinking, disappointed thought that I would, in fact, not get to experience the scenic journey and accomplished satisfaction of arriving to this fabled respite of a tea house. <br />
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I will remember how we finally came upon the previously missed, helpful arrow and how we stood there for a bit, shivering in the wet, disagreeable weather, trying to decide what we should do.<br />
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I will remember how much I wanted to start the immediate (and constant) ascent, how my heart was already committed to the additional four plus miles in spite of the rain but more than that, how I needed it to be okay with Matt, too.<br />
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I will remember blinking back tears over the possibility of retreating to our warm and dry rental car waiting for us in the lot. <br />
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I will remember the way Matt recognized and honored how important the hike was to me and, in doing so, turned and started up the trail, encouraging me to follow with a light hearted, "Come on...let's go!"<br />
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I will remember delaying, still feeling guilty that I would subject him to such awful conditions and saying, "But it's really miserable out here and, besides, this is just <i>my</i> thing."<br />
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I will remember him continuing up the path, calling back, "It's our thing."<br />
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I will remember loving him - appreciating him - even more in that moment.<br />
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The trail turned out to be harder than we thought, especially given the weather and misguided miles we had already hiked. My soaked hair plastered to my head and my frozen hands hung at my side. My yoga pants seemed like such a great choice when I slipped them on that morning but once on the trail, I wished for pockets.<br />
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We occasionally passed people on their return, envious of their downhill and nearly complete trek. <br />
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"How much further?" we would ask, sometimes devastated by their response. <br />
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"Is it worth it?" I would inquire. <br />
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Always, the answer was <i>yes.</i><br />
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While I am certain I will never forget how small, dark and dank the tea house was upon entering and I hope I always recall the couple who warmly invited us to join them, their table offering the only seats available to our grateful legs, completing the experience by sipping hot tea and nibbling on a very expensive peanut butter and jelly sandwich as my sweatshirt, draped over the back of my chair, failed to dry was not the moment I thought it would be.<br />
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As it turns out, the gift of the hike was from my husband who lovingly acknowledged something of significance to me and, despite difficulty and discomfort, actively participated in making it happen.<br />
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I will remember how the events that day reminded me of life and love - - how we sometimes lose our path or find things to require more effort than we expected but how there are always offerings among the struggles with vantage points and perspective we might have missed if not for the rugged climb.<br />
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Mostly, I will always remember that having a loving and willing travel companion - a true partner in the journey - will prove that the distance doesn't really matter when wondering, "How much further?" because the answer to, "Is it worth it?" will always be <i>yes</i>. <br />
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Happy Anniversary, Matt. I love you deeply and forever.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-omsqkkixFF0/UFYnHenRscI/AAAAAAAAAE4/lJ25PpZ8IpA/s1600/IMG_5243.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-omsqkkixFF0/UFYnHenRscI/AAAAAAAAAE4/lJ25PpZ8IpA/s400/IMG_5243.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Snapping a photo as we take a break on the hike to the Lake Agnes Tea House</td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16121299003269321431noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9707890.post-46660261442932057242011-10-20T14:12:00.002-05:002011-10-20T14:13:40.805-05:00Dear GraceI have written to Dylan countless times but this is my first love letter to you; it will certainly not be my last. While I may never share these actual words with you, I hope I find meaningful ways to express their intent throughout your life. <br /><br />I was eight years old - just like you - when my dad married the woman who would be my step-mother. I loved her immediately in small, superficial ways (she was very pretty and she smelled nice). Initially, she was also very pleasant toward me and so I am sure my affection would have become genuine in a short amount of time - most children are blessed with an availability of love. Unfortunately, we did not have a close relationship as I grew up but a part of me loved her anyway for giving me my brother.<br /><br />I remember meeting you for the first time and how willing you were to have me in your room and to share in the game you were playing. I remember the comfortable way you crawled onto my lap and the curious, playful manner in which you touched my hair. You were so receptive to my being there and I was grateful. <br /><br />In the months that followed our introduction, you occasionally called me "mom". I knew this was less an exclusion of your true mother and more an inclusion of me but I corrected you each time...<br /><br /><strong>Grace, my name is Jessica.<br /><br />I know. I'm just going to call you mom.<br /><br />But you have a mom.<br /><br />You can be my second mom and "mom" can be your nickname.<br /><br />I have a nickname - it's Jess. What if I wanted to call you Steve?<br /><br />That's fine so long as I can call you mom.<br /><br />I know...why don't we think of a nickname ONLY you can call me?</strong><br /><br />Trying to outfox me, you decided to go with my "Steve" tactic thinking I would never agree to a ridiculous nickname and would, therefore, have no choice but to finally accept "mom" - -<br /><br /><strong>Medusa!</strong> You triumphantly presented - your recent study of Greek mythology clearly paying off.<br /><br /><strong>Perfect!</strong> I accepted, smiling.<br /><br />That was nearly two years ago but you still, on occasion, use this pet name - mostly upon a departure of some sort: "Goodbye/Goodnight Medusa!" and each time, I consider the context of my dubbing and feel warm inside. <br /><br />When I think about your dad and how fortunate I feel to have found him, I think about how incredible it is that he not only wanted to spend the rest of his life with me but that he found me worthy of sharing in <em>your </em>life, too. I think about this a lot and I marvel at it every single time. <br /><br />I love being a part of your humor, empathy, intellect, and affection. I love watching you learn and experience life. I love "giving you dreams" with your dad and sharing in our "kiss code" at bedtime.<br /><br />I hope I am always among the faces you look for in the hallways of your life; I promise I will always be there.<br /><br />I love you,<br /><br />Medusa<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_I-_BO9euRQ/TqA_B8jNtZI/AAAAAAAAG0s/RaESX_ScGGU/s1600/DSCN0654.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 262px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_I-_BO9euRQ/TqA_B8jNtZI/AAAAAAAAG0s/RaESX_ScGGU/s400/DSCN0654.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665597633898329490" /></a><br />Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11464465779161315273noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9707890.post-91962328811439669672011-07-05T15:50:00.004-05:002011-07-05T16:05:32.901-05:00Independence Day<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_dAfXOHLVT4/ThN5Tk2zmcI/AAAAAAAAGzw/f0BCZA7sNVc/s1600/IMG_3161BW.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625973736733907394" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_dAfXOHLVT4/ThN5Tk2zmcI/AAAAAAAAGzw/f0BCZA7sNVc/s400/IMG_3161BW.jpg" /></a><br /><center>Departing for the Army - July 4, 2011 </center>Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11464465779161315273noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9707890.post-4882742778882659302011-06-28T10:02:00.011-05:002011-07-03T20:35:30.847-05:00DylanCuriosity is a natural inclination for children and you were no exception. You asked all the "whys" and "hows" of an actively interested boy - one line of questioning always leading to another. Your eclectic topics of choice ranged from animals and the galaxy to human behavior and religion.<br /><br />Once, in an effort to comfort you while we huddled in a closet as an Arkansas storm lashed our house, I asked if you would like to pray. Your solemn, eight year old eyes peered up at me from under our clothes as you said, "I'd rather cast a big, white circle around us like the Pagans do."<br /><br />Over the years, my maternal job description has shifted. The things you once needed me for are different and the ways in which you need me have changed. I find I am the one asking a lot of questions these days - - and you, perhaps a lot like I was as a teen mom, seem a bit short on patience.<br /><br />Now a man of 20, I look back on my role as your mother and try to be gentle with myself as I spot my mistakes in hindsight. Intuitively, I know there are others - errors I have forgotten or perhaps decisions I still do not perceive as misguided but you (or others) might. In all respects, I hope you will forgive me. You are going about the important job of adulthood and sometimes that includes filling the gaps our foundation might have missed or, at the very least, sealing our own cracks.<br /><br />I have sent you off once before as a college student but releasing you into the world as a Soldier feels different. Although equally proud of and excited for you, I also feel scared and vulnerably powerless. It is a larger, deeper fear than sitting in a closet on a stormy spring day but I find myself simultaneously praying as I project a huge, infinite round plane of hope and protection around you...covering more than one base, I suppose.<br /><br />In a most patriotic turn of events, you report for duty on Monday, July 4, 2011. You have always had my love and support but even that now feels different. Words can be such a poor messenger for emotions that run both deep and elevated.<br /><br />The noun "Soldier" is someone who serves in an army but, as an adverb, "soldiering on" is to persist in spite of difficulties. You are a fourth generation Soldier in our family and I know you will excel as the noun even as I struggle with the adverb.<br /><br />I love you,<br /><br />MomJessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11464465779161315273noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9707890.post-74539606812005685652011-05-08T11:53:00.006-05:002011-05-19T16:36:00.169-05:00Mother's DayI have written a lot about my mom on this blog with little positive on which to focus. Today, I'd like to change that - partly to acknowledge good where it exists but mostly in an effort to refocus my feelings, energy and attention.<br /><br />Dear Mom,<br /><br />Here are the wonderful things I remember about you:<br /><br /><strong>The way you loved animals.</strong> It was more than just tender affection, you were knowledgeable and instinctive about our pets' health and behavior. You always seemed to intuitively know the right thing to do in every situation. In addition, because you loved animals, you were generous with our exposure to them and so we knew and loved cats, dogs, hamsters, guinea pigs, birds, turtles and fish. Many of these pets were brought into our family by you but there were also moments of acquiescing to our pleas (and sometimes tears) regarding a found stray that just had to be kept.<br /><br /><strong>The way you loved music.</strong> I cannot recall a time in my childhood where the walls of our home didn't absorb the melodies and sounds of various genres - ranging from rhythm and blues to country and western to classic rock. I remember the 8 tracks and the album covers which, to your chagrin, were often used as scratching posts by the cats (<em>see aforementioned love of animals</em>). I think people underestimate the impact of music on a young soul but, of all the times I spent the night away from home, I cannot recall a friend's family that seemed to honor music as much as ours and I feel blessed by this.<br /><br /><strong>The way you respected people.</strong> In our house, it would have been <em>much</em> easier to get away with dropping a foul four letter word than to utter "nigger" or "fag" both of which represented an "ignorance" for which you had zero tolerance. At a very early age, you taught me not to judge people by their ethnicity or orientation but, rather, by their actions and intentions. You seemed sensitive toward others and adept at looking into the heart of people; perhaps because you hoped others would do the same toward you. On related notes, we were not allowed to say "shut up" due to the sheer disrespect of it and playing with toy guns was out of the question because "guns were <em>not</em> toys" and it was ridiculous to you that they would be marketed as such.<br /><br /><strong>The way you respected the earth.</strong> The only thing as egregious as prejudiced labeling and ignorant name calling was littering. This might seem trite or obvious to some - especially in what is now a very <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">eco</span>-sensitive world - but I will never forget the reaction I received the first time I casually tossed a candy wrapper from the car window. I am confident this served as my motivating factor for cleaning the woods behind our house, an effort in which I enlisted many neighborhood kids. Ironically, while I often wished our home were better kept (in comparison and contrast to that of my friends'), you drew serious lines and expectations when it came to respecting mother nature and, in doing so, made me acutely appreciative of that which is greater than myself.<br /><br /><strong>The way you respected literature.</strong> Not only was English your favorite subject but I grew up watching you read and remember perusing the numerous books that were piled throughout our home. I would marvel at your ability to instantly pronounce and/or define a word with which I was struggling and always in such a way that made it easy for me to understand and remember. In particular, I loved how you would listen to the poems I wrote and presented, taking note that you seemed especially proud which made me feel proud because you were so smart and articulate.<br /><br />You have directly shaped and influenced the way my life has been enriched by a love of animals, a value of diversity, a respect for our environment and a sincere appreciation for music and the written word. All of these things are deeply important to me and so today, a day we acknowledge our mothers, I honor your place among them.<br /><br />JessJessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11464465779161315273noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9707890.post-1719670651234853772011-04-15T14:48:00.004-05:002011-04-15T14:52:20.760-05:00Where I've BeenNot writing as much as I could - or should. I've been busy with my new job, wedding planning and having fun with my <a href="http://myphotoops.wordpress.com/"><strong>NEW HOBBY</strong></a>!Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11464465779161315273noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9707890.post-31629083507395192672011-04-07T08:17:00.006-05:002011-04-07T14:59:50.068-05:00The Permission of DenialBorn of lies, the words are delivered - -<br />The excuse, on the table, pathetically shivered.<br /><br />The dysfunctional motion makes me sick - - <br />The child who remembers, cut to the quick.<br /><br />I withdraw from the noise - that is my choice - - <br />A woman now, I have a voice.<br /><br />But you....you align out of ignorance and fear - - <br />With her addict's tongue and your enabler's ear.Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11464465779161315273noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9707890.post-14111246451865419822011-01-10T09:59:00.006-06:002011-01-11T10:50:56.806-06:00Dear, Sweet 2010I know I said it early and often in <a href="http://daughterofopinion.blogspot.com/2010/01/dearest-2010.html"><b>this post</b></a>, but......thank you.<div><br /></div><div>You brought me so many wonderful things throughout the year - - fantastic times with new and old friends, good health and opportunities for personal and professional growth. It wasn't just <i>what</i> you did but <i>how</i> you did it -- <a href="http://daughterofopinion.blogspot.com/2009/12/out-with-old.html"><b>rather than challenge me the way 2009 did</b></a>, you nudged and prodded me more gently, just as I had asked.</div><div><br /></div><div>I didn't realize when we began our journey together that you would afford me the occasion to travel so much but I thoroughly enjoyed and appreciated it. Not only did I get to tour the states extensively with my sweetheart (Atlanta, New Orleans, Denver, Chicago, Fort <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Lauderdale</span>, NYC, Charlotte, San Francisco/<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Sausalito</span>, Minneapolis/Duluth, Austin), I also had the good fortune of taking a family vacation for the first time ever which included a long overdue reunion that was meaningful for all of us - especially my dad. </div><div><br /></div><div>Even though I have loved my job for nearly a decade, after your first quarter, 2010, I started feeling as if it was time I moved on and I practically begged you to lead the way. After a favorable combination of circumstances, you opened a door for me and, while it remains to be seen what 2011 has in store, I am excited and deeply optimistic!</div><div><br /></div><div>I even took <a href="http://www.nanowrimo.org/"><b><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">NaNoWriMo</span></b></a> on during your November - - and while I am not sure it could be defined as fully <i>successful</i>, I learned so much about the process of writing and, in turn, about myself that I am counting it as a big win and one I hope to evolve more in 2011. In other creative areas, I have expanded on my interest in photography and can't wait to see where it goes. In both of these endeavors, <a href="http://daughterofopinion.blogspot.com/2010/07/reasons.html"><b>t</b></a><b><a href="http://daughterofopinion.blogspot.com/2010/07/reasons.html">hat guy you introduced me to</a></b> has not only been supportive and encouraging but he literally helped make these things happen for me. </div><div><br /></div><div>I love him incredibly.</div><div><br /></div><div>Speaking of him, he's going to be my husband! That's right, he and his amazing daughter are going to make official what I have felt in my heart for quite some time - they are going to be my family - and there is nothing I can place of greater value or importance.</div><div><br /></div><div>My only marked sorrow during your time was October 29 when <b><a href="http://daughterofopinion.blogspot.com/2010/10/in-love-and-gratitude.html">I lost this love in my life</a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">. Thankfully, because</span></b> I trust it was the right time <i>for him</i>, I am able to hold on to our ten years with a full and happy heart. </div><div><br /></div><div>When we first met, 2010, I gripped you with one hand and held my list of intentions in the other and you sagely checked things off with impeccable timing. Even when I wanted more sooner, you instinctively knew better.</div><div><br /></div><div>You will go down in my personal history as one of the most important years of my life; indeed, you have given me a mighty platform from which to jump and I can only hope the new year will offer me many chances to make others as happy as you, 2010, made me. </div><div><br /></div>Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11464465779161315273noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9707890.post-47035475517020595822010-11-09T14:23:00.003-06:002010-11-09T14:36:01.576-06:00Find The Opening<div align="center"><em></em><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EjZisIpuqo8/TNmuABlHqLI/AAAAAAAAGwY/XQSIjxZoinE/s1600/open%255B1%255D.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537648532276095154" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EjZisIpuqo8/TNmuABlHqLI/AAAAAAAAGwY/XQSIjxZoinE/s400/open%255B1%255D.JPG" /></a><em>When one door closes a window opens</em></div><div align="center"><em></em></div><div align="left">Cliche but true....</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"><br />Nothing can exist without that which came before it and every change is for our greater good. </div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"><br />Find the opening.</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="center"><em></em></div><div align="center"></div><div align="left"><em><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /><br />Photo credit - </span><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mhomann"><span style="font-size:78%;">Matt Homann</span></a></em></div><p></p>Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11464465779161315273noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9707890.post-83974388476197266792010-10-28T15:03:00.005-05:002010-10-28T15:21:56.498-05:00In Love and Gratitude<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EjZisIpuqo8/TMnXhF5IvVI/AAAAAAAAGv8/fIeuq40P1hw/s1600/Dave.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533190580718845266" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EjZisIpuqo8/TMnXhF5IvVI/AAAAAAAAGv8/fIeuq40P1hw/s400/Dave.JPG" /></a><br />This furry guy has been a meaningful member of our family for the last ten years. He has seen me through a <a href="http://daughterofopinion.blogspot.com/2004/12/to-wedding.html"><strong>marriage</strong></a> and <a href="http://daughterofopinion.blogspot.com/2007/07/untitled.html"><strong>divorce</strong></a>....<a href="http://daughterofopinion.blogspot.com/2005/05/it-never-ceases-to-break-my-heart.html"><strong>through the loss of my sister</strong></a>....through <a href="http://daughterofopinion.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-think-i-might-be-back.html"><strong>relocation to various homes</strong></a>; <a href="http://daughterofopinion.blogspot.com/2006/06/words-cannot-express-how-much-we-will.html"><strong>he has outlived</strong> </a>some <a href="http://daughterofopinion.blogspot.com/search?q=cash"><strong>great family dogs</strong> </a>and helped host a <a href="http://daughterofopinion.blogspot.com/2010/01/dear-newest-family-member.html"><strong>couple of other cats</strong></a>. He came into our lives when my son was in fifth grade and he was there for me when <a href="http://daughterofopinion.blogspot.com/2009/09/oh-places-youll-go-dylan.html"><strong>he left for college</strong></a>.<br /><br />After a dedicated effort to manage his kidney disease from home, I am opting to give Dave the true meaning of euthanasia - a "good death." I am hopeful the love and warmth I offered him along with so many of my family and friends contributed to his having a <em>good life</em>.<br /><br />The vet will be by our home tomorrow AM so that Dave can die where he is most calm and comfortable. We are fortunate to have one more night with him - - he is sure to be pet and snuggled all evening as we give him a proper good bye.Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11464465779161315273noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9707890.post-17062906813469446622010-09-08T09:15:00.008-05:002010-09-08T13:44:14.439-05:00The Kindess of StrangersI can be a social contradiction.<br /><br />Most of the time, if you make eye contact with me or exchange a passing pleasantry, you will find me to be affable, easy going and open to the encounter. Most people would describe me as extroverted, approachable; curious about and interested in others. <em>Heck, I’m in sales.</em><br /><br />There are, however, a few who – upon becoming close acquaintances – revealed their initial impressions of me to be aloof and a bit distant. While this information usually catches me by surprise, I do recognize the solitary part of me that occasionally folds into itself - - the me that isn’t always agreeable to making a connection or chatting with strangers.<br /><br />Such was the case on a recent early AM flight…<br /><br />The friendly gentleman seated next to me was just a little too inquisitive for my morning disposition.<br /><br />“Are you going or leaving home?” he smiled, referring to our North Carolina destination.<br /><br />“Leaving.” My response was not curt but neither did it invite further conversation.<br /><br />I deliberately did not offer a reciprocating question.<br /><br />“Traveling for business or pleasure?” he now inquired. His eyes were blue and crinkled at the corners.<br /><br />“Business.”<br /><br />“What do you do?”<br /><br />“I’m in sales for a healthcare recruitment company.” I delivered this reply while mentally establishing an invisible wall in the vacant seat between us. I kept my focus forward.<br /><br />The man shifted in his seat, positioning himself with greater interest.<br /><br />“And has the economic downturn had much of an impact on your industry?”<br /><br />“A bit,” I nodded, reaching for my bag. I offered a polite smile as I opened my book.<br /><br />The man, acknowledging my silent request for privacy, gazed out the window and the rest of the nearly hour and a half flight was blissfully quiet.<br /><br />Occasionally, as I turned the pages of my latest book club selection, I would glance over at the man. He had slightly adjusted the window shade and lowered the seat back tray before him – a worn bible, open at the middle, relaxed on the surface. He bent over the words as if listening to them; his hands folded in his lap as he read.<br /><br />His silence broke only once as he chuckled heartily to himself. I looked over, instinctively thinking I might also get the joke only to find that he was, in fact, still reading the bible. Apparently, he had found something among its pages to be good humor.<br /><br />This charmed me.<br /><br />As we began our descent and readied ourselves for landing, we simultaneously tucked our reading material away.<br /><br />“I’m connecting to Fort Lauderdale,” he said, offering the answer to a question I had previously opted not to ask, “for my grandmother’s funeral.”<br /><br />“Oh…I’m sorry for your loss.”<br /><br />He smiled warmly in a way that said <em>thank you</em>.<br /><br />“My mother didn’t want to come,” he continued, “but I had to.”<br /><br />I intuited that there must be a trailing story and, while I had softened toward the man, I was not inclined to draw it out.<br /><br />After a momentary pause, he asked, “Is there anything going on in your life you would like me to pray about?”<br /><br />I looked at him.<br /><br />I am not a religious person but my impression of the moment shifted from feeling guarded by the personal nature of his question to feeling touched by the generous offer from this man – this stranger – willing to acknowledge something important in my life with his good thoughts and intentions.<br /><br />Several seconds passed with the man patiently waiting my response. His calm, peaceful nature seemed wise about something I had yet to learn and I blushed, weighing my response as if I had been granted a wish.<br /><br />Ironically, I don’t want to share what I imparted to the man – this stranger en route to mourn his mother’s mother – but he listened intently with care as I laid my biggest burden at his feet.<br /><br />The silence returned as we touched down in Charlotte. The man looked out the window and I, once again, kept my focus forward, this time aware of the emotion filling my eyes in the same spot where his crinkled.<br /><br />Unbuckling my belt, I stood and gathered my belongings. We made eye contact one last time.<br /><br />I smiled…<br /><br />“Thank you for asking.”<br /><br />He returned the gesture warmly in a way that said <em>you're welcome</em>.Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11464465779161315273noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9707890.post-41592485503638063762010-08-26T16:37:00.004-05:002010-08-26T16:41:45.257-05:00Bad Day?We all have 'em. Unfortunately, what not everyone has is a thoughtful, creative boyfriend who decants a whole bottle of wine and offers the following "gift":<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509836469026674002" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EjZisIpuqo8/THbfE4LT1VI/AAAAAAAAGvc/qI5-MbqfgCg/s400/cheer.JPG" /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509836299160913218" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EjZisIpuqo8/THbe6_YKBUI/AAAAAAAAGvU/OxkzmdpgeH8/s400/bubwrap.JPG" /><br /><p align="center">BUBBLE WRAP!!!<br /></p>Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11464465779161315273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9707890.post-74918855067551748292010-07-14T14:43:00.007-05:002010-07-14T14:54:22.589-05:00Reasons<div align="left">#483 and #484 why I love him....<br /><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">Whether he's sporting a construction paper 'stache<br /><br /></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493850526183946466" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EjZisIpuqo8/TD4T8iZJeOI/AAAAAAAAGuw/unFH5jWV_Aw/s400/Stache.JPG" /> <p align="center">Or rockin' a clown nose....</p><p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493850430751986514" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjZisIpuqo8/TD4T2-4ZU1I/AAAAAAAAGuo/EDdh2emP9qg/s400/Matt.JPG" /></p><p align="center">He makes me laugh <em>and</em> swoon.</p>Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11464465779161315273noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9707890.post-64952601362307809012010-06-08T16:43:00.003-05:002010-06-08T16:47:58.596-05:00Dare to ChooseCourage is the price that Life exacts for granting peace,<br /><br />The soul that knows it not, knows no release<br />From little things;<br /><br />Knows not the livid loneliness of fear,<br />Nor mountain heights where bitter joy can hear<br />The sound of wings.<br /><br />How can life grant us boon of living, compensate<br />Full dull grey ugliness and pregnant hate<br />Unless we dare<br /><br />The soul's dominion? Each time we make a choice, we pay<br />With courage to behold the restless day,<br />And count it fair.<br /><br />- Amelia EarhartJessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11464465779161315273noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9707890.post-83859115967736154142010-06-02T07:36:00.012-05:002010-06-02T21:34:19.614-05:00The Things That Happen To Other PeopleLast night, I dreamed I returned to my childhood home as an adult. Everything was circa 1972 - a year before I was even born. <a href="http://daughterofopinion.blogspot.com/2006/08/on-your-birthday-lisa_20.html"><strong>My sister, Lisa, was 4</strong></a> - running around the house, loud and unbridled. My mom, younger than I am now, <a href="http://daughterofopinion.blogspot.com/2005/04/losing-my-religion.html"><strong>was already a wreck</strong></a>. She was drinking, taking drugs.....breaking things. I felt struck by the terror of her instability and unpredictable nature.<br /><br />And there was Lisa. In the thick of it all.<br /><br />At one point in the dream, Lisa was acting out and I chastised her. Apparently craving discipline and order, her disposition completely shifted and her apology was immediate and heartfelt. I scooped her up and held her face within inches of mine. I looked into her eyes,<a href="http://daughterofopinion.blogspot.com/2005/05/it-never-ceases-to-break-my-heart.html"> <strong>aware of her fate 31 years later</strong></a>. It was a painful moment but I managed to smile. I consumed her cheeks, wishing the kisses could protect her.<br /><br />Today, I saw <a href="http://mamapundit.com/2010/05/henry-louis-granju-1991-2010/"><strong>this post</strong></a> by Katie Granju about the loss of her son, Henry. After reading older entries about Henry's story and his struggle with drugs, I found myself searching his face in the photos - looking for a hint of something, <em>anything</em>, that I can't see in my own child. I scanned Katie's words for evidence of a family loophole, hoping for a solid knot I could cling to that said my kid can't be like Henry. My life can't be like Katie's.<br /><br />There was none.<br /><br />In fact, quite the opposite. I recognized the jawline in Henry's face - the angle of his teenage body on the cusp of adolescence and adulthood. I saw the personality in his expression, the life in his eyes. I choked at the skateboarding photo, mentally comparing it to the numerous times I've watched my son on his.<br /><br />It's not only easier to convince ourselves that these things happen to other people, it's <em>far</em> more comfortable, too.<br /><br />My heart and my best wishes go to the Granju family.<br /><br />Although my mind cannot comprehend their loss, I force it to try.Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11464465779161315273noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9707890.post-48962949922394611372010-03-31T15:19:00.032-05:002010-04-01T11:10:51.860-05:00Sometimes, Funny - I'M NOT!<div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><i>When you're hot, you're hot</i></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><i>And when you're not, you're not</i></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><i>Put all the money in and let's roll 'em again</i></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><i>When you're hot, you're hot</i></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><em></em></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><em></em></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><em></em></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><em><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></em></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"><i></div></i><br /><span class="Apple-style-span">We were driving back from Chicago, flipping </span><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">XM</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span"> back and forth between classic 80's and older country music when </span></span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9RKIQuiXVrQ&feature=related"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Jerry Reed's "When You're Hot, You're Hot"</span></b></a> <span style="font-family:arial;">came on.</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><i>(La la la la la)(La la la la)</i></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><i>(La la la la la - when you're hot, you're hot)</i></div><p><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span">My boyfriend, Matt (who seemed to know the words to nearly every </span><span class="Apple-style-span">song that popped up among the stations), began singing along, giving the chorus a particular gusto that - in spite of its predictability - sent me into a fit of laughter every time. In my effort to secretly film him, I caught only the end of the song but was elated when he gave me one more [unknowingly recorded] YOU HOT!</span></span><br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwUFIMtn13dN8SphRN6nROLcP5NuNxdT49Urkye7YohFKyniJKAE7uvQjXa4pHN_bkhoxuUfumqdQQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:medium;"></span></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Like many laughs we share, however, this proved to be only the beginning of the joke....</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Me:</strong> Know what persecutors said to Joan of Arc?<br /><br /><strong>Matt:</strong> YOU HOT!<br /><br /><strong>Me:</strong> Almost! They said, "Maiden Arc, you are deemed guilty and must be punished by death. Oh, and YOU HOT!"<br /><br /><strong>Me:</strong> Know what villagers said to Salem witches?<br /><br /><strong>Matt:</strong> I've no idea...<br /><br /><strong>Me:</strong> Sure you do! They said, "Brides of Satan, you will join your beloved as the flames of death lick your thighs. Oh, and YOU HOT!"<br /><br /><strong>Matt:</strong> [<em>On a roll...only in a different direction</em>] - -<br /><br />Know what the nose said to its mucus? YOU SNOT!<br /><br />Know what the rider said to her horse? YOU TROT!<br /><br />Know what the conspirator said to the mastermind? YOU PLOT!<br /><br />Know what the bed said to its cousin? YOU COT!<br /><br />Know what the inventor said to his artificial person? YOU BOT!<br /><br />Know what the maggot said to the carcass? YOU ROT!<br /><br />Know what the idea said to the pen? YOU JOT!<br /><br />Know what the wound said to the platelet? YOU CLOT!<br /><br />Know what the house said to its ground? YOU LOT!<br /><br />Know what the sailor said to his rope? YOU KNOT!<br /><br />Know what Mary Todd said to her husband? YOU SHOT!<br /><br />Know what the period said to its twin? YOU DOT!<br /><br /><strong>Me:</strong> [<em>Excited to play along</em>] - -<br /><br />Know what the zookeeper said to the leopard? YOU SPOT!<br /><br />Know what the shrink said to the ink? YOU BLOT!<br /><br />Know what the farmer said to the cow? YOU GOT!<br /><br /><strong>Me:</strong> [<em>Pause</em>]<br /><br /><strong>Matt:</strong> [<em>Silence</em>]<br /><br /><strong>Me:</strong> You know.....milk.<br /><br />[<em>Crickets</em>]</span> </p>Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11464465779161315273noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9707890.post-56728024344645452912010-03-09T18:00:00.001-06:002010-03-09T18:02:25.201-06:00"This Too Shall Pass"This phrase is most often imparted to encourage someone during a difficult time but isn't it significant to <em>all the time</em>?<br /><br />Every moment we are experiencing - good, bad or otherwise indifferent - will ultimately pass and we will be confronted with the next event and its subsequent emotion to absorb.<br /><br />I recently had an outstanding day (February 26 to be exact) - - one of those days where everything seems sanctioned by a benevolent, higher order and falls perfectly into place. I spent this day and the weekend that followed feeling light and inflated; my feet floating inches above the earth with a dreamy smile on my face.<br /><br />As is often the case, however, karma wanted to ensure I was kept in good balance and so this blissful day was followed by a really difficult one – a day when I felt as if everything around me was closing in and threatening to collapse. A day I felt I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">couldn</span>’t breathe.<br /><br />I am certainly aware of others who struggle and juggle more – those whose pain is far greater than I can possibly conceive and yet “bad days” are all fairly subjective. Considering someone else’s suffering might, on occasion, put your own in perspective but it <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">doesn</span>’t really negate the fact that one of your days has gone to complete and utter shit.<br /><br />During my bad day – a day when I reflected on the happiness of February 26 as if it were a far and distant memory rather than a mere 72 hours later - I felt hopeless, foul, irritated and overwhelmed. I suspected I looked as much, too, and so I snapped a photo of myself at a stop light in an effort to capture the emotion I was wearing and projecting to the world – an act of honesty I hoped would snap me out of it or at least encourage me to “fake it ‘til I make it.”<br /><br />Instead, what I captured was this overlapping beam of sun making its way across my sad and dour expression:<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 353px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445221057997009410" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EjZisIpuqo8/S5FPs8VjcgI/AAAAAAAAGpQ/mqrOAHJ-nh8/s400/sunshineonmyshouldersB%5B1%5D.JPG" /> <p>While I do believe that - regardless of what hardship we are enduring - there is always something brighter waiting for the opportunity to make its entrance, it <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">occurred</span> to me that the real truth of this shot is that fortune and misfortune will ebb and flow in our lives, bringing with them the sense of being blessed and damned. Like every moment, each will most certainly pass but it is the often overlooked union of the two - the invisible connector bestowing its wise gifts - that makes our lives and our moments that much more meaningful. </p><p>I am grateful for both. </p>Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11464465779161315273noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9707890.post-57773914019131132452010-02-14T11:42:00.010-06:002010-02-14T12:12:08.703-06:00Counting The WaysI can't decide what moved me more - the thoughtfully romantic gesture of beautifully matting and framing my <b><a href="http://daughterofopinion.blogspot.com/2010/02/my-valentine.html">previous blog post</a>....</b><div style="text-align: left;"><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 294px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EjZisIpuqo8/S3g51K4csBI/AAAAAAAAGns/h79o5BXa540/s400/IMG00268-20100214-1055.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438160135666839570" /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EjZisIpuqo8/S3g5v4i4tDI/AAAAAAAAGnk/LE6CJlelqHo/s400/IMG00267-20100214-0805.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438160044845216818" />....or the fact that he found my words to be worthy of such a gift. <div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div>Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11464465779161315273noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9707890.post-91799960490032372872010-02-12T12:32:00.006-06:002010-02-12T14:43:31.838-06:00My ValentineRoses are red.<br /><br />The meet.<br /><br />Our parking lot.<br /><br />The greet.<br /><br />Buying - and signing - my Sedaris book.<br /><br />The official first date.<br /><br />Two swans.<br /><br />Laughing. Really <em>laughing</em>.<br /><br />Hoping to catch and be caught.<br /><br />Anticipating the next random fact.<br /><br />Haikus.<br /><br />Complete comfort.<br /><br />Walls.<br /><br />Feeling as adored as I adore.<br /><br />Blue sweatshirt.<br /><br />Baked bread.<br /><br />Cooking dinner.<br /><br />Placemats. I want the turtle.<br /><br />Old photos. The toothpaste shot.<br /><br />Waking up at 6 AM.<br /><br />Talking, laughing, sharing.<br /><br />Reciting poetry.<br /><br />"Biscuits."<br /><br />Super Bowl bets.<br /><br />Making plans.<br /><br />Numerous trips.<br /><br />The art museum. Waiting. Laughing.<br /><br />Peas in a pod.<br /><br />Immeasurable happiness.<br /><br />Deeply.<br /><br />Everyone should feel this way at least once.<br /><br />Roses are red.Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11464465779161315273noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9707890.post-2197476298853991742010-01-22T12:24:00.009-06:002010-01-22T12:50:28.629-06:00Dear Newest Family Member...and by that, I mean you, Layla.<br /><br />You are <em>unbelievably</em> adorable, <em>preciously</em> sweet and <em>incredibly</em> loving, but - -<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EjZisIpuqo8/S1nw9zXLpII/AAAAAAAAGlk/LFSb-gF6e2M/s1600-h/Layla.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429635770321970306" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EjZisIpuqo8/S1nw9zXLpII/AAAAAAAAGlk/LFSb-gF6e2M/s400/Layla.jpg" /></a> <div align="left">Quit shitting on the floor, m'kay?</div><br />Seriously.<br /><br />You know the other cat that lives in the house? Yes, <a href="http://daughterofopinion.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-cat-is-free-loader.html"><strong>Dave</strong></a>. His expressions - and my dignity - have progressively worsened each time I've had to pick up your poo.<br /><br />At first his reaction was - <em>Sheesh! Whadya bring home, some kind of heathen cat?</em><br /><br />Then - <em>Are you serious? She gets to KEEP doing this....really?! No, I mean....really?</em><br /><br />And now - <em>How much more of this are you going to take, woman??</em><br /><br />He's losing respect for me, Layla. Fast.<br /><br />Look, I think you're otherwise great and - as I understand - you could use a home and a family. In order for this arrangement to work, however, you are going to have to find your way to the litter box that has been provided to you....<u>every time</u>.<br /><br />It might interest you to know you have options. That's right. If, for whatever reason, you find the current litter box situation not suitable, you are more than welcome to use the toilet. In fact, take a page out of Dave's book:<br /><br /><p><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EjZisIpuqo8/S1nwkAAWPbI/AAAAAAAAGlc/ZPiUydkNffA/s1600-h/dave.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429635327039258034" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EjZisIpuqo8/S1nwkAAWPbI/AAAAAAAAGlc/ZPiUydkNffA/s400/dave.jpg" /></a>Reading material is provided AND you don't even have to flush. </p><p>C'mon, Layla.....work with me. </p><p>Please.<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjZisIpuqo8/S1nt0Egt_MI/AAAAAAAAGk8/2Sxbom2zGt4/s1600-h/Layla.jpg"></a></p>Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11464465779161315273noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9707890.post-51229355493401103702010-01-18T13:56:00.001-06:002010-01-18T13:58:34.849-06:00Dearest 2010Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you,thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you,thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you....<br /><br />Seriously.Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11464465779161315273noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9707890.post-63938733982910963432009-12-31T10:07:00.003-06:002009-12-31T14:10:07.499-06:00Out With The Old...Dear 2009:<br /><br />Don’t worry – I’m not going to begin this post the way another blogger did, with a big F*%# You!<br /><br />However, <a href="http://daughterofopinion.blogspot.com/2009/01/dear-2008.html"><strong>per my intro letter to you</strong></a>, I had intended to make you one of my best years ever and somewhere, 2009, we failed. That’s right, I’m willing to share the accountability.<br /><br />While there were certainly positive points during your reign, you were not without your issues. By example, I would have preferred a better economy and more sales (the sliced and diced compensation <em>really</em> hurt) and I wish I had aligned myself better romantically. Still, I prefer to focus on the positive:<br /><br /><a href="http://daughterofopinion.blogspot.com/2009/09/oh-places-youll-go-dylan.html"><strong>My son graduated high school and went on to college</strong></a>. The empty nest was hard for the first week but I think we both adjusted in an admirable way. He continues to be a source of pride for me; no one makes me laugh as much as he does and I recently learned that he is an excellent writer.<br /><br />My sister and my father have temporarily lived with me. While some families may not consider this to be ideal, I saw it as an opportunity. I have not lived with my sister since I was 16 and she was 8 and, due to a divorce, never lived with my dad as a child. You, 2009, made it possible to get to know them on a deeper level. Thank you.<br /><br />While I would have liked to have made more money, I do still love my job, my company and my colleagues. Even though you were economically challenging, I even got promoted halfway through you, 2009. I am now traveling more and - with hope and effort - am ready for a much more successful new year…one where I can comfortably pay my bills.<br /><br />In fact, I wish this type of stability and dignity for all.<br /><br />In addition to the increased work travel (where I have seen glorious parts of the Southeast), I also managed to get to <a href="http://daughterofopinion.blogspot.com/2009/08/on-top-of-world.html"><strong>Montana and camped/hiked the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">backcountry</span> of Glacier National Park</strong> </a>– a long held dream of mine. You even reconnected me with many long lost friends (well, you and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Facebook</span>) – people I have never forgotten and don’t intend to lose track of again.<br /><br />I previously wrote about 2008’s life lessons and you, 2009, ended up being no exception. I’m just hoping 2010 finds me evolved enough to bestow opportunities for happiness rather than personal growth. Don’t get me wrong, I recognize that I am a continual work in progress but <em><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">geez</span> oh Pete</em>, I could use a break!<br /><br />Because life is comprised of moments in time…seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months and years like you, 2009, it is to be expected that there are highs and lows. During most of your 365 days, I felt as if I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">didn</span>’t have any solid ground beneath my feet and it <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">wasn</span>’t because I was soaring with glee; but rather because I felt I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">couldn't</span> establish traction in most areas of my life...and I need stability in order to be content.<br /><br />2010 – I know I’<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">ve</span> bragged about being stubborn and determined in the past and while those traits are still ever present, I am also humble and willing to admit my faults and shortcomings. Yes, I responded to 2009’s beginning with a “grab the bull by the horns” mentality but I recognize that I do not have all the answers or even always know the best way to find them. I promise to show up like a grown up and do my part if you will kindly guide me toward a smoother, lighter path. Deal?<br /><br />Respectfully,<br /><br />JessicaJessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11464465779161315273noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9707890.post-50206398653705598922009-12-24T00:26:00.004-06:002009-12-24T00:30:22.864-06:00Happy Birthday to Me!For my 36<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">th</span> birthday, I gave myself a mammogram and a new Blackberry. The former wasn't <em>nearly</em> as "horrible" as I feared it to be and the latter has been everything I hoped it would be. <br /><br />Thanks to all the family and friends who made my day so special - I love you all!<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 386px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418685425888636994" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EjZisIpuqo8/SzMJr3etsEI/AAAAAAAAGfk/J847NRHljRw/s400/moibday.jpg" />Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11464465779161315273noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9707890.post-57842209052552326672009-12-08T08:03:00.000-06:002009-12-08T08:04:08.140-06:00AnticipationYou know that saying about closed doors and open windows? <br /><br />Totally true...Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11464465779161315273noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9707890.post-403171372811706182009-11-29T10:31:00.002-06:002009-11-29T10:34:59.942-06:00Yup"The truth will set you free but first it will piss you off." - Gloria SteinemJessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11464465779161315273noreply@blogger.com1