Getting Closer to Everything

Huge sigh of relief. I, as well as some of my fellow classmates, managed to secure 51 individuals to attend our 10 year High School Reunion! That is a great turnout for an equally great event. All the prepwork is done, party favors have been created/bought (just need to assemble gift bags). My DJ is an alumni and he's confirmed and everything is just waiting to go down. I can finally say I'm excited about the event now that the whole attendance situation has settled. There are a lot of great people going, many of whom I haven't seen in 10 years! Plus my three closest high school friends will be there as well so our little crew is reuniting for a weekend. I've got a really cute dress, matching toenails (pedicure this past weekend) and have a good idea of how the evening is going to go. After all, I'm am the emcee!

Once the reunion is over, I have one day to collect my thoughts before driving up to the Poconos for a week-long vacation with my family. I'm excited Bronx gets to attend all of these things. There are many times when I'm doing something fun outside and I think "I wish Bronx were here." Yep, I have an unnatural obsession with my dog. This morning he jumped on the bed to wake me up and sat on my arm. Sat. On. My Arm. For a good five minutes too!

There are some important opportunities on deck that I'll post about if they come to fruition. All I can say is I feel like finally things are falling into place. I am going to be a contributor for another writing outlet and I'm feeling positive and well, a bit hopeful about the future. 

As I mentioned before, I've been working on perfecting my cold brew coffee recipe. As you may know, It all started with Federal Donuts coldbrew coffee. At a steep (no pun intended) three bucks a cup, I knew I had to find a way to make my own coldbrew. My first attempt with my French Press was awful, it was bitter and gross and I got discouraged. I tried Starbucks coldbrew (better than Federal actually...I could drink it black) and that is also a steep price. So I finally caved and tried with my French Press again. Ground beans didn't do a good job. My cold brew was lackluster. So I went out and bought whole beans, coffee grinder, half and half and made my own simple syrup. IT WORKED! The process takes a whole five minutes to prepare. Then I pop the French Press in the fridge for 12 hours and the next morning I have a delicious cup of strong, flavorful, less acidic coffee. 

Today I made my best batch yet. It was perfect. Seriously. 

Here's to getting a little closer to everything!

Until next time...

Little Accomplishments

The past two weeks have been peppered with little accomplishments. Last week I helped our agency get Sanctuary Certified! I contributed by giving our assessors tours, participating actively in case management meetings and teaching my weekly class about feelings and feeling poems. It was exhausting and the pressure was on ALL of us, but we did it. Took three years but now Drueding is Sanctuary Certified. It is a big deal and we are relieved. 

As I recovered from that I got invited to a luncheon on behalf of one of my volunteer's. She had received a grant for our agency to help purchase enrichment materials for our school age tutoring programs. I got to go to a nice lunch with her, and speak for a video that will promote our program and volunteer opportunities throughout the community. Being on camera made me realize how much I love the media/journalism world. I had the communications crew cracking up and delivered a solid, flawless, no stutter answer sequence to the questions. I even kept my right hand steady since I was holding the mic pack and they didn't want to see that on the camera. I loved it. 

Feeling accomplished from that I cruised through the week. On Weds I managed to grill on a charcoal grill for the first time. I had to feed our families for an awards ceremony that I host quarterly. Nervous as hell, I had a coworker help me fire up the grill. I can grill I just never used charcoal before. I'm more a gas grill kind of girl. Well, low and behold the food came out perfect, we had barely any leftovers, the building did not burn down and I felt really good about the whole experience. Especially because I was anxious all day about it. 

The last little accomplishment is that I finally perfected my recipe for cold brew coffee. I am addicted to the stuff and it costs $3-$4 a cup. So I set out to make my own via French Press. Cold brew coffee steeps longer, is stronger and less acidic on your stomach. With the perfect combination of half and half and simple syrup, it makes a creamy and smooth flavorful breakfast beverage. It took three attempts, a coffee grinder, special beans, regular half and half and a new simple syrup to create the perfect brew. I love it. I was so happy drinking it on my way to work this morning you would have thought I got a journalism job. haha

Upcoming is my 10 year high school reunion next weekend. Attendance is looking good and I'm getting really excited about the whole affair. Then I get a nice long vacation to relax after a lot of hard work and mini accomplishments. TGIF!

Until next time...

Jittery July

This month is proving to be quite stressful. First, my workplace is being evaluated by a trauma-theory Institute to see if we have indeed reached accreditation with them. For two days two assessors will inspect every facet of our program to determine if we are worthy of certification. Personally, I think we will be certified. We've done everything from paint the white hallways fun colors to increasing signage, preparing a structured but relaxed schedule and provided multiple opportunities to see just how we run things around here. It doesn't make it any less stressful. Especially because I liaison for an outside group coming the same day the assessors arrive. And that group has requested a mandated attendance of 3. You see, we don't mandate anything at our agency. I'm hopeful I have at least 3 families and that I can do well with my four to five pieces of the evaluation process. 

Tack on the final countdown to my 10 year high school reunion that I'm planning. Enthusiasm is up and many people are interested and excited to go. The problem is people are waiting, in true Eastern Shore fashion, to pay at the last possible minute. That makes for a nervous MA. I'm sure, just like the work certification, that we'll have a nice turnout and a grand ole' time. But the pressure is on until I submit my final headcount. I need numbers! I'm getting them but at a turtles pace. It should be a nice reunion though. 

Thankfully at the conclusion of this jittery month, I'm going on a week-long vacation to the Poconos with my family and Bronx gets to tag along too. Five days of no humidity, swimming, hiking, eating junk, drinking margaritas and just enjoying nature. I can't wait. It will be the respite I need after this mess. 

There are other little pin balls of anxiety in my life too. My mantra for the week is this:

What are we not gonna be? ANXIOUS!
What are we going to be? SUCCESSFUL, PRODUCTIVE and FOCUSED!

I was literally shouting these things in the car on my way to work. Just got to focus and breathe. Everything will work out great. 

Until next time...

From Sea to Shining Sea

Whew! What a 4th of July week/end!

Adventures started for me on June 30th when my best friend and I scored suite seats for the Phillies Brewers game. We got free food and free beer, a private bathroom and a great view of the game. A guy in the box next to ours caught a Ryan Howard foul ball. (If only the wind worked in my favor). It was a really neat experience to be a VIP for a night. Of course the Phillies lost because let's face it, they resembled the 90's Phillies. It was still a good game. 

Wednesday night my friend Hillary and I went to watch Rocky on the Philadelphia Museum of Art steps (where Stallone famously ran up in the movie). It is one of my favorite Philly traditions. The 4th of July is my favorite holiday so I have all these fun little things I like to do every year. Rocky is one of them. Hillary hadn't seen Rocky prior to that night so she had the best first experience of the movie. 

Thursday I kidnapped my co-worker and friend, Erin and we trekked down to Independence Hall for some free Wawa hoagies. It was Hoagie Day and we got free lunch! Always a delicious experience if you're willing to wait for a bit. 

Friday I ran errands and watched fireworks from my roof. Saturday I dressed up my minion to celebrate the 4th in style. 

Bronx - the patriotic pup. He didn't mind wearing his outfit save the hat. He isn't a big fan of headgear. 

His shirt says "Made in the USA." I'm sure he was even though Boxers are German dogs (originally). He was such a good sport about it and quickly became one of the most popular attractions at the Philly Party on the Parkway event. Everyone had a Boxer story or murmured "look at the Boxer!" And he got lots of pets and hugs too. What can I say, my dog is a charmer. 

The two of us made quite the pair. I was rocking my new Ray-Bans (old ones broke Memorial Day weekend after three years of being my go-to sunnies). I kept fixing Bronx's hat but he kept knocking it off. I don't blame him, I mean really. We had a blast getting some free Wawa drinks and Tastycakes before heading home to relax before the fireworks. After some delicious beer and my famous chili dip, I climbed up onto the roof. There were fireworks to my left, right, behind me, in front of me and the skyline...everywhere. It was like Grand Illumination at William and Mary. I had a moment where I thought "God Bless America" and "I love South Philly." South Philadelphians are very serious about their fireworks, btw. I mean 4 hours of snap, crackle pop. People shooting stuff off their roof and in the street, in parking lots and street corners. It was an experience for sure. 

Happy Independence Day!

Until next time...

Road Trip with Baye

My joke was that I want hiking with "baye" this weekend. Baye is actually my dog son, Bronx. On Sunday we decided to be spontaneous and take advantage of the no-humidity weather. We drove up to Bushkill, PA to hike Bushkill Falls. It was the perfect day for it. The park was pretty muddy so we got wet and dirty hiking for 3.5 hours, but it was worth it. Bronx did really well on the leash. I am convinced he is part mountain goat because of how well he handled walking on the jagged rocks.

He barked at his first waterfall. He walked up to it, all curious and cocked his head to the side. He decided to bark at it. It was kind of funny even though he startled some visitors next to us. He hates water and is afraid of loud noises but he was pretty brave throughout the whole hike. He didn't slow down, not even after I realized we missed one of the falls and had to double back to go see it. It was wet and treacherous, (think uphill slippery rocks and mud) but worth it. I had his portable water dish with me and we'd stop every so often for a water break. He was so excited to meet all the other visitors (who were thrilled to see him and pet him). I can't count the amount of times someone asked "is he friendly." 

Since we had to double back to catch two more falls, we ended up running into a lot of the same visitors more than once. I swear by the time we were done hiking I knew at least 75% of the visitors in the park. 

 The park offers beautiful views of waterfalls like this one. Bronx and I took selfies in front of most of them. He was pretty cooperative for a dog that doesn't have the patience for photo opportunities. 

All in all it was a very successful hiking day. I'm sore which means I got a good workout. Bronx didn't even put up a fuss as I left for work this morning. He calmly walked me to the door and then went back to whatever he was doing. I bet he sleeps most of the day. I think that is the most physical activity he's had in a long time. I'm so glad I got myself a little hiking dog. We're going to take advantage of day trips like this as much as possible. I know what happens as dogs get older, the hiking doesn't come as easy. We'll milk up these toddler dog years as best as we can. 

Until next time...

Books

During my second year of graduate school at Temple University, I was enrolled in this nearly impossible class: Editing the News I. You'd think we'd just be copy editing existing articles or learning the ins and outs of the editing world but it was so much more than that. For starters, we had to bring all 14 of our textbooks to class every day. Yes, 14. All of us had rolling bookbags to accommodate the load. I remember having to take SEPTA with my stupid rolling suitcase of books, resenting the world as I rolled my way down Girard Ave into work. We never used all 14 books in one class. At the most, we used 3 or 4. But we'd get called out if we forgot one. It was ridiculous. 

Our assignments were also unreal. We'd have to read a chapter and summarize it. Hey, not a big deal. But we'd also be given some huge task like creating a double truck layout on whales or collecting and identifying leaves. THEN we had to find time to study for the following quizzes which took place every class: a spelling test, a geography test where we had to fill in blank maps AND spell the locations correctly (capitals, states, countries, major landmarks, rivers...anything was fair game), an AP Stylebook and New York Times Stylebook quiz (random questions from each book...we'd be quizzed on ABC entries on week one and EGF on week two), and a visual dictionary quiz (the prof picked a random entry and we'd have to memorize it and regurgitate the facts on that page).

Every Monday we'd start class with those quizzes. Then we'd grade each others. We'd get the laundry list of assignments for the following week and the prof would teach a short lesson. The class was almost 3 hours and at the time I hated it. 

I'd have hissy fits and throw my suitcase of books in the middle of the room or knock over a pile of books on my desk. I had a crying spell in the elevator once because I felt so challenged that I didn't think I was going to pass. It was the hardest class I ever took in my life and I ended up getting an A-. 

I've been out of school for a year now and I miss it. Last night I felt so disconnected from journalism that I sought out my old Editing books. I realized how happy I was that I had them. While it was a pain to drag all 14 of them to class, I now have this library of journalism information at my disposal. The stressful, deadline driven random assignments? That emulates the newsroom. That is what journalism would be like every day. Here are 1,000 things you must accomplish in 72 hours, go. The class was preparing us for the real world and giving us the resources to succeed as journalists. Kind of like the Karate kid, we were beaten down in practice and realized our strength and resilience after the fact. 

I've started rereading "Think Like an Editor" and doing the activities in the back of the chapters. I'm hoping to refresh my journalism mind so I don't lose all of the things I learned in graduate school. It is easy to lose sight of the skills from your passion when your work is so far removed from anything you actually want to do for the rest of your life. I'm a babysitting paper pusher. I make a difference but not in the way that makes me feel like I make a difference. 

Battles prepare us for what lies ahead. I'd like to think that this stagnant career situation is preparing me for something. As the dust begins to collect on my degree and my desired field relies on unpaid interns to survive, I plan to use this time to refresh my memory and remind myself how to be an incredible journalist. I can't lose that part of me. 

Until next time...

Awards and Accolades

I have arrived. Or something like that. 

After six years with Drueding Center (one as an RMC volunteer), I have been awarded Employee of the Quarter. I was recognized for my endless creativity, ability to go above and beyond and take on many tasks outside my job description. I also fostered a meaningful professional relationship with one of our volunteers that got us a $1,000 grant for our tutoring programs. BAM. I have arrived. 

That is as high as it gets. Granted, I am in the running for Employee of the Year now. However, that usually goes to someone who feeds their neighborhood kids or rescues baby animals in their spare time. I'm not quite that worthy. But, that is as high as it gets in a work environment that can't afford to give raises and has no room for promotions. I'm chilling at the top of the mountain, metaphorically speaking. 

I'm grateful. Recognition and appreciation always feels great. Plus I'm someone who maps out my life by awards and accolades so this is another one for the books. It sounds awfully proud, but recently I realized that my life is defined by achievements both big and small. I'm driven by the need to earn awards like this. I remember in grad school when I learned there was a Top Scholar award for the MJ program. I was determined to win it. I stayed up late, got up early, damn near slept in the Tech Center, cried, coped and earned it. I see things, I work hard, I try to get them. The driving force in my life is achievement. 

Which is funny because I achieved the "highest" prize and I feel like I did when I graduated Temple...yay I won...now what. 

I am attempting to add non-achievement memories and events to my life. This past weekend I saw Matt Nathanson, The Fray and Train in Camden. It was a really fun concert and I'm so glad I went. I've been obsessed with The Fray since they came on the scene years ago. 10 years ago?  I knew all the songs. 

Upcoming, Erin and I are going to Runner's Night at the Phillies where we get free Runners shirts since we did Broad Street this year. Also Bronx has a playdate scheduled with Erin's dogs, Utley and Maggie. I'm hoping Bronx behaves himself. He's a bit of a talker around other dogs and I'm trying to help socialize him into being a bit calmer. I think if he has a few positive interactions under his belt he'll act better around dogs. I am still every so grateful that he is such a people dog, though. I'm serious, he LOVES everyone. So that's a good thing. 

Also on deck is Philly 4th of July, Rocky on the Rocky steps and a potential stand up paddle board adventure in North Jersey. Love outdoor stuff in the summer. Hate this June heat and nervous about July/August heat wise. 

Until next time...

Wiggle Butts and Parking Spaces

What can I say, he is pretty precious. This is what Bronx looks like after a day full of car rides and hiking in the suburbs. He sniffed everything so hard, a white foam formed around his nose. He had a really fun time and as you can see, he is dog tired. 

We're in a good place. He was exhibiting some recent separation anxiety. In the mornings as I'd get ready for work, he would get really antsy, start whining, charging the front door in an attempt to run down the stairs. Kind of like a "well, I'm down here so you HAVE to take me with you." I think the whole getting a car thing threw him off. Mom has a rolling box that I can ride in, therefore I can go with Mom wherever she goes. haha I don't know if dogs can reason, but I think there is a connection between my new car and my dog. 

So mornings were rough. As were afternoons. My otherwise angel of a dog was finding new things to get into like...the trashcan. This dog is scared of my trashcan. For three months he wouldn't go near it. Then one fine day he decided to explore. And the day after that as well. Trash all over the kitchen floor. I was really mad, but I get it. He is bored. I decided to get him some new toys to help keep him occupied and it worked!

I got him an everlasting treat ball which has a long-lasting treat on one side and dispenses little treats on the other side. I also bought Kong filler treat paste. He LOVES it. Now in the mornings, once I get his interactive toys filled with food, he barks at me for his Kong. "MOM GIVE ME" haha. I'm able to tell him to be good and leave the apartment without him making a ruckus. It is great. I'm glad we got past that whole him being upset with I leave thing. He didn't act that way the first 3 months I had him. 

The other new adventure in my life is remembering how to parallel park again. I'm out of practice having not owned a car in six years. I've driven cars but haven't had to parallel park twice a day, every day since college. I'm still rusty. I seem to think my little Kia Soul is a Suburban and three times its length. It is a tiny tiny car. This morning I managed to park in one fell swoop. I consider that a major accomplishment. 

That is about it. I'll leave you with a photo of Bronx and I from our hike last weekend. 

Forward facing camera makes his face look distorted. I feel like he looks like a Great Dane here. haha. Nope. He's all Boxer. 

Until next time...

Life Update No Updates

Hey everyone. Nothing much is really happening. I've been adjusting and enjoying life with a motor vehicle. Bronx and I went down to Virginia last weekend to visit my parents. We had a great time and Bronx loved the "country." He got to run around and lay by screen doors all day. I just tried to rest and relax and plan my next goal. 

No news on the job front. I have a few applications out but I'm not getting my hopes up. I'm not trying to be a pessimist but I know I'm trying to enter a dying field without an internship to show for it. I can either work for below living wage, try to take on an unpaid internship in addition to my full-time job, or keep hoping and praying something will come along. Why did I have to fall in love with Journalism? Couldn't I have picked something more lucrative like accounting or law? haha No regrets. 

I've got some fun things planned for June including a Phillies game where they're giving out "Runner's Shirts" for those who completed the Broad Street Run and I'm going to see Train, The Fray and Matt Nathanson next weekend. I'm pretty excited about the concert since I've been wanting to go for months when I first heard about it. I'm also hoping to take Bronx up north to the Poconos for some hiking if we ever get a cooler weekend day. It seems that Philly just skipped over Spring and went right into Summer. Bronxie doesn't tolerate the heat very well so we got to be careful. 

In other news, I just started watching this show called "Chasing Life." It's about a girl who is 24 and finds out she has leukemia. The catch is she's a "floater" for "The Boston Post" which I swear is set at the Globe because the setting looks just like the Globe (I've been there). So she's trying to break her first real story to get promoted to a staff member. She's also dating a hot coworker and trying to be the support system for her mother and troubled little sister. She finds out she has cancer from her estranged uncle who is a pediatric oncologist and keeps putting off treatment because "it's not a good time."

The show is interesting because it takes a look at this fictional yet possibly close to reality, cut-throat world of journalism. It makes me laugh thinking I could have secured a staff position with the Boston Globe because I sent in an application and toured the Globe a week later. I'd be lucky enough to be considered for a "floater" position. What do "floaters" do? They get great stories and take notes on them for senior staff to write up and publish. I don't know if that is how the Globe works but I do know you have to be prestigious as hell to be considered for a byline. That's the journalism world and I am the water boy. 

That's about all for now. I'm headed out in a bit to see Pitch Perfect 2 and squeezing in a workout before relaxing this Sunday evening. Got a busy work week ahead. 

Until next time... 

Revisiting "The Courage to Change The Things I Can"

As 2014 came to a close I began wondering what kind of resolution I'd make for 2015. 2014 had been a pretty epic year. I graduated from Temple with my MJ, ran some really good races, got exceptional high pass on my comprehensive exams, visited Boston. Good year. So, if you've been following along you know I designated 2015 to be the year where I find "the courage to change the things I can." 

January was rough. It made me sit down and think about what I have control over and what aspects in my life are completely out of my control. My one bedroom apartment in Center City was beginning to feel small. I really wanted a dog. I wanted to live in a neighborhood where people actually talked to you. I wanted an oven so I could cook actual casseroles and eat them throughout the week. After four years, it was time to move. 

I haphazardly looked up some Craigslist ads and found two apartments in South Philly, the neighborhood I wanted to move to. The first apartment was a little too small (smaller than my Center City place) and the second apartment was huge. So at the beginning of February I had moved to a two bedroom apartment with a brand new kitchen, roof access, and it was pet-friendly. 

South Philly apartment. Check. 

The next step was getting the dog. After two failed adoption situations I wanted to give up. But ever the stalker I found Brutus in Stroudsburg. After some phone calls and e-mails they put him on hold. I remember when they brought him out of the kennel. He was so wiggly and happy. I don't know if he knew what was about to happen but he certainly seemed happy about it. I loaded him into the back of the rental car and he started doing flips. It was the scariest drive of my life because it started to snow but we made it home safely. It was the end of February and I had my Boxer dog, Bronx Brutus Rodabaugh. 

South Philly apartment. Check. Boxer dog named Bronx. Check. 

I adjusted to dog mom life and continued to search for journalism jobs. I was nearing my one year anniversary of graduating and really wanted to find full-time journalistic employment before dust began to collect on my diploma. It was hard, very hit or miss. I began to realize that the journalism job was one of those things that were out of my control. Sure, I could apply everywhere but it was up to so many different factors and people to decide if I got the job or not. What else could I change? 

My commute to work was getting longer. If I missed the trolley I could be 15-20 minutes late. If the trolley was late I'd get home late. Bronx was being left alone for 10-11 hours a day. Originally he was an angel with other dogs and I was going to enroll him in once a week doggy daycare. However my angel warmed up to life and now is very vocal around other dogs. He still wags his tail but he gets so excited his vocalizations come off as aggression to other dog owners. We have to avoid most dogs to avoid "a scene." No doggy daycare for Bronx. He does well in the apartment, no accidents or anything but I can't imagine how hard that is for him, being alone for so long. 

So we have a crappy commute on public transportation and a dog who is alone too long. Oh, and you can forget doing things after work. Happy hour? Got to let the dog out. By the time I get home and let him out and hop back on SEPTA to get to happy hour, it is over. Not Bronx's fault but I was feeling restricted. 

Time to look at cars. I had my heart set on a green Kia Soul. I've wanted one for two years and have been hellbent on getting that car. I found one in Jenkintown and decided to make the moves to potentially purchase a car. I haven't owned a vehicle since 2009. I've driven rental cars or my mom's car when she comes up to visit but that is it. 

Dead set on the green Kia Soul I was surprised to find myself drawn to a black Kia Soul after test driving both. Long epic story short, I bought the black one! It had double the mileage of the green but was in really good condition. It FELT like my car. For women, you know when you're prom dress shopping or wedding dress shopping and you find THE ONE? It was like that. The car and I just fit together perfectly. I didn't get that feeling with the green one I thought I'd be buying. 

Five hours later I'm driving off the lot with her. 

I've named her "Sasha Fierce." It started as a joke in my head and now I can't picture myself naming her anything different. She is a 2012 Kia Soul with low miles and is in excellent condition. I find myself looking outside my apartment window looking at her or finding excuses to walk Bronx past her just so I can stare at my car. I can't believe it. I own a car. It still hasn't sunk in yet. 

This morning as I drove to work, the trolley, MY trolley pulled up next to me. I smiled. It was a perfect moment. I felt so grateful to be in my nice smelling air conditioned car. The best part? I rolled into work right on time. 

Sasha Fierce and I are going to have a very happy life together. I can only imagine the adventures we're going to have. 

Until next time...

10 Miles

Yesterday I did something I never thought I could do: I ran/walked 10 miles in the Independence Blue Cross Broad Street Run. I along with about 40,000 other people made the epic trek from North Philadelphia to South Philadelphia. 

I got up at 5am on Sunday morning, got dressed and took my very confused dog out for an early morning walk. He isn't used to being out so early but he got up and happily went out. We took a brisk walk on our morning route. It was a little chilly but I knew the day was going to warm up. We got back home, I gave him an early breakfast, then ate a bagel thin and peanut butter and banana myself. I tape up my legs with KT tape, put on my compression sleeves, fastened my bib to my shirt and gathered my race supplies. 

I made it to the subway around 6:05 and was happy to see it wasn't crowded. The SEPTA attendant wish me luck and several other runners exchanged smiles or small talk with me. We were all there for the same thing and there was a strong sense of comradery. Only one subway passed us due to being full. The next one came and there was room on it! I got a seat which I heard was "very lucky on Broad Street Day" and listened to a motivational podcast until we reached Olney station. 

I found my friend and co-runner Erin within 5 minutes of stepping off the sub (another amazing thing to happen). We were plenty early, had a short wait in the porta potty line before stretching for a bit and picking a spot in the front/middle of my corral. It was like driving down a highway with nothing but green lights. Erin said it was the least complicated Broad Street Run morning she had ever experienced and this was her 4th. 

The only downside to being in the last corral is that the winners of the run were finished before we started. It took an hour and a half before we reached the start. I was a bit nervous. Erin tried to encourage me to run the whole thing and keep a slow and steady pace. I felt like I had to use the porta potty again but it was nervous bladder. The crowd began to move and we were off. I clocked my watch to start, pumped up the playlist and ran. 

The "wall of runners" wasn't that thick and I ran and what I thought was a decent pace. It was too fast. We finished our first mile in 12:30 which was fast for me. I got a massive cramp in the center of my chest and had to walk. Then I was off running again. Erin kept behind me. At first I thought she was doing that so she didn't lose me since I was slow and she was fast. Nope, finally she told me "Stop running ahead of me!!!" She was pacing for me! Running at a slow and steady pace for me to follow her with so I wouldn't get too winded too early. 

The crowds were great but I had to do a lot more walking than I anticipated. My hips, despite stretching every night, began to feel like knives. My lips developed a thick film over them because they were dry. We stopped at every water station, even just to throw water on our faces. My pace got longer and longer. By mile 5-6 I was walking more. I'll be honest, mile 6-9.75 I walked a lot. I was walking really fast but walking not running. I wanted to quit. I didn't think it was possible. Finally the finish line was in sight. We ran for it but I had to stop to walk again. My body couldn't take it. Then I picked up running and crossed it at 2:26:53. 

I had two goals: finish the Broad Street Run and finish within 2:30. Done!

It was the hardest athletic thing I have ever done in my life. I remember around mile 7 (what feels like the longest mile), looking around and seeing tons of walkers. I wanted to tell Erin, "look, I'm with my people!" She ran her slowest Broad Street Run so I wouldn't give up and stay with her. That's friendship. Poor thing ran well over the time she normally finishes. But we finished together! 

After the race we got food and medals. We took a shuttle bus to the parking lot. (Another green light!) Then after about 15 minutes cruised down Packer Ave to get to the diner by my apartment for some post-race lunch. I had a delicious burger and fries. There were a lot of other Broad Street runners in there too. We exchanged knowing glances that said "I know what you just went through, enjoy your meal."

I walked home and was greeted by my neighbors that knew I did the run. I had to let the dog out since it had been almost 8 hours since I last saw him. I wore my bib and medal for our walk. People congratulated me or asked me about the race. When I returned home with the dog my neighbors invited me over for a post-race beer. They even gave Bronx some ice water. It was perfect. 

Later that evening when I went to pick up my pizza and wings for dinner, I wore my medal again. More people stopped me and asked me about it. Some had ran their 10th Broad Street, some said their knees were already killing them. It felt so good to be a part of something. I've got another Philly tradition under my belt. So far we've got Mummers, 4th of July, Phillies Games, the Christmas stuff, Komen 5K and now the Broad Street Run. 

I learned a LOT of things during this race. 1) we're all winners. 2) those signs make a difference including the famous little girl with her sign that says 'touch here for power.' 3) I will train and do the race properly next year because 4) it was a miracle I finished under 2:30 (barely). I didn't train like I should have. My longest run before this was 3 miles. I couldn't even run a single mile straight through (though I kind of did during my first Broad Street mile). I think next year it is going to be a lot different because I will be way more prepared. 

But I DID IT. I set my mind to it, I had a great supportive friend and I DID IT. It felt great getting the text updates after the race with screenshots of my friends who signed up for my race updates. I've got one more race this year and then I think I'm going to work on body conditioning for awhile. It's Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure, Breast Cancer 5K. I do it every year. Its my favorite race. Hopefully I'm able to PR again because after Broad Street, anything seems possible. 

Until next time...

Unrest

There seems to be unrest wherever I go. First I have the restlessness of my own heart, dying to spend 8-9 hours a day sweating out creativity. Then, I have my current work environment which has fallen into a state of chaos. Today my dear work friend threatened to quit and I've heard at least three employees mutter curses under their breath. It's not even 11am yet. Then we have the unrest of the world. All eyes are on Baltimore. Facebook feeds are inundated with opinionated posts. Some plead compassion for our fellow man. Some are blatant and racist. Some are just asking for prayers. Some are threatening to unfriend those who think differently. 

As I browsed through Twitter last night with the #BaltimoreRiots trending, I began to think wow...this is just going to keep happening, isnt it? Every time a black kid or man or person, really...gets killed by the law...people are going to protest. I'm not saying that is right or wrong. Everyone has the right to an opinion. These events stir up some very intense emotions in people. The word "injustice" is usually thrown about. But this is going to keep happening and people are going to keep being upset and the media is going to keep shining a spotlight on these events because if it bleeds it leads. 

Sure, riots in a major city are worth covering. That is "news." But the public outcry is why was all the media attention focused on looters and burning cars when 10,000 marched through the streets peacefully? These riots are going to lose their credibility. These riots are going to turn into one big reality TV show. It will get old. Not the protests, but the riots. 10 more black men will be killed before, during, after police custody and people will #blacklivesmatter and riot. Collective America will sigh and go "oh great, look the looters are stealing toilet paper again." 

I wish the media would interview the store owners and employees. I'd be willing to bet a lot of them are immigrants who have to fight with insurance companies to repair the damage that "invincible angry people" caused. Would it matter? Would the rioters take pity on a man who spent his life's savings purchasing a 7-11 store to support his family? Who knows. Perhaps the rioters can't see past their own anger. 

I think rioters feel a sense of invincibility when they throw a chair into a glass window and cause thousands of dollars of damage they will not be accountable for. It feels good to destroy things. Stealing feels like justice, maybe? Sometimes I wonder if half of the looters and rioters even know what or who they are mad at. They claim to be mad at police and "the system," but who are they REALLY mad at?  I mean really, no one is looking at the rioters thinking "wow, we must change the way our law enforcement reacts to situations because these people are burning down beauty parlors." Nope. The rioters are being condemned. The peaceful protesters are being ignored. And everyone is on standby waiting for the next law enforcement/civilian tragedy. Any loss of life is a tragedy, whether that person was a criminal or not. Just as injuring the very people that took an oath to protect you is a tragedy. 

I know many people will look at this and say, "you're white. you wouldn't understand." The reality is, no one asked for "white privilege." I did not ask to be born white. I did not grow up using my whiteness to get ahead. If society propelled me forward because of my whiteness, that is not my fault. Just as no one asks to be born a black male. No one asks to be profiled upon walking in a nice store. No one asks to be feared just because you're wearing a hooded sweatshirt and walking home after dark. 

America, land of the free and home of the racist. We're rewinding, not moving forward and I haven't the slightest idea what to do about it. Everyone has such strong feelings, convictions and opinions that reason can not blanket society. Too much anger, too much hatred. 

Until next time....

We Run This

Well folks, I'm staying in Broad Street. That's right in a little over a week I'm going to run (and let's face it walk a little) 10 whole miles with 40,000 other runners and my friend Erin (who is in way better shape than me). I've never done a race like this before. Training didn't go so well due to weather and major life changes (let's move to a new apartment and get a dog in the dead of winter, shall we?) But I'm staying in. I'm going to do it. My legs will be taped up with KT tape and my calves will be comfortably compressed with my compression sleeves that say "Run Happy." I'm going to carry a piece of paper in my pocket that reads "MY PR IS TO FINISH" and hold it up whenever I need extra encouragement. I'm going to hold my fingers up to mark every mile. I'm going to do this. 

I have to admit I'm pretty excited. My goal is to finish in 2:20. I'll take 2:30 if I have to but if I go over 2:30, I'm going to feel like a bit of a lame duck, personally. I run a decent 12 min mile, 13 when I'm tired. I don't think my miles creep toward 15. For an overweight asthmatic with bad knees, that's not too shabby.

Then we're going to do it all again (sort of) a week later at the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure 5K on Mother's Day. haha I race every year so that should be a good time. Maybe it won't be as hard because the week prior I will have destroyed 10 miles (hopefully). 

Mind you, I'm not suddenly a hard core marathon runner chick. I actually HATE running. I'm so bad at it. My form is crap and my lungs don't like it, but I do it because races are fun. The crowd's energy feels amazing and it is such a rewarding feeling when you cross that finish line after pushing yourself to the limit. I think after Komen I'm set for a few months and going to focus on biking and strength training. 

I'm hoping to stop by the gym by my work before next weekend to see the juice bar guy that works there. About a year ago he told me to do Broad Street. I told him I'd cross the finish line when people were cleaning up the running cups. He said he'd be right behind me with his bum knee. I don't know if he is doing it but he believed in me. I want him to know I'm in it and it is going to be awesome. 

Send good vibes my way! 10 miles is a lot of ground to cover. It is gonna be epic!

Until next time...

When is a Change Gonna Come?

I miss graduate school. I felt like I was working toward something. Now I just feel like I'm waiting for something. There is a certain element of satisfaction you get when you are actively working toward a goal. You can see the tangible progress. You know you're getting closer to an accomplishment. But when you're waiting for something to happen, you have no choice but to distract yourself with other, little goals and wait. You're static. You sit. You wait. You hope and then lose hope and then hope again because it feels better than being hopeless.

I've been in survival mode lately. I think I've just about adjusted to dog mom life. I know Bronx's needs and I meet them accordingly. He's a great dog and even though he exhausts me sometimes, I totally can't picture life without him now. I'm so glad I rescued him and based on the intensity of his affections, he's pretty glad too.

The survival comes from battling spring sickies and trying to keep my head above water with work. I'm slated to run Broad Street in May but have developed an intense pain in both legs. I'm worried it might be a stress fracture which means I can't run. I'm doing a 5K this weekend to see how it goes. If I'm in too much pain I'm going to have to back out of the Broad Street Run. That is something I DO NOT want to do, but I obviously can't run 10 miles if I can't run 3.

I should probably stick to writing things.

In the spirit of needing little goals while I wait on the big ones. I've started a list of the new goals for this first half of 2015:

1. Bought a french press...going to make cold brew coffee with it. Why? Because it's delicious.
2. Attempt to do living room yoga 3 mornings a week...then enjoy cold brew coffee.
3. Train Bronx to do more tricks because he's a smart Boxer and needs to be mentally stimulated
4. Learn 3 new recipes a month. I have an actual oven now and I'm not afraid to use it
5. Get back to learning how to code websites

Sounds like a good start. Baby goals since my two major goals have been met (Apt in South Philly and Bronx the Boxer).

Still hoping for that journalism job. Ah, and my green Kia Soul. But I'm willing to push the car goal back to 2016.

Until next time...

Static

March went by in a blur. An epic blur. I'm beginning to see how my life is like a cyclical calendar. I mean, all of our lives are like cyclical calendars but there are various routine events that happen each and every year at the same exact time. 

For example, last Friday I attended my 6th annual DVAEYC conference. It was fun because I also wrote about it for Generocity. Plus I got up and close photos of PA Governor Tom Wolf so there's that. The following day I had my 6th Stairway to Our Future, a large fundraising gala that raises money for my work. It is routine events like this that make me go "oh, it's that time of year again" in my head. In fact, last year's March post was also entitled March Madness. See? Routine. The Same. Cyclical. Predictable. 

Lately I've been trying to really accept this notion:
"Stability is important, but not at the sacrifice of happiness. Take a risk and pursue what's really important to you."

I know a few people who actually did that. They quit stable, high paying, secure jobs and began doing what they wanted to do with their life. They seem happy, even in the chaos of living paycheck to paycheck. I'm beginning to think that maybe that life is for me too. 

My time at my current job has taught me many things. If it wasn't for Drueding, I wouldn't have been able to afford my center city apartment or gone to graduate school. I wouldn't have made lasting friendships (even though many of those friends quit and moved away we still talk). I wouldn't have had the opportunity to comfortably freelance for other media outlets. 

I think I've maximized my growth here. There is no room for promotion other than personal promotion by serving on committees, which I already do (many of them). I could brainstorm new projects but that just adds work to my plate not development to my professional growth. Sure I can afford food for me and my dog and I have really good health insurance but at the end of the day I don't feel quite as fulfilled as I once did. I get more joy out of writing, or interviewing, or seeing my work published than I do after a long day of social work, even if a client told me I made a difference in their life. 

So I guess the point is, I'm at a static phase. I'm trying to make moves to "take a risk and pursue what's really important to you," As always that risk taking comes with an epic waiting game. A game I've been losing quite a bit at lately. But I'm not giving up. 

Until next time... 

Adventures of a Dog Mom

There are a few things I have learned since becoming a Dog Mom less than one month ago.  One is that Bronx Brutus and I can not go for a walk without at least one person identifying him by breed. That's right, almost every walk someone makes a Boxer comment. He has been called Boxerface, Boxerman, Boxergram, Boxer Boxer....you name it. Everyone loves a Boxer. They are amazing dogs, smart...loyal...funny...and exuberant.

Bronx has adjusted to my apartment nicely. He absolutely loves his bed. LOVES it. Whenever I look for him when he is not in the same room as me, he is in his bed. He also is a huge cuddlebutt, which is why I wanted a Boxer specifically. I mean any chance he gets he will sit on me, curl up in my lap, sleep on me, snuggle next to me, put his paws on my legs...etc. He loves to be up on me and I love that about him. 

He displayed impeccable manners when I first brought him home. Now his true colors are showing. He's not bad by any means but he's showing his "comfort" level with me. Yesterday we were walking and he got so excited he tried to bite on his leash. That is puppy behavior! He also begs a little bit (we're working on it) and loves to jump up on people. It's so cute because it is a very controlled and deliberate jump but we can't have that. I don't want him jumping up on kids. So no jumping. At first he was really good with other dogs. Now he's getting to be a bit of a bully. I'm going to have to socialize him more to teach him that other dogs are friend not foe. He got in a fight at the dog park the other day and I had to drag him through the mud to get out after an embarrassing showing of Alpha Male. 

If he can't get it together and play nice with other pups, we may not be able to take advantage of doggy daycare. Which means he will be stuck in my apartment for hours on end 5 days a week. :-( 

He likes his food. I had him on Nature's Recipe limited ingredient easily digestible food. Then I put him on Nutro same deal. He happily gobbles up both but I think he likes the Nutro better so we are sticking with that. 

His favorite toy is his treat ball. He rolls it around the apartment and it dispenses treats at random. He could play with that thing for hours. Loves it! He also has bonded with a stuffed snowman and his heart toy I brought him home with. It says "puppy love." 

I will say being accountable for another living creature 24/7 is a major adjustment but I wouldn't change it for the world. I absolutely love him. He makes me laugh. (He stares at stuff cooking in the oven if I put the light on). He is full of energy (but not destructive). He is a clown dog for sure. 

There will be more to learn though! 

Until next time...

March Madness

After compiling a personal schedule and a work schedule for the month of March, it became apparent that this is going to be one crazy month. That's right, March Madness and it has nothing to do with basketball. (Same as last March if you remember that post!) 

I've got eight late nights, a conference, three special events, a training, at least two articles due for one publication (waiting for the confirmation about more) and oh, did I mention I'm training for a 15K race and am a new dog mom? 

I have yet been able to get on a strict running schedule at the gym. The outdoors are way too treacherous with slush, sleet, snow and ice making walking difficult let alone running. I'm supposed to be running for at least a half hour to 45 minutes 3-4 times a week. I've yet to do it and the race is two months away. 

I finally unpacked the office of my apartment and put some wall hangings up in my bedroom. The living room continues to remain a work in progress. I still have to purchase a daybed frame and unpack one corner of the living room. I got to do a nice thorough cleaning of the place so for that I am thankful but I'm still not completely moved in. 

Bronx, my fur child has developed kennel cough. The poor buddy started out with some sneezies and it developed into a full blown hacking, gagging, sometimes reverse sneezing cough. He keeps me up at night with his sicky noises and I wish I could do more to make him feel better besides giving him his cough meds and an occasional teaspoon of honey. He's only been with me a week! Other than the cough, he did great at the vet. All of my concerns were proven to be normal things. He is a healthy and happy puppy, he just needs to beat this cough. 

So I'm still adjusting to dog mom life and trying to figure out where I can squeeze out more hours in the day. I could get up earlier but our sidewalks have been pure icy and we have to wait for it to melt a little before it is safe to go outside. I go to bed early but it doesn't matter, I wake up all hours of the night. 

Got to find a happy medium! There is work to be done!

Until next time... 

Dreams Do Come True

And....we're back!

The courage to change the things I can. That was my mantra for 2015. The year started off rough with a huge tragedy affecting a former classmate of mine. The weather was brutal, job opportunities were few and far between. I felt pretty stuck. 

So I set out to figure out what I could change. I had no control over the job front. I could apply for 10 jobs a day and it was up to someone else to decide if I was worth an interview. So I tried to work a little harder at my current job. Busy days make the day go by quickly and almost bearable. 

I couldn't change the job right away but I could change my living situation. I grew tired of my downstairs neighbor waking me up in the middle of the night with her sex noises, door slamming, and singing at the top of her lungs at all hours. I got tired of the first floor guy singing opera at 3am. I got tired of walking 12 blocks to the laundromat. I got tired of having such a small amount of space. I knew I wanted to make the move to South Philly but it was the dead of winter. I also wanted a dog. 

So I haphazardly browsed Craigslist. I found two listings, one in Passyunk and one in South Philly West (not to be confused with Southwest Philly). I went to check them out. The first apartment was a studio and it was so small I couldn't even fit all my furniture in it. I felt bad because the landlord seemed really nice and was willing to cut me a series of deals because I seemed like I'd be a good tenant. I could not make it work. 

The second apartment I went to see looked like a penthouse compared to the first one. It had two bedrooms, a living room, a brand new kitchen with a brand new oven and plenty of cabinets and counter space, and well...was pretty much awesome. Plus they were willing to (with a deposit of course) allow me to have one Boxer dog. 

I didn't waste a second. I filled out the papers, contacted my landlord and waited for approval. And I got it! Over 50 people inquired and applied for that apartment and the landlords chose me! They were impressed with my maturity (please, I'm 28 going on 58) and were really happy to have a clean and put together new tenant. I moved in the first weekend of February. Of course the packing process was swift and I got super sick. I developed a horrible barking cough that kept me up at night and restricted my breathing. The weekend of my move, I wasn't sure we were actually going to succeed. I had move as much fragile stuff as I could prior to "the big move."

Of course I thought the Uhaul was too small but I had expert packing/moving friends help me and they filled that sucker up full. We didn't require any additional trips. Now, mind you I moved from a 3rd floor to a 3rd floor. Gotta love those steps! I like 3rd floor apartments because I feel safer being so far from the street, but yeah...those stairs are a bitch. 

I went to the doctors after the big (and wildly successful) move. I was diagnosed with a viral lung infection and basically the world's longest asthma attack. I was put on oral steroids, a new inhaler and cough syrup. It took over a week to recover and be back to normal.

My parents came to visit the following weekend, bringing up some furniture from my house in VA. I converted one of the bedrooms into a living room and the living room into my office. So I have one bedroom, a living room with a loveseat and daybed/couch, a front office and a kitchen and bathroom. I was also set to adopt a dog in New Jersey that weekend. His name was Cash and for a week the current owner led me to believe he was mine and I would be picking him up on Saturday. 

Friday night, the eve of the day of picking him up, I got a series of emails and text messages stating there was a huge miscommunication and I would not be getting Cash. He was supposed to be held for another family and not given to me. It was devastating. The parties involved just blamed each other.  My parents were going to drive me to Jersey to get him and now there would be no dog. 

Heartbroken on Valentine's Day I spent 12 hours straight unpacking everything I could. I barely took a break to eat. I just wanted to unpack and get my apartment in order. My parents were forced to leave early on Monday due to an incoming snowstorm in the south. They were supposed to stay another day or so but they didn't want to get snowed out. It is a good thing they left when they did because the Shore did have a significant snowstorm that shut everything down for days. 

I went back to work on Monday feeling pretty down. My parents had left, my apartment was emptyish again and I didn't have a dog. I found another dog on the PSPCA website and scheduled a visit to the SPCA to see about him. Unfortunately he was on a behavior watch list, meaning he had a series of behavioral issues ranging from food aggression to a distaste for other dogs. I couldn't even meet him. I really wanted to devote the time to train him properly but the SPCA was going to make sure I was ready, willing and able to devote time and money into trying to make this work. It was a gamble. 

Ever the dog stalker, I was browsing for other Boxers as well, just in case. I found one in Stroudsburg, PA. I contacted the shelter to ask if they had any geographic restrictions for adopting. They said no. Then they replied to my email later in the day AGAIN to say no. That prompted me to submit my application in which would be approved as long as my lease allowed dogs (it did). 

By the next morning I was approved and the dog was put on hold for me! His name was Brutus, he was a 2 year old Boxer. Apparently another application went in for him too but I was approved first. I'm so glad I got that weird second email or else I may not have applied for him when I did. 

The week dragged on but finally Saturday arrived. I rented a car and drove to the mountains to get him. The trip took about 2 hours. When I reached the shelter, many of the staff knew of me because of my frequent emails (I wanted to know that he made it through is nutering surgery ok). I filled out the papers, they grabbed my leash and next thing you know the most wiggly little brown and white boxer was brought out to meet me. He was excited. I was excited. They had to take us outside so we could take a picture before heading home. 

Brutus was so excited, he did actual somersaults in the backseat. I'm serious...flippy flips galore. Of course it started to snow and snow driving makes me nervous. We had quite the difficult drive back, taking almost over 3 hours. Then I brought him home. He was very excited to be home, doing little tornado circles around as he sniffed everything. I got him settled and then had to return the rental car. 

It was the most difficult drive of my life. It took over 5 hours to get to the airport and back. It was scary, I had a panic attack. The roads were pure ice and snow. The car slipped and slid. It was...a nightmare. But with prayer and faith I made it to and from safely. After leaving my new dog home for 5 hours on his first day, I had no idea what to expect. I walked into the apartment and found him sitting looking at me. He hadn't messed with anything. No accidents, no chewing mishaps...nothing. He was an absolute angel. I couldn't be happier. 

His name is now Bronx Brutus Rodabaugh because back in 2008 I decided I wanted to adopt a boxer and name him Bronx. He's adjusting to home life really well. He can make it through the day without accidents. He shows a lot of affection. He walks great on a leash and is friendly with other dogs. We went to the dog park last night and he exceeded my expectations with his ability to play alongside dogs of different sizes. He is pretty calm unless I'm just getting home or we're about to go on a walk. My downstairs neighbor met him and loves him. He gets compliments daily on our walks and he loves his orange dog coat! He is a true angel dog and I'm so happy to be his momma. 

So now I'm just adjusting to dog mom scheduling. I have to get up earlier to take him for a long walk so he doesn't get anxious while I'm at work. Plus as soon as I get home, we go for a walk. Adjusting to someone else around 24/7 is going to be a process but a good process. 

My goals were: rowhome in South Philly (well, I got a 2 bedroom apartment), adopt a Boxer (check), full-time journalism job (working on it) and green Kia Soul (will happen before 2016...because I think I may just need a car to survive now). 

Halfway there and definitely much happier. 

The courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference. 

Until next time... 

Life and Death

Yesterday was a particularly difficult day. I woke up in a great mood. I had some great dreams the night before. I proceeded to do what I do just about every morning...check my phone for the news, Twitter, Facebook and my TimeHop. Within seconds my good mood turned to fear, then shock and disbelief. 

A member of my high school forensics team posted a really sad status regarding his daughter and his daughter's mother. After a little digging and news story hunting I learned the gut-wrenching truth: there was a really bad accident and it claimed five lives. I knew two of them. 

Also a member of my high school forensics team as well as student government and many committees is Ebony. She was our valedictorian. She is one of three sisters. Her mother worked at my dentist. Her older sister was always nice when I spoke to her. Her younger sister was on the forensics team. I remember when her younger sister was pregnant with her first child. I enjoyed trolling Facebook and watching this little girl grow up. Then the younger sister was pregnant with her second child. Little did I know, her older sister was also pregnant. 

Ebony's older sister Zarissa, younger sister Regina, Regina's two children...7 year old Jordan and 3 month on Jonathan, and Regina's boyfriend/Jonathan's father were killed in a horrible car accident in the early hours of January 10th on Route 50 in Maryland. They were headed to Zarissa's baby shower in Baltimore when they collided with a tractor trailer. The tractor trailer rolled over top of their car, killing everyone instantly except...according to news reports....Zarissa who was rushed to the hospital. She died there with her unborn daughter, Zoe. 

I spent the day trying to process this loss. I thought about Ebony and her parents losing so many loved ones all at once. I thought about Jordan's dad. I thought about Regina's boyfriend's family. I thought about Jordan's classmates. I thought about all of the people waiting to celebrate the baby shower for Zoe. I couldn't shake the numb and unsettling feeling all day. I felt like I was in a vacuum. I couldn't focus. 

I knew there was nothing I could do but pray for the family and send kind words. One thing I was able to do was correct the spelling of Zarissa's name on NBC10's webpage. I contacted the journalists who wrote up the story (it didn't take long for it to make national news) and told then that Zerissa is the incorrect spelling, regardless what official sources say. They corrected it. I also corrected a blunt comment on an ABC national news site and the poster removed the comment. 

I knew I couldn't spend the day in bed reading and rereading people's reactions to the news, the news stories, and feeling the overall hopelessness that comes when tragedies like this occur. I went out to run errands and go to the gym. On my way to the bank I came across a wedding photo shoot in Rittenhouse Square. It struck me...on a day where five people had died and hundreds were mourning, here was a couple celebrating what may just be one of the happiest day of their lives. What a juxtaposition. 

Many lessons are learned from this. Such as "life is short" and "live fully" and "it can happen in an instant." But most of those lessons are really harsh. They also make you question your life and personal happiness. If something were to happen to you tomorrow and today was your last day on earth, would you feel satisfied? Are you happy right now? 

Until next time...

May the souls of the faithful departed through the mercy of God, Rest in Peace.