just a small town girl.

…livin’ in a lonely world.

Every so often, a day comes along when I wish that I didn’t live alone.  As I walked up my stairs after another day at the office, I was poignantly aware of the quiet and darkness in the space that is all my own.

Most nights the quiet is a welcome change, a source of rejuvenation, an appropriate contrast to my life outside these walls.  Tonight is a night I wish there was another body in the room, even if just to sit with me and partake in the silence.

After years of being on my own, you’d think I’d be used to these kind of nights.  While being strong and independent has its perks, there is comfort in acknowledging my need and desire for a co-conspirator, a confidante to process the events of the day with me.  I’m wishing there was someone else’s toothbrush next to mine in the bathroom, someone else’s shoes by the door.  Not tonight.  For now it’s just another lonely day.

magic 8 ball.

I remember the days when a game of MASH told me who I would marry, what type of house I would live in, what job I would have and all other sorts of details.  The magic 8 ball would be shaken until the preferred answer to my burning question appeared (yes – definitely!).  Even at a young age, I desired to know what was to become of my life.

With age – and wisdom, of course – our means of prediction should theoretically become more advanced.  As I comtemplated potential changes with a friend this week, we came up with a new method that would provide us a glimpse of our fate.  This is quite groundbreaking, really.  Are you ready for it?  Okay, here it is: a “choose your own adventure” book/DVD of our lives with alternate endings (complete with a sneak preview feature).  Each ending shows us how our life would be impacted by specific decisions that we made.  We watch the various endings and pick the one we like best.  Yes.  Oh, the wonders of what can be devised on G-chat.

Before too many of you get concerned that I’m seriously considering and putting my hope in this strategy, I’ll refrain from elaborating on our other ideas.  I can’t give up all of my secrets in one sitting.

I’ve been reminding myself of wise words that were spoken to me by a wonderful woman a few years ago.  We were discussing a disappointment in my life and, in turn, my desire to know my fate, to know that things would be good again.  She encouraged me to remember that our own omnicscience would diminish the value and need for our faith.  She said to me, “if we knew our future, there would be no need and no reason to have faith.  ‘Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.’”  Her words were simple and true, reminding me of a truth I knew, yet I was struggling to fully embody and embrace it at the time.

The events of my past have made me who I am today – and I would not alter any of them.  I am thankful for the joys and the struggles, for the scars that remind me of what I have overcome, and for those who have been a witness to my life.  I know that the season of life I am in holds many decisions, changes and surprises.  Several of these seem to have the potential to be life-altering and hold various levels of permanence, which makes them a bit more intimidating. 

Oh, life.  You are not what I expected you to be.  And I think that is a good, good thing.

grazie.

It’s getting to be that time of year when we’re reminded to do what we should be doing everyday: be thankful.  One of my favorite memories as a Young Life leader in college was the Slippery Rock tradition of having our Thanksgiving-themed night – we’d talk about thankfulness and everyone there, both leaders and high school students, would write down 40 things that they were thankful for.  It was always quite powerful for me to compose this list and listen as we shared the many ways that our lives had been blessed in the past year.  As we approach Thanksgiving 2009, here’s my list, in no particular order, of what I’m thankful for in my life.

weekend getaways.  my big brother.  cooking for company.  moments when life seems to make sense.  trader joe’s  raw almonds.  afternoons at the winery.  saturday mornings in the strip district.  fresh-cut flowers.  getting lost in a literary masterpiece.  benefitting from the sacrifice of a stranger.  my jetta.  farmer’s markets.  curling up on the couch with a cup of tea.  the aroma of yankee candles.  yoga.  mint chocolate m&ms.  resilience.  beautiful, wonderful friends and family.  sincerity.  shuffling through fallen leaves in autumn.  hindsight.  tough love.  utilizing my abilities in a way that will help someone.  sweet, sweet grace.  witnessing a life being transformed.  friendships that withstand distance and time apart.  walking along the ocean’s edge.  waking up feeling refreshed and rejuvenated.  sundays with ben – especially the ones during football season.  synergy.  my “office moms”.  exploring pittsburgh.  hand-written letters.  strength for today, bright hope for tomorrow.  laughter.  candid photos.  cowboy boots.  iTunes genius mixes.  walking through my quaint little town.  to be loved and accepted.  feeling the warmth of sunshine on my skin.

hermit tendencies.

My life is enriched and enlightened by music.  The many compilation discs I have created over the years serve as a sort of historical preservation of my past, with titles and tracks that signify the milestones and emotions of a particular era.  Some are upbeat and a bit quirky, attesting to my varied taste; others are somber, darker, more contemplative.  Many of these discs are filled with songs that resonate with me, expressing what I struggle to articulate in a coherent fashion.  A handful of my friends are on my “hit list” – when I make a new cd, I send them a copy.  I’m long overdue to fulfill this tradition – please forgive me. 

I’m currently listening to John Mayer’s new album, Battle Studies - to hit stores tomorrow (11.17.09).  Thanks, Rhapsody, for streaming the album.  As always, JM is one of those songwriters whose words resonate with me.  Apparently I’m not the only one – I came across this article about JM and his upcoming album – and absolutely loved this line: “I may as well admit that I’m a sucker for just about anything he’s ever committed to tape.”  I’m with you, Tim.  Guilty as charged.

There’s comfort in music.  I know I’m not alone in having specific artists and albums I turn to that coincide with my mood.  Life has been a bit heavy lately.  I’ve been thinking through some things that have transcendant consequences.  It’s been good, just heavy.  I’m hoping that makes sense…I don’t know how else to put it.  I consider myself so very fortunate to have had conversations with a precious few who are my “sounding boards”, always ready to ask me the right questions, offer insight and advice, and provide support and encouragement.  Their presence has been simply enough to uplift me and remind me I’m not alone; I could sense my hermit tendencies creeping in, yet acknowledging and resisting them has proved to benefit me.  After twenty-four years, maybe I’m learning that bottling up emotion and thought isn’t always the best way to go.

This morning on the way to work, a cd was on cue to play “These are Days” by the 10,000 Maniacs, followed by “Don’t Stop Believing” by Journey and “More Than a Feeling” by Boston.  I think these were good for me to hear today as I started a new week.  I’m truly “blessed and lucky”, I’m “working hard to get my fill, everybody wants a thrill”, and I can lose “myself in a familiar song”. 

Rock on, kids.

don’t stop ’til you get enough.

I’ve had MJ songs running through my head since last night.  I joined the ranks of those who have witnessed This Is It.  The compilation of footage was impressive – mostly from stage rehearsals with a few interviews for good measure.  It reminded me how much I miss my years of dance.  The film showcased Michael not only as an entertainer, but also a kind-hearted, compassionate individual.  As I watched the film, Michael looked so frail, yet he undoubtedly possessed great strength in order to sing and dance for hours on end.  His attention to detail was matchless, his humility and gentleness to those working with him endearing.   Think of him what you will…that’s not where I’m headed.

I saw a man who looked tired, whose sense of responsibility was, at times, overwhelming.  I saw a man who treated others with a sense of dignity and respect.  I saw a man who dreamed of a beautiful world.  I saw a man who gladly shared his gifts and talents with others.  I saw a man who recognized the talents in others, who recognized the value of collaboration and teamwork.

I resonate with these things – and I know others in my life do as well.  I am surrounded daily by people who are burdened by the loads they carry, who press on in hopes of leaving their corner of the world a little bit better than they found it.  It has become my prayer that my hope would exceed my burden, that my sense of responsibility would be matched with support and opportunity. 

…thank God there is rest for the weary.

shipping off to boston.

I used to refer to Boston as the city that stole my brother away from me.  Since my beloved brother has taken residency in Massachusetts, I have come to love the area.  I’ve just returned from a trip to Beantown.  I think it might have been my best yet.  I enjoyed spending time with my brother and his wife, and also properly introducing Ben to my protective big brother.

Our trip started Thursday evening, with a fantastic (and enormous) dinner in Worchester, where the Massachusetts Ortendahls now call home.  We talked, reminisced, and shared great joys with each other.  Friday was a fun-filled day in the city, starting with a tour at the original Samuel Adams brewing facility.  Our guide was hysterical, and clearly enjoyed his job.  The ratio between the tour and the tasting session seemed a bit off (in favor of tasting…not necessarily a bad thing!).  We had a blast.  And we even learned a few things.

barrel of hops.

me and my tasting glass keepsake filled with some boston lager. classic.

The rest of our day was spent wandering around the city, introducing Ben to all that is to be enjoyed in the city of Paul Revere.  We spent Saturday relaxing…the rain gave us an excuse to sleep in, play Wii, order Chinese and watch a movie, and have a day of fun inside.  Sunday (today) was a sad day…the goodbye day.  Melissa had to leave us early, but Dave took Ben and I for one last romp in the city.  We walked through Boston Common and the Public Garden, taking in the beauty of a gorgeous New England autumn day.

me trying to get ben to actually smile for a picture.

brother! he's such a stud.

We took a whirlwind tour of the U.S.S. Constitution/”Old Ironsides” before heading to the airport.  I cried as my brother drove away.  I miss him so.  The few days we were able to spend together were so wonderful.  I’m so glad I was able to share the time not only with him, but also with the sister I never had and the boy who has my heart.

hmmm...

Can’t wait to ship off to Boston again.

the week in review.

Highlights of the week:

Monday (10.5.09).  Joined the elderly of Pittsburgh at the Rivers Casino with my mother.  Won $15.

Tuesday (10.6.09).  Toured Old Economy Village – a National Historic Landmark – in nearby Ambridge, PA, which was home to the Harmony Society starting in 1824.  I saw a cat that looked like my beloved Fred, ate some grapes off the vine, and signed my name with a quill pen.

the harmonists grew grapevines on the sides of their houses. and they made lots of wine. they are my kind of people.

Wednesday (10.7.09).  This was a busy bumblebee day.  And my brother’s 2nd anniversary.  I can hardly remember what I did that day.

Thursday (10.8.09).  Stayed up way too late with a wonderful friend.  Crawled into bed feeling thankful for the people in my life, both new and old.

Friday (10.9.09).  After a long day at work, I got to hug my brother.  We stood on opposite sides of the street in downtown Pittsburgh for awhile until the cars finally let him come over to me.  It was glorious.  The evening was a time of reunions, conversation, and delicious eats at one of my favorite restaurants in Pittsburgh – Church Brew Works.

Saturday (10.10.09).  Was thankful that the sun came out after a chilly and windy start to Homecoming at Geneva.  Ben and I had dinner with a family that we love and are inspired by.  Their hospitality, joy, and kindness was incredibly encouraging.  Finished the day by catching up with old friends and making new friends over Yuengling and Harp.

Sunday (10.11.09).  Day of rest (at least a little).  Feelin’ kinda Sunday…watching football.  One of my teams causes depression (the Bills), and the other causes anxiety (the Steelers).

Here comes a new week.  I hope I’m ready.

you are special.

I’m in the final hours of my golden birthday.  24 on the 24th.  It’s been a pretty sweet day.

The celebrations began around 12:30 this morning…after I finally realized that the ringing doorbell wasn’t in a dream.  I made my way to the door and opened it to find my porch adorned with candles, a beautiful chocolate cake, and five wonderful women serenading me.  We sat around the cake and dug in.  Quite the wake-up call.

The surprises continued as I made my way to work, opening my office to reveal streamers, balloons, and the most beautiful gladiolas.  The day continued with plenty of serenades, hugs, and cards.  I felt loved.  So loved.

The day rounded out with dinner with fantastic friends, complete with a perfect cupcake.  I find myself unbelievably blessed and surrounded by people who give me so much joy.  I feel special.  Thanks to all of you who helped make me feel this way.

twenty-four finds me…

It’s my last night as a twenty-three year old.  Someone told me today that I’m twenty-three going on thirty-two.  I’ll take the added years as a compliment.

Twenty-three was a good year.  I tasted the saltiness of the Pacific and the Atlantic.  I witnessed the uniting of lives.  I devoured my first crustacean.  I took a vacation.  I experienced the beauty of sacrifice.  I found the perfect little black dress.  I talked, laughed, and cried in the presence of wonderful company.  I learned what it means to truly love and support someone.  I enjoyed the satisfaction of creating something with my own two hands.  I discovered the goodness that is Edy’s French Silk ice cream.  I stayed up too late.  I recognized the power and providence of the One who has a hope and a future for me.  I challenged myself.  I lived a blessed and full life.

Here’s to twenty-four being even better…

patience.

…all we need is just a little patience.

Maxima enim, patientia virtus.  ”Patience is the greatest virtue”.  The Latin phrase is a bit more poetic than the normal quip that we are used to hearing from our mothers, our teachers, or those who find delight in tormenting us by witholding information or pleasure.  I’ve always been told that patience is a virtue.  And, thankfully, I’ve found myself to be abundantly blessed with patience.

While I usually count this seemingly inherent trait to be advantageous, at times I wonder if my ability to be patient is really borderline insanity.  Being ever-hopeful and optimistic, looking for the good in all circumstances, and extending patience and understanding to others are all good things.  This I believe to be true.  However, I’ve come to see that, in certain situations and conditions, exhibits of patience and perseverance may actually hinder us.

The past few years  have provided me with countless opportunities to wait with eager anticipation and healthy trepidation.  Many elements of my life now require such patience.  Last night served as a light-hearted reminder of the joys and struggles of patience – in this case, patience related to fanhood.  Yes, I am talking about the Buffalo Bills.  My dad said it best in an email to me this morning: “I had actually gone from the idea that they had at least competed with New England and appeared to be respectable to the national audience to thinking they were actually going to win.  And then…speechless.”  I wholeheartedly concur.  We have been patient for upwards of a decade.  I knew better than to go into the game hoping for a victory.  I just hoped that it wasn’t an utterly embarassing slaughter.  The Bills almost delivered a victory, an upset, a surprise.  Alas, it was too good to be true. 

Other than for victories in my sports-crazed world, I find myself waiting hopefully for things that are arguably a bit more significant.  I am thankful for the peace that patience provides.  I am amazed at the comfort I have in the unknown, and trust it comes from the One who gives peace that transcends all understanding.  I’m encouraged by those around me.  I’m finding that patience is not only a virtue, but a state of mind.