Work/Real Friends

When you start introducing someone as "my friend... who I met at work... but we're, like, real friends. Not just work friends. Real friends," you know you've crossed that unspoken line between professionalism and personal life -- and there's no turning back.

Today marks LJ's last day of working in NYC... the last 3 years and 10.5 months of which have been spent with yours truly.

Yes, it's true -- my co-worker-turned-BFFAEAEAE is making the big move back to Texas to start a brand new adventure in Dallas!

And while I'm so very excited for what's in store for her... to say I'm "an emotional mess" would be a gross understatement.

I'm trying to hold off on anymore tears for now, because I still have 4 whole days of twirly, winky-faced fun before she hops on that one-way flight to DFW. But that doesn't make today any easier... Honestly, the thought of coming to the office tomorrow and not having one of my best friends right down the hall is really... sad. And scary. And... unfathomable.

Who will join me for DDP breaks? And who will send me walrus wakeup texts to make sure I'm up after a near-sleepless Thursday night on the town? And who will I eat a romantic sushi and wine Valentine's Day dinner with after working until 10pm on a Monday... again? And whose office door will I slam closed when I just need to giggle... or, occasionally, cry?

There's a lot to say... and I will. Just... later. Because nearly 4 years of BFFAEAEAE-ship can't be summed up in the 45 minutes that I have left before we head to LJ's Farewell Happy Hour. So instead, I'll just leave you with some happy memories... of the day that we were reunited, along with Jamie, our third musketeer, here at our current agency. It literally seems like just last week and a lifetime ago... all at once:

Sweet Southern Comfort

March 18th, 2009

If you've had a conversation or two with me since I moved to NYC, you've probably heard at least a few of the many tales of adventure/awkward with my co-workers-turned-friends. Since my first day at my first "real" job, I had a feeling I would soon be thanking God for putting Jamie and Lauren in my life. And it wasn't just because they both hailed from below the Mason-Dixon Line (Atlanta and Dallas, respectively). The three of us, well, we just... clicked.

It would take quite a bit of rambling (yes, even more than usual) to recount all of the reasons these girls have helped to make my life in New York as simply fabulous as it is today (and as you'll see, many of the stories have already been detailed for your enjoyment on Lulled and La La La anyways). From Spy Adventures to Wee Mee's to Karaoke to countless hours spent discussing celebs and recapping the previous night's must-see tv, our work days were anything but mundane. (Disclaimer: While we were right on point with our green circled predictions, Jason No Longer = Muffin. GROWL. But that's another rant for another post.)

Needless to say, when the time eventually came for the Showtime Girls to part professional ways (technically for the second time, but we won't speak of The Dark Ages otherwise known as LJ's Eight Month Hiatus...), it could only be summed up as "bittersweet." I know that I for one was anxious to see what the future held, but the idea of not working with two of my best friends every single day?! Two words: womp wooomp.

So it will come as no surprise that my excitement for tomorrow is reminiscent of all those Christmas Eves I counted down the hours until Santa and his reindeer finally landed on my roof. In a strange, wonderful turn of events, tomorrow will mark the day that all three of us are back where we belong - embracing our media nerdiness together. In the same agency.

Love. It.

I have no doubt that our friendship would've easily stood the test of Midtown Separation - Goodness knows we'll always have Brunch Story Worthy Nights - but I am just oh-SO-happy for a return to the days of quarter collecting and puppets.

L.O.V.E.

Love you, LJ... more than any HR Department should allow. Here's to showing the Dallas Media World how we do it in a little place called New York City :)

Happy 5 Years, LJ!

Happy Happy 5 Year New York Anniversary to my beautiful BFFAEAEAEEEEE!

Cheers, my love! So very blessed to have been a part of the last 3 years and 10 or so months of it :)

xoxo

Hot Fudge Sundaes & Duct Tape

I woke up this morning with a random desire to look in the mirror and find my hair had magically turned back to the color it's been the majority of my life... my (nearly) natural shade of blonde. Which is strange, because I've really been loving my little adventure over to the "Dark Side" for the last few months. So at first I chalked up this strange longing for my go to Goldilocks look to the change in weather; a weekend spent in the warm sunshine that has me wishing for summer so badly I can almost taste the Mister Softee. But as the day has gone on, I've realized that there are quite a few other things from summers past that I'm missing more than usual today...

My beach, for one.

Funnel Cakes in South Bethany,

Dolle's Salt Water Taffy.

The feel of hot sand under my feet,

The smell of Coppertone sunscreen - SPF 30, to be exact.

Building sandcastles and searching for sea glass,

Then hot fudge sundaes and chocolate sodas at The Royal Treat.

Late evening walks along the ocean's edge

And running from the cold waves, into familiar open arms.

Waking up to the sound of jazz and NPR coming from an old radio,

Fruit Loops and Trix on the cozy screen porch.

Loose, faded newspaper clippings gathered on the table,

Amidst countless photos of memories over the years.

Marbles and wind-up toys in random corners of the house,

Golden retrievers and Wishbone.

Duct tape, and how it could fix anything.

Ireland, even though I've never been.

Rooting for the Baltimore Orioles,

Or hiding the remote because I wanted to watch cartoons,

And hiding cigarettes... because they're bad.

Extra chocolatey malted milkshakes straight from the blender.

Silvery white hair, topped with a decade-old Winnie the Pooh hat,

And a sparkling personality, with the brightest blue eyes to match.

My grandfather.

So I suppose what I've been missing most today isn't a thing - or a hair color - at all... It's my Papa. Today would have been his 87th birthday, and even though it's been more than five years since he was here to celebrate, I can still close my eyes... and smell pink peppermints and aftershave... and hear his infectious laugh... and admire his strength of character... and be grateful for the life my Grandmom and he made for their family... and feel his overwhelming love.

"You have turned my mourning into joyful dancing.

You have taken away my clothes of mourning and clothed me with joy"

-Psalm 30:11 (NLT)

Happy Birthday Noodle!

A very happiest of birthdays to my lovely and lawyer-ly sister Stephanie, i.e. Noodle (don't ask why that's the nickname that stuck... Goodness only knows where we come up with some of our silliness)!! It's good to see we (or our hairstyles, at least :) ) have come so far over the years...

Since I sadly can't be there to bake you some delicious Betty Crocker Rainbow Chip Cupcakes and frolic around singing songs from Mama Mia! while we are in search of stationary stores, I figured this little diddy would be the next best thing... Please be sure to keep practicing so that we will be ready to grant our mother's wishes and perform it in a Talent Show one day. (True story.) However, I think that you should be adorned in purple feathers. I, obviously, will be in head-to-toe pink:

"Many men have tried to split us up but no one can

Lord help the mister

Who comes between me and my sister

And Lord help the sister

Who comes between me and my man" :)

Happy Happy Birthday, Sister!! I love you and can't wait until our next cross-country play date. xoxo.

The Giving Tree

Shel Silverstein narrating The Giving Tree... This book still makes me happy cry. I love a good happy cry.

Thanks for the find, Nickey!

"Unless the debate is about whether or not it's ever too late for a second chance, I'm not interested."

Not all friendships have to suffer when it comes to talking politics. No, many agree to sometimes disagree on certain issues. Others find common ground through intelligent and respectful discussion. Then there are those who take it a few steps further... say, by making cute puppets of candidates. Or maybe, I don't know... bonding over the reenactment of a particularly hilarious clip on a late night satirical political pundit tv show... in their cubicles... at work... Just a couple of possibilities, I suppose.

After I watched Stephen Colbert call for the suspension of the Presidential Debate right before the Election last year, I came into work the next day still in a fit of giggles. Much to my excitement, Jamie found Colbert's reasoning just as silly and fabulous as I did. After replaying the below clip many, many times, Jamie took to her chair and did the most perfect impersonation of what happens around 02:52...

The Colbert Report	Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c
"Nights in Rodanthe" Premiere
www.colbertnation.com
Colbert Report Full Episodes Political Humor U.S. Speedskating

I won't ever hear Gavin Rossdale crooning "Love Remains the Same" again without picturing Jamie gleefully spinning around on her office chair, with her head thrown back, arms open wide, exclaiming "Ohhh... Oh! I LOVE LOVING!!" Yes, my readers. That is the picture of true friendship.

And tomorrow night, be sure to set your DVRs, because J and I have VIP tickets to the taping of The Colbert Report! I can pretty much guarantee you'll be able to pick our uncontrollable and constant laughter out of the crowd. I really can't think of a more perfect way to commemorate her last week in NYC...

... Oh and that song! Jimmy Jamie, that theme song! Give me another taste!!

Home.

"So, where are you from?"

It's a common enough question. Anyone who meets someone new and continues a conversation for more than a minute or so usually hears it. And I suppose it could be easy enough to answer. But it doesn't always have to be... When you think about it, "Where are you from?" is asking so much more than to simply name a city. To me, those four little words are asking something that goes a lot deeper: Where did you become who you are? Where is your family? Where is it that helped shape you throughout the years? Where is your heart? Where do you call... home?

Where do I call home?

... Montana, and its miles and miles of awe-inspiring land and towering, untouched mountains. Montana is rolling hills leading to a far-off horizon. Montana is the sort of place that has the power to make you stop in your tracks and praise God for His beautiful creation. Montana is where I was born. Montana is where my dad grew up and eventually met my mom. It's where they fell in love. Montana is where much of my family still lives. Montana is Hot Fudge Banana Nut Whips at Dairy Queen with my cousins. It's beading and scrap-booking and causing all sorts of trouble with my aunts. It's winters of snow drifts that reach up to the roof, and it's sunshine reflecting off the creek in the summer. Montana is picking apples at Grandpa Art's, and feeling so cozy by the fire in his log cabin-y house. Montana is big family dinners (and breakfasts, and lunches...) at Grammy's, filled with delicious treats and generations of laughter. Montana is home.

... Delaware, and a perfect little cottage on Indian Street in South Bethany, right across from the ocean. Delaware is countless happy summers with my grandparents. Delaware is splashing in the waves at my beach and walking the boardwalk after our trips to the Royal Treat. It's watching my little cousins stare out at the ocean with stars in their eyes, and knowing exactly how they feel. It's the wonderful fact that the Wiffle Ball Toss and the Teacup Ride at Funland will never get old. Delaware is where I painted my hair pink as a mischievous toddler when my Papa wasn't looking. It's where I gathered sea glass with my Grandmom, and helped her piece together a quilt that she would eventually finish and surprise me with 10 years later. Delaware is their house on Horseshoe Drive, every corner filled with our drawings and pictures from over the years. It's talking in the early mornings over Froot Loops and the humid nights on the screened porch, wishing our visit could last forever. Delaware is where I experienced the true heartache of watching someone you love slip away. But Delaware is also where I learned how to find comfort knowing that they're with Him now, and that I never actually lose the people who are so close to me - not really. Delaware is home.

... Washington, and its bustling Seattle suburb - Issaquah. Issaquah is where I grew up. Issaquah is where I spent 13 years in a sunshine-yellow bedroom in Brookshire on the Plateau. Issaquah is Discovery Elementary, Pine Lake Middle, and Skyline High. Issaquah is 10 years of piano lessons, and it's bike rides through the forest with Mariah, the most lovable and loyal dog a family could ask for. Issaquah is Friday night football games followed by trips to Red Robin for bottomless fries. Issaquah is Saturday nights in Seattle, racing back home to beat curfew. It's cheering on the Mariners with my dad in the Kingdome as they clinched the A.L. West Championship in 1995 (and why I'll never truly be a die-hard Yankees fan, I suppose). Issaquah is curling up on my mom's lap, as she reads to me from The House at Pooh Corner and The Little Witch. It's a pantry wall, with pencil marks that tell the story of Steph and I growing up through the years, and the excitement I had when my mark finally passed hers. It's childhood friends who I can go months without talking to, and it's still like no time has passed at all when we meet for a night of dinner and wine. Issaquah is where I first discovered His saving Grace. Issaquah is my first dance, my first straight A's, my first job, my first car, my first kiss. Issaquah is home.

... Texas, and its Horned Frogs at TCU in Fort Worth. Texas is where I found the independence I thought I was ready for, and soon realized that maybe I wasn't so grown-up after all. Texas opened my eyes and mind to new opinions, and helped me figure out exactly why it is that I believe what I believe. Texas brought me four years of learning - both in the classroom and out of it. It's where I went to my first rodeo, held (but didn't shoot!) my first gun, ate my first chicken-fried steak. Texas is where I spent 2 1/2 years living in the room above the awning at the Theta House in The Greek. Texas is theme parties and formals and tailgates and Spring Breaks. It's where I spent many sleepless nights - studying? Yes, but more important were the nights spent with my friends, laughing into the morning and making memories I wouldn't trade for anything. Texas is where I found the friends who have been with me through some of the happiest, and some of the most daunting, chapters of my life. It's where I finally realized that I could do more than dream big dreams - I could actually make them come true. Texas is where my parents live now, making it pull at my heart even more when I'm away. Texas is home.

... New York, and the city that never sleeps. New York is where I risked it all. New York is where I thought I'd spend a year or two, where I thought I'd just have a little adventure before going back to a "real" life. But New York is the place that captured my heart. New York is where I'm supposed to be. New York is Apostles Church, a community that loves the Lord and this city, and supports and challenges me in my faith. New York is long aimless walks through the Village that always seem to end with cupcakes. It's dates that I swear must have been written for one of my favorite sappy romantic comedies. New York is the advertising and entertainment industries, and the feeling I get every time I see my clients' campaigns lining the streets that makes all the late nights seem like a small price to pay. It's bumping into celebrities on the corner, brunches that last all day, and Broadways shows on a Wednesday, just because we can. New York is dreaming of the day that I can live on Gramercy Park, but loving my cute little apartment because for me, for right now, it's perfect. New York is watching each season's beauty come and go to Central Park. New York is painful, as I make dear friends, and then say goodbye. But New York is also knowing that we'll stay close across the miles and that we still have plenty more adventures in store. New York can be hard, really hard, but New York is worth it. New York is sitting on the East River as I write this, watching dusk settle in and turn the sky a perfect mix of pink, yellow, and blue. New York is home.

P.S. This post is part of a "Blog Carnival." Today, some blogger friends and I all writing something about "home." No other guidelines, just our thoughts on "home" - fun, right? You can find links to the rest of the bloggies at the end of this post, so be sure to check everyone out. Happy reading!

My Country Music Memory Lane

What do you get when you combine Taylor Swift and Reckless Kelly on a Pandora station, you ask? 

Well, as I found out at work today, I was apparently asking for a serious trip down my very own Country music memory lane. One second I was in NYC working on a campaign presentation, then suddenly...

If I am truly crazy

Don't you know I like my life that way?

And if I'm really going on out of my mind

Won't you hop on board and make your getaway?

... I was swept away to my freshman year at TCU - where I first discovered Texas Country, more specifically Pat Green (Thanks Miss Meredith, a.k.a. Dot! :) ). To this day, "Crazy" is one of my very favorite songs. It still makes me go weak in the knees with all of the memories that come flooding back from that first year in Texas... Then...

Do you love me? Do you wanna be my friend?

And if you do, well then don't be afraid to take me by the hand

If you want to.

I think this is how love goes, check yes or no.

... I was 14 years old, sitting in Courtney's room, complaining about her radio choice of KMPS, one of Seattle's two Country music stations. A slave to the recent Boy Band/Britney craze, I refused to give Country a chance. That is, until I heard George Strait come on and sing one of the sweetest love stories I'd ever imagined. As he told the story of a little note asking him to "Check Yes or No"... I knew Country had me hooked. And suddenly...

Seventeen only comes once in a lifetime

Don't it just fly by wild and free

Goin' any way the wind blew, baby

Seventeen, livin' on crazy dreams

Rock and roll and faded blue jeans

And standing on the edge of everything

Seventeen

... I was back on a Maui beach during my junior year of high school, listening to Tim McGraw's "A Place in the Sun" album on repeat in my Discman. Sure, growing up in Seattle, I might not have ever actually let my legs hang off the Bayou Bridge or fed fish potato chips, but there was just something about "Seventeen." With that one song, I felt like Tim was almost writing the current chapter of my life - I was seventeen, rather hopelessly smitten with a certain boy, and as I recall, the stars really did seem to go off like fireworks...

And with that, I was pulled back to the present and the reality of my looming deadlines. Luckily I had my good friends Taylor and Reckless, providing a familiar and happy soundtrack to take me through the afternoon.

There are some times where good old-fashioned country music is still the best thing in the world.

-Jay DeMarcus, Rascal Flatts