Y is for Youth

I’ve always been vastly curious about how old people perceive themselves. My theory is: We all reach a certain age and don’t really “grow” more mentally. Maybe our thought processes change slightly, but there’s a point in time where we all stop aging.

My theory for myself? I think I was nineteen. At that point I had already experienced a lot in my life and no major changes happened. Sure, I’ve grown older and changed slowly over time, but I’m pretty sure that was the year where things really stopped surprising me. In fact, maybe I could push it to 21, but that’s as far as I could go.

I haven’t felt an internal shift really since then. No big “Ah ha!” moments or crazy realizations. It makes me wonder if that’s why everyone around me still seems like they are “my age” even if we are ten years apart? Has youth and age stopped mattering because I’ve reached the point of “no return” where your innocence is truly gone and you are solely responsible for yourself?

Yes, I think I have. And I have another question: Is youth really wasted on the young?

I don’t think so. When I was younger (and didn’t have to worry about pre-cancerous cells, spinal arthritis, or panic attacks), I did gymnastics, I danced my little heart out, and I ran circles around everyone. I pushed my body constantly to prove that I was better than the boys at my school. I was excited, innocent, and perfectly content.

I think I held up my youth pretty well. I think I still hang onto it most days. When someone asks about the scar on my shoulder, I can cheerily reply, “Oh, I totally beat pre-cancer.” I plaster a massive grin on my face. Was it scary? Sure! But no scarier than when I had meningitis in second grade. The difference? I was seven and had no idea what was happening. Now? I can say “I won. I’ve won multiple times.”

I don’t think you can really win life or youth or love. But I think a part of me did each of the times that I’ve come out okay. Who cares if I have spinal arthritis?! I’ll still do cartwheels around you (on my good days). On my bad days? Give me my awesome looking cane that scares the crap out of my cats. I’ll grin at anyone that looks at me funny.

Oh yeah, I have this one fatal flaw: I laugh hysterically when I’m in pain. Honest to goodness, most people don’t believe me when I say I’m in pain because I start laughing.

It’s pretty awesome.

In conclusion: I’m 21… or 19… whichever I feel like at the time. How youthful are you? What battles have you gone through that have tried to make you not youthful?

X is for Xtraordinary

Last honeymoon update until I get home. Maui has been extraordinary and fantastic to my husband and I. Staying in Waikiki was fun, but we loved getting away from the tourists and heading to Maui.

We leave for Kauai today, and the last island in our trip, but Maui will have a special place in my heart.

I've had this huge life goal of swimming with wild sea turtles. I'm not sure with this extra affection came to be, but it did at some point in my life. I kind of love everything that moves - but sea turtles? They are something else.

This guy almost crashed into us. We were looking down at a small eel in the water, and this huge turtle passes inches from my face. It was beautiful. We had already seen two that day, but none of them had been that close.

It was one of the most extraordinary experiences of our honeymoon - and it's not even over yet!

W is for Waikiki

Sorry for being so absent in replies. Those of you that have been reading along know that I'm currently on my
Hawaiian Honeymoon :) I plan to catch up with comments and reading A to Z challenge stuff when I get back.

Hope y'all understand. And until then, here is a picture of a pretty Waikiki sunset.

V is for Virus

This is actually the beginning of The Unanswerables.  The very first scene where Matthew finds out about the virus.

I loosened the tie around my neck when the newscaster was interrupted by that emergency broadcast noise. It immediately said, “This is not a test.” Diane glanced over at me from the kitchen and nodded towards the TV. She continued to cut up broccoli, and I flopped down in front of the television. My son immediately scooted across the floor with his train set in hand and rammed it into my polished shoes. I smiled, reached down, and patted his head. He turned four next week, and he was getting to be very precarious, though he still didn’t talk much.

The television flickered and the newscaster, Tim McGarth, was back on screen. He looked pale, as if during the interruption he had seen death itself. I leaned forward and tossed my tie onto the armrest. Diane hated when I did that, but I didn’t want to miss whatever he had to announce – it looked important.“Folks, I have just received news that there has been a deadly virus…” he paused to swallow. “That has broken out in all major cities across the globe.”

The room spun. I couldn’t have heard that right. The stifling air in my New York apartment was probably getting to my head. I glanced outside. The sun was nearly set over the horizon, casting long shadows from each of the buildings. The city looked fine.

“It is unknown exactly what the virus is, or how it is spreading, but it seems that only the major cities have been infected. As such, New York is now in a state of quarantine. As is Los Angeles –“ I stopped listening. I stared at the screen and watched his mouth move, but all sounds stopped. I looked down at my son, who grinned up at me. His white baby teeth reflected what was left of the natural light.

“Diane?” I said. I took off my polished shoes and tossed them aside on my way to our galley kitchen. She stood over the stove, her blonde hair getting caked across her forehead with the steam from the… whatever she was making. “Diane, I think something’s wrong.”

She narrowed her eyes at me, “Don’t tell me, you put your tie on the couch again and it slid into the seats.” Diane’s face lit up, grinning at the teasing joke.

I frowned. I opened my mouth to explain and a large rumble was heard overhead that shook the whole apartment. The china in our cabinets jingled as it vibrated against each other. Keegan came running in and wrapped his arms around his mother’s legs, almost toppling her over. His blonde hair almost disappeared inside the apron.

“Keegan, what have I told you about-“ Diane began after she steadied herself, but she glanced at my face and stopped. “What’s happening?” She put down the spatula and shut off the stove, picking up Keegan in one scoop. He nuzzled into her neck and mumbled something. “Now, now, it’s okay.”

We walked over to the television, where Tim McGarth was sweating profusely. I couldn’t tell if it was because of the hot lights, or because he was still in shock. I felt that way. “He said there was a virus.” My voice got small at the last word, almost unwilling to admit that it was real.

U is for Unfinished

I'm curious how many of you have unfinished projects?  I have a ton (as you can see from my not-so-up-to-date WIP bar).

If you had two days, where you were completely inspired and had all the time to write, what projects would you work on?  Heck, if you had two days to do anything what would you do?

I've been feeling a tad overwhelmed by how many projects I have, but I've decided to keep this post short and sweet.  Let me know what you are up to, what projects do you want to complete?

T is for Truth and Trust

I’m a pretty awful friend. Truth. But I’m a pretty awesome person. Truth.

My friendship is all based on two things: honesty and trust. Sure, sure, tell me I look good with green eyeliner on when I don’t – that’s fine. Stroke my ego, I don’t care. But I need to trust you when it is really important – I need someone to give me some cold-hard truth. If you can’t do it, then we’re not really friends – are we?

My friendships reach a point where either you are “in for life” or “please pack your knives and go.” (I love Top Chef – there’s another T – random true fact: I did a photo shoot for a free Los Angeles magazine of the executive producers of Top Chef – it was a w e s o m e).

I have a line drawn in the sand constantly with all of my relationships (truth). If you cross it, you will see a whirlwind storm of fury that only a few have witnessed in their life (all have lived to tell about it). But I am wary of people that test that line. They kick it, smudge it, try to cover it up with more sand and pretend it isn’t there. But rarely, very rarely, have people actually crossed it.

But something that will immediately put you on the wrong side? Lying to me. And lying to yourself. I don’t deal well with people that think, “I’m going to hurt Rachel’s feelings if I tell her the truth – so I’m not going to.” Wrong, wrong, wrong. I could explain numerous times where lies hurt ten times worse than the truth. I could explain the webs that people tried to spin and ultimately failed. I will always search for the truth – and I trust that people will hold me equally accountable.

This is not to say that you can’t tell a story. Story-telling and embellishing details is different and fun, but outright lies are not.  ;)