Tag Archives: relationships

Roles

“Actors do tend to get pigeonholed. People want to know who you are so they can put you in a box. It’s lovely to be known for such diametrically opposite roles.”
– Tom Hiddleston

I was just sitting here reflecting over last weekend at Oz (read that blog here if you missed it) and something dawned on me.

This has been a year of some awesome roles for me. (And quite diverse ones, at that!)

I’ve been an actor for a long time, and it just occurred to me that most of my very favorite roles and on-stage moments have happened in 2013. This has been quite a year!

Here are a few examples:

Started the year off as Elvis. Yep, you read that right. Elvis.

Ok, so I was a country hick trailer park chick dressed up as Elvis for the “Elvis and Jesus: A Tribute to the Kings” nativity scene. In July. In Florida. (Did ya get all that?) Oh yeah, you have to check this play out if you’ve never heard of it. Radio T.B.S. It’s a hoot. And, incidentally, this was the first time I’ve ever received an ovation mid-show. My Heartbreak Hotel was apparently awesome. Or….hilariously bad. Eh, either way, they clapped. Booyah.

Next?

“Mother” in the show Life With Father.

Pretty awesome role. Even got to do a TV interview for it. (Read that blog here if you’re interested.) Yep, very cool stuff.

Then, I got to play a flooz.

You just can’t beat that. (Gloria Rasputin in Bye, Bye, Birdie.) Even had to tap dance and do a split. Well. Sort of…

And then last weekend, as my regular readers know, I got to be both the Wicked Witch and Glinda, the Good Witch of the North, at the Autumn at Oz festival in Beech Mountain, North Carolina.

Yep. As you can see, this has been a year that I have stepped “out of the box” somewhat. I have been blessed with these varied roles and have enjoyed every minute of becoming someone completely different each and every time I’ve donned a new costume. And, not to toot my own horn or anything, but I’ve actually enjoyed watching myself blossom as an actress as I’ve stepped into these roles. I wasn’t so sure I had it in me, but apparently I do. I’ve been kinda proud of myself. How about that?

Pretty cool stuff.

But you know what’s even cooler? Knowing that at the end of the day, after the costumes are neatly put away and silence drowns out the applause, I get to step into a few even better roles.

This one, for example:

“Of all the roles I’ve played, none has been as fulfilling as being a mother.”
– Annette Funicello

I get to be these awesome teenagers’ mom. How freakin’ cool is that? Just like all of the other roles I’ve been blessed with, this is another one that I wasn’t sure I would know how to play. And sometimes I still falter, sometimes I don’t always follow the script or get my lines right, but all-in-all I think I’ve managed to do a pretty darn good job. I sure have some awesome little co-stars, that’s for sure.

All it takes is to turn on the radio or the TV and within minutes you are hearing some new horror story about the awful things teenagers are into these days. Each time this happens, I say a silent little prayer and thank my lucky stars that I have the kids I have. Now, I’m not saying they’re perfect – far from it – but the problems that we have are just normal, everyday problems. Nothing drastic and severe like some poor parents have to go through. I hope my kids know how proud I am of who they are, and who they are becoming. And I hope the role I’ve played in their lives has had a little something to do with that. I like to think it does.

Another role I’m pretty blessed with?

Being the one this guy loves.

“If you age with somebody, you go through so many roles – you’re lovers, friends, enemies, colleagues, strangers; you’re brother and sister. That’s what intimacy is, if you’re with your soul mate.”
– Cate Blanchett

My gosh, I sure do love this dude. We have been through many phases in our relationship – and I think that’s why the above quote speaks to me so much. We’ve been all of those to each other at some point, and we just keep going strong.

When it comes to love, I’ve tried out quite a few roles. I tried being the submissive wife. I’ve tried being the girlfriend who gives up everything she really loves to try to keep the peace. I’ve tried sacrificing who I am to make someone else happy. None of these roles seemed to fit.

And now I know why.

“I’ve had disappointments and heartbreaks and setbacks and roles I didn’t get, but something always came along that either made me better or was an even better role.”
– Lee Majors

Finally, I get to play the best role I’ve ever played.

Myself.

It has taken me a long, long time to finally get to enjoy this role. Took some trial and error, I admit. But finally, finally, I think I’ve figured out this role pretty well. And it sure is nice to be allowed to play it.

I think I’m right where I belong.

This is the role I’ve been waiting for.

Are you playing the role you’re meant to play? Make sure you are. Life is just too short for anything else. Trust me.

***

“To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.”
– Ralph Waldo Emerson

Posted by Melissa Edmondson. Categories: Freestyle Writings/Musings. Tags: acting, blog, blogging, change, dating, family, friendship, heart, heartbreak, inspiration, inspirational, love, mother, motivation, motivational, parenting, passion, performance, plays, problems, Quotes, relationships, roles, theatre, writing. 3 Comments

Sep. ’13

A Thousand Words

“A good snapshot keeps a moment from running away.”
– Eudora Welty

I have a friend who is a photographer. And a great one, too.

(Hey, wanna check out her stuff? Her name is Iman Woods. Click here for her new family photography Facebook page, and here for her pin-up photograph website. You can also click here to check out her blog. Her stuff kicks butt.)

So, yeah. Photography is her thing. And that’s awesome. She uses photos to capture a story. And each one does just that. And quite beautifully, I might add. After all, she’s an artist.

Me, on the other hand? While I love photos, and never hesitate to snap them whenever I can, my ‘art’ is a little different. We’re all artists, you know. All of us. We just have to find our medium. My medium? Words. Without the talent to capture photographs or to paint or to draw, etc. etc., I fall back on the art that I think I have discovered that I’m somewhat good at. And that is creating an image in people’s minds using the written word.

This weekend, however? This weekend was a different story.

This weekend I have discovered a new appreciation for Iman’s work. Because sometimes, it’s the picture that tells the story all by itself…and no words are able to do it justice. Sometimes you just have to show people what your words cannot seem to adequately express.

A few of you regular readers may remember a blog I posted a while back about my premature twin nieces entitled Week-Old Miracles. Well, this weekend, I got to spend a few days with those now six-month-old miracles. And while I’m no photographer by any means, please take a look with me at the mixture of humorous and touching moments that have touched my heart over the past few days with these little angels. And check out some of the lessons I’ve learned along the way as well.

Photo Lesson #1:

Watching this:

…turn to this:

is a very beautiful thing. Wow.

Photo Lesson #2

Not many things in this ol’ world will fill your heart with as much love as filling your arms with twin babies.

Photo Lesson #3

Watching a teenager bond with a baby makes your heart smile.

Photo Lesson #4

Ditto.

Photo Lesson #5

Sleeping with a baby in your arms is a very peaceful feeling. (And having your teenage daughter think to take a picture of it is a pretty sweet deal in and of itself.)

Photo Lesson #6

Not many things in this world are as sweet or as enduring as a mommy’s love.

Six months ago:

Now:

Photo Lesson #7

Watching grandma dress a baby after a bath is so darn cute.

Photo Lesson #8

Babies haven’t quite yet learned to mask their facial expressions. When it’s the first time they’ve ever met someone, you’re gonna know it.

Photo Lesson #9

It sure doesn’t take a baby long to decide you’re pretty cool…

(And p.s.: Hearing your boyfriend refer to himself as “Uncle Richard” to your niece, gives you a feeling of “rightness” that words can’t begin to express.)

Photo Lesson #10

Duck face pictures are stupid. Unless they’re done with a 6-month-old. Then, they rock.

Photo Lesson #11

If you’re an adult, you should live your life in such a way that you’re caught in the background of a picture playing at a playground all by yourself.

(*giggle* That’s Richard back there. Bless him.)

Photo Lesson #12

It’s impossible to look at this and not smile.

See? Smiled, didn’t ya?

Photo Lesson #13

The smile on your face while holding a baby can’t possibly be faked.

Photo Lesson #14

Witnessing your Alzheimer’s-ridden grandmother meeting her twin great-granddaughters for the first time is a moment that makes your heart climb into your throat.

Photo Lesson #15

Seeing that grandmother with a smile on her face again, after what seems like forever since you’ve seen it, is a moment that makes you know that some things never change. My grandmother is beautiful.

My aunt Joyce commented on one of my photos on Facebook with, “Thanks for letting us live your day in pictures!” I hope this blog allowed you to do that – and hopefully helped you to see what I saw. To feel what I felt. Maybe it might even make you turn around and look at your own family, your own little miraculous works of art in your life. And maybe it will make you get down on your knees and thank your lucky stars that you’re alive. You’re alive. You know? Get out there and capture these moments. before they slip by.

After all, you only get one shot.

***

““The Earth is Art, The Photographer is only a Witness ”
– Yann Arthus-Bertrand

Posted by Melissa Edmondson. Categories: Freestyle Writings/Musings. Tags: babies, blog, family, inspiration, inspirational, motivation, motivational, photographer, photography, photos, pictures, Quotes, relationships, snapshots, teenagers, twins, words, writing. 5 Comments

Sep. ’13

Luck

“Any fool can have bad luck; the art consists in knowing how to exploit it.”
– Frank Wedekind

Luck.

Ok, so you know those people, right? The ones who seem to have everything going for them. Who seem to skate through life with no noteworthy negativity [How do you like that alliteration??]. Everything just seems to go their way without them even having to lift a finger. *sigh* Must be nice. As some of my graceful, elegant family members used to describe it, “They walk around like they have a horseshoe stuck up their butt.”

(Ok, maybe “butt” wasn’t exactly their choice of words…but I digress…)

Well, me? Yeah, I am NOT one of those people. Especially when it comes to vehicles. While those people get to have horseshoes stuck up there, I apparently have an albatross that climbs up mine every time I get behind the wheel of a vehicle.

Now, maybe blaming it on luck isn’t exactly fair. I’m sure some of it may have to do with my own carelessness. Maybe. But seriously, a lot of it just really isn’t my fault. Really.

Let’s look at the past five months, shall we?

Some of my regular followers may remember that I had an accident back in April. I totaled my car. (Missed that blog? Want the gruesome details? Click here.)

[Ugh…ok, I’m lying. There aren’t any ‘gruesome’ details. That was just a shameless plug of an old blog to get you to read it. I’m a jerk…]

Anyhoozle…

So, I totaled my car. And that sucked. Yes, I guess you could say that was my ‘fault’ (at least my new insurance premium screams that loud and clear), but in my defense, a freak, unexpected winter storm hit us out of the blue while I was on the road. A new layer of snow on a curvy road doesn’t make for the most favorable road conditions. So, fault or no fault, I guess you could say a little bad luck was at play. That is, if you believe in that kind of thing. I call my boyfriend Richard and he comes and picks my car-less self up and takes me home to take care of me. (Awww.)

So, fast forward a few days. I finally feel able to drive again. (Now, nothing was all that wrong physically, mind you, other than my slight concussion – it was more of a mental barrier to wanting to drive again after flipping down a rocky bank…) That sweet, wonderful boyfriend of mine and his generous mom offer me a spare family vehicle to drive until I get the insurance stuff straightened out and get another car of my own, and I gratefully accept their offer.

So, here we go. Vehicle #2.

The *first* day I get behind the wheel of this borrowed car to drive to work, I’m about ten miles from home and out of nowhere comes a turkey. Yes, a turkey.

A TURKEY.

[**Note. This is not the actual turkey. But this is an accurate portrayal of the look that was on the little jerk’s face as he barreled towards me.]

He side swipes me and…rips off the driver’s side mirror.

Are you freakin kidding me??

Yep. A turkey just tore up my borrowed vehicle. So, of course I make what I feel like is the hardest call I’ve ever had to make to Richard and, through my tears, ‘fess up. And what does he do? Laughs. A lot. It’s not funny!! I borrow a vehicle and break it in the first ten minutes! How is that funny?? Still. He laughs.

Oh, he thinks that’s funny, huh? Let’s fast forward another two weeks. Really. Two tiny little weeks later, I’m driving along in the same borrowed car, now complete with a brand new driver’s side mirror, and what happens? I turn the wheel to the left going around a curve and…ready for this?…it FALLS OFF. I’m not exaggerating!! Ok, I’m exaggerating a little bit. It didn’t completely come off. But it fell over. Apparently this is known as a tie rod end breaking. Call it what you want, but I call it “Oh crap!” (And again, maybe crap wasn’t the actual word being used, but no point in digressing yet again…)

So, here comes call #3 to Richard. (If you’re keeping track, call #1 was totaling my own car. Call #2 was the turkey. And now call #3 is telling him his wheel fell off. And this is all within a matter of 2-3 weeks. *sigh*) He didn’t laugh as much this time. But he did have to come get me. Again.

Well, after some pretty hefty repair work and Richard driving me to work every day in the interim, I manage to drive his car for a few more weeks without anything else falling off. And eventually I am even finally able to get the insurance mess worked out and get a car of my very own. Yay! After the first few days of a random ‘check engine’ light malfunction (don’t EVEN tell me there’s no such thing as bad luck…), the dealership got everything taken care of and all was well. Smooth sailing with Vehicle #3…

Until today.

Trash pickup day.

Now, most of you know I am a runner. I just ran 8+ miles yesterday while working my way up to my second half marathon in November. You read that, right? I ran EIGHT miles yesterday. But you know what I apparently can’t do? Walk my trash down to the end of my driveway. Ugh. It’s sooooo far. (Read that with your internal whiny voice, because that’s exactly how I just said it.) Nope. That 100-foot walk to the end of my driveway is apparently too much for this chick. Instead, I feel the need to drive it down and drop it off as I leave for work. And, well, it’s a bag. Of trash. I don’t want to put that nasty thing in my cute little car. Gross. So, what do I do?

I leave my driver’s side door propped open and back down the driveway holding the bag of trash out of the car. You with me? You got the mental image? You see me backing down a slight declined driveway holding a bag of trash out of my door? Ok, now picture a huge mound of dirt that I forgot was there. And then picture my drivers side door catching on that mound of dirt. Picture me not noticing and continuing to back down the driveway…and picture my door bending BACKWARDS and practically breaking completely off.

Seriously?? SERIOUSLY?

Call #4. “Richard? Um. I just broke my door off of my car…”

*sigh*

Goodbye, Goldie Sue. (It’s a gold Subaru. Isn’t that name clever? Yeah, like that matters to this story…)

So, here we are again. Richard had to come and get me and take me to the same borrowed vehicle from before and once again save the day by giving me something to drive to work until I get mine repaired.

Story should end there, huh?

Oh no. Not for Melissa.

On the way home today, the passenger side mirror on the borrowed vehicle that had been just a tad loose all along, decided to go ahead and snap all the way off. Of course it happens while I’m driving it.

Call #5. “Um, Richard? You know that mirror that was loose? It just broke off. But it’s NOT MY FAULT….”

Wow.

I’m betting not many of you are going to want to ride with me after reading this blog, huh? Well, join the club.

Hey, at least I have one living creature that will still come along for the ride…

Bless her heart.

Well, there you have it. Confessions of a Bad Driver, Volume One. I’m sure there will be plenty more to come….

Hey, if you can’t laugh at yourself, what can you do? You know? Yes, I have some seriously bad luck when it comes to vehicles. That albatross has apparently found a nice comfy home.

But you know what? That bad luck only applies to vehicles. Because look at the rest of my life. Look at this story alone. I have a wonderful, patient man who is always there to help me pick up the crazy pieces of my chaotic life and calmly put them all back together. I walked away from a totaled car with barely a scratch, I have a cute little dog (ok, it’s the neighbor’s but she doesn’t realize that) who loves to go along on car rides with me, and I have wonderful readers who read this blog and come along on this crazy ride and laugh right along with the silly happenings of my never-a-dull-moment life.

Hmmm.

Maybe I’m actually a pretty lucky lady after all.

Well. That is, if you believe in that kind of thing…

***

“Not many people have had as much bad luck as I have, but not many people have had as much good luck, either.”
– Tig Notaro

Posted by Melissa Edmondson. Categories: Freestyle Writings/Musings. Tags: accident, bad luck, blog, car, change, comedy, dog, flaws, friendship, good luck, humor, inspiration, love, luck, motivation, photos, problems, Quotes, relationships, runner, vehicles, wreck, writing. 6 Comments

Sep. ’13

Instigator

in·sti·ga·tor: a person who brings about or initiates something.

I’m an instigator.

Now, I know that the first thought that pops into your head when you hear that word is a negative one. And it’s true – that word can be, and usually is, seen in a negative light. I’m well aware that I probably fit a lot of the characteristics of the negative aspects of this word (as many people in my life will tell you – well, assuming those people are still in my life at all after this blog….), but I don’t really want to concentrate on the negative connotation of the word right now.

Look at the definition I posted above. An instigator is not necessarily someone who starts “problems” per se. No, it’s someone who ‘brings about something.’ While yes, that can be something negative, I don’t think that’s all that it means. It just means the person who gets the ball rolling. Who makes things start. Not just bad things – any ‘things.’

Well, by golly, that’s me.

As the oldest of six (yes, six) kids, it has always sort of fallen on my shoulders to be the ‘leader,’ so to speak. I was substantially older than my next sibling, so I was always somewhat of a second mom to them more than just an older sister. There was no one to baby me, or do things for me – I was the one doing things for everyone else. Unfortunately, that trait has followed me into adulthood. As a mother, of course, that trait is necessary. You have to do things for others – it’s your job. But as my kids are starting to get older, I have a confession to make.

I’m sick of this.

I am. I’m just flat out sick of it. I no longer “have” to do things for them anymore, but I still do. Because it’s ingrained in my brain. And sadly, it doesn’t just stay at home in the areas of motherhood. It spills out into all of my life.

A friend get-together? You betcha I’m the one who arranged it. A family outing with the boyfriend and kids? Yep, my idea. An email checking on a friend you hadn’t heard from in a while? Never the recipient, always the sender.

I picture in my mind all of the little spirits or souls or whatever you call them, all standing in line waiting to be placed into bodies. God (or whoever) calls out, “Ok, listen up! All of you who want to be ‘go getters’ stay where you are. If you want to be the one who is always in control of everything – who always does all the work as far as emotional relationships are concerned – and who never gets to just relax and let someone else take the reigns – you’re in the right line. Now, the rest of you – the ones who want to just kick back and relax all through life and know that someone else will take care of everything and you won’t have to lift a finger to make it happen – yeah, you guys move over into a line to the left. But, hurry – spaces are limited.” You know what happened to my little spirit/soul thingy? It had every intention of running over the line at the left, but someone behind me tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Did you hear that? I wasn’t listening.” And while I took the time to explain to the little irresponsible soul thingy what had been said, I missed my spot in line. And you know who got it? The little twerp who wasn’t listening.

Story. Of. My. Life.

So, here I am. The one who does everything.

Am I feeling sorry for myself by writing this blog? Am I whining? Am I complaining?

You bet your ass I am.

Why? Because I’m tired. So incredibly tired.

How late is too late to switch teams? Can I get a do-over? Hey, keeper of the soul thingies, can we go back and try again?? Can I have another chance?

I know, without a doubt, that there are relationships in my life (I can count a bunch of them right now) that would fizzle and disappear if I stopped making them happen. If I just decided that I’m going to kick back and let someone else do all the work with regards to communication and plans for get-togethers and all of that other relationship ‘maintenance,’ those people would disappear from my life completely. There’s not a doubt in my mind.

I was speaking to someone about this very topic and they commented with an interesting story. She said she had a friend that would fall in this category I just described. Once, they had somewhat of a disagreement. After the disagreement, she decided that for just this once, she was going to let the friend be the one to make the call to try to mend things. And you know what?

Seven years later, she’s still waiting on that call.

I don’t want to play this game anymore. I’m so tired of making things happen. I need a change.

Yes, I know I generally try to keep these blogs positive. But someone forgot to put her Happy Pants on today. Sorry about that. It’s just that sometimes – you really need to step back and take stock. Realize that all of this one-sidedness isn’t fair.

Realize that enough is enough.

That time has come. I need a break.

***

“There comes a time when you have to stop crossing oceans for people who wouldn’t jump puddles for you.”
– Anonymous

Posted by Melissa Edmondson. Categories: Freestyle Writings/Musings. Tags: blog, break, complaint, friendships, instigator, relationships, tired, writing. 4 Comments

Sep. ’13

Um, what?

Relationships.

Shewwww. I could sit here and blog for days about that topic and you and I both would still be just as confused as we were before I ever started rambling. And the same goes for any other blogger or self-help book author or psychologist or preacher…or WHOEVER. You know why? Because NO ONE understands this mess. No one.

Oh, you may think you do. You may be floating along in your relationship bliss thinking you have it allll figured out, silently looking down your snooty little “look at me, I’m in an awesome relationship” nose at all the peons below you who can’t seem to figure it out, when suddenly…Bam! Something comes out of left field and knocks you right back flat on your not-so-know-it-all a… um, butt.

Oh yeah. Been there.

So, I’m not even going to sit here and pretend that I have anything any more figured out than the rest of you do. Don’t worry.

But I am going to tell you one thing. And I am 110% sure that I’m absolutely correct on this observation.

Some of the songs that are being put out there for today’s youth to listen to? Yeah. They are NOT helping.

Holy crap, have you heard some of this stuff? And yes, I’m blatantly aware that I sound like my mother right now, but ask me if I care. Go on, ask me. Because I’m not referring to anything like bad language in the lyrics or the decibel that the songs are played at (although I do wish my kids would turn that crap down…that can’t be healthy…). No, this isn’t the typical “the world is going to hell in a hand basket” rant.

Ok, let me give you a few examples.

I Want Crazy – Hunter Hayes

Who cares if you’re all I think about,
I’ve searched the world and I know now,
It ain’t right if you ain’t lost your mind
Yeah, I don’t want easy, I want crazy…
Yeah, look at us baby, tonight the midnight rules are breaking
There’s no such thing as wild enough,
And maybe we just think too much
Who needs to play it safe in love?
Let’s be crazy!

[Oh no – you certainly don’t want to ‘think too much’ or ‘play it safe’ when it comes to choosing your life mate, right? That is, like, soooo totally uncool.]

Please Don’t Leave Me – Pink

I don’t know if I can yell any louder,
How many times have I kicked you out of here
Or said something insulting?
I can be so mean when I wanna be,
I am capable of really anything,
I can cut you into pieces,
When my heart is broken.
Please, don’t leave me
Please, don’t leave me
I always say how I don’t need you
But it’s always gonna come right back to this
Please, don’t leave me

[Oh, don’t worry, sweetie. Surely to goodness he wouldn’t leave you just from something silly like yelling, throwing him out of the house, or continuously insulting him, right?]

Marry You – Bruno Mars

It’s a beautiful night,
We’re looking for something dumb to do.
Hey baby,
I think I wanna marry you.
Is it the look in your eyes,
Or is it this dancing juice?
Who cares baby,
I think I wanna marry you.

[Oh dear God. That is all I have to say.]

The Way I Loved You – Taylor Swift

He respects my space
And never makes me wait
And he calls exactly when he says he will
He’s close to my mother
Talks business with my father
He’s charming and endearing, and I’m comfortable
But I miss screamin’ and fightin’ And kissin’ in the rain
And it’s two a.m. and I’m cursin’ your name
You’re so in love that you act insane
And that’s the way I loved you
Breakin’ down and comin’ undone
It’s a roller-coaster kinda rush
And I never knew I could feel that much
And that’s the way I loved you
He can’t see the smile I’m fakin’
And my heart’s not breakin’
‘Cause I’m not feelin’ anything at all

[Oh, T-Swizzle, how I hate to put you on this list. I’m the last adult alive that still defends your music and your songwriting skills, but I have to call you out on this one, kiddo. Wow. Really? Here, hun, I’ll tell ya what. You don’t want that guy you described at the beginning? I, along with the rest of the women on the FACE OF THE EARTH, will gladly take him off your hands. Are you insane??]

*sigh* I can’t list anymore examples. My brain hurts.

So, you see a theme here, right?

These songs (and basically just society in general if I’m going to go ahead and lay it all out there) are teaching our kids that if love isn’t tumultuous and dramatic, then it’s not love. If it’s not wild and reckless, it’s not love. If there isn’t knock-down drag-out screaming craziness, then it’s not love. If there aren’t grandiose breakups followed by tear-filled reconciliations filled with syrupy sweet background violins playing, then it’s not love.

Um, what?

No. NO. Just, no.

That crap is not love. You know what that crap is? That crap is a soap opera. A movie.

Speaking of movies, my daughter and I watched another of your typical contemporary chick flicks over the weekend. “27 Dresses.” Cute movie, don’t get me wrong. But it was soooo predictable. And quite like the rest of it’s kind. Entertaining, yes. But realistic? Ok, so you meet some guy – you’re super incredibly mean to him – and yet he still follows you around like a puppy, calls you incessantly (which you eventually find cute rather than filing the restraining order on him that you should have from the start if this were actually happening), and sends you flowers on a pretty much daily basis until you finally, against your better judgment, agree to go out with him. Oh, and by the way, he’s drop dead gorgeous of course. Of course. (Have I sighed yet in this blog? *Sigh*)

Well, in the middle of watching this movie, my boyfriend shows up at our house with food. I knew he was coming, so we paused the movie and ate a quick lunch with him before he had to head to work for the rest of the night. Now, mind you, this guy lives 30 minutes away from me. So, bringing us lunch involved an hour’s drive round trip – all before going in to work a busy night shift as a bartender. My daughter, being the inquisitive thinker that she is, just point blank asked me why he would do that. So, I told her.

It’s because he loves us.

No, there are no flowers showing up at my doorstep every day. No, there is no screaming at 2:00 a.m. (Ok, well, maybe there was that one time…) [Kidding, kidding…] And no, we are not going to get married because ‘it’s a beautiful night and we’re looking for something dumb to do.’ So, sadly, I guess there aren’t going to be any contemporary hit songs written about our relationship any time soon.

And thank God for that.

But I am proud to have been able to allow my daughter to witness one moment of what a relationship should be. Of what a relationship – a good relationship – really is. And I hope with all of my heart that she goes on in life and remembers that day that Richard brought her and her mom lunch before he went to work. No, our relationship isn’t perfect. Not by a long shot. But it’s real. And that’s what I want her to see. That is the standard I want her to use to base her future relationships on.

Sadly, I haven’t always shown her the example of a good relationship. And I wish I could go back in time and undo that. But, for now, and from this point forward, I hope she can watch and learn what I wish I would have learned a long time ago. Relationships aren’t about the drama. They just aren’t. They’re about the quiet, tender times.

No fanfare. No explosions.

Just an unexpected, love-filled lunch brought to you in the middle of a chick flick.

Just….sweetness. You know?

Simple, pure, boring ol’ sweetness. That’s it.

***

“Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being “in love” which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossoms had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two.”
– Louis de Bernieres, Corelli’s Mandolin

Posted by Melissa Edmondson. Categories: Freestyle Writings/Musings. Tags: 27 Dresses, blog, change, confusion, dating, daughter, heart, hit songs, love, loyalty, lyrics, motivation, movies, passion, Quotes, real, relationships, romantic comedy, songs, writing, youth. 1 Comment

Aug. ’13

Chicken Soup

I have been kind of keeping something a secret.

Oh, I don’t know why really. I guess at first I wasn’t sure whether I should say something when I wasn’t 100% positive that it was going to be true (I’m still not sure really, but I’ll explain that soon enough). Then, I was a little embarrassed to say something about it. Not sure why that is either really. I guess I just didn’t want to put the cart before the horse or whatever. And then, finally, I was afraid to say something in fear of…well, I don’t know…jinxing it maybe?

But, alas, as my ever-helpful boyfriend said to me about my fear of the jinx (while quoting the great philosopher, Andy Griffith):

“There’s no such thing, Barney.”

(Full of wisdom, that one is.)

Ok. So, jinx be darned, I’m ready to spill my guts.

See this?

This is the cover of a new Chicken Soup for the Soul book that is being released on December 24. And guess what?

There’s a very strong chance that one of my stories will be in it.

EEEEEEK!

Ok, let me back up a little and explain.

About four months ago, after starting my blog and getting some pretty positive feedback from people, I decided to try on a little confidence and see how it fit. I started submitting some of my works. Mostly, I entered a few little contests here and there (one of which I won!), but then I started looking into submitting works for publishing. I stumbled across a webpage that listed various publishers and Chicken Soup for the Soul was on the list. When I saw it, it was like a light bulb went off in my mind.

That’s it!

I had always had trouble deciding how to describe my writing. My grandmother, who is not techno savvy AT ALL and has thus, of course, never seen my blog (and probably has never even heard of the word ‘blog’), would ask me “Well, Melissa, what is it that you write?” I was stumped. I had no idea how to answer that. The things I write certainly don’t fall into the “novel” category (I can barely hold a thought long enough to make a complete sentence, much less maintain a thought for the entire process of writing a NOVEL! Sheesh!); they aren’t short stories really (they aren’t long enough for that, and they’re not fiction); they’re not “essays” exactly, but that was what came to closest to describing them I supposed. But I still couldn’t quite explain to her (or to anyone) what they were exactly.

And then I saw the request for submissions to Chicken Soup and realized that those were exactly what I write. Just like what the Chicken Soup books are filled to the brim with, I write short little nonfiction personal accounts from my own life that I hope will somehow make a difference to someone else. As my friend Chris Hansen once said in a Facebook status, “We are more alike than it seems.” He followed it up with the following quote :

“We are here to awaken from our illusion of separateness.”
– Thích Nhất Hạnh

That was my goal. I wanted many people from many walks of life – no matter their age, religion, social status, whatever – to look at the stories coming from this one little person floating out here on the planet along with them and think, “Hey! That sounds like me!”

So, I decided to take a chance. I sent in a submission to Chicken Soup for the Soul.

Now, I know a lot of my blog readers are “closet writers” – I know this because you tell me so with your “I wish I had the courage to do what you do” emails – so I’m going to describe a little bit about the process. (And for those of you who are not writers, I’ll try to keep it short so I don’t bore you to tears. Or, if you want, you can skip this part. You’re not going to hurt my feelings, I promise.)

First, I perused the Chicken Soup for the Soul webpage and found the “submit your story” link in a column on the left (which I’ll post at the bottom of this blog for you closet writers I referred to earlier…you know you wanna!). When you click here, it will give you a list of some possible upcoming book topics. You then submit your story based on one of these topics. The story has to be nonfiction – it has to be something that happened to you or someone you know – and can’t be made up. You actually have to sign a release form later swearing to the truth of what is contained in the story. The submission is entirely electronic – you just copy and paste the story on to their site and fill in some info about yourself – and Voilà! You’re done. It’s that simple. (And it’s free!) And then what happens next?

You wait.

If your story isn’t chosen, you just don’t hear anything at all. I’ve read that they can get thousands of entries on each individual topic. (Holy cow!) And I’ve also read that it can sometimes take up to FOUR YEARS to hear back from them even if your story is chosen, depending upon when the production date is scheduled for that particular book. So, if your story is chosen among the entries, you get an email from them letting you know. (And that email gives you a small little heart attack and makes you cry…or so I’ve heard…) Then, you go on to provide them a small bio about yourself and sign release and waiver forms with regard to your material being printed in the book.

This is the step that I’m at now. I have just sent in all of my legal forms and wrote a short bio about who I am (50 words or less – that was hard!) to be printed in the book if my story makes the final cut. According to the assistant publisher (who I’ve spoken with by phone and email a few times at this point), the “vast majority” (her words) of the stories that have made it this far will be printed in the book. However, if you’re familiar with the Chicken Soup books, you know that each book is divided into different sub-topics. She explained that sometimes one sub-topic will be “too full” so to speak, and they may have to leave some stories out to keep it balanced.

So…it’s not 100% for sure that I’m in just yet – but I sure am starting to get my hopes up! Keep your fingers crossed for me! (And toes and eyes and whatever else you got…)

When (if?) I’m chosen to appear in the book, the next step will be that I will receive a printed copy of my story to proofread and edit if necessary. Once the editing process is complete, and the book is bound, I will receive ten copies to keep, which I will receive prior to its release date of December 24. One month after publishing, I’ll receive $200 payment for my story.

Wow.

I mean, the money is cool and all, but at this point – who the heck cares!? I’m soooo close to having my work published in a national best-selling book. Oh. My. Gosh. As my daughter said when she heard the news, “I don’t understand why they pay you. Shouldn’t you be paying them?”

Yeah. Exactly.

So, for the next few months, I am probably going to be a nervous wreck. This could be such a huge deal for me. This is big, folks.

But you know what? I think that even if I am one of the unlucky few that have made it this far and yet don’t quite make it into the book in the end – I think it’s still pretty big, regardless. Out of hundreds, maybe thousands, of submissions, my story was chosen. Wow. I’m honored, humbled, and blown away that this is happening to me. And I have each and every one of you who are reading this right now to thank. Because of you taking the time to read this blog and giving me your positive feedback over the months that I’ve been baring my soul for all the world to see, I have gained confidence. I have started to believe that I’m actually a writer. And because of that belief – I have taken a chance. And it may possibly have paid off.

Big time.

Thank you, thank you, thank you for coming along with me on this crazy ride. I’ll keep you posted!

***

“If you wish to be a writer, write.”
– Epictetus

Links:

Link to submit to Chicken Soup: http://www.chickensoup.com/form.asp?cid=possible_books

Link to read more about the Chicken Soup for the Soul: The Dating Game book and/or to pre-order a copy on Amazon.com: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1611599296/102-7001014-7473727?ie=UTF8&tag=chisouforthes-20&linkCode=xm2&camp=1789&creativeASIN=1611599296

Posted by Melissa Edmondson. Categories: Freestyle Writings/Musings. Tags: author, blog, book, chicken soup, chicken soup for the soul, contest, dating, essays, inspiration, inspirational, motivation, motivational, novels, poetry, publish, published, published author, Quotes, relationships, stories, submissions, write, writer, writing, writing contest. 3 Comments

Aug. ’13

One-Sided

“This is the hardest of all: to close the open hand of love, and keep modest as a giver.”
– Friedrich Nietzsche

I want to talk about something that has caught my attention lately.

Givers.

And I don’t just mean givers in general – those who give their slightly used products to Goodwill instead of throwing them away; those who give an extra dollar every time the cashier asks if you want to donate to this or that charity; those who graciously give little presents here and there whenever and wherever they can. Yes, those people are awesome (go team!), but no – that’s not what this blog is about. I want to be a little more specific. I want to talk about the givers in relationships.

To be even more specific, I want to talk about the givers in one-sided relationships.

[Now in this blog only (and I do apologize for this because I don’t usually do this kind of thing), I want to specifically talk about the woman in this kind of relationship. Yes, I know that one-sided relationships can go either way – sometimes it’s the man giving their all while the woman does next to nothing to contribute (and sometimes it can happen within a same sex couple, which really throws a wrench into my theory here) – but as the author of this blog, I can only talk about what I know. And what I know is what I’ve witnessed and what I’ve experienced. In that experience, limited though it may be, I have seen that the giver is usually the woman. I promise I’ll explain why I think that is soon.]

So. One-sided relationships. Oh boy, have I been there. I also know a few friends who have been there, and I know some friends who are there now. Not following what I mean exactly by one-sided relationships? Ok, let me set the stage for you.

You’re with this guy and you just absolutely adore him. He’s cute, he’s charming, he’s loving (well, most of the time)…man, you think you’ve hit the jackpot with this one. So, you’re going to make absolute certain that you don’t screw this one up. You’ve been known to screw things up in the past, so this time is going to be different. First order of business? Make sure he knows that you’re not one of those “needy” chicks that expects the man to pay for things when you go out. Oh no siree, not you, Miss Woman of the 21st Century. You are independent and self-sufficient and he needs to know it. So, on the first couple of dates, you pay for yourself. Nothing wrong with that, right? You feel good about it – he seems impressed – win/win. But then, as time goes by, you start paying for a few more things here and there – you start buying both of your meals. You not only want to show that you’re independent, but you want to show him how much you care. And we know how much a man loves food, so let’s buy him some. Well, eventually, that doesn’t seem to be enough. You don’t feel like he knows that you care. And if he doesn’t know, then he might not stick around, right? Better do a little bit more. Let’s start buying him gifts. Yeah – that’ll do the trick. First, a little gift here and there. No biggie – it’s sweet, right? Then, those gifts start getting a little larger…he’s into cars? Let’s buy him some car accessory we saw him ogling. He likes a certain movie? Let’s find the special collector’s edition DVD of it and give it to him for no good reason. He likes a certain book? Ok, never mind…I’ve went too far. We all know men don’t read books….

(KIDDING, fellas!)

So, you catch my drift, right? Eventually, somewhere along the line, the idea has entered your head that you can earn this man’s love. Now, I don’t mean to emphasize monetary gifts, per se. Sometimes it may just be cooking him dinner, or making him something, or writing him notes…whatever. The point is, you are doing a heck of a lot more than he is.

Why is that?

Ok, well, I can hypothesize on this all day, but I’ll try to narrow it down. There are so many possible reasons why women feel the need to do this, but first and foremost is this: we were raised this way. Now, I know that times are changing and women are much more independent than they were in times gone by. But at the heart of who we are is the need to nurture. We are the ones who bear the children, we are the ones whose bodies produce the milk to feed our young, we are the ones who are taught from an early age to keep the peace, to keep our loved ones happy. It’s just the way it is, like it or not. And honestly, I’m cool with that. The role we women play is a pretty important one, a necessary one, and we should be proud.

But here’s the problem with that. We sometimes may tend to transfer that over to our romantic relationships. And then when the relationship doesn’t work out, we think we didn’t play our role correctly, so we try harder the next time. And if that one doesn’t work out? Try even harder the next time.

You following me?

Because of our nature, we think that we have to give, give, give in order to be loved. Check out these snippets of lyrics from the song “Little Miss” by Sugarland:

“Little miss checkered dress
Little miss, one big mess
Little miss, I’ll take less when I always give so much more…
Little miss, do your best
Little miss, never rest
Little miss, be my guest, I’ll make more anytime that it runs out…”

See? It’s who we are. There are even songs about it. And don’t get me wrong – like I said before, being this way is a good thing. It really, really is. But the problem is that sometimes we end up with men who take advantage of that. Now, am I blaming them for that? No, not really. As much as I like to blame men for everything, I’m not sure I can put this one on them. Much like we were raised the way we were, they were also raised the way they were – as the recipient of this nurturing. Why wouldn’t they accept it? It’s natural to them. They’re thrilled with it – who wouldn’t be?

Well, I’ll tell you who ends up not thrilled. Us.

Women.

Over time, we start feeling like we are the only one doing anything in the relationship. Like we are the only ones keeping it going – we are the only ones busting our butts to make sure the relationship is happy and fulfilling, while the man just reaps the benefits. We give, they take. My coworker Tina, who is always filled with words of wisdom, has said this phrase to me many times:

“You teach people how to treat you.”

We have taught them that this is the way it is. That the relationship will continue without any effort on their part, because we have it covered. No worries, Mr. Man, we got this. We’re women, we’ll take care of everything.

But you know what? That’s really not cool.

And when we start realizing it’s not cool, and start realizing that things are one-sided, we start to feel resentful towards the man. We start hoping that he will change. But guess what? He’s not going to.

You know who has to change? You.

Again, like I’ve said many times in my blogs, I certainly don’t have all the answers. I’ve been through my share of failed relationships, and I’m sure I played a huge personal role in those failings at times. I’m no different than you are. The only thing I’m hoping to do here is shine a light on something that might be wrong in your life that you have the power to right. Don’t stop being a giver altogether, I’m not saying that. But maybe you could just try not to give quite so much. Maybe you can try not to control so much and have a little faith. Let things happen on their own, without so much forced effort. I don’t know – just try it for a while. See what happens.

Hey, you never know – the man in your life may just be waiting for the chance to show you he cares, if you’ll just leave him a little room to do it.

And if he doesn’t? If he doesn’t rise to the challenge and the relationship falls apart because you are no longer in the driver’s seat? Well, then I guess you know that little instinct you’ve been ignoring has been trying to tell you something, hasn’t it?

Relationships, man. This crap ain’t for the faint of heart, I’m tellin ya….

***

“Yeah, I’m a giver. I’ve learned to be selective of the people in my world, because if I love someone, I will give them my blood, whatever they need. In doing so, one can end up with little left for themselves.”
-Brittany Murphy

Posted by Melissa Edmondson. Categories: Freestyle Writings/Musings. Tags: blog, change, dating, givers, heart, heartbreak, inspiration, inspirational, love, motivational, one-sided, Quotes, relationships, unrequited, writing. 3 Comments

Aug. ’13

The Kiss

“Love is when you like someone so much that when you look at them, you just want to kiss their face.”
– Riley, age 12

My boyfriend’s son and I were having a conversation a while back (we do that a lot actually – there’s just something about that kid…) and the topic of “love” came up. I can’t really remember the details of what was said, but I remember asking him what his definition was, and his answer was what I quoted above. You just want to kiss their face. I jotted it down (that’s what we writers do) and knew that I wanted to use it one day, but just wasn’t sure how. I mean, it wasn’t exactly “deep” or “meaningful” or anything – but there was just something about it that struck a chord in me and I didn’t really know why.

Until now.

I think I may have just figured it out.

In the past few weeks, I have seen two of my friends go through heartbreaks. And in both of these circumstances, the men that were supposed to have loved them, have hurt them. Deeply. As I have listened to their stories (feeling my own heart break right along with them), I have come to realize something. Something that humbles and moves me with a feeling that it is hard to even put into words.

I will truly never know what that feels like, ever again.

I mean, I’m the chick that blogs about hurt and pain all the time. About rising from your circumstances and about forgiveness and about moving on, and blah, blah, blah. But as I have listened to what has happened to them at the hands of the men they loved, I know, deep in my heart, that I will never be using that kind of pain as my motivation for future writings. Why is that? Because I know, without a doubt, that Richard will never hurt me like they’ve been hurt.

I know what you’re thinking...yeah, right. We ALL think that about the person we love, and then we find out something later on that shatters our illusions. Everyone is going to hurt you, no one is perfect. Get your head out of the clouds, stupid blogger girl.

Ok, I get that. Richard and I are going to hurt each other at times, there’s no doubt about that. I hear what you’re saying. But here’s the difference.

Richard would never intentionally hurt me. Nor I him.

That’s the difference.

Let me explain. Any problems that he and I have had over the time we have been together (and there have been plenty) all seem to have this underlying theme to them. If we took each and every one of our disagreements and misunderstandings and dissected and examined them, you would see that at the heart of each and every single one lies one common denominator: trying not to hurt one another. In trying not to hurt one another, we have made some stupid mistakes. We have withheld information, withheld communication, withheld necessary information at times – all just to try to avoid hurting the other. And then, when this information is unearthed, it causes a problem. Now, I’m not saying that this is exactly healthy, per se. We need to work on that, I know. Hey, we’re just as screwed up as the rest of the couples out there in the world are, I know this. I’m not trying to say we’re not. We don’t know what the heck we’re doing either. But the major difference that exists here is this. We never ever try to hurt one another. You know?

And that is what I’ve seen my friends going through.

With both words and actions, these men have shown their women things that have crushed them. Sure, the men think they have excuses for what they’ve done (don’t we all?), but the cold, hard fact is this – they have done something on purpose that they knew, without a doubt, would break another person’s heart. And that really, really, sucks.

Which brings me back to where I started this blog. 12-year-old Riley’s quote.

“Love is when you like someone so much that when you look at them, you just want to kiss their face.”

Look at the relationship that you’re in. Right now – take stock and look around. Assess your partnership. Get rid of all the stupid little details that don’t matter at all – throw out the things that just annoy you about him/her, or vice versa. Throw out anything that has happened in their past before you ever came along. Throw out any of the daily minutiae of money issues, work stresses, kid struggles…forget all of that for just a minute. Just look at your partner with the simplicity of that 12-year-old and ask yourself this.

When I look at him/her, do I just want to kiss their face?

And maybe more importantly, do I think that when they look at me, they want to do the same?

There’s something so tender and gentle about kissing someone’s face. It’s not like a full-fledged kiss on the lips. For one, you don’t really get anything in return – the kiss is just for them. It’s not selfish, it’s not passionate, it’s not greedy. It’s just a simple show of love towards the person that has captured your heart. Whether it be a kiss on the cheek or a kiss on the forehead, either way it’s a kiss that is full of giving, not receiving. And I think that’s so important to pay attention to.

Ask yourself if you are giving this kind of selfless love to the person in your life. And then, if you’re in the circumstances that my sweet, heartbroken friends are in, ask yourself this same question as the recipient. Are you receiving this kind of love?

Are you?

Turns out, this 12-year-old may have known what he was talking about. Love is selfless. It’s tender and gentle and would never ever hurt you on purpose. Love is a gift.

Real love is a kiss on the face.

Do you have it? Don’t settle for anything else until you do. Trust me on this one.

***

“A man’s kiss is his signature.”
– Mae West

Posted by Melissa Edmondson. Categories: Freestyle Writings/Musings. Tags: blog, blogging, change, children, heartache, heartbreak, inspiration, kiss, loss, love, motivation, passion, pictures, Quotes, relationships, write, writing. 3 Comments

Aug. ’13

34

“God gave us the gift of life; it is up to us to give ourselves the gift of living well.”
– Voltaire

Today, August 1, 2013, is the last day that I will ever be 34 years old.

As you get older, birthdays don’t seem to hold the same significance that they did when you were younger. Have you noticed that? You don’t really “look forward” to them anymore. In fact, at some point, they become something that you even somewhat dread. (Another year older!? Really??) But I have decided that, starting this year, I’m going to put a stop to that nonsense.

As I prepare to turn the page to 35, I’m going to take a moment to look back over the year I was 34. The good, the bad – everything notable that took place during my time on this earth as a 34-year-old. Each year holds special moments that are gone in the blink of an eye – moments that we will never get back and can only be relived through memories. They should be cherished and appreciated and yes, even celebrated – the bad, along with the good. But most important of all, they should be noticed. For these are the moments that make us who we are – the moments that shape and mold us into the awesome, unique individuals that comprise humanity, and that give each of us our own story to tell.

So, here’s mine.

Please join me as I look back over the 34 most notable events of my 34th year (in no particular order):

1. I started a blog. I had toyed with the idea for years, but I finally got up the courage to do it this year. And it has been AMAZING! If you’re reading this, you’re one of the reasons why. I’m blown away by how many people read this thing and by all the responses I have gotten from it. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you.

2. I got my first writing award (and check!). I got up the nerve to enter a local writing contest and was shocked to get a letter in the mail saying that I had won first place in the essay category. Woohoo!

3. I got my first rejection letter. Yep. A real-life “your stuff isn’t what we’re looking for” letter. And you know what? I actually thought it was kind of cool. Really. You’re not a real writer until you get a rejection. Initiation complete.

4. I saw Niagara Falls. And it was AWESOME!

5. I saw my first marathon. A group of us traveled to New York for the Wineglass Marathon. Many in the group were running the marathon, some running the half marathon, and some, like myself, were just there to watch. There was NOTHING like it. One of my favorite running-related quotes of all time: “If you lose faith in humanity, go watch a marathon.” – Kathrine Switzer. There is so much truth to that. The feeling of camaraderie and “oneness” between the runners and spectators alike was something that I don’t even know how to put into words. This was definitely one of the highlights of my 34th year, hands down.

6. I ran a 5K in New York, and got my personal best time of 30:55. The day before the marathon, there was a 5k as part of the festivities surrounding the event. I decided to run it in, and ended up getting my best personal 5K time. My boyfriend captured this picture at the very moment that I looked up and saw the time clock at the finish line. I just love it. The picture says it all. It was nice to feel so proud of myself.

7. My son joined the cross country team at school. This was such great news to me. I was so proud of him, and felt like my running had made an influence on that decision. Since joining the team, he has gone on to race in a few races with me, and place in many of them (including a 3rd place overall finish for one of them!). I’m such a proud mom.

8. I ran my first 10k. Shortly after returning from the New York trip, I knew that I couldn’t stop at 5Ks. It was time to start training for longer distances. My first 10K was a trail run, and I ran it with my son. I wasn’t fast, but I was very proud. And it was the first time that the thought entered my mind that I might even be able to go further than that. Which brings me to #9..

9. I ran my first half-marathon. Wow. All of my hard work paid off and I crossed that finish line with possibly more pride in myself than I had ever felt before. Not too shabby for a 34-year-old, if I don’t say so myself.

(Here’s the blog entry about the half marathon if you’d like to read more: https://missyspublicjunk.wordpress.com/2013/05/04/i-did-it/)

10. I watched my boyfriend Richard be inducted as the Master of the Ashe Masonic Lodge #594. This was actually very, very cool. I had never seen anything like this ceremony (I’m a chick – we’re not allowed, ya know), and I admit that I went into it thinking that the rituals and secrecy were somewhat silly. But I came away with a deeper understanding of how much this fellowship means to those men, and what good, kind, noble men each and every one of them are. I was so incredibly proud to be Richard’s girlfriend that day. I won’t forget it anytime soon.

11. I started attending a new church. My boyfriend and I, along with our kids, have started attending Bethany United Methodist Church. It has been nice to feel like a part of a church family again. I needed that.

12. I moved. I finally took the plunge and moved out of a place that I was unhappy at. It has made all the difference in the world. It’s such a great feeling to actually look forward to going home for a change. Definitely a noteworthy event from my 34th year.

13. We lost our pet, Chicago. Little Chicago was something else. While just a kitten, my daughter found him in an old trash can outside our home. He had been hurt badly (we still don’t know by what – or whom), and could not move his hind legs. Kelly carried him around like a baby for weeks, feeding him milk from a tiny measuring spoon and giving him little kitty pain pills that an animal-loving friend of ours had provided. I just knew the little guy wasn’t going to make it, but alas – he surprised us all. He was with us for four years. I pretended like I didn’t like the little guy (he had THE MOST annoying meow in the world), but I feel his loss more than I ever thought I would have. We miss you, annoying little Chicago. You were loved.

14. I saw my grandma turn 83. Such a spry, spunky little Grandma she is too.

15. I lost another grandparent. My grandpa, Paul Pridemore (who we all referred to as “Mr. P.”) passed away during my 34th year. Mr. P. lived a long, happy, healthy 96 years on this earth and will be missed by everyone who knew him. I’ll bet he wasn’t the type to dread another birthday. He served as a good example to live life to the fullest while we’re here. I hope I’ll live to make him proud.

16. I ran the path that my other grandpa, Greene Halsey, had walked to school. This is something that I had wanted to do for a long time, and finally did it during my 34th year. I’ll post the link to the blog if you’d like to read more about it. I was very proud to have finally done this. https://missyspublicjunk.wordpress.com/2013/02/25/uphill-both-ways/

17. I sang in public for the first time (sort of). Ok, so technically, I had done this before in musicals. And at karaoke. But getting up and singing with my boyfriend at one of his gigs was SO nerve-wracking. I couldn’t believe I had the courage to get up there. It was hard – and I was shaking like a leaf – but I did it. And have done it a few more times since. Definitely a noteworthy moment from age 34.

18. I lost Richard. Definitely not one of the happiest moments of age 34, but noteworthy nonetheless. Richard and I split up for 2 months. We both tried to move on, but we found our way back (thank God). I think we both grew up more during those 2 months than we had in a long time. Sometimes you just have to travel alone for a while (whether you want to or not) to find out what’s really important. And I definitely found out what was important. Him. I’m so glad he’s back.

19. I witnessed two little miracles. I saw the tiniest babies I had ever seen in my life – and they belonged to my sister. Her twins were born 10 weeks too early. Not many things have affected my life like seeing those tiny little healthy human beings. I’m so amazed at the technology that we have now that allowed for these two to survive.

Here they were then:

And here they are now:

(Again, if you’d like to check out the blog post about these little angels, here’s the link: https://missyspublicjunk.wordpress.com/2013/04/03/week-old-miracles/)

If the 33-year-old Melissa didn’t believe in miracles, this 34-year-old Melissa sure as heck does.

20. I was the subject of a blog. My boyfriend and I were interviewed for a very public blog that was read by tons of people. How cool is that?! Definitely the first time that has ever happened. I was famous for a day!

Links: (Here’s the link to the actual blog: http://www.8womendream.com/55851/improve-womens-self-esteem / And here’s the link to my own blog post about the blog: https://missyspublicjunk.wordpress.com/2013/05/22/self-image-part-2/)

21. I was on TV. Yep. My first TV appearance. I was interviewed for an art segment of a local channel regarding the role I was playing in an upcoming production. Awesomeness. Another first occurring in year 34. (blog link: https://missyspublicjunk.wordpress.com/2013/03/12/fear/)

22. I starred in my first lead female role with Ashe County Little Theatre. I was so proud to have been cast as Mother in the show Life With Father. It took me a long time to become a part of this theatre, and this was such a monumental moment for me. I will remember it always. (Plus, my boyfriend’s son Riley got to play as one of my sons. Added bonus.)

23. My daughter starred in her first lead role ever. I have been involved in theatre for pretty much my whole life, but I never knew the meaning of “nervous” until I felt what I felt just before the curtain rose on opening night of Annie. Watching my baby girl stepping on to the stage in the title role was beyond anything I’ve ever felt before. I was so incredibly proud of her. Not only for her ability, but for her poise and humility throughout the production. This kid is going to go places. Mark my word.

(Related blog post: https://missyspublicjunk.wordpress.com/2013/06/26/tomorrow/)

24. Lost a friend. Although I don’t count this as one of the highlights of my 34th year, I had a falling out with a very close friend. Looking back, I’m not so sure the problem was worth ending a friendship over (is it ever?), but it happened nonetheless. And it should be noted in this list. Perhaps I can come back with an update in year 35 that this has been mended? Perhaps. Either way. Friendship lost – duly noted on the list – moving along…

25. Mended a friendship. While we’re on the topic, I might as well mention that I regained a friend in my 34th year. This is a story that I hope to tell in a future blog, but for now, I’ll just say that it’s nice to have found my old friend again. And to know all is well. Everything always works out ok in the end, right? Chris, I’m glad you’re back.

26. Ran my first obstacle race. The Warrior Dash. *sigh* I don’t even have the energy to talk about this one anymore. If you want to read about it, I’ll post the link. You probably don’t though. It was NOT the best experience. But good or bad, it made the “34” list, so I guess it was notable.

(Blog link: https://missyspublicjunk.wordpress.com/2013/06/03/warrior-dash-or-as-i-like-to-call-it-hell/)

27. Richard and I introduced each other to the fam. That’s a big deal. We were each thrown into the big, loud, happy mix at each other’s family get-togethers over the holidays, and then in a few events (some sad, some happy) since then. Nothing makes you feel like a “real” couple more than getting included in the family (dis)functions. 😉

28. We took our first ‘family’ trip to the beach. Richard’s family has this super cool tradition that spans the years (starting even before he was born) of all getting together to go to Myrtle Beach once a year. It’s a glorified family reunion, if you will. And this year, my kids and I were included. And that’s awesome. It meant so much to me to be included in something so special, and is definitely noteworthy in my 34 list.

29. Made it through a cancer scare. I was a basket case during the fall of my 34th year. We found a lump on my son’s neck that wouldn’t go away. 17 years ago, the same thing had happened to me when I was just a few years older than he was. And I had Hodgkin’s lymphoma. After excruciating weeks of waiting and worrying, a surgery was finally scheduled to remove the lump from his neck and have it tested. And – thank God – it was benign. There is no worry like that of a mother for her child. I gained a new appreciation and understanding for my own mother through this ordeal, and I hope to never have to go through anything like it again.

30. Got a standing ovation – mid-show. Now, THAT was cool. Of course, I was playing Elvis (sort of). And I sang Heartbreak Hotel. And I looked like this:

But still. Standing ovations mid-show just don’t happen. That was definitely one for the 34 list. Hands down.

31. Went to an AWESOME wedding. Now, you know if a wedding made the list, it must have kicked butt. Well…it did. That was the most fun I have had in a while. It was theatre-themed and full of people I love – how could you go wrong? I even blogged about it. (https://missyspublicjunk.wordpress.com/2013/05/13/completion/)

Thanks Jim & Rebecca for giving us these memories to cherish.

32. Visited the house Richard lived in when he was born. We took a little detour on the way back while we were in New York for the marathon, and swung by to take a look at the house that Richard lived in for the first six months of his life. It was the first time he had seen it since. That was a pretty cool moment. Very sentimental. I was proud to be able to tag along for that moment. That was a good “age 34” memory.

33. 4-mile Abingdon race with my son. Now, why did this make my list? Sure, I’ve run plenty of races by now – and quite a few of them with my son. But there was just something about this one. Most notably, when my son finished the race (well ahead of me, of course), he turned around and came back on the track to find me, and finished with me. It would be pretty difficult to leave that moment off of the top 34 list. Have I mentioned that I’m a proud momma?? (Blog post: https://missyspublicjunk.wordpress.com/2013/03/17/favorite-race-so-far/)

And finally. We’ve reached #34. I saved what I felt was the most notable event for last. (And incidentally, if you’ve made it this far – I’m impressed.)

34. I was in a car accident. In April of my 34th year, I was in a pretty bad car accident. I totaled my car but, miraculously, walked away with only a few scratches. You don’t come away from something like that without some sort of “indention” on your life. It leaves a mark. The only thing that remained intact from my accident, besides myself, was my drivers side mirror. I found the mirror at the accident site days later, and took it home as a reminder. True to my word (as I mentioned in a blog post shortly after – https://missyspublicjunk.wordpress.com/2013/04/08/reflection/), I keep this mirror beside my bed on my nightstand. I feel like it serves a reminder that I’m still here. I’m still here. Life didn’t stop at 34. And there’s probably a reason for that.

And I fully intend to spend the rest of my time here on earth figuring out exactly what that is.

So, thank you. Thank you, reader, for taking this trip down memory lane with me. You know – you would think that it would be hard to come up with 34 things over a year that were notable, wouldn’t you? But I actually found myself having to weed some out. Isn’t that crazy? It’s amazing how much you realize actually happens in your world when you sit down and take the time to pull each event out and shine a light of remembrance on it. We should do this more often, shouldn’t we?

Goodbye, 34. You were awesome.

Hello, 35. You ready? We’ve got a lot of work to do. Let’s get started.

***

“The more you praise and celebrate your life, the more there is in life to celebrate.”
– Oprah Winfrey

Posted by Melissa Edmondson. Categories: Freestyle Writings/Musings. Tags: 34, 35, age, birthday, blog, blogging, daughter, family, friendship, half marathon, heart, heartbreak, inspirational, memories, motivational, photos, Quotes, relationships, theatre, writing. 4 Comments

Jul. ’13

Burnout

“Take a rest. A field that has rested gives a bountiful crop.”
– Ovid

I just remembered something.

I’m a runner.

Did you remember that? Because I didn’t. I’m tellin’ ya – I seriously think I forgot about that for a while.

I have these little ‘categories’ set up on my blog. Not sure if anyone ever notices that you can search for writings under the categories, but I thought it was a cool option when I was designing this thing, so I went with it. I set up four categories – Freestyle Writings, Poetic Musings, Running, and Songs. When I first started out, I was afraid that the “running” category would be jam packed, and that my readers who were non-runners would be bored senseless. I was at the peak of my running ‘career’ at that point – training my tail off for my first half-marathon (which I successfully completed in May, by the way). I was full of wit and wisdom for new runners and amateur runners like myself – hoping to show everyone that anyone can do this running thing and that you just have to push through and believe in yourself and persevere through the obstacles…..yada yada. So on and so forth.

But then – well, I don’t know.

I just kinda just stopped that.

I just clicked on my own “Running” tab to see the last thing I had written about running. It was this: https://missyspublicjunk.wordpress.com/2013/06/04/time-to-chill/ Oh. An article called “Time to Chill.” Well, that explains it.

At that time, I was all prepared to purchase this t-shirt and hang up my running shoes:

Yep. I was done for a while.

In other words, I had been….

Hehe. Get it? Running on empty? Oh, the wit.

But I digress.

So, yeah. I had achieved what many of us have achieved in many different areas of our lives at some point. Anytime you’re passionate about something; you spend all your time doing said something; you dedicate your heart and soul and spirit to the something – there exists the risk of running into that little devil who is always waiting just around the corner to put a stop to it all. What is this little devil, you ask?

Burnout.

“Burnout is nature’s way of telling you, you’ve been going through the motions – your soul has departed; you’re a zombie, a member of the walking dead, a sleepwalker.”
– Sam Keen

That’s just it. I had become a sleepwalker.

So, you know what I did? I took a break. And I think that’s the smartest thing I could have done for myself.

In the past few weeks, I’ve noticed that I’ve started feeling the pull again. I started with a few short runs – a mile or two here and there. And slowly, I find myself inching my way back up. A 4-miler here. A 5-miler there. And yesterday – I did my own little 10K just to prove I could. Little by little, I’m making my way back. I saw a post yesterday for a 7-mile run up and down a mountain road here locally. Hmmmm. I have two months to train….

My point is this. Burnout is real. No matter how much you love something, no matter how much a part of your life it becomes, overdoing it can be problematic. It really can. It’s ok to take a break. You know? Chill out a little bit. Let things settle. Let yourself remember why you love this thing so much and why you ever started it in the first place.

Are you a runner? Well, there. Apply this lesson literally. But if you’re not? Well then, I’m sure there’s something you can apply it to.

Maybe even someone? Now, there’s some food for thought.

But see, here’s the thing. When you want it bad enough, when it has become a part of you, it won’t disappear. I promise. Taking a break is not going to un-do any progress you made. This thing you love is not going to go away. Not when it’s real.

Rest easy. Stop worrying. It will be back. You’ll see.

***

“”Sometimes in sports there are times when it is best to wait for another day and try again, at least for me. I see life as the race and I see no honor in reaching the finish and passing out or crawling across the finishing line. In Costa Rica, we have a saying: It’s not about being the first to finish, it’s about how you get there.”
-Roman Urbina