The Great Escape of 2008

The day is finally here! Today my two best friends arrive in ATL to begin our road trip to Pennsylvania. I'm truly acting like a little kid on Christmas waiting for them to get here – its been too long since the three of us have been together (well really only a few months – but that's too long). I would sit here and tell you all about the adventure we have planned for ourselves (well – more realistically the adventure we don't have planned yet) but it really isn't about the trip. I'm just so excited to spend five days with the two people that have helped define me as a person.

We met in 6^th grade at church choir. I had just moved to our small town a year before and went to a different elementary school 'down the highway'. But middle school found the combination of both elementary schools together under one roof. Every Wednesday I would see Evan and Michelle (they've been best friends since kindergarten) walking to McDonald's and then subsequently standing in the choir loft a few rows behind me. In 7^th grade, I started taking church more seriously and eventually developed a relationship with Christ that my current friends just didn't understand – oh the drama of middle school! But Evan and Michelle did understand and so began our crazy friendship, based on the most solid foundation I can think of, our faith. Now, let's be clear – we aren't a bible beating, holier than thou type people -I have several memories of holding hair after too much alcohol to negate that fact – but the truth is that we've kept each other accountable and love each other with the understanding that despite all our mistakes, our hearts are in the right place.

Through college we didn't keep in touch as well as we should have. But, right when I thought things would never be the same I got a call from Michelle a few years ago. Her live-in boyfriend and she were having problems and she was unhappy. We of course talked to Evan about it too and when things ended for them, Ev and I jumped in the car and made our way to Michelle. Although Michelle will tell you that her breakup has been the worse experience of her life, I'd argue her breakup was the best for mine. It took something like that, something life altering for Michelle to realize how desperately we needed each other. Since then, we see each other every few months and talk frequently. Michelle and I went to France last year for a week after the break up and decided we'd do a vacation every year together (with Evan of course!).

So – today we celebrate twelve years of friendship. God bless Evan and Michelle. There are times when I truly don't know what I would have done without them. Their prayers, encouragement and occasional disappointment in me have kept me on what I hope to be the right track. Ironically Evan will soon be engaged and has moved back to our hometown. Michelle is now moving to Atlanta with me in August.

This trip will, no doubt, be full of memories and long talks in the car. Every time we get together I find a new sense of myself and get grounded all over again. It's a great change from the work and partying in Atlanta.

Happy Father's Day, Poppy!

My sister just wrote an incredible post about my dad in honor of Father’s Day. So good, in fact, that I sat in my cubicle and teared up just thinking about what an incredible dad we have – it's rare these days.

I’ve always secretly thought all the failed relationships of my past could all be contributed to the fact that no one could ever amount to half the man my dad is – fair or not, he’s the only consistent man in my life and I’m in no hurry to replace him. Perhaps the thing that I relate best to with my dad (that my sister and mom will never fully understand) is that he never takes life too seriously. He has a great way of taking life with a grain of salt – loving, living and laughing through it all.

My dad knows exactly how to rationalize with me and probably even more impressive knows how to tell me I’m wrong. As a single girl with very few people in my life to consider when I make decisions or get upset, my dad has always been an opinion that I actually listen to and need.

His family values are rock solid. Considering neither of my parents had the best family life growing up, this astonishes me. (It also pisses me off when people use the excuse of a ‘bad family upbringing’ for poor life choices) When we were growing up, my dad dove into everything my sister and I did with limitless enthusiasm. When I rode horses, he NEVER missed a practice or competition - always watching from the fence at every stride, every jump with beaming pride. When my sister and I took ballet he practiced pique turns with us in the kitchen and showed us how to point our feet correctly. When I was in 3rd grade and ran for class treasurer, he insisted (against my mother's wishes) on ordering me business cards - that's right a third grader with business cards, no wonder I'm career obsessed - complete with my "Save a Penny, Vote for Ginny" tag line.

.......

Now in my dating life, he’s always treated all my boyfriends as sons but I never, ever doubted that when my heart was broken he’d be there to pick up the pieces. Those conversations when I’m crying and hurt with my dad are the ones that mean the most – he never let’s me forget that I’m loved, unconditionally by him. His relationship with my mom is the reason (sometimes the ONLY reason) that one day I hope to get married. They are completely in love with each other and he would follow her to the ends of the earth if she asked. His love for my mom is simple, pure and uncomplicated. Not being with one another has never been an option and seeing one another through the tough times has only proven to create the strongest of marriages. I said it in my speech at my sister’s wedding and still believe it today – the two happiest couples I’ve ever seen have been my parents and my sister and Chris. It makes it impossible to settle for mediocrity in my own dating life.

So Happy Father’s Day, Poppy! I’ll always be your baby girl with big dreams and the family to help make them come true.

(Oh yeah and he’s also a great chef.)

Bummed

There are a lot of bums in Atlanta. I work right smack dab in the middle of downtown ATL which I would consider their state headquarters. Since working downtown (and riding MARTA to and from work) I usually get about three request a day from a bum asking for money. One bum in particular likes to pretend he has a missing leg to the tourist – as a regular pedestrian on his side walk I can say ‘pretend’ because the leg alters between his right and left.

When I first moved to the big city I didn’t have any preconceived prejudice against bums, I just didn’t know what to make of them. I would politely smile and say ‘no’ when they asked for change and gracefully step over them as they slept in front of my car door in my parking garage (when I use to drive to work). But as I started to really develop my career and put in 60-70 hours per week my sweet nature towards bums quickly changed. When I get a paycheck only to see a very large portion of that money going towards taxes it really pisses me off. I work incredibly hard for every penny I earn and I still worry about paying all of my bills and budgeting my expenses. So, I’m not too proud to admit this, but my sweet, southern ‘no’ to bums has (on more than one occasion) become ‘get a job.’

Well karma is a bitch.

Yesterday I was minding my own business walking down to the train to take home (because once again I’m trying to pitch pennies) when I paused for a cross walk. While I’m standing there, in my peripheral vision I see a bum coming up to me in his wheel chair. I continued to listen to my iPod and tried to remind myself it was better to ignore him than yell. So, when his first quiet attempts at saying ‘miss, miss’ to get my attention turned into abrupt yelling and waving his arm – I lost my cool. I turned harshly towards him ready to say “I have $1 in my wallet, $10 in my checking account and haven’t gone grocery shopping in two weeks and if you think just because I am walking from a job means that I have plenty of cash to just throw at you so you can just go buy some more liquor, you have another thing coming. Go get a job!!” Oh yeah, I was pissed.

But before I could even begin to yell he simply pointed to the sidewalk and said “excuse me.” There I was – standing on the wheel chair ramp at the cross walk, right in his way. I froze and turned three shades of red. I wanted to chase him and apologize properly – I wanted to cry. It was a bitch slap from God and it hurt. Though I don’t think I’ll be handing out dollars any time soon on my way to work, I’ve turned a new leaf in my prejudice. Homeless or gainfully employed, everyone deserves a little respect.

Who needs a title?

If I ever start a company - I'd strongly consider taking out titles for my employees. As in, no one would have a title... there would just be salary increases based on merit. I think titles are so restricting.


Apologies for my absense - my May summary includes London, moving, work & three graduations. I'll update soon.