It's a good life

This is where I am all weekend. Weird fake Paris. It's also possible that it's before 11 am and I'm drinking. Happy weekend, you guys. I hope it's a good one (and I hope I come home with pockets full of blackjack winnings to spoil all of you with). 

Phantom nostalgia

Last week in the series finale of The Office, Andy Bernard made a comment along the lines of "I wish there was a way to know when you're in the good old days before you've left them". And it punched me in the gut when I heard it, and every day since. Punch. 

My life in the last few years has been full of quite a lot of ups and downs. For a while there it was up up up up UP, with not a cloud in the sky and not even the slightest thought of ever coming down. And then all of a sudden, slam. Free-fall, face-first, down down down until I smacked the ground as hard as anyone ever has. And I stayed there for a long time. Nowadays, which has been a lot of days at this point, I kind of hover somewhere near the middle. Some days I  get dangerously close to the ground, because some days I just walk around for the entire day with a lump in my throat, ready to dissolve into pieces at the slightest hiccup. Other days I am able to see the blue sky again, and while those days are more frequent now, I still have a long way to go before they are the norm again. 

I have a feeling this is pretty much how life goes for all of us. There are good things and good days, and there are god-awful ones as well. Sometimes you get both in one day, which is kind of a disaster for your heart. My poor thumper has taken quite a lot of beating in the last few years. More than I ever expected it was capable of. 

I'll often get sad in the middle of some ordinary moment, and then think to myself oh my god Alexe what are you so upset about you have an amazing life. I mean like, I get upset at myself for being upset. But then I realize that it's always for the same thing: I am nostalgic for a life I never lived. I'm nostalgic for the things that never happened. I wouldn't go so far as to say that I live in the past, but I definitely have a tendency to mourn things that never came to pass. I mean I was supposed to take a trip to South America a really, really long time ago, and I still get phantom nostalgia to this day over what that would have been like. Ugh. 

I'm not unhappy in my life. I have it good. Very good. My family? I love my family. They've been just about everything to me in the last little while, and I should call my parents more often to thank them for having four of us instead of just one or two. Because I need them. All three of them, plus mom and dad. All the time. I need my brother's quiet love for me, and my sister's goofy honesty, and my oldest sister's endless selflessness. I need my mom's no-feelings-spared opinions, and I need my dad's love for little things. I would be so much less of a person without all of them. They alone make my life a happy place, not to mention my grandma and nieces and assorted other relatives and friends who make me cry from laughing more than is probably appropriate. 

But. 

Every now and then, I think back to those cloudless days. I wish I could go back to my 17-year-old self and shake her and tell her she has it really, really good. I know I have it good now, and I remind myself of it daily, but boy oh boy were those some days. Before I knew what a real live broken heart actually felt like. Before I knew how it felt to lose a friend you've had since grade school, for no reason at all. Before I knew how hard life can be, how hard it often is. Before I understood how gravity worked, how metabolism changes, and how much paying rent just sucks. 

I know this all comes off as negative, and I guess it isn't so much that I'm sad as it is I'm aware of how life changes. I've never been a very big fan of change, and a lot of things have changed in my life in the last few years that I had no control over and that I hated to the core. Nowadays I try to be the one who decides on change. I don't always need to be in control, but it's nice to make my own decisions so that others can't make them for me anymore. Who knows what that means for the future, but for now, it just feels a little more manageable. 

And most of all, I try and remember that these are the good days. Even the lump in the throat all day long ones are the good days. I've got it good, and who knows, maybe this life is even better than the one I never got to live. 

Maybe. 

Antsy

I am the only person I know who is completely indifferent to coffee and tea. I can count on two hands the number of cups of coffee I've had in the last several years. I like the taste fine, I just don't really ever think to drink it. I've had much much much more tea, but it still isn't something I crave very often. I've tried to like tea, but I just really don't care. Also, tea has like a terrifying amount of bug parts in it. Look it up. Water works for me, all day, every day. And the occasional glass of chocolate milk. Because I'm a child. 

My love for Paul Simon just grows and grows as I get older. It's like as each year passes, his voice just sounds better to me. That magic little man.

I'm going to Las Vegas tomorrow. It's going to be 90°+ every single day. Fingers crossed I don't come back as a lobster. A broke lobster. 

I'm moving to a new neighborhood next week!!! I'm really going to miss Lakeview (that's a joke) and I'm really excited to learn new streets and stuff. And be able to park without it costing a million dollars and being a pain in the ass. I don't have to deal with Cubs traffic anymore! And I'm going to live five minutes from my favorite grocery store! It's all looking good. 

My marathon training starts in about a week and a half. I'm so excited, and so nervous, and so unsure of what it will be like. 

I'm intending to not eat meat while I train, partly because it's better for me and partly because I just want to not eat meat for a little while. I'm sure I'll get drunk and eat a taco here and there, but for the most part it will just be a lot of pasta and cheese and vegetables. All that really matters is that I'll still be able to eat giardiniera pizza. 

It's been rainy this week and I love it. Sunshine is great and all of that, but there's just something about a rainy day. 

Sorry this post isn't funny or sarcastic, I'm just kind of tired this week. Plus I have to teach myself how to count cards in the next 24 hours :)

Happy Memorial Day weekend, all of ya. I can't freaking wait to go swimming. 

Sigh(t)s

I know that life is life, and things happen with no regard for timing, but it seems like these last few months have been filled with high highs and low, low lows. It has rarely been calm, and it's kind of exhausting. Maybe it's just because I'm getting older and paying more attention to world news, but everything seems so extreme lately. Even in my little life circle, there seem to be more miracles and tragedies than usual. My own life is the same as always -- work, friends, family, running, champagne -- but it just seems like so much is happening at once. Lots to be thankful for, but also lots to pray for. It's hard to be happy about the good things when thinking about all the people in Bangladesh, Texas, Oklahoma, and a million other places where tragedies are coming one after another. That being said, there's been quite a few things lately that have made me scream with happiness, and it's always in the back of my mind that this is a good life. I just think it could stand to slow down a liiiiiiiittle bit. 

Anyway, I finally have some photos. So here are the nature ones, because despite anything and everything, the trees are still blooming. And it's beautiful. 

 Nashville Botanical Gardens -- one of my favorite places

 Peonies

 I could live there.

 My finger was hovering over the 'delete' button, but my roommate said this was a pretty photo. So it's here instead. 

 Oh, wisteria. 

 Tennessee hills

Aaaand here's an obnoxious number of photos of lilacs, because I went home this weekend for that reason and that reason alone. And also to see my grandma. Two reasons. 

All of these photos were taken in my yard. I grew up pretty lucky.

Take care of yourselves. xoxo

The blahs

Ugh ack blerg ick yuck blah. 

You know?

The weather is wonderful, my friends are all peaches, I just had a 5 day vacation to my favorite city, but blah.

I don't usually go this long without writing something, but for reasons I'm too lazy/tired/blah to explain, I can't post any photos. And I've started four different posts in the last week, none of which I've finished. Because no matter how the post starts out, it just ends up with me talking about the same thing, and it's something I don't want or need to talk about. 

So. Blah.

Even though all is well (happy, healthy, no disasters to speak of), it's just been a rough couple of weeks. Mostly due to small things, like Alex having a cold or dealing with Cubs traffic too many days in a row, but there are a couple of very large things looming over everything else, making all of it seem a little gray these days. But since it's Friday, I'm not going to entertain that stuff. Instead, I will talk about good things. 

Good things: 

//1// The weather. Oh my good god, the weather. Perfect! There's something unforgettable about those first days in May when you walk outside before 8 am and don't need a sweater. Not too hot yet, and you're still not used to it so it comes as a surprise. And today predicts thunderstorms, and I love thunderstorms.

//2// The weekend. I've determined that my favorite kind of weekend is one where I spend Friday night babysitting so my bosses can have a date night, and Saturday in Woodstock with whatever friends and family are there. Tonight my bosses are celebrating a birthday, and tomorrow is grandma time and then friends time, both of which include pizza. Pizza that I will eat. Oh, and Judy and my boyfriend. Kinda as good as it gets. 

//3// My roommate. I have two, but one of them has been traveling so much lately that I actually haven't seen her in over a week. But the other one, she is good to me. Really good to me. She puts up with my incessant talking (since I don't talk to adult humans throughout the work day, I come home every night just bursting with stuff to say), and she and I are in the middle of making some grand life plans that I can't really wait for. 

//4// Harry Potter. I shouldn't still be amazed by it, but I am. It's rare for any book to hold my attention very well, but HP has been doing it for 13 years. I know exactly what happens in every chapter of every book, but it just never gets old for me. And on that same note, I realized the other day that I've never dated anyone who has read them. How fucked up is that? (I know how nerdy this paragraph is. Whatever.)

//5// Lilacs. Tomorrow they will be mine. 

//6// New friends. I have lost a lot of friends in the last few years. And it sucks bad. But making new ones is the stuff of life. Brand new people I've never known before! How exciting is that?! 

//7// Travel. For me, there's nothing better. And one week from right now, I'll be in a new time zone! Hooray. 

Happy weekend everybody. I'll try not to be such a cranky shithead for the next post. 

Lately

 A few Saturdays ago I was lucky enough to go see Jim James in a teeny tiny little show at The Vic. He played a few songs from his new solo album, one of which gave me big time goosebumps. And then he finished the small set off with an entire minute of imitation whale noises. He's a crazy man, and I love him.

 View from the 30-somethingth (haha that looks silly) floor of the Hard Rock Hotel. 

 Al and Penny meet! On a hot hot hot day outside the conservatory.

 My Jack. 

 This kid is the biggest goon I know, equal parts lovable and hysterically violent.

 I've been so mad at myself lately for not reading actual books -- choosing instead to either order them on my phone or not read them at all -- so I figured the best way to get back into it was by reading my favorite series of all time. I started number 3 today, and it baffles me how they just never get old. 

 Rainy and matching in our coats 

 My grandma. This lady....well I have no words for how awesome, inspiring, and all the other good adjectives she is. I'll leave it at that.

 My favorites in Woodstock

 I finally made it to Half Acre with my friendsssss! The atmosphere was yuck. The beer was good.

 A picnic lunch outside this bad boy. 

 I wish there was a place where it was an eternal spring.

 Last week, I made pizza. While rolling out the crusts, I had to flour everything. The flour got on the floor. Penny started to eat the flour. More flour fell on the floor, and suddenly our all-black dog looked like this. 

 Al and I started a new tradition last week, whereby when he finishes music class at Old Town, we walk over to Red Mango and share something. Last week was a smoothie, this week is ice cream. I'm pretty sure those are the only two things you can get there, so that's as exciting as that's going to get.

 I love my family and I love my friends, but I like really love this dog.

 Penny and I took a 2 hour walk last night, and saw lots of spring bloomin's.

 This was the strangest and best looking tulip I've ever seen. (Also I'm watching Bulls/Heat while writing this and I'm trying SO hard to keep all these captions happy and lovely because this game is so sososososososososososo BAD.)

 Dogwoods smell so bad. Thankfully there are enough apple blossoms to counteract them.

Every morning I drive past what used to be Cabrini Green, and it's my favorite place to take photos of the skyline, even though you can't even see the Sears Tower. There's just something hopeful about this view, as desolate as it looks. 

 Penny trying to decide if she wants to give up on the walk and just take the el home.

 My favorite door in Chicago. A few years ago, I went with two friends to a Halloween party, and we had one of the funnest nights of our lives -- but either on the way to the party or the way home, we passed this door. I'm pretty sure somebody stopped to pee in the alley next to it, but I just stood in front of it, in awe of how beautiful it was/is. I smile every time I pass it, both because of the memory and because of its beauty. 

 There's a bunch of weird art like this in front of the preschool -- probably would have been a pretty fun place to go to school. 

 You don't say. 

 Can't get enough.

And lastly, home. At 5:45 am. I've realized that the hour between 5 and 6 am is my favorite of the day. I've also realized that home is my favorite place in the world, and although I spend all my time in Chicago, I don't actually feel like I live here. I like small town life. In almost every aspect, I prefer that over being in the city. The aspect that keeps me in Chicago? Pizza availability, 24 hours a day. Any kind you want. Amazing. 

For good

I was Catholic schooled until I graduated high school. Among other things, this meant boring uniforms, small classes, and amazing teachers. Those men and women, who taught me all the important stuff, are the people I admire most. They taught me how to read, how to multiply, how to dissect, how to analyze, and most importantly, how to think. They are those kinds of everyday heroes that people are always talking about. They stayed at the same schools, year after year, passing along book knowledge and street smarts to the best of their ability. And although I had a few notable professors in college, there was something about those Catholic school teachers that just got me to listen to, respect, and admire them. They were the ones who (unknowingly) planted the little seed in my head that's still there -- the one about becoming a teacher myself.

My English teachers in high school were particularly notable, as English teachers tend to be, and I mean that in the best way. Two years with Mrs Hansen and one with Mrs Sowinski. Those women are two of the best teachers I've ever had, but most importantly, two of the best people I've ever known.

I learned some awful news this morning, the kind of news you hear and just think to yourself, "no no no no no this isn't real that can't be right". Mrs. Hansen passed away. Subject, verb, adverb. But so, so much more than that.

I've spent all morning in a heap of sadness, trying to get through it and analyze it, just as she would want. And I've realized that I'm grieving for three different people. First of all, for Mrs Hansen herself. For her time on earth being cut way, way too short. For all the marathons she won't get to run, flowers she won't get to enjoy, songs she won't get to hear, books she won't get to read and subsequently teach. For the fact that she was simply a victim of life, and that her death perfectly fits the saying that bad things happen to the people who deserve it least. That woman was a light, and an inspiration, and a beauty. She deserved it least.

Secondly, I'm grieving in small part for myself. For losing a woman who had a huge impact on me, who taught me that short stories and long essays are wonderful things too often overlooked, and who always always always had a smile to share with me. I am grieving for myself that I'll never be able to see her in a Marian hallway again, or ask her advice, or invite her to my wedding one day. She would have been the best wedding guest, you know she would have.

Lastly, I'm grieving for the next however many generations of students, because they won't have the privilege of being taught by her. As cheesy as it sounds, she made learning fun. I looked forward to her class each day, even when that meant an hour of writing essays. She just made any room an enjoyable place to be for a little while. It was typical in our class to read a few chapters of a book for homework, then come in the next day with a filled out list of discussion questions to go over. And although I did alright in school in general, I never overachieved like I did in that class. I raised my hand regularly, because she made our opinions feel welcomed. She didn't judge, she didn't lose her patience. She welcomed not only our thoughts and opinions, but our entire lives. She knew what was going on in the extracurricular and personal lives of most of us, but she still walked that thin line of teacher/student trust perfectly. I grieve knowing that although there are other great teachers, there will never be another Mrs Hansen.

My senior year of high school, Mrs Hansen taught a small group of us an AP English class. I don't know what the situation surrounding it was exactly, I only knew that she didn't particularly want that job because there was too much pressure. She was the kind of woman who would lose sleep worrying about all of us passing the AP test at the end of the year. Even though she was the best teacher I had, she still worried about not being good enough. Although she had a huge wealth of knowledge and many years of teaching experience under her belt by that time, she still spent the entire summer preparing to teach us AP English. She wanted to learn as much as she possibly could, in order to teach us as much as she possibly could. In a word, she was selfless. Needless to say, we all passed that exam with flying colors. And all, all, all because of her.

In the coming days, weeks, and months, many of us will be speaking out about our admiration of and love for Mrs. Hansen. We will triple check all of our grammar and spelling, because it would be a disservice to her to get careless about those things. But truthfully, although I'm grateful she taught me so much about books and spelling and how to write essays, that's not what I will remember about her. What I will remember are the casual conversations I had with her about everyday life, the less casual conversations we had about my future, and the incredible beauty that radiated from her. For me, and for many others, she was that teacher. The one who stuck with you long after class was over. The one who did more than teach; she inspired.

On my last day as one of her students, she played for our classroom a song that she said reminded her of us. That song was "For Good" from the Wicked soundtrack. I remember sitting in my desk, tearing up just as I'm doing now, looking at her and thinking I would never meet another woman like her. And I haven't, and I won't. Because Mrs Hansen changed me. For good.

Rest in peace Mrs Hansen. You will be so, so missed.