You Choo Choo Choose Me?

"And there's a picture of a train!"

Every Valentine's Day I can't help but think about the endearing reaction of little Ralphie Wiggum from The Simpsons when Lisa gives him this card for Valentine's Day. Granted, she gives it to him out of pity because there were no cards for him in his box, but the scene still makes my heart melt.

After reading a little too much into Lisa's card, Ralph then invites Lisa on a date to see Krusty the Clown Live. Because Lisa really wants to see the show, she plays along and agrees to go even though she doesn't like Ralph.

As Lisa has feared, the camera pans to them during the show and Ralph professes his love for her on TV. Embarrassed, Lisa finally loses her cool and shouts, "I don't like you. I never liked you. And the only reason I gave you that valentine is that nobody else would!"

Later, while watching a video of the show, Bart slows the tape down to show Lisa that "You can actually pinpoint the second when his heart rips in half."

Awww, poor Ralph! And while I've been on both sides of the rejection wall many times in my life, the first time I ever experienced heartbreak was in 3rd grade due to a Valentine's Day card gone awry.

I had had a crush on Jason since kindergarten. We were both left-handed, and on the first day of school, he taught me how to draw a star on the chalk board. You could say it was "love at first chalk drawing." Jason's birthday was also two days prior to mine, and when I found out that my mother and Jason's mother shared a hospital room in the maternity ward, I knew we were meant to be.

I continued to carry my obsession for my crush quietly through kindergarten, first, and second grades, but when third grade rolled around, I guess I thought that something finally needed to give. So, I did.

I was grocery shopping with my Mom one evening in February when we passed by the greeting card section in the store. The section was beaming with pink and red, an indication that Valentine's Day was just around the corner. I can't remember if it was my idea or my Mom's, but somehow it was determined that I needed to give Jason a "special" Valentine's Day card, while the rest of my classmates received chintzy 3x3 Barbie-themed valentines that came in sheets, and you had to separate the cards using the perforated lines.

After much browsing for the perfect card that would undoubtedly reveal my own pink & red feelings for Jason, I was confident with my final selection. In fact, I still remember the printed sentiment exactly. The cover read, "I'd give you my heart for Valentine's Day" - open the card - "but you've had it all along."

So on the night of February 13th, I busied myself with decorating my own receptacle for various cartoon-themed chintzy valentines to be received by me from my classmates. As was the tradition every year in elementary school, I cut a slot in an old shoe box and covered it with tin foil and various sizes of pink and red construction paper hearts. When I finished the box, I signed all of the Barbie cards to my classmates, as well as my card to Jason. I was prepared and excited for the greatest Valentine's Day of my life.

The next morning, I was feeling brave and I was armed with LOVE! What could go wrong?!

When it came time in school that day to distribute our cards, the sharply contrasted size of Jason's card compared to rest of the bunch did not go unnoticed by my classmates, and they didn't hesitate to annoyingly inquire. But I diligently ignored all questions and confidently headed up to the silver boxes lining the window sill when it was my turn. The distribution was going smoothly until I reached Jason's box, which was located roughly in the middle. I discovered right away that my giant card for him would not fit into the designated slot. I tried though. Oh boy did I try to stuff that puppy in there! But it just wouldn't fit. And a line was quickly forming behind me with my fellow students bumping into each other and stepping on each other's heels, confused as to the reason for the hold up. Frustrated, and no doubt with my cheeks totally bursting with crimson, I finally just opened the damn box top (ripping a construction paper heart or two in my haste), and jammed the card inside.

And after each remaining personalized card had been placed into its corresponding shiny shoe box, I casually made my way back to my seat. And now it was time to wait. Time to wait and stare with anticipation for Jason's reaction to my professed love.

Now, I've been thinking about it a lot, and for the life of me I just cannot remember what on earth I expected to happen when Jason opened my big ass valentine. But the reality of what resulted can be compared to the scene in National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation when Clark drags the whole family out of the house and creates much fanfare in anticipation for viewing the Christmas lights he'd  been installing all day, only for his elaborate illumination efforts to fail. During this scene, you hear the orchestral music swell, and when the millions of tiny bulbs don't light up, the music immediately cuts off, save for symbols crashing off beat.

Even though I had accidentally torn one of Jason's construction paper hearts on his box, my giddy anticipation compared to Jason's face failing to light up after opening my card caused my heart to tear. His face was so expressionless while reading the card -the card I had so carefully and painstakingly selected- that you would've thought he'd been reading from the list of that week's spelling words.

If there had been video recorded of the third grade Valentine's Day party at Richardson Elementary that day, you could have slowed down the tape and actually pinpointed the second when my heart ripped in half.

I had been crushed by my crush!

The outcome may not have been what I had hoped for, but as I look back on that situation as an adult, I'm actually really proud of myself for having taken that risk. And sometimes, I wish I was still just as ballsy as that knobby kneed 3rd grader.

And although it has been a million years since my very own St. Valentine's Day massacre, I'm still somewhat weary about giving V-Day cards. Which is the reason why, even though I love arts and crafts, I chose to avoid a panic attack by respectfully declining a friend's invitation to a Valentine's Day card making party at Paper Source only a few weeks ago.

Intention Retention

In reference to my previous post, I had an immeasurable amount of success with "setting my intention" for the entire week last week. Not only did I stick with it, but I've been inspired to set a weekly intention going forward.

I'll admit that staying focused last week wasn't always easy. There was a time or two when I'd catch myself ruminating about one thing or another, and I would then need to remind myself, "For crying out loud, Steph! Stay in the F@#$ing moment!" I also found myself repeating the words, "positive thoughts and outcomes, positive thoughts and outcomes" quite a bit, which has carried over into this week as well.

Setting my intention for the week was an excellent experiment, and the experience really drove home the fact that our good fortune is mostly a result of our good intentions. And while it's crucial to have faith and trust in the process of life, it's crucial to passionately engage in that process too.

On a partially related note, a couple weekends ago I was having dinner with my closest friends, and I agreed to share a bottle of Evolution wine with one of my best girls, Jennie, after she very enthusiastically discovered it on the menu and told me it was her absolute favorite. Upon consuming my half, I agreed that it was indeed very delicious. So delicious, in fact, that last weekend I checked to see if it is sold at Target. Much to my delight, it is!

Upon scooping up a bottle from the shelf and reading the label, I discovered that Evolution wine is a combination of several different types of white wines. The creators named it "Evolution" because they tried & tested, mixed & matched, and built one upon the other until they reached a flavor so magnificent that they deemed it fit to share with the world.

The label also notes that the creators of Evolution wine shun the idea that dumb luck is responsible for the successful outcome, and instead tout the intention of their masterpiece. And as you can probably guess, I instantly decided it was a sign to buy a bottle as a reward for setting my own intentions to evolve.

Good Intentions

I know I talk about yoga a lot in my blog, but it really is the one time during my week when I'm not only forced to slow down and be absolutely focused for an entire hour and fifteen minutes, but it's also the one place where the lessons I learn can be applied to nearly every other aspect of my life.

This morning I'm thinking about "setting my intention," just as we are told to set our intention prior to each yoga class. I'm pretty good about picking a different intention in yoga each week, such as focusing on strength, or confidence, or balance, etc. And I'm really good about concentrating on that intention for the entire duration of the class, but I just wish that my good intentions for yoga followed me outside of the studio more often than not.

So, instead of limiting myself to setting an intention for approximately one hour, once a week, I thought I'd set an intention for the entire week, which is simply "to have a very good week."

 I realize that statement is quite broad, so here is a detailed outline regarding what is currently on my mind:

a.) I will focus on positive thoughts and outcomes. 
b.) I will do whatever I have to do to bring myself up whenever I catch myself feeling down and not super confident.
c.) I will not "cheat myself" during any part of my workouts this week - no matter how painful they may be!
d.) I will not ruminate about my job dissatisfaction, and will instead remember to make the best of a not-so-perfect situation.
e.) I will remember to count my blessings and be thankful for what I already have and for the wonderful people in my life.
f.) I will focus on remembering the fact that "pushing through" set-backs and challenges is a big part of being successful.

I just had to re-read this list 900 times, if only to let these intentions really sink in. The items on this list sound nice and all, but they mean nothing if I don't actually believe them and keep them in the forefront of my brain. Maybe I should create flash cards or something and memorize them since that method worked so well for studying in college?

Anyway, whether positive or negative, "self-fulfilling prophecy" is a very powerful idea, and I truly believe that one can positively alter their experiences based on the personal decision to proceed through life with a passion for great expectations.

Leggo my Legos

This photo makes me giggle for several reasons:

1. My brother snapped this in the toy section at Target because he couldn't stop laughing when he saw it.
2. Not only does this little Lego lady sort of resemble yours truly, but the description does too (except for the part about being bossy! Whatevs!).
3. Legos remind me of one of my most cherished Brother vs. Sister stories.

As a kid, I could spend hours and hours alone entertaining myself. Playing with my Barbie dolls, drawing, riding my bike and pretending it was a school bus - I always found a creative outlet and rarely found myself bored. My little brother, Eric, on the other hand, required constant attention and companionship. You can imagine how this personality conflict would affect my annoyance level and ruin my life at times, right?

The one thing my brother and I did have in common, though, was playing with Legos together. For years we'd build, then tear down, and then rebuild what we called "S.E.L.M. City," which stood for "Steph, Eric, Legos, and Micro Machines." S.E.L.M. City was a mountainous railroad town. Literally. My Dad nailed down train tracks from a train set onto an old box spring and set it up in our basement. Inside the tracks we displayed brown rocks that we gathered from outside, naming them the "Chocolate Mountains." We also had a Micro Machine's gas station set up in our little town (If you don't remember what Micro Machines are, think half-sized matchbox cars!). And in addition to the mountains and gas station, we built tremendous houses out of Legos.

To this day you could put a bucket of Legos in front of me, and I'd be occupied for hours. There's just something about the building, the creating, and the rush you get when you finally find that rare and elusive 2-pronged piece you've been (noisily) searching for, which is an elation that can be likened to finding that one last quarter needed for laundry while searching in a sea of a million other coins. Jackpot!

Constructing houses out of Legos was one of the few activities that didn't usually end in a fight between me and my little brother. Enjoying the journey rather than the destination was of utmost importance when drafting our blue prints for S.E.L.M. City. Our little Lego dudes rarely got to enjoy all that S.E.L.M. City had to offer though, because once we were finished, we'd tear it down and work on something bigger and better.

(As a side note, my little Lego dude was named "Bob Costas," which never failed to make my brother snicker. I don't know why I chose that name, other than the fact that his snap-on helmet-like hairpiece reminded me of the the guy I'd seen on TV jabbering on and on about sports during a good portion of my youth.)

Anyway, I was more artistic and patient than my brother, so my houses always looked a lot better than his. I'd take great care never point this out to him, though, and I would always encourage him any time he requested that I check out his progress.

What the little brother didn't know at the time, and still hasn't caught on to this day, however, is that I hoarded all the "good pieces." I  secretly kept a stash of potted plants, kitchen sinks, "glass" French doors, etc. So, while my MTV's Cribs worthy masterpiece boasted skylights and pristine plastic landscaping, my brother's house looked more like the Lego equivalent of a cinder block garage.

But one day, for reasons I still cannot fathom other than I was probably just annoyed by his presence, I thought he should know that my house was worlds better than his. I couldn't stop giggling at his mismatched red/yellow/white walls and sparse "furniture." Even as I witnessed the furor and rage build up on his face, I just couldn't stop myself from hurling the criticism. The next thing I knew, my lavish Lego mega mansion was destroyed beyond all recognition.

And at that very moment, it hit me. Man, I'm a real a-hole, I thought. I deserved for my Lego mansion to be smashed to bits! But all I could do was stare at the wreckage in silence with my jaw dropped.

The silence was then only broken by a whimper from my little brother. He felt so guilty for what he'd done that he started crying and apologizing. He hugged me, which only made me feel bad that he felt so bad.

From that day forward, we never had another "incident" while Lego-ing. An unspoken -but very strict!- law was immediately enacted requiring us to always respect each other's Lego houses while they stood proudly within the jurisdiction of the oval-shaped railroad city. In other words, I silently agreed to never again hurl harsh criticism, and he silently agreed to never again hurl my handiwork across the playroom.

I think we both quietly understood that our quality bonding time spent building Lego houses was special, and that we didn't want to ruin it, especially because we already spent plenty of time fighting over sink space while brushing our teeth.

Finally, feeling guilty myself for being such a brat when I clearly had an unfair advantage regarding construction materials, I decided to sneak some of the "good pieces" back into the communal Lego bucket that day. Despite my generous effort, though, Eric's Lego houses continued to resemble little brightly colored prison cells, but I (wisely) kept that thought to myself.

Departing Rumination Station

A lot of strength is required to admit a personal weakness.

And discovering a flaw about yourself only to realize that it has always been a part of you can be quite startling, not to mention, humbling.

Or, maybe you have always been somewhat aware that you harbored a certain weakness, but you didn't think it was too big of a deal until it became a real problem.

Regardless, sometimes that newly unearthed flaw reveals itself to you (or you are reminded of it) exactly at a point when it's not only absolutely necessary for you to see it, but when you are open and honest enough with yourself to recognize it.

I recently read an article about the unhealthy habit of "ruminating." The basic meaning of this word is "to mull something over" .... and over and over again, with no resolution or end in sight.

As I was reading the article, my jaw dropped, I gasped, and I nodded my head in agreement (Ok, not really, but I was that dramatic in my head) because I was immediately hit with the fact that I'm extremely guilty of this habit! I irrationally dwell on the past, am often indecisive about the present, and I stress about the future! I mean, I know I've always been susceptible to over-analyzing and "thinking too much," but according to the article, "ruminating" serves zero purpose, can be emotionally harmful, and can even prevent one from moving forward in life, not unlike running on a treadmill without an "off" button.

The caveat to being a highly reflective being, I suppose, is harboring an unnecessary proclivity for rumination.

It is now perfectly obvious to me that there is a fine line between the healthy act of examining life, as the philosopher Socrates famously encouraged, and teetering on the edge of falling so deeply into your head that you struggle to climb back out of it.

Therefore, going forward, I vow to concentrate more on living in the moment. Sounds easy, right? Just let it all go like tossing confetti into the air? What a liberating thought! But for this overactive mind, it's simply not that simple. So, how does one really stop the destructive cycle of "rumination?"

Like any bad habit, it's nearly impossible to flip a switch to shut it off. But, there are several ongoing methods that work for me in my perpetual struggle to be truly present in every moment:

Yoga Lessons for The Real World  
Like the message I often hear from instructors while practicing yoga, "if you catch your mind wandering, concentrate on your breathing to bring yourself back to the present."

So often I find myself in a difficult yoga pose, and the second my concentration wanes, I lose my balance. The very same thing happens to me outside of the yoga studio when I'm not trying to hold Warrier 3, and the simple act of focusing on my breathing helps me to regain control of my thoughts.

Blogging/Journaling
Blogging and writing in my journal is a great way to purge the clutter in my head. I find that once those thoughts are dispensed and organized in a clear and concise manner, I feel refreshed and relieved. Don't get me wrong - whatever subject I write about remains important to me, it's just that once those thoughts are released into the Bloggosphere, they no longer fruitlessly and frustratingly tumble around in my noggin.

Ending Each Day on a Positive Note
Per my #9 goal from my 2012 Bucket List, I've been dutifully noting in my planner one positive aspect from each day. 18 days into the new year, and this goal has already made a huge impact on me! It's amazing how much more you are able to appreciate every single day as it comes when you force yourself to reflect on just one positive aspect, however seemingly small.

And finally,

Jewelry
No, I don't mean using retail therapy as a way to distract me from wayward thoughts. Incidentally, the day I began working on this post I had dinner with mis tres amigas favoritas that night, and they surprised me with a necklace they purchased for me after being inspired by this blog post.

The charm with the "?" represents dealing with uncertainty.
The garnet charm represents "vitality, courage, passion, and love."
The smoky quartz charm "calms and help manifest dreams."
The iolite charm "opens the mind, helps one to stay in the moment."

Megan, Sara & Jennie appeared in my life when I was dealing with severe uncertainty and needing true friends the most. Along with their friendship, the meaning behind this necklace will serve as a continuous reminder to live in the moment, to be encouraged by my passions, and be grateful for my tremendous blessings, which largely includes my best girls.

2012 Bucket List

"Our truest life is when we are in dreams awake." - Henry David Thoreau

My mind is constantly swirling with goals, dreams, and the constant quest to learn and grow. I'm excited to begin a new year working to achieve goals, turn dreams into realities, and evolve into a better me. Also, because one of my biggest fears is boredom, and because setting so many different goals in 2010 led me down paths I never fathomed I'd cross, I'm beginning 2012 with a whole new list of goals. Some small, some big, but I'm hoping that working to achieve each of these will contribute to making 2012 one of the best years yet!

12 Goals for 2012

1. Run a half marathon. Oh boy. I had to pause several times before typing this. I've always made fun of anyone who would ever want to run for longer than an hour, but here I am, setting this ridiculous goal.


2. Go to the Green Mill at least once this year, even if it's by myself. I love jazz, and nothing is more "Chicago" to me than the Green Mill. It quickly became one of my most favorite places in the city soon after I moved to Chicago, and yet I've only been there once since moving just blocks from the place.


3. Read all of the unread books on my bookshelf.


4. Attend Sunrise Yoga on Montrose Beach at least once this summer - because not many people can roll out of bed, walk to a beach, and practice yoga while watching the sun rise over the lake. The challenge for me, you see, is getting up at 6:00am on a Saturday.


5. Beat my 5k PR and beat my 8k PR. 


6. Partake in a new volunteer opportunity. 


7. Learn to cook something really challenging. I've really developed my cooking skills since setting a goal to make 3 new recipes a few years ago. I cook for myself weekly, and I even bake mostly from scratch now. But I want to see what I can do with something that would totally take me out of my comfort zone.


8. Learn how to "stand up paddle board" - because I want a cool reason to utilize all the core strength for which I work so hard!


9. Document one positive aspect about each day. This idea came from my brother. He coaches high school golf, and when he noticed a pattern of his players getting down on themselves and being extremely negative regarding their abilities, he had them each start a journal documenting one positive thing they did each day. So, although I'm not a negative person, I'm still going to record one positive aspect daily in my planner for 365 days, and then I'll create a post at the end of the year listing them.


10. Work out more than 223 days - which is what I accomplished in 2011. I want to beat that number only because I like competing against myself!


11. Take a vacation. I don't care where or how long/short, I just want to go someplace I've never been.


12. Lastly, I'd like to be a better friend. This includes making an effort to see friends in Ohio when I'm there. Life is too short to keep letting years go by without spending time with people who have made a significant positive impact on my life. Oh and, um, if the opportunity arises, I'd like to be a pretty awesome girlfriend.

What is Love?

Love is.... playing nurse and dutifully following the doctor's instructions for tending to an infection on my nephew's (very ticklish) foot on Christmas Eve - without complaining or cringing.

I'm a very good aunt.

Also, I hope he remembers that moment when I'm 90 years old and need him to drive me to the grocery store or bingo or something.