Wonderland

Teacups, tall hats, tit-mouse and tales...all of these things and more are why I love the mad hatter and hare the best in Alice and Wonderland. The Queen scared me, the twins irritated me (even then I didn't like children) but the long, long table with teacups overflowing, chipped, piled high and spouting steam always made me long for a way to pull up one of those high-backed chairs. Sitting around a table with friends and loved ones, telling jokes, laughing at their stories and practically knowing exactly what the next story would be and the pleasant surprise of a new one. That is the place I would want to rest if I ever fell down the rabbit hole...

Strong

After only a few hours sleeping, getting up for a one-on-one training session was not something I was particularly looking forward to. However, I did it. I was even early. My sore quads and droopy eyes continue to remind me how much work I put into this morning's session. And even more of a reminder of how much work I've put into transforming the little (not so much) ol' body of mine. I never thought I would run a 5K once a week. I never thought I would budget and prioritize a twice-weekly personal training session. I never thought I would feel (gasp) athletic. Truly, it has been something that has helped me stay sane. I may not get around to working on my thesis everyday, or doing the dishes, or catching up on all those books I planned on reading this summer. But I rarely miss a workout. And I like that about me now. It gives me strength and peace and that's all any recently-turned 25 year old can ask for. Isn't it? (and no, I'm not either of the blondes in the photos above and below...just inspiring)

The tears are coming

I am nearing my 25th birthday. 25 has always been a year of importance to me - some have 30, others reach 27, 48 or 60 and think back on their lives and consider their futures. Mine is 25. This is probably because I truly do cherish and hold the value of youth high, the weight of age and forgetfulness, slowing down and losing touch frightens me so I suppose by beginning to look back and plan forward should begin earlier for me than others. Turning 25 next week terrifies me. I feel as if I no longer have any excuse to live a life of a child without anything significant being done or experienced. I can only serve food and go to school in this Midwest town for so long before I self-destruct. I do not want to be numb. I want to be enthused by everything and everyone that I meet and encounter. I want to write about my experiences and I want to have experiences to write about. I love my family dearly and will miss them terribly, but I just know there are other families out there waiting for me...other groups that have arms wide open waiting for my arrival. And yes, I am terrified. I do not want to go anywhere alone and I feel like there is a greater part of me that wants to remain here, play it safe, and grow old in the veritable midsection of the country. And perhaps I can. Would it be financially possible to own a home here and afford to travel the world? I don't have any answers right now. Apologies for the rambling but I find myself in a place of rambling, scraping for answers and direction and the discipline it takes to be productive and happy. The tears are coming...farewell for now.