A little bit of sadness.

Today was the first day that I felt a little twinge of sadness about leaving Washington. This last week has really snuck up on me. Especially with the hurricane forcing us to work from home earlier this week, today was my first foray back to work and my first realization that I’m leaving in three short days.

Wow.

I can’t believe two years have gone this fast. There have been so many beautiful things about DC. So much history and free museums. Really excellent food and quirky neighborhoods. Great shopping and plays and events. The possibility of running into a famous politician or seeing an Obama motorcade or maybe even a celebrity. It’s the place our country began, and I’m continually humbled when I walk a few blocks to pick up lunch and realize that I’m standing on the same ground as the men who build this nation. I see the Washington monument every day. I live three miles from Arlington Cemetery. My office is two blocks from the White House. It’s a pretty incredible place.

This was also the place I became an adult. I turned 25 living here. I learned how to really live on my own. I made some great friends; I ended one job and started another; I learned how to make a roast. I’ve lived in my solitary 600 square feet and learned so much about life and love and work and friendships. And it’s been really great….except for how much I’ve missed the rest of my life in Pittsburgh. It’s so hard for me to believe that two of the two-and-a-half years that M and I have been together have been 250 miles apart. I love that our relationship has survived this challenge, and I’m so excited for what the next years will bring. I’ve missed the girls that were my high school best friends, several of whom live in Pittsburgh now and I dearly miss. And ever since my uncle passed away, I’ve been more glaringly aware that my parents are getting older and that I need to spend as much time with them as I can.

Even though a job pays the bills and brings a lot of relevance and importance to my life, these other things are not even comparingly important. And admitting this feels really good. I’m so excited to leave my job at work at come home to our new house to spend the evening with M. I’m excited to make dinner and go to the gym and watch network television with people that I love instead of sitting alone in my apartment and worrying about the next work day. I hate the stressed, angry and bitter person my current position has made me, and I’m gratefully looking forward for a change to start over. Both personally and professionally.

So even though I’ll miss the fame and the food and the fantastic-ness of Washington, nothing can compare to the love and the family and the home that I’m coming to in Pittsburgh. I can’t wait to see all of you.

To starting over,

Lia

Ruin is the road.

This will probably be a short one. It’s after midnight on Sunday night. I’m snuggled on the couch watching “Eat, Pray, Love” up way past my bedtime because I know that I’ll be working from home tomorrow. I’m not-so-eagerly anticipating Hurricane Sandy, which is supposed to drive through Washington tomorrow afternoon. I’ve heard mixed opinions on the severity of the storm. The forecast doesn’t look catastrophic, but the social media seems to think it’s going to be a big one. Either way, I’ve stockpiled a case of water and more junk food than I’ve ever had in this apartment at one time. (I also bought 4 apples and a container of watermelon chunks in an attempt to balance out my Whole Foods cart.) My bathtub is full of water in the event that we lose water pressure and can’t flush the toilet. Promptly after filling the bathtub, I realized I had no idea how to manually flush a toilet and spent the next 20 minutes watching demonstrative YouTube videos. I don’t own a flashlight, but I have dozens of candles and I bought a new lighter, so I’m hoping that will suffice. I also have several plastic packing bins stacked up in the corner, and I’m wondering if a power outage might be a slight blessing in encouraging me to start the brutal packing process I’ve been avoiding all weekend.

But after eating a burrito and peanut butter puffin cereal (you know, in case I don’t see unpackaged food for weeks), I parked it on the couch for an indulgent TV marathon. Two of my favorites were on tonight: Revenge and Keeping Up with the Kardashians. The, after scaring myself by watching the 11 p.m. weather coverage, I was flipping through the channels to find something easier to watch when I found this Julia Roberts favorite. I know a lot of people didn’t love the book because they found it whiny, indulgent, self-involved. I don’t disagree, it certainly was all of those things, but that’s just exactly why I loved it. I need stories about women pulling themselves out of sorrow-filled situations and finding joy and peace in simple and beautiful things. I love these stories, and I need these stories because I’m not an overly optimistic woman, and I frequently let myself get wrapped up in stress or misery or self-doubt without a logical plan to get myself out of it.

So tonight I’m watching Julia and thinking about all the beautiful work her character is doing in her life. One line in particular touched me tonight: “ruin is the road to transformation.” How lovely and true. Great ruin, those big, sloppy, gut-wrenching feelings that drop us to the very bottom are just the moments that can push us upright again. Sometimes we need to see the deepest, darkest moments to realize that we need transformation. However, my path to transformation is not always enlightened. Usually, in fact, it’s riddled with fights and tears and angry words that I don’t mean. It’s pieced together by oversleeping and over-caffeinating and over-eating. Let’s face it, I don’t have pretty transformation, which is especially annoying because when I think about transformation, I think about waking early and going on long walks while conversing with God. About going to yoga and eating salads and showering daily. I wish that were me. But that’s what I’m striving for in this “new” life that starts in just one week: a more beautiful transformation. A little more forgiveness, and little more attention paid to myself and those around me. And what a perfect season to work on this transformation than the beginning of the holiday season. November is a season for thanks and peace and reflecting on the beauty and challenges of the year before, and looking forward with hope and great expectations for the year to come.

So I’m watching this lovely movie and hoping that Hurricane Sandy is merciful on the East Coast this week. And hoping that I don’t eat myself entirely out of house and home.

To beautiful transformations,

Lia

Sweet moments.

I know, I know. I’m super delinquent. I could offer you rounds of excuses, but you’ve heard them all before. So today I’m just going to barrel ahead with what’s been on my mind.

If you’re a blog reader, you’ve probably seen this blog trend for the month of October: 31 days of “Back to Basics” blogging. If you’re reading this, you probably know that 31 days of consecutive blogging is probably more than I can handle at this juncture. However, I’ve been reading lots of blogs and been reminded daily of the grace and joy we are given through simple experiences with our friends and family.

All of this loveliness has reminded me of one of the sweetest moments of the summer, in my recollection. I think I might have written a few months ago about the 80^th birthday celebration we had for my grandmother. I can still remember our trip to New York City for Grammy’s 70^th birthday. We really blew it out with a suite at the Plaza, tickets to “The Lion King” on Broadway, fancy dinners, a trip to “The Today Show” and LOTS of shopping. It was probably one of the most fun weekends of my teenage years. But this year she turned 80 and wanted nothing more than a special dinner with all of her family.

We had a really beautiful dinner at a fantastic Italian restaurant just a few neighborhoods away from where my grandparents have lived for nearly their entire lives. The room was beautiful, the table was full, the food was excellent and I think we avoided ruining the dining experience of the patrons around us. Family dinners are always awesome. But what made this particular dinner even more special was the toast offered by my grandfather.

My mom and her sisters tell stories about growing up with my grandfather and the strict discipline he enforced in their house. There were bedtimes and punishments and requirements that seem so out of character for my laid-back, generous grandfather. Pop-Pop is always the first one to wrap his grandkids up in bear hugs and slip twenty dollar bills into our palms. He’s filling up coolers with Snapple Iced Teas for long car trips and always offering to fix anything that’s broken. Apparently the years have softened my mom’s rigid father into the loving grandfather that I know. So I wasn’t entirely surprised when he rose to make a toast to my grandmother. What did surprise me were the loving words he had for her.

He began by thanking my grandmother for giving him his family. For all of the people sitting around the table who had so wonderfully enriched their lives. For being the matriarch of our family and giving us a beautiful example of love. Then he went on to recite a few lines from one of Rodgers & Hammerstein’s most famous musicals, “The Sound of Music.”

A bell’s not a bell ‘til you ring it,

A song’s not a song ‘til you sing it,

Love in your heard wasn’t put there to stay,

Love isn’t love ‘til you give it away.

Then he looked right at her and said, “And Dot, that’s still the way I feel about you.”

It was so simple, but so honestly heartfelt and tender, that I (of course) was immediately crying. I could just picture my gentle grandfather sitting up in their bedroom memorizing the lyrics to recite at dinner. The fact that he loves this woman enough after 60 years of marriage to memorize song lyrics for her just overflows my heart with joy. That’s the kind of happiness I want to remember this month.

So for the  next 14 days, I’ll be thinking about simple moments, even if I’m not blogging about them. And just four short days after that, I’ll be moving back to Pittsburgh—the biggest simple joy of all. And hopefully a source of more consistent blogging.

Until then.

To giving love away,

Lia