Friday, May 13
Tuesday, May 10
The Adventure Continues
So, I suppose that the first post that I write after I quit my job to write full time should be on an enlightened topic. I could write about the "easy way" to start your own freelancing business, how to get the gumption to walk into your boss's office and quit your less-than-stellar job in corporate America in chase of "the dream." I could tell you that working for yourself is exactly like in the movies. Adorable casual clothes, coffee shops, all the time in the world to do your laundry, look perfect for every outing, and send all your friends birthday gifts on time.
If I wrote about all of those things, I'd be lying.
The truth is, that April 15th was my last day of work in corporate America -- for now. I don't think I publicized much how much I hated my job, but I worked as an insurance adjuster, dealing with injuries from car accidents. For those of you that know me, it was likely the most ill-suited career I could have ever chosen. I just can't do glass-half-empty all day. I need passion and creativity, something that was seriously lacking, even while on the office Events Committee. And so, I quit.
On the morning of April 18th, I woke up and went to work in my new office, my dining room. So far, working from home has been interesting. I did a lot of leg work. I got all new office equipment, including a brand new MacBook Pro laptop. It's lovely. The first few days flew by because I had quite a bit of work to do. It's the days that aren't so structured that are a bit odd. Like when I wake up and don't have any assignments from my clients, so I spend my entire morning searching for new work, doing research on writing, and brushing up on AP vs. Chicago Manual of Style; or I spend two hours comparing health plans. And then I find myself feeling guilty for having time to listen to the Fashion 140 conference online, and being able to throw myself completely into some guest blogs that I wrote.
The thing that I wasn't prepared for was all the alone time. I've lived out on my own for the last 12 years. I've had roommates at some points, and lived alone at others. I really don't have any problems spending time alone; that is until I was doing that very thing 24 hours a day, seven days a week for weeks at a time.
The last few days I've started to get a little stir crazy. I've started to doubt myself. I think, "do I really have what it takes to be a full-time writer? Do all my friends and family think I'm crazy? Are they secretly just waiting for me to fail and come crawling to them for help?"
I know these thoughts are ludicrous, but you get a LOT of time to think about your life when you don't have physical contact with the outside world. I mean, I go to the gym, and have dinner with friends, but I've never spent so many large chunks of time with myself. And I'm starting to think that having this much time to think when I'm in the last few weeks of my twenties is possibly a bad idea.
I've always been an over achiever. I set extremely high standards for myself, and I'm pretty self-critical. When I was twenty years old, I thought I'd be living in NYC and working at a big magazine by now. Or I thought I might be in Nashville following my dream of singing. If anything I thought I'd be in a serious relationship, and possibly married. I never thought I'd be single, living in Fort Worth, Texas, having just quit my job, and essentially starting my career from scratch. Over the last few months, I just felt like my life was heading in a direction that just didn't make any sense to me. The more I prayed about it, the more I felt like I was supposed to start over again. I sincerely believe that God doesn't give people talents that he doesn't want them to use. In my heart of hearts, I think He wants every person to use every bit of talent they've been given. Because of that belief, I'm hoping that this bout of loneliness and doubt will pass quickly. I know there is an extremely confident women lurking inside me who just knows that big things are on the horizon. It's one of those "heart vs. head" moments. I just don't know which one will win this round.
In the mean time, I'm recommitting to my blog again. I will share my life's adventures with the few people that choose to read it. And for those of you that do, I really appreciate it. I know that even if no one reads it, it's the most therapeutic thing in the world to me. At the end of each victory and set back, I can come here and relish in how far I've come from even a year ago. And that in itself keeps me going.
Cheers,
If I wrote about all of those things, I'd be lying.
The truth is, that April 15th was my last day of work in corporate America -- for now. I don't think I publicized much how much I hated my job, but I worked as an insurance adjuster, dealing with injuries from car accidents. For those of you that know me, it was likely the most ill-suited career I could have ever chosen. I just can't do glass-half-empty all day. I need passion and creativity, something that was seriously lacking, even while on the office Events Committee. And so, I quit.
On the morning of April 18th, I woke up and went to work in my new office, my dining room. So far, working from home has been interesting. I did a lot of leg work. I got all new office equipment, including a brand new MacBook Pro laptop. It's lovely. The first few days flew by because I had quite a bit of work to do. It's the days that aren't so structured that are a bit odd. Like when I wake up and don't have any assignments from my clients, so I spend my entire morning searching for new work, doing research on writing, and brushing up on AP vs. Chicago Manual of Style; or I spend two hours comparing health plans. And then I find myself feeling guilty for having time to listen to the Fashion 140 conference online, and being able to throw myself completely into some guest blogs that I wrote.
The thing that I wasn't prepared for was all the alone time. I've lived out on my own for the last 12 years. I've had roommates at some points, and lived alone at others. I really don't have any problems spending time alone; that is until I was doing that very thing 24 hours a day, seven days a week for weeks at a time.
The last few days I've started to get a little stir crazy. I've started to doubt myself. I think, "do I really have what it takes to be a full-time writer? Do all my friends and family think I'm crazy? Are they secretly just waiting for me to fail and come crawling to them for help?"
I know these thoughts are ludicrous, but you get a LOT of time to think about your life when you don't have physical contact with the outside world. I mean, I go to the gym, and have dinner with friends, but I've never spent so many large chunks of time with myself. And I'm starting to think that having this much time to think when I'm in the last few weeks of my twenties is possibly a bad idea.
I've always been an over achiever. I set extremely high standards for myself, and I'm pretty self-critical. When I was twenty years old, I thought I'd be living in NYC and working at a big magazine by now. Or I thought I might be in Nashville following my dream of singing. If anything I thought I'd be in a serious relationship, and possibly married. I never thought I'd be single, living in Fort Worth, Texas, having just quit my job, and essentially starting my career from scratch. Over the last few months, I just felt like my life was heading in a direction that just didn't make any sense to me. The more I prayed about it, the more I felt like I was supposed to start over again. I sincerely believe that God doesn't give people talents that he doesn't want them to use. In my heart of hearts, I think He wants every person to use every bit of talent they've been given. Because of that belief, I'm hoping that this bout of loneliness and doubt will pass quickly. I know there is an extremely confident women lurking inside me who just knows that big things are on the horizon. It's one of those "heart vs. head" moments. I just don't know which one will win this round.
In the mean time, I'm recommitting to my blog again. I will share my life's adventures with the few people that choose to read it. And for those of you that do, I really appreciate it. I know that even if no one reads it, it's the most therapeutic thing in the world to me. At the end of each victory and set back, I can come here and relish in how far I've come from even a year ago. And that in itself keeps me going.
Cheers,
Monday, February 21
A New Adventure
Every teenage girl dreams of what she'll be when she "grows up." I've dreamed of seeing my name on a magazine masthead since high school. I would devour every morsel of each issue of In Style as it arrived in my mailbox; I quickly became addicted to the smell and texture of the glossy pages. My love for one magazine grew into two, three, and soon I was subscribing to upward of twelve magazines at any given time. If you asked for my vices, the check out line at the grocery store would top my list — I rarely leave the line without a shiny publication in hand. I received a B.A. in English from my beloved University, and I hit the pavement to find my dream job. After applying last-minute for a publishing institute in NYC and being wait listed, I settled for an editing job at an educational publishing company. A mere four years later, I got laid off. I sat befuddled at the young age of twenty-six; I was back at the drawing board, staring into the face of unemployment. I could not, would not, swallow my pride and move home with my parents. And so, I updated my resume and landed a new job.
Over the last four years, I've held jobs that were just that, jobs. They were not something that I in any way enjoyed. They were a paycheck, a means to an end. And slowly, I lost a little bit of what I loved most about my life; having a career that gave me real fulfillment. And so I started this blog. And after that, I began writing and editing for friend's blogs and other projects. I began rebuilding my portfolio and I've begun applying for actual writing and editing positions again. So where does the high school dream fit in? It finally came true! Since the entire point of this blog was that I would actually pursue my dreams, a friend asked if I'd like to edit and write a little copy for a start up magazine in Dallas. I kindly accepted, and enjoyed every minute of my assignments. They liked my work so much that they called to tell me that I will officially be listed on the masthead as a Contributing Editor/Copywriter. My little heart skipped several beats, and I was actually speechless. For those of you that know me, that's a rare occurrence. And so, the magazine went to print today, and I can't wait to share it with all of you. Even more importantly, I'm beyond excited to continue my writing and editing ventures for the upcoming issues. I know that the best is truly yet to come. Watch out world, L.A.J. is back in business.
Cheers,
Over the last four years, I've held jobs that were just that, jobs. They were not something that I in any way enjoyed. They were a paycheck, a means to an end. And slowly, I lost a little bit of what I loved most about my life; having a career that gave me real fulfillment. And so I started this blog. And after that, I began writing and editing for friend's blogs and other projects. I began rebuilding my portfolio and I've begun applying for actual writing and editing positions again. So where does the high school dream fit in? It finally came true! Since the entire point of this blog was that I would actually pursue my dreams, a friend asked if I'd like to edit and write a little copy for a start up magazine in Dallas. I kindly accepted, and enjoyed every minute of my assignments. They liked my work so much that they called to tell me that I will officially be listed on the masthead as a Contributing Editor/Copywriter. My little heart skipped several beats, and I was actually speechless. For those of you that know me, that's a rare occurrence. And so, the magazine went to print today, and I can't wait to share it with all of you. Even more importantly, I'm beyond excited to continue my writing and editing ventures for the upcoming issues. I know that the best is truly yet to come. Watch out world, L.A.J. is back in business.
Cheers,
Friday, December 31
A Big Goodbye
Big finally made his decision. And as I'm sure you can assume from the title of this blog, my finale with Mr. Big didn't end by standing on a bridge in Paris, him telling me I'm "the one." My ending was much less poetic. It began with an email that said he'd come to a decision and wanted to talk to me about it. So, on Thursday, December 2nd at 9 PM, my last phone call with Mr. Big began.
As Big began to talk about his week, I reflected on the last 5 years, and all the prayers and love that had gone into our relationship. I had a peace that whatever happened, I knew that it was God's plan. He really had no idea how to start this conversation, so after what seemed like the longest 10 minutes of my life, I finally urged him to get to the heart of the matter.
He sighed and asked me how to begin. I asked him the question that had needed an answer for entirely too long. Do you love me? There was a pregnant pause on the other end of the phone. He wavered on his answer for several minutes, and it was then I had my answer. If Big couldn't muster the courage to utter those three little words to me after all these years, he never would. The conversation went on for over an hour, & I said all of the things that I needed to say, the things that had weighed on my heart for years.
Getting off that phone call was one of the hardest things I've done in my life. I let go of my very best friend, my PERSON, in order to open the way for the future. My heart feels very empty. There have been many times in the last few weeks that I've wanted to call Big. Driving hone from work everyday is the very hardest time. We always talked then. It was our time. To admit that I cry many days on my drive now is hard. I wonder what he's doing, how his day was, and if he was able to secure the President for his big fundraiser. I wish Big nothing but happiness. I also know that letting him go will open my heart for the future & a good relationship with a man who is willing to give me his whole heart. I will continue to wait, be it for the rest of my life, to find a man to love me the way that I loved him.
I got a package from Big yesterday. A fitting way to end the year. Enclosed was the circle journal that I made him in July 2006, right after my first trip to visit him. It is something that was extremely special to Big, & something I had waited all these years to get back. He finally wrote in it. It was hard to read. To see how much my love for him had grown was much to take in, but a fitting way to close our chapter. Big was finally able to open up to me & tell me how he felt. I see how I was able to give him my heart, & how he really did know the real me, better than I ever thought he did. It was nice to know that men sometimes do notice the little things after all.
So, with another year under my belt, it's time to close this chapter and say hello to 2011. I am ready for it to bring all my passions to the surface & live the life that I was called to live. It's time to set aside all my fears & go get all the wonderful things that Gid has in store for me. Writing this blog has been such a great experience & one I will continue for many years. To all of you who read about my life, thank you. It's good to know that I'm not alone on this crazy journey. May each of you have a blessed New Year!
Cheers,
As Big began to talk about his week, I reflected on the last 5 years, and all the prayers and love that had gone into our relationship. I had a peace that whatever happened, I knew that it was God's plan. He really had no idea how to start this conversation, so after what seemed like the longest 10 minutes of my life, I finally urged him to get to the heart of the matter.
He sighed and asked me how to begin. I asked him the question that had needed an answer for entirely too long. Do you love me? There was a pregnant pause on the other end of the phone. He wavered on his answer for several minutes, and it was then I had my answer. If Big couldn't muster the courage to utter those three little words to me after all these years, he never would. The conversation went on for over an hour, & I said all of the things that I needed to say, the things that had weighed on my heart for years.
Getting off that phone call was one of the hardest things I've done in my life. I let go of my very best friend, my PERSON, in order to open the way for the future. My heart feels very empty. There have been many times in the last few weeks that I've wanted to call Big. Driving hone from work everyday is the very hardest time. We always talked then. It was our time. To admit that I cry many days on my drive now is hard. I wonder what he's doing, how his day was, and if he was able to secure the President for his big fundraiser. I wish Big nothing but happiness. I also know that letting him go will open my heart for the future & a good relationship with a man who is willing to give me his whole heart. I will continue to wait, be it for the rest of my life, to find a man to love me the way that I loved him.
I got a package from Big yesterday. A fitting way to end the year. Enclosed was the circle journal that I made him in July 2006, right after my first trip to visit him. It is something that was extremely special to Big, & something I had waited all these years to get back. He finally wrote in it. It was hard to read. To see how much my love for him had grown was much to take in, but a fitting way to close our chapter. Big was finally able to open up to me & tell me how he felt. I see how I was able to give him my heart, & how he really did know the real me, better than I ever thought he did. It was nice to know that men sometimes do notice the little things after all.
So, with another year under my belt, it's time to close this chapter and say hello to 2011. I am ready for it to bring all my passions to the surface & live the life that I was called to live. It's time to set aside all my fears & go get all the wonderful things that Gid has in store for me. Writing this blog has been such a great experience & one I will continue for many years. To all of you who read about my life, thank you. It's good to know that I'm not alone on this crazy journey. May each of you have a blessed New Year!
Cheers,
Monday, November 15
Big Comes to Texas
You read that correctly. He actually bought a ticket, got on a plane, and came to the Lone Star State. And we had the absolute best weekend that I could imagine. He came down to be my date for James and Alex's wedding, which was hands down one of the most fun celebrations that I've ever been a part of. Tied of course with Ally and Weston's wedding in October. (It's quite a season when two of your BFFs get hitched within 5 weeks of each other.)
All that being said, JJP, not John James Preston, but my Mr. Big, had a pretty great time on his trip. And he was an amazing sport, meeting 3 of the 4 BFFs, numerous other friends and family, and even meeting the parents. And despite the fact that he's a Yankee, a Democratic, and a huge Washington Redskin's fan, my parents, and all my Republican-minded friends loved him. Putting him on that plane back to New England was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. I cried the entire way back to my office, at 5:30 in the morning, listening to Rascal Flatts turned up as loud as it would go.
And after several long conversations throughout the weekend, and putting all the cards on the table, it's up to the real JJP to decide if he is ready to take the next step in our relationship. I love the man more than I can even express. He's incredibly thoughtful, witty, handsome, sarcastic, kind, uber-intelligent, staunch about his values, set in his ways, crabby at times, the best storyteller I know, and passionate about his causes to no end. He's a man's man, but dresses well, and he loves the cute, albeit irritating, things about me that most people just don't understand. He listens well (most of the time), and he's sensible 99% of the time; unless he's in in a mall with a Brooks Brother AND Nordstrom. But who can blame him for that? He's the kind of man I can see in my life, but would never have picked on my own. I wouldn't have had the guts to talk to someone so charming. And although not emailing Big back 5 years ago may have saved me past and future heartache, I wouldn't change any of it for a minute. I know that one day I'll tell my kids about the best date I've ever had, and it will be about a charming man from Maryland who surprised me, and continues to surprise me even after 5 years. If I'm not the woman that gets to spend my life with Big, I'll know it's because God has other people for each of us. I'll just be glad that I got to spend as much time with him as I did. It has taught me to never settle for anything but the simple sound of someone's voice making me grin from ear to ear.
All that being said, JJP, not John James Preston, but my Mr. Big, had a pretty great time on his trip. And he was an amazing sport, meeting 3 of the 4 BFFs, numerous other friends and family, and even meeting the parents. And despite the fact that he's a Yankee, a Democratic, and a huge Washington Redskin's fan, my parents, and all my Republican-minded friends loved him. Putting him on that plane back to New England was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. I cried the entire way back to my office, at 5:30 in the morning, listening to Rascal Flatts turned up as loud as it would go.
And after several long conversations throughout the weekend, and putting all the cards on the table, it's up to the real JJP to decide if he is ready to take the next step in our relationship. I love the man more than I can even express. He's incredibly thoughtful, witty, handsome, sarcastic, kind, uber-intelligent, staunch about his values, set in his ways, crabby at times, the best storyteller I know, and passionate about his causes to no end. He's a man's man, but dresses well, and he loves the cute, albeit irritating, things about me that most people just don't understand. He listens well (most of the time), and he's sensible 99% of the time; unless he's in in a mall with a Brooks Brother AND Nordstrom. But who can blame him for that? He's the kind of man I can see in my life, but would never have picked on my own. I wouldn't have had the guts to talk to someone so charming. And although not emailing Big back 5 years ago may have saved me past and future heartache, I wouldn't change any of it for a minute. I know that one day I'll tell my kids about the best date I've ever had, and it will be about a charming man from Maryland who surprised me, and continues to surprise me even after 5 years. If I'm not the woman that gets to spend my life with Big, I'll know it's because God has other people for each of us. I'll just be glad that I got to spend as much time with him as I did. It has taught me to never settle for anything but the simple sound of someone's voice making me grin from ear to ear.
Thursday, November 11
Privileged to Guest Blog
Here's another guest post for Unabashedly Prep. Privileged to write for such a great blog. Enjoy!
When I first picked up Susanna Salk’s book, A Privileged Life: Celebrating WASP Style
(Assouline), I wasn’t quite sure that I would identify with this somewhat shrouded demographic. I’m a Southern Prep from a world of hot toddies, pearls, and the SEC. A far cry, or so I thought, from champagne, riding boots, and Brown. After reading this lovely book, I found myself identifying with the traditional, intelligent, classic, and casual-yet-elegant aspects of this lifestyle and how it as a whole has contributed to the often-lost traditions in today’s American culture.
Ms. Salk shares her own treasured memories of her childhood and adolescence in the book. Growing up in Massachusetts, surrounded by ribbon belts, Ivy League lacrosse, cocktails, Nantucket summers, Pulitzer shifts, and monogrammed sweaters at Milton, she is the perfect example of a WASP woman.
The book beautifully explains how WASPs, like many Americans, identify with traditions, and how members of this demographic seem to almost freeze with time. They seem forever youthful, in their beloved forty-year-old camel coats, inherited summer homes, and their weekly Saturday morning brunch. WASPs define heritage, grace, joie de vivre, and formal without being fancy.
Although deeply rooted in tradition, the inherent definition of “WASP” has progressed through different eras and is a far cry from the original constraints of the word. While Salk’s parents emulated Grace Kelly and Cary Grant, her generation leaned toward Carole King and Ryan O’Neal. Today’s generation continues to add twists on the classics, but adhere to the tried-and-true preppie principles. The barriers to this elusive American style of living have been removed, allowing increased accessibility for current generations. Even if you didn't grow up summering in the Cape, you may find yourself living slivers of a privileged life after all.
Cheers,
When I first picked up Susanna Salk’s book, A Privileged Life: Celebrating WASP Style
(Assouline), I wasn’t quite sure that I would identify with this somewhat shrouded demographic. I’m a Southern Prep from a world of hot toddies, pearls, and the SEC. A far cry, or so I thought, from champagne, riding boots, and Brown. After reading this lovely book, I found myself identifying with the traditional, intelligent, classic, and casual-yet-elegant aspects of this lifestyle and how it as a whole has contributed to the often-lost traditions in today’s American culture.
Ms. Salk shares her own treasured memories of her childhood and adolescence in the book. Growing up in Massachusetts, surrounded by ribbon belts, Ivy League lacrosse, cocktails, Nantucket summers, Pulitzer shifts, and monogrammed sweaters at Milton, she is the perfect example of a WASP woman.Salk fills the pages with hundreds of photographs of famous WASPs, from Jackie, to Blythe Danner, Audrey Hepburn, Brooke Astor, Robert Redford, as well as many candid portraits of her friends and family. The lovely captions, and personal sentiments help the reader catch a real glimpse into this often emulated, yet misunderstood way of life.
The book beautifully explains how WASPs, like many Americans, identify with traditions, and how members of this demographic seem to almost freeze with time. They seem forever youthful, in their beloved forty-year-old camel coats, inherited summer homes, and their weekly Saturday morning brunch. WASPs define heritage, grace, joie de vivre, and formal without being fancy.
Although deeply rooted in tradition, the inherent definition of “WASP” has progressed through different eras and is a far cry from the original constraints of the word. While Salk’s parents emulated Grace Kelly and Cary Grant, her generation leaned toward Carole King and Ryan O’Neal. Today’s generation continues to add twists on the classics, but adhere to the tried-and-true preppie principles. The barriers to this elusive American style of living have been removed, allowing increased accessibility for current generations. Even if you didn't grow up summering in the Cape, you may find yourself living slivers of a privileged life after all.
Cheers,
Sunday, October 24
Sisters Weekend a.k.a. Every Man's Dream Vacation
So I FINALLY went on a vacation. A real, honest-to-God, vacation. Somewhere that I wanted to go. I wasn't in a wedding, throwing a shower, going to visit someone out of necessity. (Not that any of those things aren't fun.) For those of you that know me, it's often pointed out that I'm often so busy doing things for other people that I forget to do things for myself. So, this trip was two-fold. It was first, a surprise for my baby sister, Sissy. She's the BIGGEST Dallas Cowboys fan that I know, save myself. Now, please don't stop reading my blog if you hate the Cowboys. I promise that I will refrain from singing their praises in the future, unless they do the unthinkable and go to the Super Bowl.
I surprised Sissy with a trip to Canton, Ohio to the NFL Hall of Fame Enshrinement to see Emmitt Smith, her favorite player of all time, be inducted into the Hall. The icing on the cake was that the Cowboys happened to be selected to play in the Hall of Fame game. So, off we flew to Columbus, Ohio, to spend some time with out aunt & uncle, and then rented a car and drove 2 hours northeast to Canton.
The weekend began with a delicious meal at the Surly Girl Saloon. This was at the recommendation of a co-worker who hales from Columbus, and the great Ohio State University. The rec was spot on. The food was great, the beer and drink selections amazing, and the cupcakes, oh my lord. Best. Cupcake. Ever. I'm a Southern woman. To say that a yankee produced the best red velvet cupcake of my life is a bit of a slap in the face of both of my grandmothers, may they rest in peace. Needless to say, it's true. If you are from Columbus, please run and have one of these cupcakes.
After the meal, we headed up to campus to check out OSU. My aunt has been a professor there for over 30 years. She's a die-hard Buckeye, and made us swear we'd check out the Horseshoe. As a love of all things college football, I couldn't wait to see the legendary place. Many National Championship hopes have been dashed on this field, and it was a bit surreal to see all 105,000 seats empty. I could imagine the roar of the crowd in three weeks when OSU kicks off my favorite time of the year.
After seeing the campus, we headed over to Shore North to check out all the trendy boutiques, and have some ice cream at Jeni's, which has been featured on the Food Network. Par for the course, best ice cream of all time. The Salted Caramel melted in my mouth and enveloped my taste buds with salty meets sweet and cold, delicious creaminess. The Wildberry Lavender is something out of dreams. I may just have to break down and have some shipped to Texas to beat this debilitating heat.
We dropped off our aunt at her tre' fab downtown loft, and headed toward Canton. We collapsed into our bed and prepared for an eventful Saturday. We woke up and pilfered through piles of Cowboys t-shirts, hats, jerseys, and the like to select our gear for the trek. As we pulled up to the museum, we both let out squeals of joy at the large white tents full of merchandise and football legends. You might have thought we'd arrived at the world's largest outlet mall, but no, the J sisters love a good football game as much as an amazing deal on a pair of Stuart Weitzman's. We are well-rounded Southern women. Football is a religion, and one that our father baptized us into as a VERY early age. Sissy jokingly told our father that she wanted to attend Dallas Cowboys University when she was barely six years old. Dad had to explain that unfortunately, the Cowboys didn't have a school, and she would have to settle for a SEC or Southwest Conference school. We should have known that she was destined to be a Cowboys fanatic.
As we scurried out of the shoe-polished rental car, covered in phrases such as Dallas Divas, We love Emmitt, and Go Cowboys, the reality set in that we were finally here. After nine months of planning, we had made it to the football Mecca. When we approached the Hall, there were men decked out in jerseys and hats, as far as the eye could see. It was quite a welcome change to have a line for the men's restroom and be able to waltz right into the ladies' room without hindrance. We finally entered the Hall and were blown away by the shear mass of memorabilia, photos, trophies, jerseys, helmets, playbooks, and autographed items. Interactive touch screens, Programmed speeches that played as you passed by, and attire that adorned coaching legends of decades past. As we approached the rotunda that houses the busts, the lights grew dim. We were entering hallowed ground. The inaugural class was elected in 1963. Then 47 marble panels wrap around the room, each housing four to seven busts, representing each election year. The months long process of making each of the true-to-size busts is full of pictures, in person meetings, measurements, and molds. To see all of these football legends, many of whom have left this earth, enshrined in bronze forever, was quite moving. Sammy Baugh, Bob Lilly, Vince Lombardi, Don Shula, Dan Marino, Joe Montana, Roger Staubach, Tom Landry, Johnny Unitas, John Elway, Steve Young, Barry Sanders, John Madden, Bob Hayes, Joe Gibbs, Mike Singletary, and all the greats. And for Sissy and I, the hallowed three, Aikman, Irvin, and finally now, Smith, together again at last. These were the men that I grew up hearing about from my father. These men shaped the game of professional football forever. As we wrapped through all the rooms, taking in all of the sights, we grew more excited about the ceremony slated for that evening. We perused the gift shop, stocking up on even more paraphernalia, and listening to all the other fans clammer on about their team, and their love story with football.
As we exited the Hall, we entered tent upon tent of even more souvenirs, and scanned the crowd for a glimpse of one of these football legends. As we were about to head out for lunch, we finally spotted a legend, not of the football variety, but of the sports world, no less. Chris Berman, anchor of Sports Center, and the recipient of this year's Rozell award and emcee of the Enshrinement arrived. I sprinted over to nab his autograph as he entered the Hall. I entered a mob of men wanting to shake his hand. I'm pretty sure most women would think that I was crazy, trying to meet a middle-aged man with a comb over, but this is the man that reports ALL of the ongoings in the sports world. He knows anyone who is anyone, and his voice has soothed me to sleep on many the occasion. It's on par with meeting Joel McHale of The Soup if reality TV is your drug of choice.
After the adrenaline rush of my brush with fame wore off, we headed off to grab some lunch, freshen up, and prep for the Enshrinement ceremony. We put on our jerseys, necklaces, grabbed our expertly crafted Emmitt/ESPN themed poster, and headed to the stadium. We arrived and found our seats. Must to our utter shock and dismay, there was zero beer available in the stadium. Apparently it doubles as a high school stadium in the fall, and they banned the sale long ago. Haling from Texas, we can't really imagine NFL football without a frosty brew. We settled for a couple of Diet Cokes nestled in our Cowboys' themed beverage holders, and started the look out for the celebs of the sporting world. I prepared the camera and nearly fainted when I saw my ULTIMATE sighting, Troy Aikman. I made my way over to the railing and round myself a mere 15 to 20 feet from my childhood sports hero, and favorite Dallas Cowboy of all time. I became the paparazzi, shooting pics of him, Michael Irvin, John Madden, and the massive crowd gathering outside the commentary booth. I ventured back to our seat, and proceeded to strike up a conversation with the fans around me. I was quite surprised to find that every Cowboys fan I met was from anywhere but Texas. We even met several Canadian fans. Apparently they really are America's Team.
The Enshrinement ceremony began and we were instantly immersed. John Randle, Dick LeBeau, Floyd Little, Ricky Jackson, Russ Grimm, Jerry Rice, and Emmitt Smith. For four hours, we listened to inspiring stories of why these legends played the game, and how they dared to dream. When Emmitt took the stage, my heart swelled with pride. I was so happy to see an athlete carry so much poise and humility. This accolade was well deserved. His tribute to Troy, Michael, and Moose moved me to tears. His dedication to his family, his faith, and his sport, was admirable and inspiring.
Walking out of the stadium, I felt shaken to my core. I felt like I could move mountains. I think that the trip with my sister, not only forever strengthened our bond, but it made me realize that God has granted me with talents that I absolutely do not deserve. He has also blessed me with a passion for life that most people long for every day. I embrace the good with the bad. I take each moment as a lesson to prepare me for things to come, and as a catalyst for my writing, and for sharing with others.
It's taken me quite a while to finish this piece, as my life has been quite hectic. In the time since I went on this trip, my first fashion pieces were published, I've met celebrities, watched my beloved baseball team, the Texas Rangers clinch the pennant, bonded with my father, gotten involved in the arts as a volunteer, and found much needed peace. I have not dedicated the kind of time that I would have liked to my blog, but I've made a new promise to myself that I will make more time to write for myself. It's the most therapeutic activity in my life, and I enjoy sharing my experiences with the few people who take the time to read about my crazy life.
For those of you that do read this lengthy post, and all of my writing, thank you. It's because of your encouragement that I continue to pursue my dreams.
Cheers,
I surprised Sissy with a trip to Canton, Ohio to the NFL Hall of Fame Enshrinement to see Emmitt Smith, her favorite player of all time, be inducted into the Hall. The icing on the cake was that the Cowboys happened to be selected to play in the Hall of Fame game. So, off we flew to Columbus, Ohio, to spend some time with out aunt & uncle, and then rented a car and drove 2 hours northeast to Canton.
The weekend began with a delicious meal at the Surly Girl Saloon. This was at the recommendation of a co-worker who hales from Columbus, and the great Ohio State University. The rec was spot on. The food was great, the beer and drink selections amazing, and the cupcakes, oh my lord. Best. Cupcake. Ever. I'm a Southern woman. To say that a yankee produced the best red velvet cupcake of my life is a bit of a slap in the face of both of my grandmothers, may they rest in peace. Needless to say, it's true. If you are from Columbus, please run and have one of these cupcakes.
After the meal, we headed up to campus to check out OSU. My aunt has been a professor there for over 30 years. She's a die-hard Buckeye, and made us swear we'd check out the Horseshoe. As a love of all things college football, I couldn't wait to see the legendary place. Many National Championship hopes have been dashed on this field, and it was a bit surreal to see all 105,000 seats empty. I could imagine the roar of the crowd in three weeks when OSU kicks off my favorite time of the year.
After seeing the campus, we headed over to Shore North to check out all the trendy boutiques, and have some ice cream at Jeni's, which has been featured on the Food Network. Par for the course, best ice cream of all time. The Salted Caramel melted in my mouth and enveloped my taste buds with salty meets sweet and cold, delicious creaminess. The Wildberry Lavender is something out of dreams. I may just have to break down and have some shipped to Texas to beat this debilitating heat.
We dropped off our aunt at her tre' fab downtown loft, and headed toward Canton. We collapsed into our bed and prepared for an eventful Saturday. We woke up and pilfered through piles of Cowboys t-shirts, hats, jerseys, and the like to select our gear for the trek. As we pulled up to the museum, we both let out squeals of joy at the large white tents full of merchandise and football legends. You might have thought we'd arrived at the world's largest outlet mall, but no, the J sisters love a good football game as much as an amazing deal on a pair of Stuart Weitzman's. We are well-rounded Southern women. Football is a religion, and one that our father baptized us into as a VERY early age. Sissy jokingly told our father that she wanted to attend Dallas Cowboys University when she was barely six years old. Dad had to explain that unfortunately, the Cowboys didn't have a school, and she would have to settle for a SEC or Southwest Conference school. We should have known that she was destined to be a Cowboys fanatic.
As we scurried out of the shoe-polished rental car, covered in phrases such as Dallas Divas, We love Emmitt, and Go Cowboys, the reality set in that we were finally here. After nine months of planning, we had made it to the football Mecca. When we approached the Hall, there were men decked out in jerseys and hats, as far as the eye could see. It was quite a welcome change to have a line for the men's restroom and be able to waltz right into the ladies' room without hindrance. We finally entered the Hall and were blown away by the shear mass of memorabilia, photos, trophies, jerseys, helmets, playbooks, and autographed items. Interactive touch screens, Programmed speeches that played as you passed by, and attire that adorned coaching legends of decades past. As we approached the rotunda that houses the busts, the lights grew dim. We were entering hallowed ground. The inaugural class was elected in 1963. Then 47 marble panels wrap around the room, each housing four to seven busts, representing each election year. The months long process of making each of the true-to-size busts is full of pictures, in person meetings, measurements, and molds. To see all of these football legends, many of whom have left this earth, enshrined in bronze forever, was quite moving. Sammy Baugh, Bob Lilly, Vince Lombardi, Don Shula, Dan Marino, Joe Montana, Roger Staubach, Tom Landry, Johnny Unitas, John Elway, Steve Young, Barry Sanders, John Madden, Bob Hayes, Joe Gibbs, Mike Singletary, and all the greats. And for Sissy and I, the hallowed three, Aikman, Irvin, and finally now, Smith, together again at last. These were the men that I grew up hearing about from my father. These men shaped the game of professional football forever. As we wrapped through all the rooms, taking in all of the sights, we grew more excited about the ceremony slated for that evening. We perused the gift shop, stocking up on even more paraphernalia, and listening to all the other fans clammer on about their team, and their love story with football.
As we exited the Hall, we entered tent upon tent of even more souvenirs, and scanned the crowd for a glimpse of one of these football legends. As we were about to head out for lunch, we finally spotted a legend, not of the football variety, but of the sports world, no less. Chris Berman, anchor of Sports Center, and the recipient of this year's Rozell award and emcee of the Enshrinement arrived. I sprinted over to nab his autograph as he entered the Hall. I entered a mob of men wanting to shake his hand. I'm pretty sure most women would think that I was crazy, trying to meet a middle-aged man with a comb over, but this is the man that reports ALL of the ongoings in the sports world. He knows anyone who is anyone, and his voice has soothed me to sleep on many the occasion. It's on par with meeting Joel McHale of The Soup if reality TV is your drug of choice.
After the adrenaline rush of my brush with fame wore off, we headed off to grab some lunch, freshen up, and prep for the Enshrinement ceremony. We put on our jerseys, necklaces, grabbed our expertly crafted Emmitt/ESPN themed poster, and headed to the stadium. We arrived and found our seats. Must to our utter shock and dismay, there was zero beer available in the stadium. Apparently it doubles as a high school stadium in the fall, and they banned the sale long ago. Haling from Texas, we can't really imagine NFL football without a frosty brew. We settled for a couple of Diet Cokes nestled in our Cowboys' themed beverage holders, and started the look out for the celebs of the sporting world. I prepared the camera and nearly fainted when I saw my ULTIMATE sighting, Troy Aikman. I made my way over to the railing and round myself a mere 15 to 20 feet from my childhood sports hero, and favorite Dallas Cowboy of all time. I became the paparazzi, shooting pics of him, Michael Irvin, John Madden, and the massive crowd gathering outside the commentary booth. I ventured back to our seat, and proceeded to strike up a conversation with the fans around me. I was quite surprised to find that every Cowboys fan I met was from anywhere but Texas. We even met several Canadian fans. Apparently they really are America's Team.
The Enshrinement ceremony began and we were instantly immersed. John Randle, Dick LeBeau, Floyd Little, Ricky Jackson, Russ Grimm, Jerry Rice, and Emmitt Smith. For four hours, we listened to inspiring stories of why these legends played the game, and how they dared to dream. When Emmitt took the stage, my heart swelled with pride. I was so happy to see an athlete carry so much poise and humility. This accolade was well deserved. His tribute to Troy, Michael, and Moose moved me to tears. His dedication to his family, his faith, and his sport, was admirable and inspiring.
Walking out of the stadium, I felt shaken to my core. I felt like I could move mountains. I think that the trip with my sister, not only forever strengthened our bond, but it made me realize that God has granted me with talents that I absolutely do not deserve. He has also blessed me with a passion for life that most people long for every day. I embrace the good with the bad. I take each moment as a lesson to prepare me for things to come, and as a catalyst for my writing, and for sharing with others.
It's taken me quite a while to finish this piece, as my life has been quite hectic. In the time since I went on this trip, my first fashion pieces were published, I've met celebrities, watched my beloved baseball team, the Texas Rangers clinch the pennant, bonded with my father, gotten involved in the arts as a volunteer, and found much needed peace. I have not dedicated the kind of time that I would have liked to my blog, but I've made a new promise to myself that I will make more time to write for myself. It's the most therapeutic activity in my life, and I enjoy sharing my experiences with the few people who take the time to read about my crazy life.
For those of you that do read this lengthy post, and all of my writing, thank you. It's because of your encouragement that I continue to pursue my dreams.
Cheers,
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