End of the World?

Probably not.

I didn't grow up in a family of doomsday alarmists. My parents didn't stockpile for Y2K, we didn't have an end of the world emergency plan, we didn't even have an emergency pack that apparently every home should have.

That rapture that should have happened 21 May 2011...not worried. Zombie apocalypse? I got that covered. Throw on some Thriller and that gives you at least 5 minutes to get away, because Zombies gotta dance.

So, now that we're on the eve of 21 December 2012...I'm still not worried. This one is different though, like a milestone almost. I've been hearing about 12/21/12 most of my life. I remember being in about 3rd or 4th grade and sitting with my friends as we calculated how old we would be in 2012. 26. Which at the time sounded very adult and very old. We talked about how we would be married and have a few kids and the world was supposed to end, and then 26 didn't seem like enough time.

Here I am, 26 and about 12 hours from the end of the world (as we know it, and I feel fine). I don't have kids, I'm not married and I like my life. So, end of the world, come at me bro!

Tomorrow The Boyfriend and I are going to celebrate our Christmas Eve, we're going to get dressed up, go out for drinks and have a great time. On Saturday we're going to celebrate Christmas. Wake up, open presents, eat cinnamon rolls and watch bad 80s horror movies all day. Sunday I'm going back home to Minnesota to see family and have Christmas there. So, end of the world, you're just gonna have to wait because I wanna open presents!

Also, last weekend The Boyfriend and I got a kitten. Her name is Felix (because The Boyfriend and I had our first date at a bar named St. Felix AND Felix Felicis (Liquid Luck from Harry Potter)). She's pretty damn cute and I fully intend on spending a lot more time with her.

So, happy End of the World to you all. Live it up and wake up Saturday morning to a brand new day.

Happy Holidays to you all and welcome to the all the days after 12/21/12. May you have nothing but joy and happiness and love.

Also, everybody watch this. It sums it up pretty well.

Happy End of the World/Apocalypse to you all!!!!

The Results Are In...

Actually they were in a week ago today...but there's been some adjusting and sleeping and working and lifeing that I've been doing instead.

So, Dr. Gregory House MD

Is wrong.

Apparently I have Lupus. Lupus has about a billion different symptoms and degrees of how bad it is, so it's hard to figure out. The only way mine was found was because my platelets (the parts of your blood that help your blood clot) were low enough that doctors needed to figure out why.

The Lupus I have is super mild. It seems to be only affecting my blood mostly. Though, the past 5 days or so, I think I've been in the midst of a flare. A Lupus flare is a period of time when the symptoms get worse, it will go away eventually. My flare seems to be that my muscles, all of them, are sore like I've been lifting weights. It's mostly my back (think a straight line up my spine) and my arms are sore. And I'm tired; but I've been tired for months, so that's hardly noticeable. There's a few other random things, like a lot of canker sores on my tongue and some joint pain.

It's a weird sort of situation where everything has changed, but nothing really has. I started a medication to help calm the Lupus and keep it calm, so other than that, nothing is different. I do have to keep going back to the immune system doctor, but I like her, so that isn't even that terrible. Yeah, it's a little scary, because Lupus can be really bad and damage the kidneys and liver and heart...but all of those organs look just fine for me. Mostly it's just something to keep track of.

Since they've already had one guy with Lupus on House...I guess I'll never be able to be in an episode. Drat.

Moving on...

IT'S DECEMBER!!! I'm so excited for Christmas, it's The Boyfriend's and my first Christmas together. I already have his presents ready...and I'm pretty sure he has mine. And we both know what they are...for the most part. I'm also going back to Minnesota/home for actual Christmas, hopefully there will be snow this year.

Happy Holidays to you all! May you find joy in the lights and the surprises and spending time with your loved ones.

Cliches are Okay! (sometimes)

I know that this time of year, everyone is stating what they are thankful for, and the day after Thanksgiving, it makes sense. Sometimes, though, cliches are completely welcome.

What I'm thankful for.

I'm thankful for all of you who offered kind words and loving support from my last post. On Tuesday, I go to the doctors to see what results have turned up, hopefully there will be some answers and even more hopefully, there will be some easy solutions. Sometimes I forget that admitting your weaknesses is the best way to strengthen friendships. So, thank you all for your love and support.

I'm thankful for The Boyfriend. I know, now this post is cheesy AND cliched. Bear with me, it's going to get a lot cheesier for a little bit. He has been nothing short of amazing through all of my crazy. I believe I have cried at least weekly onto one of shirts. He knows when I'm lying about being okay. He knows how to make me smile again. He knows when I'm freaking out. He loves me despite all of the things I think make me unloveable. We've been together almost 10 months and it's been amazing. I love him like I've never loved anyone else. It's simple.

Okay...the terrible cheesiness is over, back to cliches.

I'm thankful for all of my amazing friends. The ones who give me (and The Boyfriend) places to go for the holidays and invite me into their families (and feed us delicious food, thank you again!). The ones who go on lunch dates with me and get how my brain works. The ones I get to see every day at work. The ones who live far away and I only get to see every once in a while. I've figured out that the friends I have are going to definitely stick around for a while, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

I'm thankful for the apartment The Boyfriend and I have, a place that always feels warm and safe and comfortable. That's also where Fievel is, so there's that.

I'm thankful for my family (the people I'm related to, and the people that have become family by history and friendship), even though I don't see them much. They keep me grounded to my home and where I came from. They are one of the things I'm excited about when I go home.

I'm thankful for my parents. I can say they did a darn good job of raising me. They are the foundation of everything I am and everything I do. They have supported all of my dreams and never told me I wasn't able to do something that I set my mind to. Because of them I'm strong, kind, and creative. I'm glad my parents and I were grouped up in whatever cosmic family building system there is.

I'm thankful I have my fingernails painted like turkeys.

I hope you are all able to list the things you are thankful for and see the wonderful things in your life.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Let me esplain...there is too much, let me sum up.

I know, I know, I KNOW!

It's been AGES according to the internet world since I've posted last. The reasons are many and some of them are even legit.

The first reason is that I would like to keep from turning this blog into a "my life is constantly in crisis" place. I would like to post more entertaining, quirky, and funny content rather than serious and sad content. But often, life doesn't always work like that. I've been trying for weeks to think of something funny and amusing to tell you all, but there's just be so much happening, that all I could think of was that. So I'm going to tell you that.

The first is that I am crazy. I know that I've alluded to "crazy" or "my crazy" or "appointments" in the past. I'll do a longer post about all that later, after more fun, awesome stuff, but right now I'll just give you the basics.

In March I was diagnosed with social anxiety, generalized anxiety disorder, panic disorder, and OCD. In a nutshell (pun intended) It's like the panic button that everyone has in their heads gets jammed in my head...so everything feels like a world-ending crisis. In the past few months I have worried about: The Boyfriend hating/leaving/falling out of love with me, what I would do if I received a call that one of my parents had died, being kidnapped, people breaking into the house, the oven stetting the apartment on fire, people throwing my bread away from the work fridge, and a bunch of other things I've completely forgotten about. For a while I was having daily panic attacks (hyperventilating, crying, pain in the center of my chest, shaking, stomach aches). About a month an a half ago, I changed to a different medication and it has made a world of difference. Don't get me wrong, I'm still crazy, but I'm not crying daily and the thoughts that are crazy are easier to identify and talk down. (A lot of that is also from the therapist I see every Saturday)

I know that some of you do have some sort of mental illness, and you do know how debilitating it is, how hard it is just to get through a completely normal day sometimes. And those of you that don't, you are lucky and I hope that you know that people who do are not faking, weak, or trying to get out of doing anything. We would love nothing more than to be like "everyone else", but we just have to fight a little harder for it.

Other things that have happened in the past month that have made it hard for me to sit down and blog was Halloween. I desperately wanted to make some sort of awesome Halloween post, because I LOVE that holiday. The Boyfriend and I were a bat man and a robin (Batman and Robin with a delicious punny twist), I made ghost cupcakes, and actually enjoyed the Halloween party I went to. (I HATE parties, see above paragraph on anxiety)But Halloween stresses me out and makes me exhausted, because the crazy wants everything to be perfect, so I spend 4 hours making cupcakes. By the time Halloween is over, I'm ready to be done.

So, then my intentions were to write a post about Halloween and my traditions of always loving it, but life stepped in with crises. My dad's brother is currently doing radiation treatment for prostate cancer. My mom's sister has lung cancer and they are still figuring out how to best help her, but can't really do anything until she gets a bypass surgery on her heart. One of my very good friends (if you know anything, it's that I have a handful or two of very close friends that I would do anything for. Other than that, I don't like talking to people and think small talk and surface friendships are annoying and a waste of time for everyone) has had so much more in her life than anyone should have to deal with. Essentially everything that was for her was turned upside-down, shaken, and set back down.

In a past post I talked about being an introvert, and part of that is feeling deeply and not knowing how to express those emotions. So I desperately have wanted to help her and make everything better, I have emphasized with her pain and sadness, and have loved her without second thought. I love her and I would do it all again in a heartbeat. I grew up sort of ignoring and dealing with emotions quietly and on your own. It wasn't terrible, but now I just don't know what to do with the way I feel. (add to that the medication I was on for my anxiety wasn't right, so my doctor and I agreed that a change was in order)

Then, because that wasn't enough, a routine blood test of mine revealed that my platelet count was low. Platelets help your blood clot. They should be around 150-450 for most people. Mine were 115. A second blood test was ordered and those results came back as 88...it had dropped in a span of 3 weeks. It's not at dangerously low levels, but low enough that the doctors would like to know what's going on.

This week, on tuesday I went to a rheumatologist (immune system doctor) and she took 8 vials of blood to see why my antibodies (part of the immune system) were high and apparently attacking my platelets. On friday I went to a hematologist (blood doctor) to look at my cells and my liver/spleen function. They took 7 vials of blood. That has been stressful for me; just not knowing. It could be something small (not enough of a vitamin or two) or something serious (something wrong with my bone marrow, where blood cells are made (cancer)). Right now it's looking more like my immune system is attacking my platelets, which could mean an auto-immune disease; fibromyalgia, celiac, lupus.

P.S. Every time one of the doctors has mentioned Lupus, in my head I hear this and have to resist smiling like a werido as they tell me serious information. If it is anything, I sort of hope it is lupus, so I can rub it in Dr. House's face.

Anyway, I go back on the 27th to get the results and see what happens from there. No doctor was particularly concerned because I fell fine and none of this would have even been known if not for a routine blood test. If it was something super serious, I would feel sick. Low blood counts without symptoms can often be a pre symptom of something, so just things to keep an eye on.

So, that's what has been going on lately. I'm sorry this is a long and depressing post. I'll try to get something more lighthearted up next week. I just wanted you all to know why there was a leave of absence for over a month. (geez) I hadn't forgotten about you, I thought about writing a million times, but most days once I get home from work I don't want anything else required from me.

I love all of you who read, thank you, and I'll try to get back to my weekly posts.

I'll keep you updated on what's going on with my blood and everything else.

Happy Thanksgiving next week! Maybe I'll write something ridiculous about pilgrims or something.

Thanks for reading. I'll leave you with a picture of me and Captain America.

Bargaining And Distractions By Kittens

Confession: It took me five tries to spell "bargaining" correctly...that red underline is the bane of my existence. For serious. I never picked up spelling like I should have and I know that EVERYONE says they're a bad speller, but I really am. I really really am. In tenth grade we had to write a one side essay on immigration during class. I had no trouble with this, but as the teacher was reading over it she paused and looked up at me.

"Elayna." She said. "Do you realize you spelled "immigrant" six different ways in these three paragraphs?"

To which I replied. "Is one of them correct?"

"Yes..."

The fact that I got it correct once was good enough for me, the fact that I couldn't even spell it wrong the same way twice was concerning to my teacher. So it goes.

Transition!

Oddly enough, I did not come here today to talk to you about my spelling ability, or lack there of. I came to first, apologize for not posting last week. It was wrong of me and I'm sorry.

Life got busy last week in a mix of good and bad things. Also, I've been working later at work because we're in crunch time and I can't work Saturdays due to prior engagements.

The good things included a baby being born to my best friend back home and a friend of a friend getting engaged. Bad included things like health issues of family members and general panic attacks and anxiety. Yay.

Anywho...

Man, that brings me back to second grade...

Onto things that make me happy. This week has been a little difficult, but I finally got myself to post for you. (and by you I mean the 50 times I check my own blog and the one person who might read it.) Anyway, happiness. That comes in the form of kittens.

I don't know if you have discovered the wonderfulness that is the live stream of kittens. They sleep a lot, but the adorable is off the charts. So, beware, because your productivity may or may not decrease. I am not responsible for any loss of productivity. Use kittens at your own risk.

And to wrap up, I have a proposition for you. I'm going to start something called Fiction Fridays. It won't be every Friday, but some Fridays you could get a bonus post of a short story that I will write just for you.

Exciting! Or something. AND, you get to help!

Your question is What are some useless super powers? Things like the power of static cling or the power of turing plaid instead of invisible. I mean, when extra abilities become common place in our society, if X-Men has taught me anything, is that there must be some abilities that are completely useless. Not everyone can be as awesome as Kitty Pryde (can pass through walls and whatnot) or Wolverine (retractable adamantium claws and super quick healing abilities).

Please leave your useless super abilities in the comments below, because I can't think of any others besides static cling and the ability of plaid. So, if you could please help me out, that would be awesome.

I mean, to defeat this superhero all you have to do is poke him anywhere on his head and he'll be in pain. I've definitely poked myself in the eye putting in my contacts or gesturing with my hands while speaking...and it's hurt quite a bit. So, maybe The Giant Eye is a poor super ability to have. And also, that whole issue of not having depth perception...right

To recap, put your super abilities in the comments below. Thanks and I will post next week...if all goes according to plan. (evil laughter)

Happy Every Day!

Listen, I know this is a strange title for a Monday blog post. Most people would not group Monday in their favorite days of the week, I'm usually in that boat. But sometimes, you see something or read something or hear something that just sort of sticks with you and makes you smile when you think about it again.

For me, today, it was an email from someone who doesn't speak english as their first language. Some of the most beautiful phrases I've ever heard in English, were spoken by people who had to learn english after learning a completely different language.

I ordered a Snitch pocket watch locket pendant from her etsy shop (which, by the way, contains all of the most wonderful and beautiful things pertaining to Harry Potter, Hunger Games, Doctor Who, and other things nerdy and fantastic), I highly recommend that you check her out.

She sent this email to me, letting me know my order had shipped.

"Hi, my friend,

The item has been sent with care from CHINA on Sep 15, 2012.

Shipping via china post air mail( always take 15-30 days.)

And, if meet some nature phenomenon, such as Heavy snow, floods, earthquakes,

the shipping time will be more longer than normal.

I sincerely hope it arrived on time.

I hope you like It when you see It.

If you have any questions, please feel free email me!

Happy every day!

MY BEST!

sevinoma"

That was one of the first things I read this Monday morning, how can that not make you smile? I want to start ending all my letters with a "Happy every day! MY BEST!"

The next are from a woman who works on the same floor as me. I think she's Armenian, but her accent sounds a little Russian sometimes. Every time I see her, she is nothing but smiles, like she hasn't seen you in years and you are one of her very favorite people. I have never seen her without a smile and a happy spark in her eyes.

We both got into the elevator one evening after work. She turned to me, trademark smile firmly in place and happily exclaimed, "Thank Gods it is Friday!" How can you not smile right along with her and agree?

Another time, we happened to meet in the restroom. I was washing my hands and she turned to me. "You look beautiful today. You look like a Barbie."

Now, I would never describe my appearance as "like a Barbie", the Matel model and I have very little in common, but coming from that woman, it was nothing but the best compliment in the world.

So yes, today, I do like Monday. If your day was less than happy, then hopefully this little bit from my weekend will help.

The Boyfriend and I had gone to get his car detailed. While we were waiting, I saw a dog, who kid you not, looked like the dog from The Grinch Who Stole Christmas. Here is that dog.

That totally made my day yesterday, just like that email made mine today. I hope your day was just a little bit better.

Happy every day! MY BEST!

A Quiet Riot

So, last week the Meyers Briggs test circulated among my facebook friends to see which type of people we are. I think the results are correct to a point, but it's also nearly impossible to put anyone into categories. It is possible to group similar people, so here are my results.

INTJ

Introvert(100%) iNtuitive(25%) iNtuitive Thinking(1%) Judging(33%)

You have strong preference of Introversion over Extraversion (100%)

You have moderate preference of Intuition over Sensing (25%)

You have marginal or no preference of Thinking over Feeling (1%)

You have moderate preference of Judging over Perceiving (33%)

So, I guess there's no denying my introverted qualties...I mathematically cannot be more of an introvert.

I've also started reading Quiet: The Power Of Introverts In A World That Can't Stop Talking which is an amazing book. It discusses the awesomeness of introverts in history and the amazing qualities that are so valuable to society. It's sort of great to be told in a book that it's okay to be who I always was...a person drawn to libraries and stories and blanket forts solitude.

But, just because I will take a book over a party any day, does not mean I'm boring. I have a spark for mischief that cannot be contained. I'm no prankster and I never was the class clown, but I always have a witty comeback and there might be a trick or two up my sleeves.

My style is something I've lovingly called "the quiet riot". I find joy in subtle jokes, small things that when noticed make one's day just a little better.

I prefer things like, putting googly eyes on the plants at work.

It's possible that sometimes, a squeaker will find it's way into The Boyfriend's bag that he takes to work. That plan worked out even better, because I thought he would discover it before we left in the morning. He found it when he got to work. Bonus points. I mean, I have no idea how the squeaker got in there.

Sometimes, the anonymous things I do may or may not have a slight passive aggressive tone to them.

Like today, I might (though there is no proof) have posted this blog in both of the stalls in the bathroom at work. Maybe, but you can't prove a thing.

If nobody else finds any of this amusing, I at least do. My own little fight against the boring normal...without drawing too much attention to myself, because that gives me even more anxiety than I currently have.

You don't have to be the life of the party to have fun. If you want to read a book rather than go out clubbing, then do it. Whatever makes you happy. Just make sure that you take a little time to add a little spice to the day...and maybe someone else's, too.

Let's crank this quiet riot up!

Darling, You Need Help.

So, lately I've been partaking in once a week binges of the show "Say Yes To The Dress". I promise, I'm going to get help soon...or something. Anyway, there's one thing (well, one MAIN thing) that bothers me.

Why do these women need the approval of their mothers, aunts, grandmothers, fathers, sisters, cousins, best friends, bride's maids, and fiances for their wedding dress? Last time I checked, there was only one person going to be wearing that dress.

If this puts me in the feminist, over-opinionated, too independent women camp, then set my tent up. Don't get me wrong, I love the two hosts/dress-picker-outers, I think they're hilarious, but I just don't get it. Do these women ask ten people if their outfit is all right every day before going to work?

"Darling, best friend, mother, boyfriend is this sweater and jeans all right to go to the grocery store?"

Now, I DO understand that a wedding day is a bit more important than going to the store, but come on brides. You are wearing the dress, therefore you should be the one to love it and everyone else can go pick out their own dress. Yes, I also understand that it's important to value the opinion of loved ones, and it's fine to ask for opinions if you are wavering between a couple, but if you love a dress and (insert person here) says "...no.". Screw them. Calmly accept their opinion and stand by yours.

For example, in this episode, this woman gave her fiance and friends COMPLETE control in picking out her dress, as in she would not make any decisions. Get an opinion, woman! Finally after several failed dresses, this woman is finally taking charge of picking HER dress for HER wedding.

A few exceptions. If these are your dresses, then darling, we need to have a talk.

Maybe I'm just missing the point. Maybe I'm not "girly" enough to understand this whole thing. Either way, I'm picking my own darn dress and everyone else can find their own.

Let Me Explain...

Blog: Where HAVE you been?

Me: ...pardon?

B: You heard me. Where. Have. You. Been? Last week. When you should have posted a blog. You remember last week, don't you?

M: Well yeah, things got busy, and friends were in town, and time-

B: Did you or did you not set out to upload at least one post a week?

M: Yeah, but...

B: And did you or did you not post last week?

M: Well, no, but I wanted to. It's just that Monday was groceries and cleaning; Tuesday was a migraine so I just went to bed after work; Wednesday and Thursday friends were in town with their 3.5 year old and 1.5 year old; Friday was falling asleep after work because I'm cool and party like that; Saturday was my crazy appointment which leaves me pretty much comatose afterwards; Sunday was another migraine because my brain loves me; and Monday was a barbecue at my friend's house... I'm sorry?"

B:...

M: What, now you're not talking to me?

M: I'm here now, aren't I? I'm sorry, but sometimes life gets in the way. It doesn't mean that I love you any less, it just means that I'm burning the candle entirely, forget that whole both ends thing. That sucker is engulfed in flames. I made a promise, (not in writing mind you, because then it's like a binding soul owning contract) to try my best to post at least weekly. Please, blog? I miss you, really. Come back?

M: Truce?

B: Are you bribing me?

M: Only if it works.

B: Fine. I forgive you. Now, I'll be over here with this ice cream. You wrap this up.

Wait for it...wait for it... Blog is gone. Now this page is under my complete control. (insert evil laugh of your choice) The power! Is mine! ...wait, wrist cuffs? Obligation? Expectation? Promises to self?

There's always a catch. Darn you, Blog, tricking me into this. Well, I'm never going to tell Blog that I actually enjoy this. Put that in your pipe and smoke it! (I've never actually understood that, now I need to go research where that phrase came from).

Until next week, good readers.

Blog: You do realize that you only have like one reader, that most of the views are you obsessively checking your stats?

Me: You just have to ruin everything...

Blog: The ice cream is delicious, though. Say goodnight, Elayna.

Me: Goodnight, Elayna.

Riff-raff? Street rat? I don't buy that.

A lot of good stories are about orphans. Think about it. Superman - planet destroyed, orphan. Batman - parents killed, orphan. Spiderman - parents (and uncle) killed, orphan. It's that great American heroic archetype that I learned about in 7th grade and couldn't forget to save my life. Most heroes in the most popular stories are either fatherless or orphans.

Well, here's another.

This is Fievel. (Yes, as in "An American Tail: Fievel Goes West")

Those are bathroom Dixie cups he is sitting next to.

I found him in the subway station going home from work one day in early July. He was all alone, huddled next to the wall. He was hungry, thirsty, dirty and alone. There was a lady taking pictures of him, because he was so sweet and little. So, naturally, I went over and picked him up. He didn't even try to run away.

He rode in my hand the entire subway ride home. I found an empty Starbucks water cup and put him in there so I could text the boyfriend and ask him if he would be terribly opposed to adopting an orphan in need; who was probably going to be the next great hero. Well, I didn't tell him that part.

The boyfriend is a good person, and let Fievel stay. The only condition was that I take Fievel to the vet to see if he was the disease ridden, plague monster that all mice are.

Fievel passed the vet test with flying colors. the vet was taken by Fievel's adorableness, as all who meet him are, and said he hadn't seen such a young mouse on his own. I asked how old my dear Fievel was, the answer was 3 weeks. Mice don't even get fur until around 10 days, so he was far too young to be away from his family. Orphan = good story = future hero.

The first time the boyfriend held Fievel, he said, "I was not prepared for how cute he is." A co-worker went from "Ew, you TOUCHED it?" to "He's sitting in my hand! He's so cute!" in 24 hours. Fievel, the hero of all that is cute. The only problem, was he was small enough to fit through the bars of the first mouse house the boyfriend got him. So we had to get a house without bars. He's happy now, and cannot escape. Yet.

Fievel celebrated his 2 month birthday last week and he has about doubled in size. He's the fastest thing on four legs, and if he gets away from you his favorite game is "try and get me out from behind the bookshelves". He is the only one who likes that game.

So that is the origin story of Fievel. I'm not sure, other than Hero of all that is Cute, what Fievel's legendary destiny is, but I'm very glad that the boyfriend and I are his Ma and Pa Kent. (Superman reference, if you missed that one)

Born in the dirty tunnels of the LA Subway system, lost from his family, alone, dirty and hopeless. It was looking dire until he was rescued by a kind soul and her handsome boyfriend. From the streets to the penthouse. This, is the story of Fievel: A Mouse Among Mice. Hero to the cute underdog, savior to all the cute fluffy things. Coming to a theater near you Summer 2012.

Re: My Letter

This is my dad's letter back to me. I can't think of anyone better to be my dad.

(my letter)

and now the letter from my dad.

Dear Elayna,

I tried to respond to your letter..i suck at the computer.

Tears filled my eyes as I read it, I remember the day too, it took so long to let go of the fear that you would hate me...I thought if I didn't tell you...you wouldn't think I cared about you..or to let you know and then to find out from someone else...anyway I see now that I have a beautiful compassionate daughter...I knew it before but more so now. These secrets we hide in out selves eat at us and cause us to question how "normal" we are. Leaving you was the saddest part of the divorce...who would I ride bike with? or spin in the "again" swing? Towards the end of your mom and my relationship was a lot of sadness, and through the gifts of counseling...depression and Zoloft., Moving back into the bedroom I had when I was 16, not seeing you was a very low part of my life, I ended up going to Toronto for an escape and met Ken, he's Canadian...eh? Both of us were needing something ....a change, we saved each other, when he met you and loved you as another ...dad...meant so much. You are my life...of my life.

Fear is a power that controls us and if we let it....years fly by and we don't tell the other person...or even ourselves what we need to. Elayna..you have courage...that's the absence of fear..sometimes I think we are so much alike...in hiding our feelings.thoughts and protecting our heart. I know I broke your heart when I had to leave...it broke mine too...when I see you...my eyes well up and overflow..when I run..I cry for you...for me...for the time lost...it means so much to me to have your acceptance in my life, you are brave....my spirit warrior. The world is a kinder place because you're in it.

I love you...Dad

My Letter.

So, in the past couple days this letter went viral for being sad and terrible. Then, the blogger from Ask Your Dad wrote this letter in response. It has inspired others to write their own letters.

When I was 13, my dad came out to me as gay. It has taken me all of these years to realize what an amazing and brave thing that was for him to do. Especially living in a small, rural town of 3000 people in South Eastern Minnesota.

This is mine. It's not to my future children, I'll write that letter when the time comes. This letter is to my dad.

Dear Dad.

I'm sorry that I didn't respond like you maybe hoped I would, when you told me that day. I can still remember it. I had spent the weekend with you and Ken, you drove me home, and we parked in front of my house. You turned to me, I remember it being very quiet. Then you said, "Elayna, I'm gay and I'm dating Ken."

In all honesty, it wasn't a complete shock. Mom told me, about two weeks before. I tried to brush it off like she was mad at you for something, but it wasn't her style to make you out to be the bad guy when I was around. So I kept thinking about how it might be true, but it was completely different when you told me.

I said something along the lines of "Okay. It was good seeing you. See you next weekend." And then hugged you goodbye and got out of the car. I didn't ask you any questions, I didn't even really acknowledge the gravity of what you had told me.

I now understand how hard that must have been for you to tell me. You didn't know how I would react, what I would say, if I would still want you in my life. You needn't have worried, because you raised me to be a thoughtful and kind person. It never even crossed my mind to cut all ties with you.

I'm sorry that we never really spoke about it again. I was trying so hard to figure out what it all meant. I was afraid of someone hurting you and I was afraid of someone hurting me if anyone found out. I didn't know of anyone else with a family like mine, so I just kept it a secret.

I want you to know, I never loved you any less. There were so many things I wanted to ask you and was afraid. There was brief time that I was afraid mom and I were simply props for you to hide behind. I was afraid that you never loved my mom, briefly wondered if you regretted having me.

Now I realize how brave you were in that moment and how strong you had to be. I love you more for that, and I want to be brave and strong like you. I want to be comfortable with who I am and I want to say it without hesitation. I want to always be myself and not hide into a mold that society tries to place on me. I want to be like you.

Because of you and your relationship with Ken, I have become so much better. I am kinder, wiser, more open-minded, passionate about what is right and strong enough to face whatever trials will come.

That day, thirteen years ago in that car, when you told me the most important thing about yourself, I want to answer differently. Now, I will open my arms to you, I will smile, I will tell you how proud I am of you. I will let you go with me to the mall and we can talk about which guys are attractive. I will embrace your bravery and tell you how much I love you.

Dad, I love you. Thank you for helping me grow into someone I can be proud of, but more importantly, thank you for being my dad. I am so proud of you. I will happily point you out in a crowd to my friends. I will always love you. Someday, I hope to be as brave and strong as you are.

I love you forever and ever and always.

Elayna

That is my letter. That is my story. That is my dad and he is strong and brave and the best dad in the world.

Invocation.

I have this terrible habit of starting a blog, being super interested in it for a couple weeks...and then never posting again. My internet history is littered with blogs that I have abandoned over a year ago. Poor, lost blogs, left to their own in the vast internets.

I'm going to try something different with this one. I'm not going to quit it in a month. I'm not going to abandon it. I'm going to keep writing.

So, what am I going to write about?

Everything.

Whatever thought was bouncing around in my head all day, whatever I'm feeling particularly passionate about, something amusing that happened, a memory from my childhood...and if none of that gets me to tell you a story, then I'll challenge myself by telling you a 100 word story. I'll try and be funny, I'll try and be sincere, I'll try and be honest (unless I'm writing you fiction), I'll try and be myself. I'll try not to censor myself or hold back.

Think of it as brain potpourri. Fun fact: for the longest time in my childhood, I thought it was called pot potpourri - reflexively, I wondered why nobody else called it that.

So, here we go. Not sure where this will all end up, but hopefully it won't end up with the other abandoned blogs. Poor things.