Archive | June, 2013

a letter.

16 Jun

Faj,

Let me first confess that I’ve typed and re-typed this letter more times than I’d like to admit. There’s just so much to sum up (23 years worth!), that I’m sort of at a loss for words.

Perfection isn’t going to get me anywhere, so here goes nothing!

>>>>>

I can only begin to imagine the first time you saw mom’s ultrasound.

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You probably remember that tiny flutter of a heartbeat, my little heartbeat! From that profound moment forward, the nature of your unconditional love has been incredibly humbling.

Less than a year later, when I finally entered the world via c-section, you intentionally carved a place inside your heart for me—just for me.

And you probably made a solemn promise to yourself: to protect me and support me and love me, as much as humanly possible.

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More often than not, I’ve tested that promise you made to yourself 23 years ago. I know I’ve made you proud, but naturally, I’ve also failed you too.

For every grumpy, moody, self-involved, guilt-induced thing I’ve said or done (and will say and will do), I’m sorry.

I can be a rollercoaster of vulnerability and doubt and stubbornness, but you’ve always, always been there for me. Thank you.

You’ve encouraged me to be smart and ambitious, taught me to be kind, to work enthusiastically towards my dreams, and to never give up. From every hug and kiss and ‘ILY,’ to some of our more complex conversations, I’m blessed for everything you’ve shared with me.

You’re my role model, and one of my best friends.

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You’ve never been one to wear your emotions on your sleeve, so I am grateful for every time you’ve offered sympathy and listened to me sob about something deeply personal—or ridiculously trivial (like that time I got a ‘c’ in econ class).

You’ve comforted me in my heartbreak(s), especially when the light at the end of the tunnel was very dim. You have given me the tools to move forward, even when I’m really hurting.

You’ve showed me that to be strong and fearless in this journey of life is worth every obstacle and struggle. My ability to grow as a person is related to how much insecurity I can handle.

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I know that you worry about me (all the time), and I’d be shocked if you didn’t answer your phone with, “Hey, Eeds…everything alright?” “Haha yeah, dad. I’m just calling to say hi.”

I guess the first instinct of any father is to be overprotective of his daughter. But you’ve never discouraged me from going after what I want.

So in that sense, thank you for always worrying—but giving me my hard-earned independence—I hope I haven’t caused you too much grey hair.

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I won’t ever forget in August of 2008, when you and I rented beach cruisers on the Wharf and proceeded to bike across the Golden Gate Bridge.

We were surrounded by classic San Francisco fog and whizzing cyclists, and it wasn’t exactly the peaceful, summer-y bike ride we imagined. That was when you told me that Mark Twain once said, “The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco.”

During our ride, we stopped for ice cream and shared a late-lunch in the seaside town of Tiburon, then hopped on the ferry back across the Bay (I mean, God-forbid we bike all the way back). With wind-burned cheeks, fresh salt in our hair, and a new layer of freckles across our noses, I remember feeling overwhelmed with emotion that day.

That bike ride represented our last father-daughter bonding adventure. I was about to embark on the next chapter of my life in Colorado.

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I realized that even though I was leaving everything I knew as ‘home’ for the previous 18 years, nothing could ever come between us. Because when you love someone that deeply, they become your home, no matter where you are in the world.

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Sure, the older I get, the more I look in the mirror and see mom staring back at me. She gets the credit for my 5-foot stature, unruly blonde hair, competitiveness, and optimism.

But I am so much of who you are, too.

Everything from my love for books and writing, to sitting around a campfire squinting my eyes to catch a shooting start or a satellite, bbqing in the backyard in the middle of summer, cruising in the Jeep with the top down, and capturing that dreamlike MKB sunset on my camera—that’s all you.

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I cannot wait for the day you walk me down the aisle, for the day I show you my ultrasound, and for the day you get to hold the piece of my heart that I carve out for my little girl or boy. Just like you held me, please hold my baby facing the world—because beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

I know you will shower him or her with just as much unconditional love as you have with me.

Happy Father’s Day,

ILY.

P.S. Mom, thank you. Thank you for that one night in Tucson when you sat and enjoyed a beer with dad.

Who knew he would end up being the love of your life.

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You both won the lotto.

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And I think Alex, William, and I can equally say the same.

(signed, the post-grad.)

’tis the season for (comical) break ups.

5 Jun

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if you’re into sex, drugs, and rock ‘n roll, read on.

otherwise—you have been warned—this post isn’t PG-rated.

it’s hump day, after all!

to begin? well, where it allllll begins.

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it’s either:

“we need to talk.” oh, about your day, baby?! mine was great too!

OR

“this just….isn’t working.” i know, i know. more sex, less arguing? i can totally do that.

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OR

“i’m studying abroad next semester.” …..so? i’ll like, skype you or something. no clothes required.

OR

“i just made out with your sorority sister.” babe, it’s fine. forgive and forget iiiiis my motto!

……..

ARE YOU F***ING KIDDING ME?

if you are guilty of ANY of the above break up banter, i’m probably judging you right now.

i will, however, give you a high-five for conversing face-to-face. whatta concept!

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on the contrary. IF you were notified via snapchat

…my god, that’s low. but so efficient?

READY, SET, GO SELFIE!

6 seconds of break-up time GLORY and then POOF!

it disappears into the vortex of every other pointless snapchat.

…f o r e v e r.

ummm, FYI. your ex probably sent it to like, a lot of friends.

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regardless, i SWEAR! break ups are trending faster than juice cleanses, crossfit, and the paleo diet. can vegans and cavemen love each other? I DUNNO.

anyway. after you start hyperventilating, your thoughts resemble a self-conscious, irrational teenage girl requesting tampons, chocolate, and a shopping spree:

….seriously? OF ALL TIMES. you’re breaking up with me right now?

FIRST: you selfish idiot,

allow me to make sure i have enough PTO days left this year (which, shocker! i don’t.)

BECAUSE THE THOUGHT OF PUTTING ON A NON-SLUTTY SKIRT AND A J CREW SWEATER AND FLATS THAT GIVE ME BLISTERS IS LIKE ASKING ME TO PUT ON A BATHING SUIT AFTER I’VE GONE HAM AT A $4.99 ALL-YOU-CAN-EAT BUFFET.

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also.

i am extremely sensitive. and emotionally fragile.

i WILL send bitchy e-mails without emoticons. watch me!

SECOND: i’m going to have a bon voyage party,

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invite your closest friends,

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and ask them to tweet and instagram until your newsfeed is cluttered with:

#bestbreakuppartyever

#pinata!

#whoamigoingtomakeoutwithtonight

#drunk

#imnaked

 THIRD: organize my funeral.

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but really.

now what?

1. save a horse, ride a few cowboys?

2. survive solely on bethenny frankel’s skinny girl cosmos and ben & jerry’s half baked?

and bagel bites?

3. channel your inner-taylor swift and write passive aggressive hate music?

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OR!

even more effective, shout (with 2-day-old mascara running down your face) taylor’s thought-provoking, mature wisdom:

WEEEEE ARE NEVER, EVERRR, EVERRRR, GETTING BACK TO TOGETHER.

you sound really good! and you look really good! no, really.

>>>>>

now.

on a more serious note,

i get it.

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you feel totally betrayed and abandoned and you hate everyone.

and you probably wish you could move on so effortlessly.

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because suffering is one of the most painful experiences in life (besides realizing you’re out of bagel bites).

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you’re adamant about defining yourself a ‘failure’ because the relationship failed.

but let’s honest, there were probably signs that pointed towards incompatibility. things that simply couldn’t be mended.

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preach it, lil wayne.

BUT.

take ownership of that failure.

allow yourself to be humble. ask for a little support.

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when your heart is finally pieced together, you’ll knock it out of the ballpark when it comes to your next relationship(s).

you will find your identity again. your ex didn’t steal it from you, you just became so god damn dependent.

you’ve forgotten who you are.

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i promise, that in this grieving process,

you’ll find bliss inside the mess.

break ups are not for the weak. it takes courage and WILL POWER to face your emotions head on.

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i just ask one thing.

don’t settle.

and keep an open mind.

this is YOUR chance to get it right. go out. have fun. meet all types of people.

because:

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(signed, the post-grad.)