by K
Well apparently going out of my way to do nice things for people is a little more difficult than I expected it to be, making 10 for 10 (see previous post) a teeny bit frustrating. I gave a couple bucks to the guy that I always see standing with a "Single father of 2 just trying to make ends meet" sign when I drive to work, and when I found a dollar on the ground yesterday I gave it to the little sister instead of buying myself (another) bag of fritos. But who am I kidding? That's nothing. Our monthly dinner service at the local homeless shelter this Friday was going to be my big redeemer, until I realized my brother is going to be in town for literally 24 hours and I want to spend as much time with him as possible - so I may not go.
I did have a big idea to donate a ton of soup to a food pantry, because I read on a money-saving blog that you can currently get 9 cans of Healthy Choice at Jewel for FREE (and continue to do separate 9-can transactions to get all the soup you want if you're really feeling bored)... but then I dragged Dan along to 2 different Jewels last night and there wasn't a single can of the sale soup left. Obviously the more noble thing to do would just be to buy some soup to donate, but I was hoping to be a little more clever about this 10 for 10 thing, and so far it's been a major FAIL.
I've been working later than usual and am barely able to force myself out of bed in the morning... which doesn't leave much room for volunteering or anything, but I am saving a major clothing donation for this weekend, which I'm excited about. I have nearly a dozen garbage bags full of clothes in the basement that have been there forEVER as I insist that I will have a garage sale someday... but garage sale season is over, the bags are still there, and I'm thrilled that this little 10 for 10 deal has given me the final push I need to just do some good and donate it all.
Glancing back over what I've written above, I realize I may be coming across as a little whiney, which is the exact opposite of what this whole thing was all about. But fear not! It's only day 3 and I'm really just a little frustrated that I'm finding it difficult to do nice things, and I'm having a hard time grasping that sometimes life just gets in the way. I'm thankful that if nothing else, I'm more aware of my own personal desire to help, and I'll continue to try and find ways to do so regardless of the date or if an ex-bachelor hottie says to do so. I'll be back next week with a final rundown of how 10 for 10 netted out!
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Friday, October 8, 2010
10 for 10
by K
Since I was a total debbie downer on the blog yesterday, I thought it would be a good idea to come back today to kick off the long weekend (insert squeal of joy here) with something a little lighter and a whole lot more positive. Go team optimism!!
I'm also posting this without L knowing and nominating her to participate with me. Bahahaha. I figure since the idea is coming from someone we both have the utmost respect for, she'll go for it. But if not, I won't hold it against her. Well, maybe. ;)
While thousands of people are gearing up to run this Sunday's Chicago Marathon, I've yet to run more than a few blocks this decade, but I figured I still needed to do a little somethin' somethin' to commemorate 10-10-10... and then I saw this:
That's right friends, it's the one and only SUPER fine Kiptyn Locke of ABC's greatest guilty pleasure Bachelor/ette franchise!! You'd better believe I follow him (and about 30 other former "contestants") on twitter, and I am damn proud of it thankyouverymuch. Anyways - not only is he Cute with a capital C, but Kiptyn is apparently also a major do-gooder, which as you might know is TOTALLY my type. (I mean, the bf works in youth ministry - not exactly sure how I managed to snatch up such a good one, but I'm definitely glad I did!)
SO, the idea is simple - 10 things to make a positive impact in 10 days, starting on - you guessed it - 10-10-10. From what I've seen on twitter, it sounds like any little act of positivity, kindness, or grace will count, so while I plan to try and figure out at least a couple of "substantial" things to do, I also plan to make this actually doable with things like buying an extra value meal at Mickey D's for someone on the street or something (extra bonus points if I manage to not swipe the Monopoly game pieces from the fries first). I obviously don't have boatloads of cash to be throwing at charities or anything, but I'm a firm believer in the little things, and I'm confident I can pull of 10 of them over the next several days. Besides, anyone who has seen me clomping around the halls at work with a scowl on my face this week can agree, I could use a little extra positivity in my life right now!
Wish me luck as I spend a chunk of October trying to make the world a teeny tiny bit better in my own way. What do you say L? Up for it?!?
PS - for anyone who caught that bit up front about me saying I have the utmost respect for a former Bachelorette finalist, rest assured - that was NOT a typo, I just really am that pitiful. ;)
Thursday, October 7, 2010
The Big D
by K
Even though this little blog of ours has only been live a few days, I've been thinking long and hard about just how candid I'm looking to be here. Eventually, I realized that as ridiculous as it may sound, I'm looking to this blog as a bit of a life changer for myself. Somewhere to flat out get it all out. And if I hold back, then what's the point? Sometimes it's going to be funny, and sometimes it's going to be the farthest thing from it. So I suppose that's a bit of a warning to the below, which isn't a funny story about my daily outfit choices at age 14 or a story about a hilarious encounter with a fire alarm. But it's real, and I think a good indication that you really never know what to expect in life. And when you think you know, you're probably wrong.
I don’t know if it’s the decent one day crappy the next weather, the fact that I am inevitably hormonal this time of month, or plain and simple timing, but yesterday, while drying my hands on the nasty gas station-esque hand towel roll in the office bathroom – it finally hit me – My parents are getting a divorce.
This situation is nothing new – it’s been going on for a solid two years now. But, instead of giving myself a second to stop and think about how I really feel about it all, I’ve thrown myself into trying to keep my pride-and-joy 14 year old sister’s feelings and home life as positive as possible, and in general tried to make a joke of the entire situation. I mean, really, who’s parents get divorced when they’re my age? Nobody’s. Here I am in a long term relationship, hoping and praying that my own happily ever after wedding will come along in the near future… and the closest marriage to me is falling apart in front of my eyes.
As I mentioned before, I’ve done a fairly good job of shrugging the big D word off, laughing when I talk to friends about it and making it seem like I don’t have a care in the world as long as my sister is feeling ok with it all. And then this week, I’m all of a sudden thinking about my dad living in an apartment by himself somewhere, my siblings and I only seeing ONE parent at holiday get togethers, trying to keep track of how much time I’ve spent with one parent so I’m not neglecting my relationship with the other. I feel like an awkward teenager, going through some transitional period in my life where I’m sure the entire world is pointing and laughing at me. Instead, (although still awkward) I’m a 28 year old with a mortgage and a full time job, trying to keep faith in my own relationship and the happy “normal” future we dream about together.
Thankfully, I have amazing friends like L to remind me that I while I love them, I am NOT my parents. And let’s not forget our snazzy new blog where I can document all the moments where I’m not quite sure I can handle it all. Because really, that’s what this navigating adulthood thing is all about, right? Talking, yelling, running, or in my case – blogging - it all out in a desperate attempt to get it all to make some sense… and quickly realizing that it never has made sense, and never will, but in the end – it will be okay.
Even though this little blog of ours has only been live a few days, I've been thinking long and hard about just how candid I'm looking to be here. Eventually, I realized that as ridiculous as it may sound, I'm looking to this blog as a bit of a life changer for myself. Somewhere to flat out get it all out. And if I hold back, then what's the point? Sometimes it's going to be funny, and sometimes it's going to be the farthest thing from it. So I suppose that's a bit of a warning to the below, which isn't a funny story about my daily outfit choices at age 14 or a story about a hilarious encounter with a fire alarm. But it's real, and I think a good indication that you really never know what to expect in life. And when you think you know, you're probably wrong.
I don’t know if it’s the decent one day crappy the next weather, the fact that I am inevitably hormonal this time of month, or plain and simple timing, but yesterday, while drying my hands on the nasty gas station-esque hand towel roll in the office bathroom – it finally hit me – My parents are getting a divorce.
This situation is nothing new – it’s been going on for a solid two years now. But, instead of giving myself a second to stop and think about how I really feel about it all, I’ve thrown myself into trying to keep my pride-and-joy 14 year old sister’s feelings and home life as positive as possible, and in general tried to make a joke of the entire situation. I mean, really, who’s parents get divorced when they’re my age? Nobody’s. Here I am in a long term relationship, hoping and praying that my own happily ever after wedding will come along in the near future… and the closest marriage to me is falling apart in front of my eyes.
As I mentioned before, I’ve done a fairly good job of shrugging the big D word off, laughing when I talk to friends about it and making it seem like I don’t have a care in the world as long as my sister is feeling ok with it all. And then this week, I’m all of a sudden thinking about my dad living in an apartment by himself somewhere, my siblings and I only seeing ONE parent at holiday get togethers, trying to keep track of how much time I’ve spent with one parent so I’m not neglecting my relationship with the other. I feel like an awkward teenager, going through some transitional period in my life where I’m sure the entire world is pointing and laughing at me. Instead, (although still awkward) I’m a 28 year old with a mortgage and a full time job, trying to keep faith in my own relationship and the happy “normal” future we dream about together.
Thankfully, I have amazing friends like L to remind me that I while I love them, I am NOT my parents. And let’s not forget our snazzy new blog where I can document all the moments where I’m not quite sure I can handle it all. Because really, that’s what this navigating adulthood thing is all about, right? Talking, yelling, running, or in my case – blogging - it all out in a desperate attempt to get it all to make some sense… and quickly realizing that it never has made sense, and never will, but in the end – it will be okay.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Cue Awkward Small Talk
by K
I don't believe I've ever hoped for weekdays to go by as slowly as I'd like them to this week. Usually, by Tuesday morning I'm praying for the weekend, doing everything in my power to stay awake at my desk and focus on the tasks at hand before two glorious days of whatever I want. Then I got a postcard in the mail inviting me to an inevitable event for those of us in our late 20's, which happens to be coming up quickly this Saturday. An invitation that I knew was coming, and dreaded like a root canal. A invitation that would pose the question of, literally, the decade. Will I attend, or will I not?
That's right - it's time for my 10 year high school reunion.
Now there's kids like my sister, who's a freshman this year and already loving it like she was made for our 3,000 plus kids school. She's got a cute date to homecoming this weekend, is participating full force in spirit week, and has been to more football games in a month than I ever went to in four years. When her 10 year reunion rolls around, I can already see her thrilled to be there. Heck, I wouldn't be surprised if she ends up on the committee to plan the thing.
Then there's kids like me. Never cool, always too small for my own good, and a prime example of a walking fashion disaster, I was one of the kids who was made fun of ruthlessly starting with day one in the cafeteria. I'll never forget the day the LARGEST girl I had ever seen sneered at all 4-foot-11 and 85 pounds of me... and then proceeded to throw a little cup of ketchup at my sweet purple Jansport backpack, ruining it and my superbly cool tshirt from Florida my grandmother got me on a recent trip. The ketchup matched the red streak in my hair that I'd dyed with koolaid over the summer, and likely also matched the color I'm certain my face turned immediately. I walked away with my head down, praying that the one (hot hot hot) senior guy I knew didn't see me, and biting my tongue because however small, I had a BIG righteous streak in me that was fighting to get out and get back at that girl with something witty and smart. In all honesty, I was afraid if I ever talked back she would literally sit on me, and so began my freshman year.
While I eventually grew into myself a bit, made friends and joined clubs and sports, I wouldn't say that high school was necessarily the best four years of my life, and because of that I can't imagine why I have allowed myself to be suckered into reliving it all this Saturday, but I'm going to do it anyways. I've run into several of my least favorite classmates over the years, including the ketchup tosser (who, for the record has only gotten BIGGER. Karma is a bitch, and I love it for these incidents exactly), and each time I have a minor panic attack as I suck in my breath and curse myself for still letting them get to me 10 years later. But this time, I will be prepared (drinks Saturday afternoon anyone?) and walking tall. I will obviously be going to great lengths to be sure I look and feel absolutely faaaaabulous this weekend, and I'm crossing my fingers that on Sunday I'll be looking back on it all (likely with a hangover), content with my decision to go.
I don't believe I've ever hoped for weekdays to go by as slowly as I'd like them to this week. Usually, by Tuesday morning I'm praying for the weekend, doing everything in my power to stay awake at my desk and focus on the tasks at hand before two glorious days of whatever I want. Then I got a postcard in the mail inviting me to an inevitable event for those of us in our late 20's, which happens to be coming up quickly this Saturday. An invitation that I knew was coming, and dreaded like a root canal. A invitation that would pose the question of, literally, the decade. Will I attend, or will I not?
That's right - it's time for my 10 year high school reunion.
Now there's kids like my sister, who's a freshman this year and already loving it like she was made for our 3,000 plus kids school. She's got a cute date to homecoming this weekend, is participating full force in spirit week, and has been to more football games in a month than I ever went to in four years. When her 10 year reunion rolls around, I can already see her thrilled to be there. Heck, I wouldn't be surprised if she ends up on the committee to plan the thing.
Then there's kids like me. Never cool, always too small for my own good, and a prime example of a walking fashion disaster, I was one of the kids who was made fun of ruthlessly starting with day one in the cafeteria. I'll never forget the day the LARGEST girl I had ever seen sneered at all 4-foot-11 and 85 pounds of me... and then proceeded to throw a little cup of ketchup at my sweet purple Jansport backpack, ruining it and my superbly cool tshirt from Florida my grandmother got me on a recent trip. The ketchup matched the red streak in my hair that I'd dyed with koolaid over the summer, and likely also matched the color I'm certain my face turned immediately. I walked away with my head down, praying that the one (hot hot hot) senior guy I knew didn't see me, and biting my tongue because however small, I had a BIG righteous streak in me that was fighting to get out and get back at that girl with something witty and smart. In all honesty, I was afraid if I ever talked back she would literally sit on me, and so began my freshman year.
While I eventually grew into myself a bit, made friends and joined clubs and sports, I wouldn't say that high school was necessarily the best four years of my life, and because of that I can't imagine why I have allowed myself to be suckered into reliving it all this Saturday, but I'm going to do it anyways. I've run into several of my least favorite classmates over the years, including the ketchup tosser (who, for the record has only gotten BIGGER. Karma is a bitch, and I love it for these incidents exactly), and each time I have a minor panic attack as I suck in my breath and curse myself for still letting them get to me 10 years later. But this time, I will be prepared (drinks Saturday afternoon anyone?) and walking tall. I will obviously be going to great lengths to be sure I look and feel absolutely faaaaabulous this weekend, and I'm crossing my fingers that on Sunday I'll be looking back on it all (likely with a hangover), content with my decision to go.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
False Alarm
by L
So, I have a very sensitive fire alarm in my very ancient apartment. Like, the pre-pubescent tween girl kind of sensitive. It’s definitely better than the alternative, but seriously the second I turn on the stove, BAAM! the thing is blaring.
Now normally, my taller than me husband has the thing off the wall before it starts wailing. But last night I was home alone and forgot to take it down. Sure enough, before I know it I have a pot on the stove boiling wildly and a blaring fire alarm that I can’t reach. So I’m scrambling for a chair and frantically trying to get the thing off the wall while slicing my finger open, all before our neighbors freak out and the fire department comes.
Now let’s stop right there.
Growing up, I was under the impression that if the fire alarm went off for more than about a minute, the fire department was alerted and would come to the rescue. And it would be very very expensive to send them away if it was a false alarm. So it was very very important to make sure to turn off the alarm ASAP if it went off due to bad cooking skills.
Yeah…apparently that is a LIE, unless maybe you have a fancy dancy alarm system. Which we didn’t. We were the family that had the ADT sticker on our front door as a scare tactic (oldest trick in the book, Dad).
So, back to last night when said tall husband returned home. I was telling him (while bandaging my finger) that it was a good thing that I was able to get it off the wall, but that it was a close call and I was nervous the fire department would be alerted. To which he laughed in my face, and informed me that he has seen the fire alarms in my childhood home, and they are definitely not linked to any “system.”
So. MOM…DAD… whatever you said to me, it stuck. But I’m not happy about it. And I’m really wondering what else you “taught” me that I should have disregarded.
So, I have a very sensitive fire alarm in my very ancient apartment. Like, the pre-pubescent tween girl kind of sensitive. It’s definitely better than the alternative, but seriously the second I turn on the stove, BAAM! the thing is blaring.
Now normally, my taller than me husband has the thing off the wall before it starts wailing. But last night I was home alone and forgot to take it down. Sure enough, before I know it I have a pot on the stove boiling wildly and a blaring fire alarm that I can’t reach. So I’m scrambling for a chair and frantically trying to get the thing off the wall while slicing my finger open, all before our neighbors freak out and the fire department comes.
Now let’s stop right there.
Growing up, I was under the impression that if the fire alarm went off for more than about a minute, the fire department was alerted and would come to the rescue. And it would be very very expensive to send them away if it was a false alarm. So it was very very important to make sure to turn off the alarm ASAP if it went off due to bad cooking skills.
Yeah…apparently that is a LIE, unless maybe you have a fancy dancy alarm system. Which we didn’t. We were the family that had the ADT sticker on our front door as a scare tactic (oldest trick in the book, Dad).
So, back to last night when said tall husband returned home. I was telling him (while bandaging my finger) that it was a good thing that I was able to get it off the wall, but that it was a close call and I was nervous the fire department would be alerted. To which he laughed in my face, and informed me that he has seen the fire alarms in my childhood home, and they are definitely not linked to any “system.”
So. MOM…DAD… whatever you said to me, it stuck. But I’m not happy about it. And I’m really wondering what else you “taught” me that I should have disregarded.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Drumroll Please...
Welcome to Graceful Navigation!
We are Kelly and Lauren. Brought together by the crazy world of a marketing agency, bonded together by finding our way through our late 20s. We make it through every day together, by laughing at the madness of it all. And trust us, there is some serious madness.
We're not professional bloggers (though we would die to be)... We're just average, boring (but witty) friends in desperate need of a place to spew random facts, recipes we love, things we're dying to buy (but can't because we work in marketing/have a mortgage/want a mortgage), show off pictures of our cute dog/husband/boyfriend and provide updates on our lives for the 6 people (total) that want them.
If there's something you want us to ramble about, tell us! It'll be a nice esteem boost. Otherwise, prepare to be underwhelmed.
And if at the end of the day you're still wanting more... you can follow us on "the" twitter (love you betty white) here and here, and you can follow Kelly's other blog (overachiever).
xo,
K+L
We are Kelly and Lauren. Brought together by the crazy world of a marketing agency, bonded together by finding our way through our late 20s. We make it through every day together, by laughing at the madness of it all. And trust us, there is some serious madness.
We're not professional bloggers (though we would die to be)... We're just average, boring (but witty) friends in desperate need of a place to spew random facts, recipes we love, things we're dying to buy (but can't because we work in marketing/have a mortgage/want a mortgage), show off pictures of our cute dog/husband/boyfriend and provide updates on our lives for the 6 people (total) that want them.
If there's something you want us to ramble about, tell us! It'll be a nice esteem boost. Otherwise, prepare to be underwhelmed.
And if at the end of the day you're still wanting more... you can follow us on "the" twitter (love you betty white) here and here, and you can follow Kelly's other blog (overachiever).
xo,
K+L
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