Monday, November 4, 2013

Music Monday: (sort of)

Today is supposed to be Music Monday. Well, I don't feel like writing today. Blogging is hard.

Sometimes I feel like I have nothing to write. Sometimes I feel like I have too much to write. Sometimes I feel like this just isn't the right platform for what I really want to write.

Then there are days where I spend four straight hours on a project proposal, rationale, and annotated list of 30 historical fiction books for second graders and feel like I get a free pass on being productive for the rest of the day. Unrealistic? A cop-out? Maybe. But that's my own problem to work on, and today is just one of those days. Yet since we're not exactly the best at this, (or maybe we're just lacking in time... or ambition, no one knows) and we haven't posted in a week, I feel obligated to post now.

So since it is in fact Music Monday, here's my I-did-too-much-and-have-no-ambition-left-today music post of the week:

A cover of "Harbour Lights" by A Silent Film. (and in case you hate our cover, the original artist version is below :)

Check out the rest of the videos on the amazing Allie Tiangco's channel as well :)




Monday, October 28, 2013

Music Mondays: Stop, breathe, reset.

I woke up to a jackhammer annihilating the pavement in front of my house this morning at 7:30. Since today was the day I gave myself to sleep in, you may go ahead and safely assume that I was not exactly thrilled about this aggressive wake-up call. Now, when I say "sleep in" I mean until around 8am but still, that half hour is crucial! Anyway, my annoyance was only momentary because really, what could I do about it? I was now awake and the work outside did not appear to be stopping anytime soon. So I dragged myself out of bed and into my workout clothes. Although my day started at Pure Barre with lifting, toning, and burning to Top 40 music, it feels more a serene Monday. It feels more like a day I want to stop and enjoy rather than rush through it while listening to Lady Gaga, Jay-Z, and Selena Gomez.

Monday, October 21, 2013

Music Mondays: Paper pusher's playlist

I'm not usually the kind of person who's like, "Ugh. Mondays." But today has been one of those Mondays. You know the ones - the hit snooze two (okay, three) times, forget to do one stupid thing and it puts you a half hour behind schedule, spill your latte, forget to pack a drink with your lunch, drive around the God-forsaken parking garage-turned-death-trap because no one uses turn signals for literally 15 minutes until you find a spot, then walk into work and get handed this: 

Sunday, October 20, 2013

Nothing but time.


The moment I jumped off the tractor the sticky-sweet vapors of Suncrisp, Macintosh, and Granny Smith wafted through my body as I instinctively closed my eyes, and took a slow, deep breath, turning my face toward the blazing autumn sun.

Without even deliberately trying I was stopped short by the beauty of my surroundings. As my boots left behind the ethereal dust cloud that formed when I hit the dry, dirt ground, I looked around and realized that upon first glance there was nothing particularly astounding about where I was. Rows of trees that had lost the bottom half of their fruit from the eager, early-in-the-season apple pickers. Overgrown grass threaded through with vines, ensnaring the unsuspecting, happy-go-lucky people uniformed in chestnut brown riding boots and plaid button-downs who have decided to spend the day reaching up tree trunks and weaving themselves in-between branches in hopes of finding that one shiny, perfect, succulent, unblemished apple. Apple picking is kind of strange when you think about it, right? So why do we love it?

Sunday, August 18, 2013

325,600 Minutes Later.

My inaugural post here is going to be a long one. Buckle up.

Today marks the one year anniversary of my move to DC. It is bizarre to think about because in the most cliche way it really does feel like yesterday. I can still see myself laying on my parents bed contemplating out-loud if I was making the right decision and my mom responding, " Well, we already rented the van so,..." (Always encouraging, Mom.) This wasn't the first time I had left home for a destination 250 miles away; however, it felt completely different. This time I wasn't purchasing matching bedding and trash cans. This time I was packing everything and leaving "for good." This was a, "I think we're going to need a U-Haul" kind of move. This was something that I both acknowledged and attempted to forget all at once. I cleaned out all my closets. I went through my stuffed animals that had been in the attic. I even got a good-bye party out of it. While I had accepted that I would be gone for a while, my friends were less convinced. DC seemed closer to them than PA and many were under the impression I'd be home in a month. I wasn't. It wouldn't be until Thanksgiving I would see them all again. Regardless, their support in my final few days at home was amazing and beyond what I could have even imagined. Of course, that made leaving that much harder but WE packed up the van, ate our from our favorite dessert spot and said goodbye just like they do in all the movies. Then with their words of encouragement, Target gift cards, gag gifts, and promises to visit soon, I began my journey to DC. 
My last night home in New York. I am not sure how much work we actually did, but the truck did get filled.
It wasn't the living alone in a new city that kept me up at night or that formed that ball of nerves in my stomach. It was graduate school. Although I had been assured by professors and friends alike that I had what it took, I was not so sure. I read book after book and blog after blog about graduate school and became overwhelmed before the year even started. I'd like to say that the worrying was all for nothing, and in some ways maybe it was. The people? Amazing. My cohort is the most supportive group of individuals and we all have been there for each other through a wide range of life events. My professors, too, have been supportive and encouraging while still pushing me further. The school part? Well, I wasn't wrong to worry about that. From day one I seemed to be dealing with those curve-balls life likes to throw. Only Americanist? Sure. Youngest? Even better. And they kept coming.

I've also been up against that proverbial wall more times this year than ever before, because if there is one thing graduate school is good for it is making you realize how little you actually know. It is hard, and for many reasons it is more emotional than anything I have ever done. Maybe it is because of the lack of sleep or maybe it because of the intense passion needed to get this far but every day seems to have an extreme emotional response attached whether it be positive or negative. 

I read a blog post by Carly H... (known as The College Prepster - You should totally check out her blog) here, where she explains all about a breakdown she had recently and as I was reading I kept thinking, "Yup, been there." Twice this year I have had that moment. That moment where you are sitting on the floor completely overwhelmed by everything happening around you. That moment where you become convinced you've made several wrong choices and that there is no way out. Where everyone can offer platitudes and comforting words and all you can hear is your failure or the overwhelming-ness weighing down on you. It happens. It is tough and it is exhausting, BUT you get through it. You sleep for 13 hours. You cry for 3. You call your mom and you eat Shake Shack and you curse whatever got you there. You spend money you don't have and you text your best friend at 3 AM and have them curse everyone and everything with you. Then you reevaluate and you decide your next move. Then you make it. You come out the other side. You realize you do have what it takes. You become a better version of you. For me, both times the answer was to stay in school and keep with it. That doesn't have to be the right answer. The number of times I have heard someone say there is nothing wrong with quitting this year is probably greater than all the previous years combined, and they were all right. If whatever you are doing that caused you to be in this place isn't what you want then quit. Walk away. Whatever you do, do it for you. Many times this year I have gone back to this quote, 
“Sometimes you climb out of bed in the morning and you think, I'm not going to make it, but you laugh inside — remembering all the times you've felt that way.” - Charles Burkowski
Because I would get through the day, the week, the month, and, now, the year. Just like I always had.  

So here we are a year later. Thousands of pages read, hundreds of pages written, innumerable heart-to-hearts, and countless tears later. A broken shower head, a leaking ceiling, and a brief bug infestation later. New role models and mentors later, new friends later, new BEST friends later. 365 days later. It feels like forever and a blink of an eye all at once. There is so much left of this journey known as graduate school and I am by no means an expert, but I finally feel like I have some idea of how to handle it. As I get ready to begin my second year I cannot help but wonder what really lies ahead. Clearly many lessons have been learned this year both academically and personally, but I think the most important was that I am infinitely stronger than I think. All those 325,600 minutes? I've lived them. I've been awake for far too many but they've happened and man, what minutes they've been. 

It's already been an adventure and we have only just begun. 

Clothed in nostalgia and anticipation, 
Sam 

Tuesday, June 25, 2013

En el nombre de Jesús

The past few weeks have been a whirlwind of to-do lists and emotions as I've been prepping to leave to go to Nicaragua on a clean water trip, or as my devotional last night said, I'm getting ready to "travel with a purpose." Between finishing up projects for work, running around to countless stores to make sure I have everything I need, volunteering at church and Girls On The Run, and then remembering to do things like laundry, eat, and sleep, it's been busy to say the very least.

All week I've been flooded with texts and messages and in-person conversations of "Are you ready?!" "You must be so excited!" "When are you leaving?!" "OMG you leave so soon!" All I could say in response is "I'm so nervous! I don't even know why." 

I honestly didn't know why I was so nervous until last night when I was in the middle of our first pre-trip devotional from Living Water International, the organization that my church partners with to make these trips happen.

They asked, "Do you have any fears or apprehensions about going to a new place?" No, I don't get apprehensive about things like this. I love learning about other cultures, and people and what they love -- mid-sentence my hand stopped writing. I knew why I was nervous.

Sunday, May 12, 2013

On purpose, reshaped dreams, and not being a mom.

"Are you a mother?"

A simple, well-intentioned question so that this stranger could wish me a Happy Mother's Day if I answered in the affirmative. Yet, those four words struck a chord in me that I had been tirelessly working for months to silence.

"No, I'm not." Through the most genuine smile I could muster I offered, "but Happy Mother's Day to you! Have a wonderful day!" As she caught her rambunctious child's arm and led him out of my classroom with a look on her face that half-pleaded to leave him, my heart longed to be in her place.

When I was still in my single-digit years people frequently asked what I wanted be when I grew up. I'm sure you can identify. My grandma would throw out lofty goals like doctor, scientist who discovers the cure for cancer, best-selling author. You know, the things people suggest when they're trying to teach you how to dream the biggest dreams you can conjure - when they're trying to teach you how to fly. Except that sometimes this leaves you flightless instead.

"A mom," I would firmly respond.

About Us

Sam and Kelly are currently trying to survive grad school and make some sense of this crazy but beautiful world in which we live. 

Saturday, May 11, 2013

Kelly


Sam