Being 26: "Well, you look super young." "I *am* super young! I'm not old yet!"

This past week, my cousin turned 16. This proves to be a problem as I am ten years older than her, yet I'm convinced I'm only 20...maybe 22, because I can drink alcohol legally.

I really wish I could put a table into my blog--a tree map might work well too. I'd label it: "Being 26" and one side of the tree map would be "Signs I actually am 26", the other: "Signs I may be another age."

Moving to Chicago, I think I've taken some strides to become more "26." Yes, in many ways, I may be a bit more grown-up. However, after a dinner of goldfish and diet coke tonight, I couldn't help but wonder: How old am I?

So, in non-tree map form, I give to you (you=I think I have some friends and family who pity-read this...) some insight into Alex as a 26-year old:

5. Food

• Sign I'm actually 26: I've started cooking. I use that word loosely--I sometimes just put a bunch of things together to ensure I have something to eat (in general, guacamole mixed with anything=a win), but I've made some "fancy" dishes. Asparagus risotto? Lentil salad? Homemade vegetable soup? Who am I (and thank goodness for Pinterest!)?
• Sign I may be another age: Goldfish+diet coke=dinner. I also really enjoy fruit snacks and consider them a reliable and tasty source of Vitamin C.
• Average age? 26 +10 (well, not all 10-year olds are allowed to drink soda, but I feel the fruit snacks bring me down to 10)/2=18

4. Clothing

• Sign I'm actually 26: I wear dresses to work. I actually have work clothing that I don't wear on the weekends, and most of my clothing needs to be hung up.
• Sign I may be another age: I'm on the hunt for a dinosaur sweatshirt and a penguin sweater; I already own an owl hat. I know--I'm too cool for school.
• Average age? 26+8/2=17

3. Personal Care (I bet you're wondering what this actually means...well, I didn't know what this fell under so personal care it is)

• Sign I'm actually 26: I sometimes get my nails done (when I don't bite them), I regularly get haircuts, and I pay for these things myself. I also own a Sonicare toothbrush and a Clarisonic Plus.
• Sign I may be another age: I've slept on our couch several nights this week--there's no one to force me to go to bed like when I was little, and thus all those awesome things go to waste, because I don't actually wash my face/brush my teeth/etc. unless I feel so inclined when I wake up at 4 a.m. I also own a penguin humidifier.
• Average age? Not sure how to calculate this one. I'll call this 20.

Photo source

2. Drinks

• Sign I'm actually 26: I drink green tea or mint tea on a regular basis; they make me happy, and I also instantly feel healthier drinking them (yes, it's a complete placebo effect, but hey, if I want to believe it, gosh darn it, I will). When I go out, I like to get drinks with faces like my cool drink from the tiki bar.
• Sign I may be another age: I still think milk and water taste gross. Nothing tastes better than a fountain diet coke; I had one for dessert the other night.
• Average age? 26+10/2=16

Always true

1. Reading

• Sign I'm actually 26: I don't read textbooks or have assigned books to read--and I read for fun. I also read the news. I've discovered there's a whole lot I don't know, and I figure I might as well start reading every day to learn just a little bit more.
• Sign I may be another age: The Hunger Games. Divergent. Anything by Mo Willems.
• Average age? 26+9 (I'm averaging The Hunger Games with Mo Willems)/2=14.5

Dream home?

And now a sign that I am NOT 16 but actually am 26, it's 11:30 p.m., and I'm tired. I want to write more, but really, I just want to go to sleep.

So off to bed I go. To my grown-up bed. With an owl pillow. Scary thought? I turn 27 in less than 2 months...

♥a

I could have retired, I ate soap, and other stories from Chicago...

I'm comfortably sprawled out on my couch at my place in Lincoln Park, and I'm listening to wonderful music.
I live in a beautiful city, and I'm surrounded by friends and family.
Dare I say it? I'm blissfully happy.

To be honest, I don't know how I'd define happiness vs. blissful happiness, but I like the way "blissfully happy" reads. Odds are, on most days, I feel happy. I have no reason not to be happy--but this move, starting a new job in a "new" city brought a whole new level of happiness.

...and I think that's all I'm going to write tonight. I'm blissfully happy. Short, sweet, and to the point.

Stories to come in the future, I promise.

♥a

P.S. I really did accidentally eat soap today.
P.P.S. I also am convinced if I never bought anything from iTunes I could have retired by now.

To Chicago I go...

I fell asleep. In a bar.

Yup, old age has hit when I fall asleep in bars (and when I don't think through my eating habits and just let myself drink on a practically empty stomach...). Last night I was lucky enough to have drinks with some friends to celebrate moving! In just two days I head to Chicago. It still hasn't fully sunk in that I am moving, moving far far away from my home the past 8 years.

8 years ago, I remember packing up 3 suitcases for Pepperdine. The night before I packed my 45 polos into my suitcases, my cousins, who at the time were 7 and 5 I believe, played a game called, "Who can count Alex's shoes the fastest?" They ran along the line of shoes I was packing (a mere 15 at the time) and tried to "outcount" each other. As I packed up 2 boxes and a suitcase of shoes, I realized, some things never change. I still own far too many pairs.

When I arrived at Pepperdine, it was the first time I'd ever been there. I never visited, just applied and accepted, because really, can you fake photos of the ocean? Pepperdine didn't scream "college" to me with its lack of gothic architecture, but Pepperdine was by far the best choice I could have made.
One of my first nights at Pepp, I remember playing beach volleyball on campus, and then heading to the beach in my friend's convertible later that night. Pepperdine wins.

I also learned a lot of things at Pepperdine. From basic things to life lessons...
-->Lesson #1 of college: How to make my bed
My roommate from freshman year still tells me she remembers walking in to see my in a bright pink polo as my brother explained, "So you put the fitted sheet on your bed first..."
-->Lesson #8 of college: Not everyone wears their pajamas to class
Enter Alex. I wore sweats and a tie-dye shirt to my first college class. Pepperdine is not your typical college, and everyone else looked really cute and trendy at 8 am. Lesson learned.
-->Lesson #23 of college: Walk everywhere
At Pepperdine, walking up and down the hills=the best workout ever. This also made for an exhausting run up the hills and the stairs when I overslept for my Spanish final.
-->Lesson #35 of college: Life is tough. Suck it up.
Okay, so I've known this to be true for a while, but things happened in college to reinforce this message.
-->Lesson #39 of college: DC is an amazing city. 
No details needed.

-->Lesson #41 of college: A lot can happen on a Pepperdine cruise.
Hiking waterfalls, dancing, swollen ankles, singing "Sweet Caroline,"continuing to dance with a tennis-ball-sized ankle.

-->Lesson #47 of college: When asked how much pain you are in, always say 10.
I said my pain was a 3, and I hung out in an ER waiting room for over an hour and also then in an actual patient room for at least 1 more. Once the doctor saw me, she never left me alone. The following scale is completely inaccurate (yet it's what I use):
1-I feel fine!
5-I feel awful, someone has ripped off my arm.
7-I feel terrible, someone has ripped off my other arm.
10-I am limbless. Please help me.
-->Lesson #52 of college: It's not normal to make a to-do list after a cancer diagnosis...
but I'm not normal.
-->Lesson #53 of college: A cheerful heart is good medicine. 
Proverbs 17:22
-->Lesson #54 of college: Losing your hair sucks. That said, make-up will make things a little better.

-->Lesson #58 of college: Should giant fires occur on your college campus, run...
but don't forget your wallet.

-->Lesson #75 of college: I have the best friends and family in the world.
It's unreal how much I love them.

From Malibu, I ventured up to San Jose. Oh teaching. It seems like it's been forever since I began teaching, but really, it's only been 4 years, and it's been a blur. Things have been so busy, and I wish I could post photos of all my students, but I'm not allowed to. So I will just say, teaching has been an ADVENTURE. It has been a challenge, but at the end of the day, my students have made every single day a joyful one for me. I do not even have words to express how much I love each student I have had, and I am so excited for their futures. They are going to change the world. Watch out.

When I chose to move down to LA, I remember thinking: "I know that likely my mom is going to die in the next six months to a year. Where can I be where I will be supported?" Comienza was and is that place. The same day I came down to interview at KCCP (and turned my 1-day trip into a weekend visit), I found out my mom had cancer. Treating the cancer was not worth it for her; she was DNR, and so we would treat the symptoms and pain but not the cancer itself.

I remember another teacher at my school telling me, "Alex, if ever a life needed a pause button, yours does." Things happened quicker than I ever imagined. I remember getting a phone call from my dad on a Friday night letting me know about my mom...or maybe it was a Thursday. I don't remember it all too clearly, but I do remember going and buying a pint of ice cream as I processed the fact that my mom had started refusing liquids.

...and then I remember getting a call early one morning the next week. My dad was calling to tell me my mom had taken her last few breaths on October 3rd, 2011. I somewhat deliriously went into work and taught all day and at some point booked a flight home.

I still remember getting on my flight headed to Florida, and an older man had taken my seat. I showed him my ticket, and said, "I think you're in my seat. My ticket says 25C, what does yours say?"
The man: Oh, I traded with someone else for this seat.
Me: Um, but the person you traded with, it wasn't his seat to trade. It's actually my seat.
The man: Well, I need this aisle seat.
Me: Sir, who did you trade with? Maybe I can talk to him?
The man: Oh I'm not sure, but he was sitting here, so I asked him for his seat, and he said, "Of course!"
Me: Well that was very nice of him, but he gave you my seat. What does your ticket say? Maybe I can just sit in your seat...

...and I did. I sat in his aisle seat after someone else TRADED AWAY my seat.

I spent a week and a half at home. It was so good to be with family, to tell crazy stories about my mom, because she was so amazing.

A lot has happened in the past 8 years.
18: Graduated from high school. Led a summer service trip back to West Virginia. Moved to California. Learned how to make my bed (thanks, Chris). Pepperdine. Sunburn. Sick. Often. That damn "stomach flu."
19: Still sick. Often. Nursing homes. DC. Cruise. Surgery. Fun.
20: Chemo. GREAT news...end of chemo. Health. Saw Matthew Perry in Ralph's. Got a MINI. Never knew how many options and choices there are when buying a car.
21: A pretty tame year. Some Tri Delt drama, but let's be honest, life has been worse (see 20th birthday). Ooh, I also went trapezing. That was fun...and I got a dog.

22: Graduating from college. Learning how to teach kindergarteners. Moving all by myself. Vandalism to my car. Finances.
23: Finished my first year of teaching and my first year of grad school. Harassment. Lead kindergarten teacher-ness. Moved again.

24: Moved to LA. Started a new job. Mom passed away.

25: A relatively tame year as well. Busy-ness but all good things! Began grad school. Again. Chris and B got engaged!

26: My stupid dog who I love immensely got hit by a car. No bueno. As my dad said, "Alex, I feel like this is God's way of reminding you that life is tough. I mean things were going pretty well for you. It was almost a warning." Thanks, Dad.

The best photo of Chloe. Ever. Chloe soup.

...and so on to Chicago I go. It feels like the right time to transition back. Life is as normal as it's ever going to be, and I can't wait to see what the city brings. A lot has changed since I was 18. Hopefully I won't be napping in bars there as well...but hopefully I will find some amazing friends like the ones I have here. I'm going to miss this city, the beach, these people.

Come visit me. Come be my friend in Chicago. Let's go to some Cubs games. Let's take more awkward family photos.

Here. We. Go.

♥a

P.S. There was A in the Bay. Then A in LA. What in Chicago rhymes with A??

“There are lives I can imagine without children but none of them have the same laughter & noise.” -Brian Andreas

I have been trying to process what happened in Newtown, Connecticut over the past 36 hours.

I also know there's no way to process it...no way to understand what happened at Sandy Hook Elementary School yesterday.

20 children are dead.
6 adults are dead.
There is no comprehending that kind of loss.

What I think scares me even more is that this is not the first time this has happened. When Columbine happened, my world was rocked; my school's world was rocked, and everything stopped. We put on the TV. We sat stunned in our classrooms that anything like that could happen, and we started asking questions: Can this happen at our school? What do we do if this happens? Why does this happen? I remember talking with my parents, with my teachers and friends at school--and I remember thinking about Columbine and being affected by it for a long time after that April day in sixth grade, and since then I have been taken aback each time a similar event has taken place.

Newtown similarly stopped me in my tracks yesterday. I caught a glimpse of a breaking news feed on twitter, and my stomach dropped. I looked at my classroom, with 28 bright faces, and I very nearly threw up in my room. It's unthinkable. 20 of those 28 students not being there, not being with me each day at school.

Earlier in the week, I watched someone present her vision for her school. There's something powerful about seeing graphics depicting college graduation rates in LA. This future school leader chose to use photos of her former students--24 photos became 2; 2 students of 24 might graduate from college given the current status of education. Currently 4% of students in east and south LA earn a college degree.

Those photos...they give me goosebumps. They make me want to cry--to think that is the status of education in east and south LA is awful, and when I saw those photos, instead of seeing that woman's students, I saw my own.

...Then, I began to think about those very students, those photos, and instead, this time they are not wiped away because of graduation statistics, but rather, because of one awful, terrible act of violence. This time, it's not just goosebumps I feel. I feel nauseous. I feel absolutely sick to my stomach, and unlike college graduation rates, which I feel empowered and capable of changing, I feel ill, because I don't know how to stop these crazy acts from happening.

Before our winter celebration began in our classroom, I told my students: "I just want to tell you that I love you--I am going to miss you so much over break. You make me so happy, and I hope you call and text me all break long!" I took extra hugs from my students as they left (more than just the one that's always required before they leave each day), and I really do hope they call and text me over break, because that means they are alive and well...and it's something I shouldn't have to worry about over break, nor is it something any parent should ever have to worry about either.

However, last night and today, life went on. I know the world doesn't stop when bad (or good) things happen, but sometimes it just feels like it should. I know we have to celebrate the goodness that is around us and be so grateful that we are in the presence of friends and family we love, but I also wish that we all just mourned for more than an hour, more than a day. We all should be mourning. 20 children died yesterday. There's no need to call them "innocent"--they were children; of course they were innocent. 20 families' lives were ripped apart yesterday, and today, they are still ripped apart. They are going through pain I can never imagine, and right now, there are no comforting words to make these parents feel okay about the loss of their sons and daughters.

There's no neat way to wrap this post up--there's nothing to be said that makes any of what happened in Newtown make sense. I think it's okay that I feel like my insides have been shredded over the loss of these children; as terrible as that description sounds, I know it's nothing compared to what their families feel. I think it's okay that I still feel pain about children being murdered, even though I didn't know them. The only thing I know that's not okay: what happened yesterday, and I hope that we figure out what to do next to make sure it doesn't happen again.

♥a

Here's to a year...

Just over a year ago, I gave a really fun eulogy (sarcasm marks). I also ate a whole pint of ice cream, probably drank an entire pitcher of margaritas, and emptied my bank account doing some retail therapy.

I took today off and realized that at some point I need to start cataloging all these memories I have of my mom--so many things remind me of her, and so many of those memories are from quite a long time ago.  I have two younger cousins both of whom pretty much only knew my mom when she was sick, and most of my friends have never met her.

So, here are the little things I remember, some of the little memories I don't want to forget:

• When I was in elementary school, my mom would sometimes pick me up early from school...and we'd take the train downtown to go the opera, ballet, theater, whatever she picked.  When we were there we would eat these little candies, and for whatever reason, I felt super cool and fancy eating them. Maybe because they come in a cool little tin:

I currently have 3 of them at home--in fact, I'm eating lemon ones as I write--probably getting super cool cavities, because I'm chewing them for maximum sugariness.

• My mom, like me, would do almost anything to make people laugh. When she got sick, I did ridiculous things like decorating her with garland...and doing ballet with a tree skirt on...to make her smile. Please note that these photos are from when I was a freshman in college.

• My mom was a force-to-be-reckoned with, as someone wrote in a letter to my family last year. She did not put up with anyone unless she wanted to... I believe this face (and the flipper about to be thrown) says plenty.

• My mom loved animals, particularly dogs. I'm pretty sure the prompt for this photo was: "Go stand by your dad and pretend like he had a say in whether or not we brought these dogs home..."

• My mom loved her family beyond belief. There are so many hilarious things about this photo (oh my dad's teeth and hair...MY teeth and hair...but it's great nonetheless).

• My mom could sleep through anything. Every night she would fall asleep while we watched TV on the couch.  I now understand why I fall asleep in my work clothes nearly everyday.

• My mom pretty much never wore makeup.

• Similarly, my mom didn't care what other people thought of her. At all. She was pretty damn fearless.

• "When you were finally allowed to come home you weighed 4 pounds but you sure were feisty. You were also a battler just as your mother was." My mom was a battler. :)

• My mom made my brother's and my Halloween costumes. Not in the cool, "Wow your costumes are so fancy way," but in the "Hm, you want to be a princess? Well, why not wear this dress you wore as a flower girl?" or "Really, Chris, you want to be Zorro? I'm sure Zorro had a pair of white shoes too..." way

• My mom had a really great "I'm not impressed" look. I realized this while looking through photos. Thankful I don't remember receiving this look from her!

• My mom was an amazing shopper. She was a pro at searching through sale racks. I unfortunately inherited both my parents' shopping styles: I love sales...and I also am convinced spending more for something is worth it (thanks, Dad). I'm sure my bank account agrees.

• My mom had a lot of confidence: she thought she did amazing accents and also thought she was an amazing singer. I of course loved when she would sing in the car when my friends were present--or even better, when she would bust out her accents in front of friends and their families. I wasn't embarrassed...at all... ;)

• My mom thought Dove soap, Clinique's 3-step system, and Aveda's tea tree oil were the only beauty products you might need. I have learned this to be false.

• My mom also insisted that a cheeseburger could cure almost anything. I have learned this to be true. I ate a cheeseburger 2 days before going to the ER and was convinced I was fine--48 hours later I had surgery, but that cheeseburger really fixed things for 2 days!

That's all for now, folks (anyone get the reference??). My brain is tired, and I'm out of photos. Here's to a year.

If you want more mom-awesomeness, see below:

Top Ten Life Lessons My Mom Taught Me

A Letter to the Most Wonderful Woman I've Ever Known

Round 2

♥a