Real Quick

On the syllabus I had for myself for this month I had "Write Blog Post" down for today, but I'm just under the wire of my grandma-like east coast hour worknight bedtime, so I've just gotta share this thought quickly...

Not for the first time, I was just told by a friend that they wish they could have a bit more of the faith I have in knowing I will end up where I'm supposed to end up, with who I'm supposed to end up, however I'm supposed to end up there.  And I told her I always wish I could do a better job of giving some of it to others - some of this faith in everything working itself out and optimism in general.

 

If I could put either in pill form I'd proscribe both for all my friends and sisters and sisterfriends.

 

Oddly enough, back at BC, I once introduced myself as Danielle Naugler - the blonde curly haired Danielle (there were a few of us on the council of majors being introduced to incoming Freshman theatre majors) - and beyond excited to be meeting them all... I must have said something else witty or welcoming or what have you, however I delivered the intro it got a good laugh and hearty applause from the crowd, but what was best was the compliment it garnered from one of my favorite teachers in the department...

"That energy," he said to me with a potentially inebriated heavy handed pat on the shoulder, "if I could take it, and BOTTLE it, and SELL it, I'd be a millionaire."

He loved it.

I loved it.

I love life.

A few firsts of note

Was thinking about my first time tonight - how special it was.  It was in New Mexico.  And I honestly had no idea what the guy was doing.  Because I'd given him my keys and thought he was going to drive, but when he walked over to the passenger side door, I said, "oh you want me to drive?" and he shook his head as if to say, you silly silly city girl.

"I'm opening the door for you."

He was opening the door for me.  It was the first time a gentleman had actually gone and done that so matter of factly and deliberately at the same time.  It was the first time a guy had done that for me when I wasn't you know, carrying cupcakes, or Christmas gifts or something of that nature.  So naturally I spazzed.  I may have blushed, cause I was literally tickled pink at the thought.  And I sort of guffawed because I was so genuinely surprised and entertained by the gesture.

And anyway - on the west coast it's common for guys to get the door for girls I think.  Or else maybe I've only been meeting Southern transplants, but either way, what's sad is that the novelty's worn off.  It will never be as magical as it was when it happened in Enchanted NM.

The first time you fall in puppy love's pretty irreplaceable too.  I mean puppy sighs sort of puppy love.  Literally when the puppy that is yours without a doubt first senses you've had a terrible day at work, or you're so tired you can hardly keep your eyes open, or most of the people you love most in this world are thousands of miles away at present, so he snuggles up on your lap, or in the crook of your arm or with his head right on your shoulder if it's night time and you're saying your prayers.

I remember the first time my parents' dog, Rusty, sensed I'd really been hurt by a recent break up and he followed me up stairs and slept at the foot of my bed.  I love that scruffy looking, underbite yielding, fourth position footed pup, don't get me wrong, but Little B's the best thing I can imagine bringing into the picture on a "make better bad decisions in 2014" whim and wow does he fill my heart with real deal maternal love for the first time.

That's all she wrote tonight, folks, but at least she wrote!

How ACK ruined me for and gave me new life

Five years ago in April of 2009 I got this gchat from one of my best guy friends from high school that just said "wanna move to nantucket this summer"

And I didn't really think before saying yes.  I'd grown up visiting my great grandparents on the Cape, but I'd never been to the islands off of Massachusetts, I didn't need to have seen it to know it was where I needed to be that Summer though, so I just went.  I picked up and moved to the middle of the Atlantic ocean.  Lived in a verified 3 bedroom house we called The Hourglass:

here it is in all it's 4th of July at sunset glory

Worked mornings as an agent and split my afternoons between time on Cisco, Surfside or Nobadeer beach and spent writing parts of my great American (teeny bopper) novel (estimated publishing date 2016).

Got over my college bf once and for all.  Drank way too much, and gained an annoying amount of weight.  Got a gig hosting an airband competition on Sunday nights.  Had half a hundred friends and family members visit for memorable weekends of whimsy. 

Had a time, really.  It was the summer we were 24 and 25 - there were no rules but our house rules, there was no rush, but there was always somewhere to be later that night...the Chicken Box for Donovan Frankenreiter, the Wauwinet for a tasting at Toppers, in town to pick up so and so or whoever it was that was getting in that night on the last ferry.

But anyway - I bring it up to point out the way it ruined me.  (The ways it gave me new life are obvious I think - I was so independent: picking flowers in a field to put in the wicker basket I'd brought from Elsworth to spruce up our living room, unavailable to be at my family and friends' beck and call for the first time in my life - Nantucket Naugs was the ultimate free spirit and throw your hands up at me sort of sisterfriend).  It ruined me because my two roomies and I lived in said 3 bedroom house sans furniture, sans a full set of utensils, sans cable, sans over head lighting, sans a full length mirror, sans so many things... But we lived soooo fully and had so much fun, and we were always in the moment, whether we were out on the porch in sleeping bags staring up at the stars or secretly off-roading in the jeep my roomie bought on a whim one afternoon.  And we wanted for nothing.  We thought we were going out ther in search of ourselves and of answers and of the things we would realize we should do next, but we wound up content just treading water.  We made it work in so many ways and with so little effort.

And ever since, I've just reveled in this knowledge of the ability I acquired amidst adapting to a minimalistic existence - the ability I have to float.  I need so little.

I deserve so much (we all do, bright lights that we are, good hearts that we have, generous spirits, talented selves), but I need so little...

Hence - how and why I was fine sleeping on the floor for my first 10 days in LA this January ;)

 

From A to Zac Effron

As in... how I got from not being able to pick Zac Effron out of a crowd to pledging in a chirp to the twittersphere yesterday that I will love him forever and a day.  In all of his angsty glory:





As a marine:

 

And even if he has been in / to rehab.

FOREVER.

and a day.

You see it all started when I was being a teacher's assistant at a summer camp in Weston a few (ahem, over five years ago now), and got asked by the camp director to run a theatre workshop, and taught the kids to sing that song from the original High School Musical Stick to the Status Quo.  I actually don't think Zac Effron's even IN that scene, but because I took a liking to the catchy-ness of that ditty, and then stumbled upon the brilliance that is Zac Kevin Bacon in Footloosing through the fields courtesy of this comparison video, I allowed myself to watch 17 Again.  And the rest is history.

Important update: there's just one 'F' in Efron.  Thank God I wrote this post.  I'd hate to have Z.E. find out I've been posing as his superfan - unable to even spell his name right.  Lords.

 

 

I keep losing count

but it's 6. 

6 weddings on the books so far for 2014. 

well, 4 techinically.

but a likely 6 ultimately.  once we clear christmas and the couples have had a chance to scope out venues available next fall.

so. 

the season of life is going strong.

in case anyone was worried it was threatening to taper off.

6 weddings, 2 babies, 1 new adventure.

2014...I'm so ready for you

Lovely

Sometimes even when you're just wearing your big puffy black winter coat and gym clothes, if you've just come from getting a manicure and your blonde hair blown out, a very handsome man will walk by you on the Upper West Side and say in his French or Italian accent, "lovely."  And it's so flattering.  And such a nice treat.  And not creepy or smarmy at all.  Just really quite lovely to hear.

Question: why shouldn't you get what you want?   Or at the very least try to?

A twofold twofer

Twofold in that

first: I want to post 5 times this month, so I'm happy to share random musings twice on this merry little late Friday morning since it gets me that much closer to my goal.

second: I have wanted to post this pic for a couple weeks now

and then Tuesday night at the Council for Women of Boston College Lean In inspired Beginning the Journey event there was talk of how women are more likely than men to use both sides of their brain and assess situations from multiple angles than men according to a recent study at U Penn: Male and Female Brains Really Are Built Differently. 

I like to think of myself as a perfect example of anything.  So this'll do.