A Best Buddy

The sun was shining magnificently during the Student Activities fair my freshman year of college. I wandered around the lawn, from table to table, club to club, trying to discern how I would spend those four formative years of my life. Although I had an inkling of the organizations I was looking for, I tried to be open-minded to the whole experience. Thankfully, my future found me.

Kate was sitting at the Best Buddies table, smiling ear to ear; her warmth drew me in immediately. She was the Buddy Director for the Georgetown chapter of Best Buddies, an organization that facilitates one-to-one friendships for people with intellectual disabilities.  Kate spoke with unmatched enthusiasm and her spirit was contagious. I signed up for Best Buddies on the spot.

My first year of Best Buddies, I was a general member. The years following, an Activities coordinator, College Buddy Director, and eventually the Chapter President. All the while, Kate was by my side. We planned Best Buddies events, baked our fair share of cookies, and drank more than enough chocolate milk at our favorite coffee shop, Saxby’s. Sleepovers, High School Musical sing-alongs, and chicken finger dates brightened my college experience.  Kate and the greater Best Buddies population restored my faith in people.

My original understanding of volunteerism was all wrong, I came to realize. I had initially thought that we volunteer to give of ourselves, but I was always on the receiving end of the service with Best Buddies. I came away from every encounter a better, more genuine and whole person. To this day, Kate shares with me an incomparable vitality. She lives with purpose, embraces everyone she encounters, and is never without a smile.

Although I graduated from school two years ago and have since moved away from Washington,  Kate and I talk on the phone weekly and write letters to one another. She is extraordinary at keeping in touch. Another testament to how deeply she cares about the people she loves. How abundant her capacity is to make people feel significant and valued.  While schedules prevent us from getting together as frequently as I would like (Kate’s social calendar is and always has been extensive), we are still able to have sleepovers every few months, thankfully. Homemade pizza, Scrabble, pajamas, and movies always make for the perfect girls’ night.

I couldn’t have imagined the world Kate would open for me when I was just a freshman looking to belong.  She gives me a fresh perspective, honest advice, and the very best hugs.  Kate reminds me to take life as it comes and simply do my best. There are never pretenses or motives. Kate is free from these unsavory habits that litter a great part of our society. Some may say that Kate has a disability. To me, she has nothing short of every ability that is truly worthwhile. 

Our Daily Bread

I shared a meal with two dear friends from college this past Sunday. It was the perfect suburban getaway for gals living and working in the Big Apple. We gathered wood from my parents' backyard so we would be able to build a fire later that day. Next stop was Fairway Market for ingredients: a big baguette, three types of cheese (New Zealand Cheddar, Pepper Jack, and Fresh Mozzarella), fresh basil, some cream, chicken, and vegetables for a tossed salad. It took us realistically three to five minutes just to navigate the big basins that comprise the olive section. Angela picked sun dried tomatoes, I grabbed an olive medley, and Mary tracked down half sour pickles to accompany the bread and cheese. Groceries- check. We snuck in some munchkins and coffees for the ever so brief drive home.  I am of the belief that there is always time for a Dunkin run.

After settling in at home, we chopped and chatted. Munched on bread, olive oil, and too much cheese, if there can ever be too much cheese. Next came the main course, creamy pesto over fettuccine with chicken. We never really made a dent in the salad which is to be expected when there is bread and cheese to be had. Olives count as vegetable intake though, right?  All the while, we had refreshing conversation. Scratch that. Let's call it what it was - a frantic vent session. It was also refreshing though,  long overdue, and entirely necessary.

It had been quite a while since we were all together in one place, probably since graduating actually. Granted texting and email allow for people to stay quite connected these days, but still pale in comparison to interaction face-to-face. Actually hearing what it's like to LOL together. We covered a wide variety of topics. Put girls in a room together and this is bound to happen. Guys, parents, jobs, friends, body image, weddings, dreams, fears; you name it and we probably discussed it. The pressure we either self impose or feel from others to succeed, to have everything all at once. Our desperate attempts to prioritize goals all the while trying to remain grounded and calm. How we fall short of the staying calm part. Thus is early adulthood.

It is characteristic of our generation to expect a lot, and quickly. I think Charles wrote "Great Expectations" about us. Sounds about right. By 24, we feel like we should have it all mapped out. The next decade if not more carefully delineated in a step by step list. Who we'll marry and where we will be professionally and geographically. There are external factors at play, too.  Mothers with baby fever asking about grandchildren or at the very least checking in on the latest adventures in finding a mate. Friends walking down the aisle and siblings enrolling in grad school.

While all of our concerns vary slightly, there is a common need for reassurance. A quote or a consoling gesture is often enough to quell anxiety. I discovered I am not the only one who Googles "inspiring quotes" when I feel disconcerted or lost. The right quote can typically calm my nerves for like an hour, or at least distract me enough that I forget what provoked anxiety in the first place. Needless to say I am quite frequently in search of the perfect words of reassurance. Some daily bread for my soul. I have no problem finding and eating actual bread, obviously.

Robert Louis Stevenson was on to something here:

"The best things in life are nearest:  Breath in your nostrils, light in your eyes, flowers at your feet, duties at your hand, the path of right just before you.  Then do not grasp at the stars, but do life's plain, common work as it comes, certain that daily duties and daily bread are the sweetest things in life." 

The girls and I discussed lighter topics once we got through the rough stuff. Football, country music, and the anatomy of the perfect S'more. We grabbed skewers, jumbo marshmallows, Reese's cups as well as Hershey bars, and roasted them as the sun went down. For a moment, we huddled around the fire, forgot about expectations and indulged in the here and now, the path of just right before us.

The Names We Give Ourselves

I gave into the Facebook craze, back when using it was new and pretty necessary.  When you friended people you never even met before going to college, because they were from your state. Or who can forget the time you were friends online with someone but failed to speak to them in real life? Awkward!  Social media underwent some refinement, and more focused forums were born.  I discovered Tweeting and Pinning much later in the game and am still getting acquainted. Personally, I am more fond of Pinterest because it is visually appealing, customizable, and a catalyst for fun projects. Twitter more than fills its niche, though; I just have a problem with brevity perhaps.

Both forums allot the user a limited amount of characters to explain his or herself, like a pitch of sorts. To condense your whole person into a partial paragraph, or a collection of fragments is tricky. Most people want to share as much information as possible, because in essence social media accounts are components of your personal brand. What you post and how you post shape how you're perceived whether you like it or not. And the people/entities you follow comprise the content you are bombarded with day in and out, so choose wisely. Ideally, there will be people that find you just exceptional enough to follow back.

Part of navigating the social media space means wading through users to find what and whom are relevant to your taste. Most intriguing to me is how people describe themselves. A great deal of blurbs I have seen look something like this: I am a motivational speaker, juggler, painter, photographer, dog walker, illusionist, cheese expert, poker player, and firefighter. In my spare time, I catch crocodiles, drink pickle juice, and recite the decimals of pi in reverse.  Ok, not exactly this extreme... but close.

More realistically, people still list off four or five professions in one sentence. And I think, "Wow, what an accomplished human. What have I done!?" But, are we actully all of these things? Likely not, because there are not enough hours in the day to accommodate the exhaustive dedication to each of these fields required to gain proficiency. Unless you have a personal assistant. Then anything is possible, I bet.  

I also ask myself, what are the metrics we use in determining what we are? Is it subjective, based on how we look at ourselves and what traits we most value? For example, if one time I went on a camping trip, have I earned the badge of avid outdoorsman? If one uses Instagram, does that make him or her miraculously a photographer? Or, is it more declarative and indisputable like I am B negative, Diabetic, or Sicilian? You publish a book or get paid to write things; you're a writer. When do we earn the right to say that we are something?

Take this blog for example. I call myself a foodie because I love to eat, not because I know everything there is to know about food or have impeccable taste. The simpler the food the better for me, actually. Good bread and some cheese will suffice. Don't know much about wine. I prefer coffee watered down. Fond of fake sushi (the kind with cooked elements like tempura shrimp). If James takes me to Sonic for a date night, I'm a happy girl. I also just really enjoy the sensory experience of making/eating food. By someone else's assessment, the title may be totally off. Foodie just sounded less gluttonous than eater so I went with it.  

Regardless, we all identify with traits or skills that make us feel worth. If what gives you a feeling of value is also your occupation, then more power to you! Oftentimes home life, hobbies, and volunteer pursuits are where feelings of worth really flourish. Either way, it is clear that people want to contribute, and find their niche. A space all their own in this ellaborate universe.  I for one would like to find the one or two things I can get good enough at to say I am a insert title here. But, there is also something appealing about dabbling. Being well rounded and knowing a little bit about a lot of things. 

In the spirit of social media here are the names I would give myself - Francesca: a contributer, lyric-messer upper, card maker, semi-professional food taster, sticker collector, mystery aficionado, adequate speller, aspiring maker, domestic dabbler, old soul, cookbook hoarder, during-the-movie-question-asker. Most importantly: a grandaughter, daughter, sister, partner, and friend. 

What are yours?   

On Marriage

I am certainly no authority on marriage; nor do I claim to be. But every so often you come across something that makes you stop and consider. This video is one of those things. 

A bit of background: My colleague, Mike, is recently married. He was actually married the week I started working at Look North. What is so special about this coincidence is I am able to celebrate my anniversary of having found a home at work, at the same time he is celebrating milestones as husband to Grace. Mike and I, along with Greg and Joanna ( another married couple I admire and also my colleagues) all love to eat, so we find many things to celebrate over good food. Beyond mealtime conversations between bites of falafel, and the daily web design and development process, we share personal triumphs too. Enter Mike and Grace's wedding trailer, below.

This video was poignant for lots of reasons. Primarily because I am a giant sap, but also because I believe in love. These kinds of messages are far too under publicized.

Marriage is a complicated institution, and is not an end all for happiness; not in the least. But for people who choose to enter into such a union, there are many stressful preparatory elements to consider, one of the most prominent being the wedding itself. There are television series (plural) focused on the monster like behavior some brides adopt during the planning phase. (Or maybe they were monsters to begin with?) Beyond this perversion of personality, there is the material preparation. The ring, the venue, the dress, the menu, the favors, the ceremony. The invitations too. All of these elements sometimes complicate the underlying objective: being married. 

Please don't misunderstand me. Weddings are a significant event, one people likely envision for a long time before/if it happens.  Planning an event, however, probably shouldn't receive more attention than cultivating the life you make with another person, a person you hopefully love. I more than most, love a good piece of cake and dressing up, but I also imagine the craze over the day itself is fleeting. The union entered will carry on far beyond that night, ideally. Depending on the size of your fete, finanical strain may last quite a while too! Side note: Invitations and confections are critical to any event, regardless. If you have need of these things, check out my uber talented cousin Angela.

Marriage shouldn't be a last resort, or an obligation. It shouldn't be a party and a honeymoon. Nor a construct of culture we have to conform to. It is not to be measured in the price tag of a gown, tally of utensils on the table, price per head, or number of karats.  It should simply be a choice. A choice to love another person enough to confront this complicated world by their side, for better or worse. To be faithful. To think of him or her, before yourself...

But what do I know!? If you want to learn a thing or two about marriage, ask my Nana. She and Papa will be married 59 years, this November. He bought her an iPad; bless them.

Everyone smiles

In metropolitan regions, people walking quickly, with either their head down or their eyes fixed on a mobile device is a prevalent behavior. Nose in a Kindle, ear buds plugged in, and a suspended awareness of the world around us is all too common. As much as I like to think otherwise, I do most of these things, quote often and sometimes simultaneously.

There seems to be a stigma around smiling at strangers. People walking towards one another in a hallway or on a narrow sidewalk rather risk face planting while appearing occupied than just well, looking at a person, acknowledging their presence, and perhaps even smiling at them. The fear of being rejected is probably an underlying cause of this. No one wants to be the smiler who gets ignored, or worse receive that look where it appears the other person has something foul smelling right below their nostrils. You know that look. Think back to junior high school if you have trouble visualizing it. Every so often though, people do smile... sometimes at each other even. But you have to put your iPad aside to notice it. 

When I am not scrolling through Instagram or texting while I walk, I notice subtle things around me, sweet things. (For the purpose of keeping this an optimistic dialogue, we will disregard the encounters that leave us utterly pissed off and wanting so deeply to scream some choice four letter words.) Of these rewarding subtleties, not all even pertain to me. Observing people and their behavior is one of my indulgences. Think of it as the more refined older sister to people watching. People watching with meaning.  

A perk of my job is on some Fridays I get to take this little lady for a walk. She rushes for no one, bless her.

When the phone is away with eyes and ears open, the wall that technology sometimes erects comes down; people see other people. And they smile. They smile with their mouths, just their eyes or both. Everyone smiles when you are walking a waddling chocolate lab, who has a mind of her own and stops in the middle of the road to take a breather. Everyone smiles when an elderly couple is holding hands, strolling ever so slowly as if there was nowhere in the world they rather be. 

When a small child reaches for their mother or father. When a doting parent scoops up their little one, and holds them tightly. Everyone smiles when babies chuckle and toddlers say frighteningly honest things. When you trip up the steps, steady yourself, and then look around frantically to see if anyone else has noticed.

Everyone smiles when holding an ice cream cone or a cupcake.  When little boy scouts stand in a line wearing their equally little uniforms outside of a grocery store. When tired grandparents chase after their grand children, but beam no less despite their noticeable fatigue. Everyone smiles when a frazzled father comes out of the bathroom, with a disheveled child toting toilet paper under his shoes. When a couple has that look of love in their eyes.

Smiles can be the sad kind too. When the things we observe evoke memories of a more pleasant time in the past or a yearning for love and understanding. Nonetheless, we keep smiling,  because if something at one time made you happy, it is never really gone. That, and we can always hope for a better tomorrow.

Note to self: I quite like the things noticed when I pay attention, so I will have to pay attention more.