Hickory Smoked Turkey

If you were to ask my husband or family, they would tell you that I have a flair for the dramatics.  Life is too beautiful, too painful, too much for me at times.  And, while I love that I can appreciate the moments in life so deeply, I also kind of hate it.  The confusing part is that even though I feel I am in touch with how I feel about change, I don't allow myself to express it.  Instead, I get nauseous, lose sleep, take multiple naps in a day, and watch a lot of Netflix.  At least I can now acknowledge my coping skills, right? In 16 days, my new hubby and I will pack up our Pittsburgh apartment and move to NC so that H can attend acupuncture school.  When I moved back to Pittsburgh in 2010, I really thought I had landed in the city where I would always live.  But, life had other plans when I met and fell in love with H.  The South is now calling my name, ever reluctanctly and quietly. We have known for a year that we would be moving to NC...

I've been a detached human lately.  When life gets stressful and there are millions of unknown details up in the air, I tend to shut down and watch bad television.  When I lived alone this technique worked for me.  I could shut out the world, eat a bag of potato chips and watch endless reruns of good NBC comedies.  But, when you live with someone, you can't shut down and not talk about future plans.  You need to talk things through and strategize.  I am not the best at this. To paint a picture, I am writing this morning before work, drinking coffee that H made and eating a piece of old birthday cake.  We are moving in 2 months, I need to work on job applications, tie up some ends for our wedding next month, and I need to find available apartments in NC to look at for our trip down later this week.  I am freaking out, but, I can't even put into words the emotions swirling in my head and heart right now.  I've always been an emotional person,...

I'm a person who likes to dream.  I usually dream of owning a small bar with my sister and living in Northern Michigan in a log cabin, possibly on a cherry farm.  But, as a writer, when it comes to entering writing contests, I freeze up and talk myself out of it.  I convince myself that it would be a waste of $20 to enter the contest because I clearly won't win.  This type of thinking has never helped me in the past and I always tell my students NOT to think this way.  So, when I recently read an article about a woman who is giving her Maine inn away for $125 and a winning essay, I froze with excitement and negative talk.  However, at this point, I'm tired of the defeatist talk.  I may not have a good chance of winning the contest/inn, but shouldn't I try?  Because, how amazing would it be if I actually won?!?!?! So, this weekend I will begin working on the "inn essay" and I will let myself really dream.  If you'd like to donate a fe...

Today, while curled up in an afghan my mom made me, I looked at a photo of toast that my dad sent me.  It seems like an odd combination but that afghan and picture of toast reminded me that I need to slow down. I have a lot going on in my life right now.  And, while I tend to thrive creatively in chaos, I am feeling unnerved.  In the next 5 months I will move to a new state, leave behind a city full of friends that I adore, get a new job, get married, find a place to live, and somehow find a new writing community in a place totally foreign to me.  Besides getting married, I am scared and freaking out.  I am excited for all that is on the horizon but it seems completely overwhelming. So, when I turned to my dad's photo and my mom's afghan it struck me that what matters most are the tiny moments throughout a day that make up a life.  Yes, we have a lot to plan for, but you can only plan so much for the future.  What happens now i...

If you were to ask either of my parents if I developed my love for writing from them, I imagine both of them would say no.  In the past few years, my parents have come to mean something different to me, figures that I rely on more than I thought I would at the age of thirty-five.  After I made it through the years of adolescent angst and drama, I came out seeing my parents in a clearer light.  And, after I went through a tough break-up and moved away, I realized how lucky I am to have the parents I have. There has always been a joke between me and my siblings that our family is straight-up wacky.  From post-it notes of frustration that my parents leave each other on the cupboards to the predictable bickering that ensues every holiday, we shake our heads and sigh.  It's true that sometimes it can be stressful watching your parents argue over small things over the years, but I've also learned how to look at that stress with a comedic eye.  My parents have b...