The Sad Truth

The sad truth is that real life is more horrifying than anything that can be dreamed up in the movies. As a news reporter I lived a life that brought me way to close for comfort to brutal crime scenes, grieving families, the inside of jail cells and cold, hard, truth. There's nothing like the feeling of standing feet from a body covered by a tarp. There is nothing like the self-loathing you feel when a family who has just lost a loved one screams at you to get the camera out of their faces. It was unbearable at times. And yet, it was my job. And it was one that I was passionate about. The fact is, if it wasn't me, it would be someone else. Where there is news, there are cameras, microphones and reporters on a mission.
Perhaps, one of my most profound moments in my brief career as a news reporter, came in the driveway of the home of a family whose 14 year old daughter had been murdered by a neighbor. We had gone to the arraigment of the boy, who was also a teenager. Then, as scheduled, we went to the home to meet with the young victim's dad. I can't even describe the feeling I had in my stomach. The dad had agreed to meet with me, and yet, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being horribly invasive and disrespectful. As a reporter, you are not supposed to show emotion, but it was all I could do to not cry along with him. He asked not to be filmed, so my photographer recorded photos of his beautiful daughter instead. I sat with him for probably about 40 minutes, the whole time my stomach was clenched in a knot. The victim's mother was in the kitchen with her sister, still so grief stricken that she could not speak. Her father told us what an amazing person she was. Her likes and dislikes, her plans for the future. Then he told us about that horrible day. I can hear the details like it was yesterday. We brought the interview to an end, and we quietly packed up our gear and left. I sat in the passenger seat of the news car and took a deep breath, trying to ease the knot I felt, all the while fighting back tears. My photographer, who had been in the industry for over 20 years, put his hand on my shoulder and said, "Are you okay?". I turned and asked, "Does it ever get easier?". He looked at me, shook his head and said, "I hope not." That was it. So simple, yet so profound. Because the fact is, over time, you do become numb. You find yourself standing at the scene of a house fire where a victim is missing, joking around with the other members of the media. Not because you're trying to be rude, or not realizing the impact of the situation, but because you've seen it before. And because if every time you responded to a scene, you allowed yourself to feel the truth of what is really happening, you couldn't possibly survive day after day of it. I survived almost two years. Long enough to see the young girl's killer plead guilty and be sentenced. I felt protective of that case and would never let another reporter in my station cover it. I felt that the best thing I could possibly do, in the position I was in, was to let the world know what a beautiful and bright life was lost. I hope I did that.
The reason this is all in the forefront of my mind is because of the brutal crime scene in Milton, Massachusetts today. I saw the coverage and have read the articles. I know one of my friends who is a photographer for a local station was there, camera rolling, when the parents came home and found out that three of their children were dead. I felt the knot in my stomach again, watching the footage of the mother fall to the ground screaming. And I felt so glad that it wasn't me standing there, microphone in hand, capturing that moment. It's all just too real.

No Patience

I have no patience today. It's been building for several days now. I am feeling so aggravated by the personality quirks of the people I work most closely with. As my blog indicates, my feelings towards them ebb and flow. They really are fun people and I enjoy them, for the most part. But the things that bother me about them, really, really bother me.
I don't understand how people can spend so much time and energy being vengeful and superficial. I find it truly draining and exhausting.
I know that i'm spreading myself too thin, right now. Between work, the wedding and the gym, I am so exhausted when I have down time, that I don't have the energy to take care of the little things that need to be done - cleaning my house, taking care of bills, etc. etc. I keep telling myself that there's a light at the end of the tunnel. I'm not sure where the tunnel ends, but i'm sure, wherever it does, there is a light!
What I need is to just have some me-time. Thank God, it's Friday! I have nothing that I have to do this weekend. I am going to be a little selfish, rest, spend time getting things done, and hope to have a fresh approach when i return here Monday morning.

Dreams

Wedding day is rapidly approaching! 93 days - 3 months from tomorrow! I am so excited/overwhelmed, and all of those emotions are translating into some interesting dreams. Most nights the wedding finds its way into my subconcience while I sleep. often the dreams are repetitive, like the (horrible) movie Groundhog Day. Whatever the crisis is in my dream, it repeats itself over and over in a different setting each time. The issues that come up are, in reality, trivial, and in some cases preventable, but in the world of dreamland, they are huge and overwhelming and very frustrating. Some of these dreams are more memorable than others. For example: Last week I dreamt over and over about it being time for me to walk down the aisle, and not being dressed or having my hair or make up done. It was in a different setting each time, and I cannot even say for sure, who was in the dreams with me, except that for some reason, there was a news crew with me. I'm not sure what that represented. Anyways, it was a pretty frantic dream, but simply solidified my need to have a schedule of sorts to follow on the big day.
Another dream I had - possibly even in that same night (they are running together in my head), was that I was up at the pulpit (which is odd, because i'm not getting married in a church) and there were several children on the "groom's side" in the congregation and they were talking and crying and making all sorts of noise. Now, anyone who knows me well, knows that this is a major pet peeve of mine, and something i've been really concerned about for my ceremony. Therefore we are not allowing children to come to the wedding (it is, afterall, an evening event). In my dream I was furious, and stopped the ceremony to address the situation.. clearly, that's been on my mind. Hopefully guests will respect our wishes to keep this an adult-only event.
The latest dream was the other night. This one also had me in my church. I was standing in the foyer and it was pouring outside. Then the next minute it was bright and sunny and totally dry, then a minute later it was back to pouring, and on and on.. Somehow I had gotten stuck in the rain and my hair was a stringy, wavy mess. I kept trying to fix it and put my veil on but it wouldn't fix and my veil wouldn't stay on... It's all very odd.
Anyways, I guess the dreams are just a sign that the wedding is always in the forefront in my thoughts. I can probably count on three more months of these dreams.
What's been particularly entertaining are the stories I've heard from other brides-to-be and friends who are married. Clearly, wedding nightmares are just part of the planning process. I wonder why there isn't a chapter on it in my planning books!!

Feeling Better

Last week was tough. In case that wasn't clear in my previous post. I was stressed, work was full of drama and I had PMS. Not a good combination. This week, i'm better! Thank God. Let's face face it, when you feel that angry and frustrated and emotional, there's no way NOT to bring that home with you, no matter how hard you try to seperate the lives.
Anyways, I have been sticking to my goal of going to the gym and eating better. I still cheat on the weekends, and I haven't seen the numbers move on the scale much, if at all. But I had a moment of triumph yesterday.
I'd decided not to go to my regularly scheduled Zumba class (new instructor, long story). But instead of giving in to the excuses and laziness, I coaxed my colleague and she agreed that we'd go and work out on our own. So we did. Seems like a pretty silly thing to be proud of, but I really am proud of us and myself, because it would have been much easier to go home, sit on the couch, and do nothing. But instead, I went to the gym. I wanted to do my usual 20 minutes on the elliptical, but I pushed for 30. When I got to thirty (350 calories burned), i felt energized and ready to keep going! So I hopped on a treadmill next to my colleague, and did a brisk walk for about 20 minutes. THEN I RAN!!! (Are you picturing Forrest Gump?) I was just going to try to run for a minute or so straight, which has always been a challenge to me because a, I have asthma and b, I am really out of shape. But I ran a minute, and kept going and going, I realized that I was close to the 5 minute mark and set my mind on reaching it, and i did!! Again, I recognize that this sounds like a laughable accomplishment, but trust me, it never would have happened before that I could run for 5 minutes straight without having a heart attack and dropping dead on the spot (or at least wheeze uncontrollably for a good 15 minutes afterwards). But none of that happened! I felt great! I felt energized! I felt like I was doing something so right for my body!
I am trying on my wedding gown this weekend, and I am intrigued to see if these past several weeks of working out frequently has made a difference in the fit. We shall see...
Either way, I am quite proud of myself for kicking the little devil off my shoulder and convincing myself to do something that's so good for me, physically and mentally. I have every intention of keeping it up!
I am grateful today for boosts like that one. Little triumphs, little victories. They keep things going in the right direction. The task for me is to grasp on to those moments and utilize them to carry me through the tougher times. It's a good lesson learned.

Frustrated

Work is work and life is life. Leave your work shit at work and deal with your home shit at home. That's how it should be. But at my job, that's not the case. It's a long, drawn out story, but the bottom line is that my work-life bares a striking resemblance to a tweenaged melodrama, and I am so, completely over it. I am angry with my supervisor for making our environment here so stressful, uncomfortable and dramatic, and I am even more angry at myself for letting it effect me so much. I want to come to work, do my thing and go home. period. I don't want to have to go into her office once a week so that she can ask me my opinion on why team morale is so low. I shouldn't be put in the position of having to tell her that she is the reason. She is the core of the problems and her shit has rippled its way through each of the rest of our lives.
Normally I am really good at just keeping my head down and doing my work. But for some reason, her behavior recently has become so toxic that I find it impossible to block. It's so unfair.
If I worked in a normal company, bullshit like hers would not be tolerated. But I don't work in a normal company, and upper-management, while well aware of her quirks and tendencies, thinks its amusing. They don't seem to realize the effect she's having on the productivity and general happiness of the team.
This entry is actually a good example of the effect she has on me. I had every intention of writing as a therapy. I was hoping to coax myself into feeling clear of her negativity, but the fact is that i'm all-consumed at the moment. And I hate her for it...

No More Excuses

As I've stated before. I am a master procrastinator. I can come up with an excuse not to do absolutely anything. If it sounds like I am boasting, I assure you, I am not. My constant avoidance of things is something I rather despise about myself. But today I am steadying myself, standing up to that inner fat kid, breaking the cycle, and joining a gym.
I am hoping that having one of my best friends be a member as well will help to motivate me. It's rather pathetic that I need someone to motivate me. I'm getting married, and getting ready to consider getting pregnant. Were there ever any better reasons to want to look and be my healthiest? But the sad truth is, I know myself better than that. I will tell myself that it's too difficult/cold/dark/early to go in the morning before work. The devil on my shoulder will whisper in my ear that I walked at a brisk pace the 1/3 mile from the boat and therefore don't need anymore cardio for the day. I will give in to the tired person who just wants to go home and lie on the couch with my hubby to be after a long day. I will use the fact that I got a great monthly rate to ease any pangs of guilt for wasting money. But the fact is, come four months from now, if I don't feel amazing in my wedding gown, I will have no one to blame but myself. That is what I have to keep reminding myself. It won't always be fun. It will never be convenient or easy. But if I can walk down that aisle feeling like a million bucks, knowing I worked my ass off to make it happen, I know it will have been worth it.
So my challenge to myself begins today. No more excuses.

Idiosyncrasies of a Bride-To-Be

Here we are - 152 days from my wedding day. The day i've dreamed about my whole life. And I am so excited. I know there is a lot left to do, but I feel pretty confident that it will all get done. My wedding stress does not come from the usual fears. No, no, no. My fears are more dramatic. In fact, several of them are so completely outlandish that even I have to laugh at them. Yet, even though I can laugh at them, there is still that pit in my stomach that says, well, what if...

What if:

• I break a bone (any bone) leading up to the wedding, and have to wear a cast with my wedding gown!? Mind you, I have never broken a bone in my life (knocking on wood, knocking on wood). Where did this fear come from? No idea...
• I fall while walking down the aisle. Particularly, while walking down the stone steps into the garden. How embarrassing would that be??! I suppose though that my dad will have a fairly firm grip on me. I hope.
• We can't hear the string trio begin to play Pachelbel Canon in D? I'd miss the cue for my entrance. Poor hubby to be will be struck with a momentary fear that I'm standing him up!! (even though the whole bridal party will have walked down the aisle already.)
• People show up that weren't invited or expected. This is a legitimate fear. I think. We have decided not to allow single people to bring guests. It's just too much to pay for people we've never met. Not to mention, I'm not really thrilled with the idea of having a bunch of people i've never met at my wedding.
• Guests think my dress is awful? I don't know how to elaborate on that one...

Okay, my mind is racing now, maybe allowing myself to dwell on these fears and write about them wasn't the best idea.

One thing I can say for certain is that I have strategically planned to surround myself with people who know my idiosynrasies. Hopefully, they find my quirkiness lovable. I mean, they've put up with me for this long!