It's warm weather, sundress time. Finally.

--insert apostrophe in you'll--

Oh, my little Kelly monster.

I miss my old life so much it hurts sometimes. Moving forward, I'm finding, can be a long, arduous road. I don't feel here or there, at the moment. I'm just in between, stuck in neutral, waiting for the next wave to push me along.

And if the plane lifts off,
I'll write you a letter, to say goodbye.
And I will make it long, and maybe lie just a little,
Tell you that I'm doing fine.

Then I'll send it out, and let things be.
If not for you,
For me, and for the time I've spent foolishly loving thee.

..but I should probably say that I'm unsure why I'm running,
Running away from the only thing I want.
Yeah, I should probably say that I'm unsure why I'm running,
Running away from the one I love.

--Greg Laswell

We live in a beautiful world.

tid bits

1. A few years back, I saw a homeless man in NYC who was holding a sign that said 'need money for beer', so I gave him a dollar.
2. I have a fairly positive outlook on life, most of the time. Though I have my days, I am only human..
3. In a mere 21 years, I've lived in 27 houses, in 9 states, and on 1 island.
4. I'm meeting with a transplant team in March to get the ball rolling on a double lung transplant, though I have no idea if it's really what I want.
5. My parents raised me on a vegetarian diet, and I've no complaints.
6. I've never felt settled in a place, nor do I really feel at home anywhere, yet.
7. I love to love, whether it be another person, or life, or an experience.
8. I enjoy going to museums. And planetariums.
9. I've always been on the quieter side of the spectrum, though I too have a spunky side ; )
10. There's a special place in my heart for spontaneity. How boring and monotonous life would be without it.
11. I'm terrified and fascinated by the ocean. It's so huge and unfathomable. Sometimes, when I'm feeling overwhelmed, it helps me put things into perspective.
12. I have a fear of fish, though I've no idea where it generated from. That said, I enjoy fishing...?
13. I'd like to spend an entire day eating croissants and drinking champagne.
14. I'd like to travel the globe, on a whim. Just me and a backpack and a comfy pair of shoes. And maybe a travel buddy. : )
15. Sometimes I have to write out my thoughts just to figure out what's going on in my own head. It helps me sort through the jumble.
16. I love to dance. Or move. Or just shimmy around. But there's something to be said about just being s t i l l.
17. I enjoy getting lost in a good book, though I'm always a bit disappointed when I reach the end.
18. Some days I'd rather sit back and listen to my friends than participate in their conversations. They're fascinating people.
19. I went through a fairly reckless stage, and while I wouldn't do it again, I think it helped me get my head on a bit straighter.
20. I feel I'm at my most vulnerable when I'm in the hospital, both physically and mentally.
21. That said, I wouldn't change having a chronic illness. I would just advance science 50 years and cross my fingers for a cure. ; )
22. I enjoy getting lost in nature. Some days all I need is a good adventure in the woods.
23. Now that I'm back in the northeast, I appreciate the slower pace of the south. And the sweet tea..
24. This year, I'd like to work on my hula hooping skills. I suppose that's my tentative, belated new year's resolution.
25. I'd like to think that I won't do this again for awhile, it's unnecessary spending this much time thinking about myself. I'm not even all that interesting. : )

Today, I reached out to an old friend.
I realize that it's only natural that people part ways as their lives change, but the imprint certain folks have made on my life hasn't faded. And sometimes it's nice to reconnect. Andy and Cheyenne, two peas in a pod, circa 2007.

a subtle reminder

Today as I sat in my literature class, my mind drifting to talk of transplants, and immunosuppressant drugs, and the potential of a moon face (my ego is a stickler for vanity), as all of this was weighing heavily on me, an odd topic of conversation came up. Reading 'The Death of Ivan Ilyich' by Tolstoy, we were given the notion that life can't sufficiently be understood/appreciated without also the knowledge of death. For Ivan Ilyich, it takes a terminal illness for him to begin a spiritual awakening. As one critic called it 'the double story of the decomposing body and the awakening soul.'

I've forgotten, lately, the potential in having a chronic illness, my own version of a 'floating kidney', if you will. I'm hardly vain enough to flatter myself by saying I've experienced a spiritual awakening from my trials and tribulations with cystic fibrosis, but I've certainly had an alternative perspective on life, versus one who was born healthy as a horse. (Are horses inherently healthy? Never understood that comparison..) I've been so wrapped up in the overwhelming prospect of a complete double lung transplant, and the idea of failed organs, that I've become no better than Mr. Ilyich- it's all my mind focuses on. If nothing else, I'm realizing that the negative state I've been keeping myself in is only detrimental to my own self, and it's not conducive to a healthy/happy existence.

So thank you, Tolstoy, for waking me up from my own internal stupor. It was long overdue.

My dog provides subtle daily reminders that winter is near its close. Little strands of grass, caught in her teeth, hang from her mouth, and certain mud-covered labrador paw prints have a tendency to trail their way through the house to 'her' couch, a resting spot of choice after a long, hard day of rolling in the dirt. It's been a long winter, and the girl and I agree, spring is more than welcome.