2.

2. My Senior Prom: I didn't have a date to my high school prom. I wasn't a freak, but I was a wallflower. I was the shy smart girl no one noticed. Or, because I was shy and smart, people who didn't know me assumed I was snobby and full of myself (which was true to some extent, but stemmed from some deeper rooted self-esteem issues). But before we get too far into psychoanalyzing my high school self, to sum up: no date.

Through some miracle of fate, the son of one of my mother's long time friends - whom I'd never met - agreed to escort me to my prom. As many of you know, the story was actually even more extreme because in fact, he was Canadian and had to fly in to CT and spend the weekend with me and my family. He was an adventurous soul.

What ensued was the best weekend of my life to date. We hit it off immediately and had a ton of fun the whole time. My friends were jealous and we were the stars of the ball - at least in my circle. That weekend was the first time I enjoyed a mutual attraction to a boy. The highlight of the weekend was a make out session on the couch and dancing in my living room with no music on long after my parents had gone to bed. The next day I drove him to the airport to catch his flight home to Vancouver. As you might expect, I was mess and yet I felt more alive than I ever had before.

1.

1. Habitat for Humanity: To be honest, by the time I was giving my confirmation class presentation, I had already participated in my first of four annual trips working for Habitat. But only with a little distance can I realize that they were the first nudge on my journey of self-discovery. Habitat was the first time I ever went into something flat-out dreading it only to come out the other side absolutely ecstatic.

I hated the thought of being sweaty and gross. I hated the thought of sleeping on an air mattress in a school cafeteria for a week. I didn't like the other youth group participants - or to be more accurate, I believed they didn't like me. The trip was something of an eye-opener. The hard work and strenuous conditions bonded our team together; for the first time I was a part of something. Only later can I see these trips for how they really influenced me. They showed me not only that first impressions of people and preconceived ideas about a project are often misguided, but I discovered that I was stronger than I believed.

Defining Moments

When I was 15 everyone in my church confirmation class was asked to give a presentation about their defining life experiences. I struggled with this concept. I was able to talk about being a flute player and a vegetarian (at the time), how I enjoyed my time at our lake house in Maine and studying French, but these were not defining experiences. They just were. These aspects of myself were hardly due to any life-changing event. At that point, I had yet to be shaped by the key influential experiences that awaited me.

Almost 10 years later (crazy!), I can now reflect on what I know were the events that brought to existence who I am today. I've pinpointed four. Stay tuned - I'll be posting them over the next week in chronological order.

Out like a lamb. Not so much.

What is it about a late March snow storm that has such an impact on one's outlook for the day? Well, really that's not a hard question. The first teasings of spring have gotten your hopes up. Perhaps you've enjoyed a couple warm sunny days; a picnic in the park, noticed the first leaf buds on the lilac bushes outside your apartment. Humans are hopeful creatures at heart. We are naturally inclined to believe that once things start looking up, they will only get better.

No, on second thought, that is far too broad a generalization. Optimists are far more likely to have such an outlook. I guess pessimists save themselves a fair bit of disappointment by not leaping to conclusions that the world is bound to pick itself up off its feet any day now. When a pessimist wakes up to a snowy morning on March 26th after a beautiful day in the 60's, does this really have any impact on her mood or perspective on life in general? I would suppose not. I presume the thought process on looking out the window would go something like this, "Ah, well. It figures."

For me, firmly couched on the optimistic side of the fence, finding a morning full of windy wet snow is more like, "Dammit, dammit!" But then I remember that it's Friday, and things are looking up again.

Couldn't help myself from these music splurges...

I've been listening to some new music lately, found through Pandora or noted on friends' facebook profiles (please give me credit for refraining from wondering aloud about how on earth previous generations managed to discover music trends before the internet age). I've been particularly taken with Eric Hutchinson, Mat Kearney and Mumford & Sons.

Eric Hutchinson is a singer-songwriter with who combines rhythmic wordplay reminiscent of an early Jason Mraz with catchy choruses that remind me of Train's Hey Soul Sister. Rock & Roll is probably his best known single, but I'm a bigger fan of Oh! and especially Ok, It's Alright with Me.

Mumford & Sons just sprang up recently on a friend's facebook page with a link to the youtube video of their single Little Lion Man. I paid no attention. Yesterday I was glancing through another friend's sister's blog (yes I get bored at work) and she also mentioned Mumford & Sons. Twice in a week this band I've never heard of finds a way to appear in my life. The universe must be trying to tell me something. Wow. Very cool stuff. A British foursome comprised of a guitarist, keyboardist, double bassist and banjoist (banjoist?). They perform compelling yet honest ballads that lift the spirit and make you want to hop a tour bus to travel the countryside with them.

And Mat Kearney. My favorite of the three. Go buy his album City of Black and White. Really. I haven't felt this way about an album since John Mayer's Room for Squares. For those of you who don't know, John Mayer was the first concert I ever attended. At the age of 16 I was a bit obsessed. And now I remember what that feels like. I get home from work, and the first thing I do is put on City of Black and White. I feel engulfed when I listen to it. Like Coldplay's Viva la Vida or U2's Sunday Bloody Sunday (ok not the lyrics, but the feeling of the song) every song on this album has that gripping, larger than life feel.

So. I have never written about music before. But I've been listening to these artists all week and they inspire me. They make me long to create. Create what? I'm not quite sure yet, so I figured the first place to start was at the source. Many poets write odes to their muses; this isn't exactly analogous, but perhaps it's a jumping off point.

If anyone is familiar with these artists, let me know what your take is!

the trip back

I remember clearly how it felt, sitting next to you on the bus down from Whistler in the middle of the night. We sat in the front two seats - not the ones tucked safely behind the driver, but the ones with the panoramic, unobstructed view of the road winding through the dark. The steep cliff to the water to our right was obscured in darkness, for better or worse. I had to close my eyes so I couldn't watch the bends in the road approach at what felt like too fast a speed.

But with my eyes closed, visions of a horrific accident were replaced by the thought of having to leave you again soon. I curled up closer to you and you took my hand, massaging my palm, then each finger in turn. With a few deep breaths I relaxed into the warm, melancholy contentment that swept over me. For the moment I was still with you. I fell asleep with my head on your shoulder only to wake when we arrived.