October is always a hard month for me. I was always a girl that loved Halloween, but 17 years ago, my best friend died on Halloween, two weeks after her 18th birthday. It's made the remaining years tough. So, on Halloween, I always try to find something to celebrate. I make a month out of enjoying the scares, and dressing up.
This year's costume is by far my favorite and one I will probably wear a few more times. As a little girl She-ra was my hero. I faithfully watched her and her horse Spirit take on the bad guys. My soul dies a little bit whenever someone asks me who She-ra is.
When my niece (yes, she's my cousin but I say niece because that's the relationship we have) Danny said I had to dress up to take Lyndsey trick or treating, I was a little unsure of myself. The outfit is a little, revealing and I didn't want the other parents staring at me, judging me.
Half way through it, I looked at these girls who I would defend with my life, realized I never want them to be ashamed to be themselves and said, "Ya know what, at least I have the courage to be a little crazy sometimes." Body shaming, be damned!
I think that defines me some days.
Speaking of the courage to be a little crazy, I've still been hanging out with the brother's friends (I should stop saying my brother's friends, they've become my friends too). They make me laugh hysterically, and teach me to not take myself so seriously. Sometimes though, we get into these deep conversations like "Do you believe in soul mates," or "Do you think it's entirely possible that we're too selfish to love someone 100 percent?"
I don't get deep with many people, but I dig it.
Currently, we're having a debate about whether a dinner I went on last week was a date, or just friends hanging out. Yeah, I'm that dense when it comes to the male intentions. My assumption is that it was friends hanging out, they say no guy is taking a girl to dinner unless it's a date.
I won't mention his name, until I get it figured out, but we went to a dive joint, had burgers and laughed. I think we've talked every day this week, and when he had to cancel a dinner this week, he instead filled my jacket with candy as I took pics of trick or treaters for work.
I couldn't talk him into going to Scarey Carey (local haunted house) with me to take pics, that might be a good thing as the freaky clown had all sorts of fun with me and he assures me that he's a wuss that won't even watch scary movies.
At work we had a little Halloween party. I have missed the comradery of my Lowe's people, but maybe I'm finding a little of it at the paper. It's a process.
I also covered a story, yesterday, about a boy, he's 19, he's terminal and his school held a special graduation ceremony for him. Afterwards I went up to talk to him, we played arm wrestling and when I went to walk away, he kissed my hand and melted my heart.
I wrote his story through tears, but what I took from him was that no matter what life hands you, there is always a reason to be happy. Sometimes simple things are what's important in life. Also, a little kindness is the most memorable thing in the world.
Remember that 92-year-old veteran that told me "dare, dream, do"? This week, I found out he is also the master of cornhole. So basically, I touched the first cornhole boards. Someone asked me how I felt, and I said, "Like I am the chosen one baby!"
I guess that ties into this, because as I wrote his story, I sat and listened to the recording of our interview. When I asked how he met his wife he said "I saw her playing in sixth grade and said, 'that's gonna be my girl' and she has been for 71 years." What do you think it takes to love someone like that?
On a serious note, the publisher stopped by to chat this week and asked me what I feel I need to improve on. I think I've improved somewhat, but AP style still freaks me out and throws me for a loop. Whenever I think I have it figured out, I don't. He says I've got the instinct, but AP style is my new nemesis.
I feel like I can write stories that will make you laugh or cry, but when it comes to obits and blotter, I feel like I'm constantly screwing up. Story of my life, the complicated things I seem to be able to handle, and the simple things I struggle with.
On the kid front, there was an Army recruiter at my house this week. Two of my boys are taking the ASFAB next week. Mom's a little nervous, but they need to leave the nest and pay for college. Especially since now, they're all pushing for me to get a love life. When did my 21-year-old start trying to hand me life advice?
So about that Drowning Pool concert, I had fun and of course worried about Vicki when the strobe lights started. It's that damn nurture thing.
One of the things I told my brother's (and mine, you guys are mine too) friends this week is that, if you put me in a bar, the creepiest guys in the bar will hit on me. Five creeps and one couple (really really was NOT amused at that). Vicki, I love you but laughing at me through that is no help! So guys, here is some advice, don't hit on a girl during a concert. It's loud, I can't hear you anyway, and I paid money to watch the band. Also, if you ask me during a concert what my name is, the answer will be Tiffany.
Next week is election week, so I get to cover my first election stories and then who knows what my week will bring? No matter what my week brings, I'll try to remember, no matter what the heartbreak there is always a reason to smile.
Stay tuned for the next rendition of my crazy life, when maybe I'll figure out if it was a date or dinner, and to see if I ever manage to conquer AP!
