WHY NOT SMILE

I noticed when I posted my most recent blog that it was my 99th contribution. That would make this effort #100. Thought briefly about baking a cake and throwing a little party but decided a more appropriate celebration would be in order. So, I've spent the last couple of days re-reading some of what I've written over the past 8 or so months.

Well. Interesting?

"Interesting" is my all time favorite word. It can be used in so many situations and can encompass endless feelings or meanings. Sometimes I'll follow-up my use of the word with a clarification. For example: That's very interesting. And by interesting I, of course, mean incredibly disturbing. But, more likely than not I'll just let the word lie. Interpretation left up to the recipient. This admission probably provides some kind of deep insight into my soul for those inclined to look.

This is what I've learned: I am obsessed with my coffee maker. I frequently search for the meaning of life in the names of OPI nail colors. Mansfield made me mad. I love my family and friends. I am self-indulgent. I have been recently possessed by M. Stipe as evidenced by my REM-influenced blog titles this month. Well, ok. Just kidding. That was intentional. I'm growing up. I'm getting old. And I think I may be just a little masochistic. Otherwise, why in the hell would I have ever shared the whole "biscuit head" thing?

Interesting.

COUNTRY FEEDBACK

A belated pictoral survey of my recent trip to Ireland. Above: me and Gigi under the sweet influence of Guinness:)

Day 1: the Cliffs of Moher in Co Claire

Day 2: Torc Waterfall in Killarney National Park, Co Kerry

Day3: Healy Pass on the Beara Peninsula (Kerry/Cork)



Day4: carver at Waterford Crystal Factory in Co Waterford

Day 5: early morning in Co Wicklow

MAN ON THE MOON

Yet another quietly spent morning, the kind of peace I only previously was able to claim for myself on a stolen weekend. But it's Friday and just another day in the long chain I've been blessed with since I quit my job. I know that work is in my near future but am content for now to enjoy this freedom. Trying to see, and take, pleasure in the small things. A cup of coffee that I'm allowed to linger over. The opportunity to re-read a favorite book. Engaging in what the charming people of Ireland refer to as a "lie-in." Days spent in my flannel pjs doing all of the above!

Wednesday night I tried without large success to see the lunar eclipse. I did get to see a portion of it early on during the cycle. But then the cloudy skies over the DFW area thwarted additional efforts and I finished the evening disappointed. It was the kind of February evening in Texas that teased you into thinking spring had arrived. Perfect if not for those stupid, stupid clouds! I spoke with my parents while sky-gazing and discovered that they had a clear view of the event in MO. Not a cloud in sight. Of course, their compromise was watching the eclipse in below freezing weather:)

I'm sure there is a very reasonable and scientific reason for this paradox. Something about warm air currents from the gulf or a similar weather-related phenomenon that would do nothing to alleviate my disappointment in our cloud-covered fate. But, I couldn't help but to laugh a little at the pictures in my head. Me, in jeans and t-shirt sitting unsatisfied under the Texas sky. And my parents with coats and hats on over their pajamas, wondering if the red disc seen from our front porch in Missouri was worth the risk of frostbite. Further evidence to me that we are so not in charge . . . :)

AT MY MOST BEAUTIFUL

Day 5 - family connections

My great great grandfather (William) was born in County Wicklow in 1847 to John and Sarah Burns. I know very little more than that. We don't know exactly where in the county the Burns' lived. And Grandpa William didn't even grow up in Ireland - he and his family emigrated to Nova Scotia when he was a toddler. 10 years after that they moved to Michigan (where William was classmates with a boy named Thomas Edison!) before settling in Missouri. Since then, the great majority of my family's history occured within a small area in the Show Me state. So, why I would feel any real connection to Wicklow is beyond me. But, a connection is without a doubt what I felt.

We woke on our last full day in Ireland in a B&B near Glendalough, Co Wicklow. We got an early start so as to maximize our time after feasting on a breakfast that showcased some truly spectacular eggs. Seriously, those eggs were hands down my favorite culinary experience in Ireland:) The air was cold and frost covered the ground everywhere you looked. The everpresent Irish morning fog had yet to clear and I just didn't care. It was still breathtakingly beautiful.

The Wicklow Mountains are certainly small by most standards. The highest range - Lugnaquilla - is only a little over 3000 feet. But it's rumored that on a clear day you can gaze across the Irish Sea from the mountain's peaks and see Snowdonia in Wales. A clear day is rare in Ireland and it wasn't available to us during our exploration:) Regardless, the sights we did see were worth the trip. Even when we drove into one of many valleys the view was incredible. Green hills despite the winter season, picture perfect farms and villages. Postcard images that inexplicably filled me with a proud warmth that proved very successful at chasing away the cold.

I suppose you can equate an Irish county to a US state. Not size-equivalent by any means but a similar division. So although I don't have many specifics about where my Irish family is from, Co Wicklow felt a little like home. Just like the happy feeling I get these days over anything Missouri, I left Ireland flaunting a little Wicklow county pride:)

ELECTROLITE

Day 4 - Crystal Clear

I've seen glass blowing exhibitions before. I'm always impressed with the patience and steady hands the artists' possess. I've even thought once or twice about taking a class and making myself a super simple paper weight of some kind. So, although it was my idea to visit the Waterford Crystal Factory in Co Waterford, I wasn't really expecting to see something new. I thought, perhaps, just something on a larger and grander scale. I was wrong.

Oh, it was larger and grander to be sure. But, it was also so much more.

I'm not sure I've ever truly understood what a craftsman is. But I think I saw them this day in Ireland. There was concentration. There was sweat. There was repetition. And there was this amazing and palpable sense of teamwork. We saw glassblowers. We watched the carvers. It was all deliberate and methodical. There wasn't a feeling of artistry here at all. I honestly think these men would have been embarrassed if you tried to label them artisits. They were just making the product they had been trained to create, a group of men who had perfected their craft.

And then we entered the section of the factory dedicated to engravery and sculpting. And here, here we found the artists and their art. The incredible things these people (because here, finally, we found a female!) could do with glass! Mostly they worked on commissioned trophies and the like. But they also had a small exhibit of current or recently completed projects. There was a moving 9/11 tribute that made me want to cry right there in the middle of our tour.

When we were finished with the factory and left to peruse the gift shop, I was able to look on products available for sale with a new level of appreciation. Suddenly it seemed to me that the prices I had previously considered ridiculously high were now almost guilty of gross underestimation. I had originally thought to buy a present for myself to remind me of this trip to Ireland. Then I overheard this American family from the East coast somewhere talking about all the Waterford they were shipping home. Something about the conversation reminded me of a shopping expedition to an outlet mall back in the states. Prices were apparently less there in Waterford City than they would have been elsewhere.

I didn't want to cheapen what I'd seen, what I'd learned. And so I came home without any actual crystal but with plenty to remind me of Ireland and its people.

LOSING MY RELIGION

Day 3 - a different way

Gigi and I had spoken briefly a few days prior to this Sunday morning about attending a local mass. We both found the idea appealing, although likely for different reasons. Then we just didn't do anything about it. We went about our trip without granting any kind of special importance to the fact that Sunday was approaching. It was just another day of our vacation, a day to be enjoyed with yet more exploration and excitement. And that's ok. That's really how we experienced the whole of Ireland - one day at a time, no real plans. We just went about everthing in a different way.

It had been our original idea to complete the Ring of Kerry. It's almost always touted as a "must see" when visiting Ireland. However, our hostess from Shaminir recommended touring the Beara peninsula that lies along side the Ring as an alternative. Again, just a different way.

We drove along the peninsula and, as recommended, took the Healy Pass across to the Co Cork side. Uh, wow? I just don't know how to really portray with words the beauty that we encountered. It was cold and oh so very quiet. It was as if we were the only people aware of the road we traveled. We turned up the heater in the car and then rolled down our windows so we could hear the birds singing us a song. Any other kind of music seemed intrusive so we kept the radio off and just enjoyed. We hardly even spoke to each other and those of you that know Gigi also know exactly how hard this was for her! As we hit the highest point of the pass and looked down with wonder at the images below, I realized that we'd made it to church after all. In a different way.

After descending into, and then through, Cork we headed into Co Tipperary. The inspiration for our own local Irish pub! We settled for the night in Cashel, home of the Rock of Cashel. The Rock is a huge protrusion of limestone in the middle of the farmlands of Tipperary. A castle of sorts was built upon it and soars over the modern day town. One of my many favorite things about Ireland is this mix of new and old. It should be obvious and wrong but instead is a somehow seemless blend of the two. We seem almost fanatical here in the US about keeping our past separate from our present. It's as though we feel that our heritage may be tainted by the new and modern. I don't think the Irish people ever really see their history as past, it's so much a part of their daily lives. A different country, a different way.

We disappointingly couldn't find a pub comparable to our home "Cheers" but settled on a restaurant a few blocks from our B&B. I had a sudden intense craving for a cheeseburger and went with the impulse when ordering dinner. The result wasn't exactly what I was hoping for. The closest thing I can equate it to is a really funky meatloaf sandwich that someone thoughtfully slapped a piece of cheese onto. And, don't even get me started on the ketchup situation! Most definitely a different way . . . :)

TURN YOU INSIDE OUT

Day 2 - Tea and Poetry

If I was forced to choose a favorite day from our trip, it would be this day. And if I was forced, then I would take the liberty of redefining that "day" to start at approximately mid-morning and then continue to mid-morning the day next. But, nobody's forcing me to do anything and so I'll simply tell you about a day that was beautiful and calming. A day that opened my mind to so many choices and opportunites not previously considered. A day that I will always remember and that I will forever allow to bring me comfort when it's needed.

A telling and auspicious start to the day arrived with our morning coffee. It was actually good. Previously, I'd entertained a feeling of superiority over a country and its people that seemed so set on making such bad coffee. Intellectually I understood that coffee wasn't really their first choice in a morning caffeine vessel and that this may have affected their execution. Emotionally? Smug superiority. But, I must now admit, Bridie of Berkley Lodge B&B can make a pretty fine cup of coffee. And so, a remarkable day began.

We drove into County Kerry with the intent of exploring Killarney National Park. We drove through the town of Muckross, the location WB Yeats was reported to have written his poem Sailing to Byzantium. I'd never really been a fan of Yeats prior to our visit to Ireland. Have since realized that perhaps this was the result of never having actually read any of his work! The Yeats poem in question begins "That is no country for old men" and was the inspiration for the title of Cormac McCarthy's novel recently made into what many people consider the best movie of 2007. I just love little bits of trivia like this:)

Once in the park, we stopped at the Torc Waterfall. We took a great hike around the area and just soaked up the feel of Ireland. I don't know how else to describe it. I have been to a large majority of our own country's national parks and they are, in a word, amazing. Some even have similar topography and vegetation. But, never for one single second that I was in this spot did I forget that I was in Ireland. Spending time in Kerry you can understand the Irish people's fascination with faeries and the mystic world in general. It just seems, I don't know, possible there. I've since that day read one of Yeats' poems called "The Stolen Child." It has a chorus of sorts that transports me back to a particular place in the park by a little creek where you want to believe anything can happen.

Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

We drove along the Ring of Kerry a bit until we reached Kenmare. Kenmare is a super sweet and quaint little Irish town that I fell a little in love with. We stopped in at the Kenmare Book Shop and my heart or my soul or something just said, Home. The store was about the combined size of my kitchen and living room and it was perfect. It had a shelf of native wildlife books to satisfy Gigi's bird obscession. A shelf dedicated to Irish authors where I discovered my new favorite novelist. A shelf for poetry. And, yes, of course I picked up a collection of poems by WB Yeats. Another shelf full of cookbooks - I'll be doing a little Irish baking this weekend! I'm currently in the middle of reading another find from that shopping experience: Jaywalking with the Irish.

I guess it was this last book that really started the little tickle/trickle in my brain that would later, over a latte in a cafe down the street, turn into a Torc-esque waterfall of revelation: I could live here. I could pack up my apartment in Dallas, TX and move to a little cottage along the coast in Co Kerry, Ireland. I really could.

Feeling a little tired from the both the physical exploration of Killarney National Park and the mental exploration of self, our next stop was to check into our B&B for the night. It was called Shaminir and boasted "probably the best view in all of Ireland." Our hostess immediately offered us "tea for two" upon our arrival and kept us company in her very comfortable and homey lounge. There is something so calming and comforting about drinking tea from an actual tea pot while using actual tea cups in the early evening as you watch the sun set over a spectacular view of the Kenmare Bay. *Note* If you ever find yourself planning a trip to the country of Ireland, I truly feel you would be remiss in not including a visit to Kerry. You would be even more remiss once there not to take advantage of the beautiful and warm hospitality of Jim and Joyce Hughes and their home, Shaminir.

Once tucked in for the night, I found that although my body was calmed by the charming tradition of an Irish tea my mind continued to stream from one thought to the next. I didn't know how to get a handle on all the ideas and emotions this country was eliciting from me. And as I sit here and write this I realize the truth is, I still don't. But, eventually I fell asleep that night. And I dreamt of Ireland.

BEAT A DRUM and DRIVE

Gigi the over-achiever has already layed out the bare bones of our trip to Ireland. But I'll add in what I can, the stuff that meant the most to me. It won't be all inclusive and, unfortunately, for now it won't include any pictures. What is wrong with Blogger? I haven't been able to spell check anything all month! But, pics will follow at some point I'm sure.

I'm skipping the travel days and will leave out most of the drama of Gigi and I fighting everytime we hit a pothole (Love u Geege!) . . . luckily there is so much more to share:)

Day 1 - Music Memories

Have you ever spent a day that is so perfect in so many ways that you hear the soundtrack playing in your mind? You know what I mean, right? You can picture yourself as the opening, or closing, credits roll and you hear that perfect song. The song that not only explains exactly what you're feeling at that particular moment but also makes it better, or somehow stronger.

Our first full day in Ireland had gloriously perfect parts to it and I could hear the music.

The Cliffs of Moher in County Claire make your imagination run wild. You can't help but dream up a big sweeping epic and hear the John Williams score playing in the background. It was cold and misty. It was moody and perfect. Seeing the cliffs shoot up from the angry Atlantic below made me feel small and fantasticly powerful at the same time. We're all familiar with the phrase "my heart swelled," right? More than once on this trip I looked at the landscape that is Ireland and I swear to you, my heart swelled.

The roads and the drivers you encounter in the Emerald Isle have entirely different music rolling through your head. It's like one of those energetic instrumental pieces where a particular guitar chord or drum beat actually sounds like a word. Everything is blending together in a crazy celebration of action and excitement and then wham! A speeding lorry with no respect for individual lanes or an unconcerned and self-rightous sheep pops into view and the music perfectly correlates with the expletive that's on the tip of your tongue. Or, in our case, already sharing space with us in the car like a prayer.

Prior to the start of our trip I made an "Ireland" playlist for my iPod. I filled it with random songs that came to me in the early, early hours just before we left. And, I do mean random. Heavy on Green Day and old country. It made sense at the time:) I also predictably gave a nod to Ireland's most famous exports: the Corrs, U2, Van Morrison.

Some of the songs stuck out so much when compared to the scenery flashing by that it was laughable. We had so much fun listening to Flo Rida's "Low" feat T Pain at top volume with the windows down! It became our antidote for all that ailed, the fix for any fight or annoyance. As a result, it will always mean Ireland to me.

Other songs eerily complimented the moment. We came to a fork in the road that had our "Garmin Lady" confused just when Billie Joe sang to us about the same in Time of Your Life. While listening to Landslide instruct us to "climb a mountain and then turn around" we did just that as we drove up a curvy mountain road and then took a sharp right turn that had us facing nearly back the way we came. And then Dave Matthews asked "It's your birthday, what would you say?" And Gigi said " It is my birthday!" Because it was.

We celebrated that night in a pub in Adare, Co Limerick. What we actually did is crash someone else's birthday party (complete with balloons and streamers) and pretend it was our own. They didn't seem to mind a bit and eventually welcomed us like old friends. Part of the party action as the night wore on was live music. We saw a guy setting up speakers and tuning his guitar just a few feet away from us. We waited with anticipation to be a part of some traditional Irish music. So far the music playing on the jukebox was almost exclusively American. I'm pretty sure Shiny Happy People played three times in a single hour:) When he finally got started he began with a lovely Irish ballad about Derry. And, after that? He covered Neil Diamond. Elvis Prestley. Garth Brooks. David Gray. Johnny Cash. Seriously! Gigi and I even did the Texas Two-Step to his (actually really good) version of Kenny Rogers' The Gambler. Eventually he led the crowd in some great and rowdy pub songs. I have a video of Gigi dancing her version of an Irish jig with a local in a pub in small town Ireland on her birthday. I'm not sure it gets much better than that.

We ended this first day blissfully drunk on Guinness, excited about the adventures and the music memories still to come.

DAYSLEEPER

It is now 655 pm in Dallas and I just got home from the airport. Unfortunately that makes it close to 1 am in Ireland and I believe that's where I left the majority of my brain. So, you may be asking yourself, what in the world is Amy doing in the blog-lands?

I just have so much to say.

It's no secret that this past year has not been one of my better for many reasons. Paramount, of course, was my job. Funny, a year ago I never would have called it a job. A career or profession, yes. But, not a job. Regardless, it wasn't really the only thing wrong with my life. I just let it take center stage. But I'm over it now. No, really. I am. Doesn't mean I've figured out where exactly I'm going from here. It does mean that I'm done brooding and fixating on it. I have wasted so much time grieving for a year that passed almost without me being aware of it. Yes, it sucked. Ok. Time to move on.

And, I have. These last 6 weeks have been filled with a life outside of work. I've read what seems like a million books. I've eaten probably a hundred and 2 eggs and drank a small pond worth of coffee. I've visited family and friends long ignored in pursuit of profession. I've listened to CDs I forgot I owned while completing scrapbooks I started 4 or 5 years ago. I've slept. I mean, really slept. I've gone dancing. I've met new people. I've flirted with boys that are way to young for me. I've told the truth. And I've traveled. What I've done, is lived. But, I'm not done. I'm so not even close to being done.

Except, maybe I'll be done for tonight. I've already forgotten most of what had previously seemed so important to say. Vision's a little blurry and I had a hard time coming up with the word vision just then. Will surrender to bed and pick up my ramblings tomorrow . . .

BAD DAY

Seems like yesterday kinda sucked for the world in general.

Betting on today making up for it . . .

ALL THE WAY TO RENO

A friend once told me that the big 3-0 was likely to be my best year yet. At the time, I was less than convinced of that particular prediction. But maybe, just maybe, she was on to something.

Because, after a dubious start, things are starting to fall into place.

Tonight I ran into a friend from residency while getting a cup of coffee. He was studying for Boards (already!) and wondering about where this next year might take him. My advice to him was to take it slow, look at all his options, and not take the whole thing so seriously. If only someone had offered me the same wisdom a few years back!

A bit earlier I went to the book store to find something to read on my upcoming flight. I stopped in the Travel section to see if anything jumped out at me as a "must have" for tomorrow's trip. I kept picking up books on other countires - Scotland, France, South Africa. It's as if I'm already choosing my next destination . . .

This past weekend I made plans with my baby sister to tackle the "Dixie Challenge" sometime in the near future. It involves sitting in a bar for 16 hours straight, occupying one's time with things like "Big Buck Hunter" and marathon card games. We've decided to make it a family endeaver and get Dad on board too:)

Last week I realized that I do indeed still want to practice medicine. I'm just not ready to jump back in quite yet. And that's ok. I've got time.

So, you see, things are getting there. Not sure exactly where "there" is at this moment. But fairly sure that I'll recognize it when I arrive.

Turns out all I really needed to do was get the heck outta Dodge.

THE GREAT BEYOND

All right. I now feel able to respond to your responses to my previous plea for help.

I've given it a lot of thought. I think I needed this month-long break from medicine in order to truly search my soul for the right answer. And, I think I'm finally there.

Some of you thought that a franchise endeavor might be right up my alley. Unfortunately, there is a capital investment requirement that I don't think I can swing. So, sorry Nat - no free ice cream for you. And, Geege,it turns out you CAN franchise Starbucks (I was wrong, I admit it). But as they are currently in the process of closing down multiple underperforming spots I don't think it is the wisest financial decision.

Others suggested becoming a critic of some kind. I believe food and movie were mentioned. These ideas gave me great pause. I love food, I love movies. I can be very critical:) But, then I realized that my personal opinions about both of these things are so rarely based on anything concrete. I don't think I'd find success with a trademark "that's yummy, go there." I could be wrong.

Jesse thought I might find professional fulfillment as a shrimp boat captain. At first this seemed like a really good plan. Brilliant even. Because, he's right. It did work for Forrest Gump. Then I realized that I don't really care for shrimp and I decided that I would just be in it for the money. I'm searching for something I can be passionate about . . .

I think "high school math club advisior" was a joke. Or possibly an attempt to cause me a momment of embarrassment over my success on the math team during my high school tenure? Forget it, Nat. I'm proud of my multiple medals for being the undisputed queen of word problems. And we both know, I am no Wanda Grimes.

Bookstore owner. Proprietor of a super cool wine bar. Excellent ideas. Perhaps a unique combination of the two? However, a no-go for now because of the whole money thing.

Screenwriter. Song writer. Flower delivery person. All tempting options but alas, the talent just isn't there.

Katie, I had seriously taken your suggestion for go-go dancer to heart. A career choice that I could, indeed, feel passion for. Unfortunately, a recent bowling-related injury has led me to the conclusion that I may have passed the window of time to initiate a physically demanding career. I'm just not 29 anymore.

The possibility of "web star" really intrigued me Julie. I have long thought myself a star. I've simply been waiting for others to acknowledge this truth:)

I had almost settled on a life of loafing when I spoke recently to my friend (and old partner) Keith. Unlike me, Keith jumped right back into the work force after he followed me out the door of The Mouth of Hell (previously known as Methodist Mansfield). We talked for over an hour about the new hospitals he's staffing and the patients he's caring for. And the answer I was looking for became clear when I finally identified the feeling I was experiencing as we caught up. It was envy.

Turns out I miss medicine. I miss going to the hospital and making sick people better. I miss the mystery. I miss the urgency. I miss using the knowledge I've gained over the past 10 plus years to make a difference. I miss being a doctor.

But. I declare you all winners and very much appreciate your help and guidance during this little search of my soul. And Brian, the prize is indeed biscuits. Biscuits for everyone! Norma's tomorrow am for anyone interested and in the area. On me:)

ALL THE RIGHT FRIENDS

Just this week I got 2 birth announcements from med school friends. These announcements actually introduced three new babies as one of my friends was welcoming twins into his family! These friends were in my support circle during, at times, a very trying period in my life.

Lindsey had another little boy, Mark, to join her older son Carson. Carson was born when we were in school and we all had the pleasure of watching him grow up. Although we have had some e-mail interaction, I haven't spoken to Lindsey since we graduated.

Tod was blessed with twin (Joseph and Megan) siblings for his little boy Max to "big brother." Tod and I have kept in a little bit better touch but haven't seen each other in probably 5 years.

That's incredible. Really. Makes me wonder what I've been doing since I left my KC crew behind. I mean, obviously, we've all been busy. Residency makes it difficult to keep up with people. But, is that really a legitimate excuse? I've certainly made some good friends here in Texas. I haven't replaced my older friends, just enlarged my circle. And honestly, it's really hard to keep up with all my Dallas friends too and they live here!

Here's the thing that really gets me: At some point, do you stop making friends? Seriously. Think about it. How did you meet the majority of your current circle of friends?

I still have friends from high school (and earlier!) that will always be a part of my life. You've all been introduced to Natalie - that's a life-long friendship, more like family. And some day soon I'm going to write about Jackie . . . she's the star of some of my favorite memories. My UMKC years gave me some of the best friends a person could ever ask for. My girls - Polly, Jenn, and Leticia - got me through that hell hole! And Laura. Not to mention Nathan. Then there's Tod. Some day I'll expound at great lengths about Tod! Your teaser to tide you over: he's a Haller. And that support circle I mentioned earlier? All of the above plus so many more.

Cut to Dallas,TX and my residency. You can't spend that kind of time in one place, let it take over your life, without bonding with the people sharing your experience. Almost all of my friends in this city are from the hospital. I have a few others that started out as friends-of-friends and then dropped the "of-friends" part. But, mostly? Residency related.

So, basically I've spent my life collecting friends from my educational endeavers.

And now I'm done with school. Am I now done with making friends as well?

I know I'm being a little silly and oversimplifying things. I mean, I actually made two new friends in last couple of weeks (hi Chris and Brandon!). But do you get where I'm going? I'm sure new friends are in my future. But I'm also convinced that there are fewer to come than those that have come before.

And that's ok. It really is. But, only if I continue to nuture the friendships I have now.

Only if I e-mail Lindsey and tell her how adorable little Mark is and ask to see an updated picture of Carson. Only if I call Tod and try to make plans to get out to visit him and his new super-sized family on the East coast sometime really soon. Only if I actually follow through on my promise to visit Laura in Miami before I start working again. Only if I check in with Jackie to see how she and Tim are settling into their new house. Only if I call Natalie later today to gossip about boys and my travel plans to Ireland. Only if I e-mail Polly and Jenn a long commentary about the pics they sent me from their recent reunion in Hawaii. Only if I send a random text message the second I finish this blog to Nathan and Leticia telling them I miss them.

And only if I make an effort to spend some quality time soon with the people here in Dallas who were like family to me when I first moved away from mine.