New Year, New Blog Home

Welcome to my new home! If you are joining me from my other blog, "Chicago Commuter Commentary," then I welcome you with open arms, and appreciate you following me all the way over here to "Long Story Short..."

I look forward to connecting with new readers, and to re-connecting with my beloved followers. To explain the move over here I provide you with the below explanation. And, this is to reassure you travelers who joined me from my other blog home that you've found the right place.

Welcome home.

I have always been a storyteller.

It started when I was young, and would tell and retell stories to anyone who would sit still long enough to listen.

As I got older, and my friendships grew deeper, my girls would laugh and listen and provide me with an attentive audience for my stories. However, they noticed quickly that if distracted, or inspired, I would travel off track of the original story to embellish a detail or to expand on a part of the side or back story that, in my mind, allowed the listener a broader and more thorough understanding of the main story. They immediately tagged me a "backtracker" who often got so off track that I had trouble finding my way back to the gist.

They were wrong, however.

I could always, given the chance, find my way back to the intended story, and felt that the level of details only improved their listening experience. In order to keep the stories on track, and to a reasonable length of telling, they teasingly granted me two "backtracks" per story.

I insist that these limitations don't do much for the quailty of my stories, but I must trust my audience and grant them that much at least. I also must recognize that my friends are heavy talkers too, and often stop or stall the story midway through to tell their side, their point of view or their recollection of said incident. My one friend, who knows who she is, always listened intently without interruption, and rarely received much acclaim in this area - except for a knowing glance from me.

As I got even older, and learned the art of storytelling requires the creation of a true two-way street, or a dialogue, I realized that the storyteller must also be a good listener, asking questions of the audience. This communication skill has served me well in both my personal and professional life. I would hope that my friends would recognize that I'm not a belligerent talker, but rather I create a conversation through my stories.

It hasn't ever hurt that I have a good memory, and can often recall a story with incredible detail and recognition, but this too has changed as I have aged. I sometimes now forget the details and require some assistance in my storytelling. The stories can get long, albeit not arduous (I hope!) and my friends have requested that I re-tell the same story often to spark a laugh, a conversation or to relive a moment we had previously shared.

I will admit one thing, though. I must.

My stories are long. Like my blog posts. If you've been reading for some time, I have a way of describing something so it really digs into the truth, or the details, in order to convey a feeling, an observation or a moment of time.

This situation has created a silly little habit. I often find myself saying, "long story short..." before I continue.

It never really is.

I admit it, and am willing to take the blame.

And, use this habit as the segue into this newly re-located, newly re-named blog.

I designed my own header because I believe captures very much the truth of who I am. Featured above, it shows an open book (because I am, and I am also a lover of words, writing, reading and everything book-related), a photo of Chicago (because so many of my stories include her as a central character), a photo of me (because really, it's all about my point of view) and a peach on the vine (which demonstrates that I haven't lost, or forgotten, my Georgia roots).

New year, new job, new blog.

A fresh start.

Please update your bookmarks to reflect this change, tell fellow readers about the move and visit me here as often as you like. I look forward to a shorter, more concise URL and a new home for my future stories.

With limited backtracks, I hope.

These Small Hours

As a follow up to my very personal and humbling post Sunday night that expressed the pain I have been going through, I wanted to share this. I heard this song on the radio today and think it can say better than I could how I'm feeing right now.

As a meager attempt in my own words, let me say that I'm optimistic, hopeful, informed, comforted and bearing no regrets. It is a new day.

--
"Little Wonders" by Rob Thomas

Let it go,
Let it roll right off your shoulder
Don't you know
The hardest part is over
Let it in,
Let your clarity define you
In the end
We will only just remember how it feels.

Our lives are made
In these small hours
These little wonders,
These twists and turns of fate
Time falls away,
But these small hours,
These small hours still remain.

Let it slide,
Let your troubles fall behind you
Let it shine
Until you feel it all around you
And I don't mind
If it's me you need to turn to
We’ll get by,
It's the heart that really matters in the end.

Our lives are made
In these small hours
These little wonders,
These twists and turns of fate
Time falls away,
But these small hours,
These small hours still remain.

All of my regret
Will wash away somehow
But I cannot forget
The way I feel right now.

In these small hours
These little wonders
These twists and turns of fate
These twists and turns of fate
Time falls away but these small hours
These small hours, still remain,
Still remain
These little wonders
These twists and turns of fate
Time falls away
But these small hours
These little wonders still remain.
--

These small hours have been tough for me, but I'm healing and moving on to bigger and better things.

I'm hopeful that the job front will open an opportunity this week, and I have reason to believe that is true, and with that, I begin again. I will start something fresh, while putting to bed the memories that the last year enabled, the relationships I have made and the joys that I experienced. Those I will treasure forever.

I refuse to feel regretful for sharing, loving, giving and opening myself up to being vulnerable. I know now that I can and will love again, and a new start, a new president, a new job and a new day will help me see things more clearly.

Little wonders still remain.

Stuck in the Middle with You

I have officially published 280+ blog posts, and I can't believe it hasn't occurred to me yet to write about this yet.

Let's chalk that up to to timing, shall we?

This time of year, it is all about Christmas (or Hanukkah) and New Year's. Nothing more, nothing less.

And I get it, alright?

But, some of our parents got freaky in the months of March or April (spring fever, anyone?) and therefore, a few of us unlucky ones have a birthday that is square in the middle of the holidays.

And, don't go telling me that would be so great because:

a) you were never in school on your birthday

b) you are not working on your birthday, likely

c) all those presents at once? egad!

Because the truth is, it is hard.

As I get older (eek, it keeps happening to me!), the pain lessens, but seriously, it is tough to have a birthday that is wedged perfectly, symmetrically, evenly between Christmas and New Years.

For you geniuses, and those of you that went to Math Camp (Laura!), this means my birthday falls every year on December 28th. Three days after Christmas, and three days before New Years.

What does that mean for me?

It means that when my birthday hits, people are:

a) out of town

b) tired of eating too much fattening delicious food

c) over the whole "presents thing"

d) saving up for New Year's Eve

e) not interested in buying you a drink, they're hungover and broke

f) who are you - you're not Baby Jesus - why do I care?

So, the bottom line is this. It sucks.

And, even as I age past 30, a few birthdays past 30 that is, I still feel like it is a lousy time to be saddled with a birthday. I have never had cupcakes for the whole class on my birthday, I have never had a pool party birthday, I have never gotten to spread the gift haul out over the course of a year, I have never known what it was like not to be wedged between two more important holidays.

I will say this. As an adult, it is nice to be at home (or on vacation with my family) celebrating the "holidays" while we tack on my birthday at the end. I appreciate that. I realize it is far better than being stuck at work in an office with fake "happy birthdays" and bad store-bought cake.

I get it.

But, I urge you all (you June birthdays especially!) to recognize the hardships we late December birthdays have endured. It has been rough. Tough. Painful. Touch and go, even.

The one saving grace is this: (ok, it is a few things)

a) my Mom and Dad have always made it a big deal no matter what month it was

b) they even chose "birthday paper" instead of the leftover Christmas wrapping paper

c) they hid the birthday gifts until the morning of, to build suspense

d) I got to eat off the red "You are special today" plate every year

e) it is still in that time of year when we eat whatever we want and that includes two pieces of cake

So, I'll be ok. I'll survive. I'll even manage to make it a whole "fun day for us all" if you insist.

But, just remember. Don't ever, under any circumstances, combine gifts. Don't try to pass that off on us, we're smarter than that. It doesn't matter that you spent more this way. That whole "I thought you'd get more this way" shenanigan is not lost on us.

We know we got screwed, and you know you got off easy. Does this look like a kid who wants to be messed with?


Yes, today is my birthday, and now you feel so guilty that you're obligated to say something. Anything. Just put it in the comments and I will feel so loved.

Just don't use green or red wrapping paper when you do.