Daily Mail has kind of become my guilty pleasure. I check it up to 5 times a day, depending on how busy I am at work. I am pretty addicted to Investigation Discovery, a channel dedicated to real-life murder shows, and Daily Mail delivers hundreds of similar stories to me a week! Sort of a weird obsession… Of course, there are other things on there that I enjoy reading. Yesterday, my boyfriend and I came across a video of a couple of guys holding their prized catches- mahi mahi. All of a sudden, a seal JUMPS out of the water and grabs one of the guys’ fish!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! We watched it like 10 times, laughing harder each time. Clearly, I’m easily amused…
The point of this is that I came across an actual GOOD story on Daily Mail last week that I have been waiting for today to write about. I am a believer in karma, fate, and everything happening for a reason. I also believe in reincarnation which I’m told by some is foolish…. but anyway…
When Kyle Froelich was 19 years old, his kidneys essentially stopped functioning and he was in desperate need of a kidney transplant. With many friends and family offering kidneys to Kyle, he kept getting struck down as each one was not a match. Doctors believed he was in his last year of life.
On September 12, 2009, he attended a car show and that’s where he met Chelsea Clair, a 22-year-old friend of a friend, who was currently going through a divorce. This chance encounter led to a day of hanging out at the show and, when parting ways, an offer. Chelsea told Kyle she would donate her kidney. He took the offer casually- after all, each previous offer ended up as a dead end. She meant it though. She went and got some testing done to determine if her kidney would be a good fit. Turns out, the two were an “almost perfect match”!
Six months after meeting, the two friends drove to the hospital together to undergo the kidney transplant. Almost immediately, Kyle’s body accepted the new kidney transplant. While in recovery, the two had to be kept apart due to a risk of infection. This didn’t stop Kyle, who asked the nurses to wheel him past Chelsea’s room whenever they could, just so that he could wave hello. I can’t even handle how cute this is.
It wasn’t until after the transplant and subsequent recovery that the two realized this was more than a friendship, and the two began dating. ‘There’s a bond that no one else, unless they’ve done it, can know. She’s my best friend,’ Kyle said.
Three years later, on October 12, 2013, the two tied the knot in what I’m sure was a very emotional and uplifting ceremony. The couple chose to replace the traditional vows of ‘in sickness and in health’ and, in its place said, “I offer you my hand, my heart and my soul, as I know they will be safe with you.”
I am not used to being the stable one. I can be pretty emotional and definitely oversensitive. This isn’t necessarily a flaw in my eyes, but I have been learning to develop a tougher skin thanks to the “real world” and my boyfriend’s no-nonsense attitude. This attitude has been hard for me to accept at times because I just want someone to listen to me cry and complain. His homage, “that’s life”, stings a lot.
After a second time taking the test to become a Massachusetts Certified Arborist, my boyfriend failed by just THREE points. When I got the text from him yesterday, my heart sank for him. When he followed it up with another text, “I just want to cry”, I wanted to rush home from work and be there for him. But how? He studied much more this second time around, he learned all the Latin names for pretty much every tree in existence, and his confidence was much higher. How can I possibly make him feel better?
What I know is this- he is not a great test taker, never has been. His undiagnosed ADD can get pretty bad, which makes him stress out more than he needs to. I know he is incredibly smart. He knows more than probably half of the people who have their MCA. His friends that have their MCA ask him questions all the time about trees. He is the go-to guy for so many people in terms of trees and their health. He deserves this recognition. Instead, he has to watch as his coworkers- who went to school for anything from environmental studies to english (yes, english)- receive their MCAs because they are better studiers and test takers. Will they be able to apply this knowledge to everyday use? Most likely not. And that’s the part that hurts me the most because I know it hurts him the most.
I could see in his eyes how sad he was. It sucks to work so hard for something- especially something that is your future career path- only to fail. Luckily, being a certified arborist is not something he absolutely needs to get his dream job. He clearly has the skills and knowledge. I am obviously biased, but I don’t think having a piece of paper shows your true value. It’s ridiculous that this test is only offered every six months. His hard work feels like it was for nothing.
I gave up my movie date night last night for a quiet night in front of the television snuggling. He picked the restaurant we ate at and I tried to cheer him up as much as possible. If the roles were reversed, I’m not quite sure how he would have handled me. But I go with what I know, and I know what makes me feel better in times of failure and rejection. I like to have a low-key night, and I like to cuddle up in bed with my favorite person in the world and laugh at stupid things. I told him that I thought he was the smartest person I know and it’s one of the many reasons I love him. He has such an expansive knowledge of nature and science, one I have never and probably will never have. It’s shocking how well this compliment was received.
Sometimes we think so highly of others but never really tell them. I clearly think very highly of him but it’s not very often that I say it. A good compliment can really brighten a person’s day, especially when they are feeling so down about themselves.
When you fail, it can feel like your whole life is a joke. There are so many cliches to be said about this. But sometimes, cliches are exactly what you need to hear. When I was having a hard time my freshman year of college, I sent an email to my dad telling him how I was feeling. It was towards the end of the year and I had decided to start talking to someone at the school (which ended up being a great resource in my four years there). I remember my father’s response and it sticks with me to this day-
I started this blog to create a bright spot in my life- to cheer myself up despite the bummer life I was leading. Good News Monday was an idea by my mother, who was sick of hearing about everything that is wrong with the world. Why can’t we hear more of what is right?
I took a brief break from the blog to refocus my energy on finding a new job. I had convinced myself that the job I was at was toxic and it was time to leave. I’m not a quitter and I didn’t exactly want to leave my first job out of college after less than a year. I kept telling myself something else would come along eventually, and to just sit tight. However, it became painfully evident that this job was ruining me. I grew up with my mom always telling me to use my words. Confrontation has never been my strong suit and I’m not particularly used to fighting for myself and my well-being.
My previous supervisor was constantly putting me down. The power trip that girl was on was outrageous. I’m an emotional person, sure. But there were many days that I would leave there crying. If I didn’t cry on the way home, I would cry in my bed, while my boyfriend sat there helplessly. I can’t even begin to tell you the strain it put on our relationship. Men are born problem solvers. It is their natural reaction to fix it when they see someone they care about in pain. This situation I was in, however, was not fixable, at least by him. I knew that if I wanted to be happy, I had to remove any negativity I could. Therefore, I intensified my job search, I put the feelers out to everyone I knew and was applying like crazy.
When I came across my current job on LinkedIn, I knew it was a long shot. It seemed too good to be true that I could find something so perfect. But I said, why the heck not, and applied anyway. I literally heard back within an hour and scheduled a phone interview that same day. The phone interview went well and I was almost immediately introduced to my future boss over lunch. I wanted this more than I had wanted any job previously. I knew this was my ticket out of a nightmare and into my dream career. The day that I received an official offer, I quit my job. While initially, my decision to leave left everyone on cordial terms, it quickly turned sour and I was threatened with my last paycheck and accrued vacation time. That’s a different story for a different day…
I drove away from my last day of work crying, but for the first time, they were happy tears. I was finally free. I promised myself that I would no longer subject myself to that type of bullying again. “You took thirty-FIVE minutes for lunch?”, “The shipping boxes have crease in the tape. You need to be more careful.”, “I sacrificed myself for you and I will never do it again.”, “While you were sick yesterday, I had to do ALL your work, and my own, why didn’t you answer my call?” (oh sorry, I was having a colonoscopy, stemming from the stomach pain that the stress of this job caused), the list could go on and on. Not to mention, I was made to write daily long reports of each and every thing I did that day, and stay as late as I had to for no additional compensation. The stress of that job made me sick almost every day. I was on four different medications to help me get through the day. I was told I will never have a career in marketing because “it takes hard work”. I was essentially a secretary for a monster and every day, I was never doing enough for the company. They thought I would devote myself to the job, my whole life, my heart and soul. I won’t devote my whole self to a job, with no chance of growth, for $12/hour, especially when it’s not something I want to be doing for the rest of my life. If it was marketing, hell yeah I would have devoted myself to it. If it meant growth, knowledge, and advancement in the future, I will do what I have to do.
Many of the questions I asked myself were:
What’s more important? Relationships or a run-of-the-mill job?
Will staying here a year really help me all that much in my future?
Am I being too emotional?
What is better for my future?
The good news part of all of this is that I am now working at a job that may be mundane, but it the perfect foot in the door for a career in marketing and advertising. Every day, I’m regaining my happiness and I accomplished this all on my own. It’s the most gratifying feeling to know that I make my own happiness, I am in control of my life, and that I have the most supportive people in my life.
I urge anyone in a similar situation to do everything you can, in your power, to get out. I realize this may be more difficult the older you get, and the more responsibility you have. I’m extremely lucky that I’m young, college-educated, with no children to have to worry about currently. It’s okay to be a little selfish. If not now, then when? It makes me sad to think that anyone else would be stuck in the same situation. As someone who grew up being the pushover and the one who always puts others before herself, it’s nice to take the reins back a little bit and put my foot down. It’s liberating!
Thanks for reading. This has been quite the journey and I can’t wait to finally start MY life the way I want it! =)
I am a Massachusetts girl, born and raised. Living just 40 minutes south of Boston, I took frequent trips into the city, first with my family as a child, and later with my friends. I have been to all the touristy places of this great city, I have walked the Freedom Trail multiple times, I have visited all the great museums, been to the theater countless times (including a trip to the Boston Ballet a couple weeks ago), and I have taken part in the Walk For Hunger, which spans 20 miles through the city and outskirts. The city is so rich with history, it is hard not to be attracted to it.
When I heard news of the Boston Marathon bombings, my heart sank. When I heard there were casualties, I frantically texted my best friend, who’s boyfriend moved here from New Jersey to go to grad school in Boston. He lives right there on Boylston Street. My mind instantly thought of her saying to him on that gorgeous Monday afternoon, “Let’s go down to the finish line and cheer on the runners!” After all, it is a joyous event in this city, and one that everyone should take part in at least once.
How could this happen to our city?
When I eventually heard from her later that night, it was certainly a relief. However, it was difficult to be that relieved when 3 were dead and 170+ injured. Why?
I spent last week just feeling sad. I tried to cry, to somehow relieve myself of the pain, but I couldn’t do it. When photos were released of the suspected bombers, my anger set in. How dare you?
When my boyfriend woke up Friday morning and started getting ready for work, I checked my email on my phone. 12 CNN Breaking News alerts. It seemed like a blur as I read them, I couldn’t process the information. He came back to the room after brushing his teeth and all I could tell him was that something really bad was happening again in Boston. We turned on the news and sat in silence as they replayed footage of the shootout that occurred earlier that night in Watertown. Watertown. I work just over the line, in Newton. I eat lunch there on occasion.
I spent the rest of the day glued to the television. I didn’t know what else to do. It was an emotional roller coaster all day long. Police running from house to house, scared residents being evacuated from homes, and that dreadful video of the gunshots played over and over again. It is scary to see this happening, seemingly in my own backyard. My sister and I locked the doors and windows. The city of Boston, along with surrounding communities, was in lockdown but we felt that too. I traveled up to my boyfriend’s parents’ house for the weekend, listening to news coverage the entire drive.
I got to his house and spent the remainder of the afternoon watching the coverage with his dad. Neither of us knew what to say or do. We finally turned off the tv when they had the press conference, raising the “stay in place” policy. I felt even more unsafe once that ban was lifted. How can you lift the ban and assure everyone that they are safe while one of the suspects is still at large?
As we were getting ready to go to dinner, I saw on Twitter that he had been located in a boat in someone’s backyard in Watertown. Again, I planted myself in front of the television, as minute by minute passed. I was watching when live gunfire was exchanged and I was horrified.
When he was finally captured, alive, I felt a brief sense of relief. The terror was over. But is it really over?
My heart is broken for this city and its people. While I was laying in bed with my boyfriend that night, I struggled to put my feelings into words. He looked at me and said, “I realize how lucky I am now to have someone like you in my life”. In that moment, I knew that he was feeling everything that I was feeling. He was struggling for words as well. We spent some time trying to hash out how we truly felt. The conclusion we came to is that we just felt sad. All week. We both wanted to cry for the city, for the victims, for the witnesses, for all the innocence lost. But we couldn’t.
We are in this weird generation, where 9/11 happened but we were just a tad too young to recognize the full terror but we knew something was wrong. Now we fully recognize the terror but don’t quite know how to deal with it.
I was in 6th grade that year. As tradition, 6th graders are taken up to the woods in New Hampshire for a week of camping, science, history, and friendship. This was before the time of cell phones. I don’t remember which classes I took that week and I don’t remember my camp counselor’s name, but what I can recall is the feeling of unity. We sang and we laughed and we played. Tuesday, September 11th, 2001 came and passed for us like any other day. As did Wednesday and Thursday. We continued to sing and laugh and play.
When we stepped off the bus that Friday into our parents’ arms, we were loaded with stories of our week. The excitement could be felt by all of us, but we didn’t notice the same excitement in our parents. Looking back, my mom tried, as all parents did, to share in our excitement. How heartbreaking that must have been for her to figure out a way to tell me that our world had changed.
I don’t even remember how exactly she told me what had happened. All I can recall is sitting in front of the television, watching planes fly into the World Trade Center buildings and seeing them collapse. I couldn’t process it, so I simply didn’t.
As we returned to school the following Monday, it was apparent that none of us knew what to think or do. The same questions kept popping up- Why? Who? How?
After a few weeks, we began to realize life as we knew it was over. Our innocence had been lost and fear had set in. However, I am incredibly grateful for those extra few days in September 2001, when I was able to sing, laugh, and play as a carefree 11-year-old. I cherish that time.
With the attack on Boston, I feel that same sense of innocence lost. Once again, we are back to being extremely cautious, practicing safety in crowds and on planes, and struggling to come to terms with the fact that we are not invisible.
We will recover and we will rebuild. The fear that this will become a cycle is a real one, but it can’t stop us.
Instead, we continue to look for the good. I know Mondays are usually Good News Monday, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. However, there is good news among all this hate. As has been said, many people ran towards the explosion sites, instead of away. They risked their safety and lives to helped the bleeding and injured on the streets. Medics at the finish line, who were there to relieve muscle cramps and aches, were instead put to the task of handling bloodied victims, and in some cases, victims without limbs. No one cried and said I can’t do this. They sprang into action. This, to me, is the best news to hear.
I have such pride in my city. I have faith in the unity of this country. We have proved our resilience before and we will prove it again. I am so thankful to all law enforcement for keeping us safe and doing their job of protecting each and every one of us.
I have been very sick this week. I wish the pain would go away. But alas. I have quite the story to tell!
For Christmas this past year, my boyfriend bought me a beautiful ring. I woke up early Christmas morning to use the bathroom and came back to find the box sitting on my bed waiting.
As a promise ring, it’s not your typical simple diamond ring. I was in complete awe when I opened the box.
The ring is white gold (my favorite!) with a pink tourmaline in the center. On either side of the pink stone are diamonds.
Now let me tell you how pleased I was that this ring was so unique. I do love diamonds, as most girls do. After all, they are a Girl’s Best Friend. However, this was not an engagement ring. The fact that he had enough insight to realize this was shocking to me, although he did have some help. The thought that he put into it is what is most special to me. Pink is is my absolute favorite color. As he well knows, the walls in my room are painted in magenta pink with light pink clouds. My room glows pink. Anytime I buy sheets, he urges me to go for any color other than pink. I think he feels overwhelmed…
It’s so perfect!
When I arrived home a couple weeks ago from work on a beautiful day, I discovered the window was open in my room. After I had settled in, my boyfriend goes, “You realize there is a ring IDENTICAL to the one I gave you sitting in your window?!” He pulled it out and I could hardly believe my eyes.
It has been sitting in my window sill for probably 10 years. The memory of the ring came back to me and I remembered seeing it at Wal Mart and needing it. It wasn’t a hard purchase to make, it was only $8. I wore it for a little while, but as all cheap jewelry does, it turned my finger a disgusting green color. For whatever reason, I put it in my window sill and it has been there ever since.
How perfect is this story? As I have said before, I love love. I never believed that true love would happen to me until I met him. There are plenty of signs that he’s the one.
I knew I loved him when my dad made him eggs one morning. Very runny eggs. They seriously looked gross. (My mom later told me that this is how my dad prefers his eggs, so whaddya know?) My boyfriend sat and ate the entire plate of eggs because he didn’t want to be rude. I watched him struggle down the eggs and with every bite, I became more and more assured that he was The One.
We complement each other perfectly. When we have a bag of Blue Doritos, he likes the “dusty” ones as he calls them. I like the ones with the least amount of “dust”. I can be irrational and he is typically the most rational person I know. I soften him a bit and he hardens me a bit.
I can truthfully say that he is my best friend and one of the best things to ever happen to me.
When we discovered this ring in my window, I knew.
I love love. I’m obsessed with stories of reunited lovers- lovers that would stop at nothing until they are together. I enjoy fairy tales so much that I took a class on them in college. As my boyfriend tells me constantly, Disney is not real life. This story will prove him wrong, in more ways than one.
Once upon a time, two stray dogs met on the streets of Terre Haute, Indiana. Jade and Ben, both mixed German Shepherds, bonded instantly. Last summer, Jade became pregnant with Ben’s puppies.
After being discovered on the street, the Terre Haute Humane Shelter brought both dogs in to be cared for.
The dogs were inseparable during their time at the shelter, even sharing the same pen.
Enter the Lawlers, who went to the shelter to adopt a dog. They chose Ben, splitting the pair up.
He lasted about three weeks in their home before running away in search of Jade. The lovesick dog traveled 10 miles to the shelter – a 24 hour journey!
“He came out of nowhere and started licking her through the fence, like they were kissing”, Courtney Lawler told reporters.
The Lawlers soon realized that they couldn’t separate this pair again, so they adopted Jade as well.
Ben and Jade “want to be together,” Debbie Floyd, the Humane Society board’s president, told reporters. “There hasn’t been a lot of human love in their lives. They found love with each other and that what’s make them happy … Hopefully, they will live their lives happily ever after.”
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