Welcome Euston Blue!

Sam, Misty and Optimus Prime would like to welcome EUSTON BLUE SCHAMBERGER to the world. I have no doubt he will help us along with Hagan STOP SOME DECEPTICONS!


PS. Misty's too excited to post.

Procrastinating . . . but look! I'm in NYC!

Ya'll, I had work to do - but this was so much more fun . . .



Thanks, Karen!

I'd Rather be Sailing

I used to be obsessed slightly with this song. Poor Matt and Karen probably heard it much more often than they'd like when living with me . . . Yes, insert here now sympathy for them and the great amount of patience they must have had to conjour whilst that was taking place (the living with me, not the song).

But I have to say - there's something about the sea that brings me home in a way little else does. It's so healing to me, the wind and the sun.

It's no secret I've been having a hard time of it lately. All over things I really can't talk about it here for myriads of reasons. Things I can't control, but need to let go of. Things that keep me up at night. And, ha, just typing this out brings tears to my eyes - I spend all day at work pretending nothing's wrng and then find myself all the more vulnerable when I arrive home, tired from performaing all day. Tired of pretending.

And so I sit here, tonight, alone while Sam works late. Singing along that I'd rather be sailing, and meaning every second of it.

I miss my friends. The old ones. The ones that know me, that need no explanation - nor expect one. I miss being able to speak to someone about nothing and yet hear a history in every word. I miss not saying anything and yet havng books lye between us. I know old friends take work too. That often we leave each other behind, that we grow and change and that navigating that is as hard as anything.

But there is a comfort in old friends that I need right now. I wish I were closer. I wish they were.

I wish we could go sailing.

I'd rather be sailing, yes, I would
On an open sea
I'd stand at the railing if I could
Feeling wild and free

The sun is on my neck, the wind is in my face
The water's incredibly blue
And I'd rather be sailing
Yes, I'd wanna go sail
. . .
People are swell but I'd rather be sailing
Over the horizon

And I'd rather be sailing, yes, I would
On an open sea
I'd stand there inhaling if I could
Feeling wild and free

The sun is on my neck, the wind is in my face
The sea is incredibly blue
And I'd rather be sailing . . .

Of course, I have it pretty good. I know that. This smile is what keeps me losing it altogether most days - and that alone is a blessing. Not to mention, every time I look into Sam's eyes, I see the sea. Right there in my best friend. Which, really, makes everything manageable.

And your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder

You got a fast car
But is it fast enough so we can fly away
We gotta make a decision
Leave tonight or live and die this way

In the name of Corporate Team Building

I thanked New York's finest personally.

Lobster!

Weights and Running

Sometimes sadness rests in my very middle, like a stone. A deadweight. And I can still walk and run and laugh and smile, but it all seems somewhat harder, somewhat tainted, somewhat *off* - because as I walk and run and laugh and smile, I'm carrying around this weight no one can see.

And I don't know how to explain it, or describe it. I don't know how to set it down. Sometimes I spend an inordinate amount of thought into how to just make it smaller. I resign myself it won't go away and the thought of that begins to overwhelm and I go back to smaller, smaller; how to make it lighter.

I make list after list of how lucky I am. How much I have so many would long for. How blessed my life is.

I look through picture after picture proving all of this. Of the many people in my life who care. Of the wonderful things I have been able to do.

Of the opportunities before me on who I want to become.

And yet.

This stone is so very heavy.

It makes me feel weak. I should carry it - it shouldn't slow me down. I should be able to deal somehow. (But how?) I'm even often able to push through an entire day, convincing myself it isn't there – ‘til I lay down at night and feel as if my heart's being crushed.

I'm not sure what I'm going to do. I know what I'm going to try, and I know in the end this will somehow go away - or I'll just get strong enough it doesn't matter.

'Cause I am so very very lucky. And this will. not. slow me down.

Our tickets are bought! Kansas on labor day,here we come!

Our tickets are bought! Kansas on labor day,here we come!

Cowboy, Take Me Away

The last time I slept in a tent was 1987. It was on a school trip and I have no real memories of liking it or disliking it - mostly because I'm sure the fact I was not AT HOME, but states away with all my best friends and the guy I'm sure I had some sort of mad crush on, made everything super cool back then.

SO when we first planned this trip to Maine I was, while excited, a bit trepidatious. Ya'll. I married a man who LOVES to camp. Who loves the outdoors and hiking and dirt and fishing and tents and who doesn't even mind having to pee in the woods.

I still wasn't totally sold on any of it, quite frankly.

But, one lesson I have learned over the past few years with Sam is that no matter how uninterested I am in something - if he loves it, that something takes on a whole new meaning. I suddenly find myself listening more intently, pay attention a bit more carefully - and dare I say actually enjoying from time to time . . . and while I was skeptical about this whole crazy sleeping in a tent thing, I was willing to try it for just this reason.

And let me tell you - I LOVED it.

I don’t know if it was the killer view of Sennebac Lake. Or perhaps that our tent rested beneath a copse of cathedral pines . . .


Maybe it was the bald eagle that flew over us as we canoed the lake at dusk, or the tiny bats that swirled over our heads as we sat before the fire . . .


Or maybe it was just that this city girl was ready for some peace and quiet. Some simple, easy living. I don’t know.


What I do know is that there's no place I'm happier than out in wild open space with my husband, just the two of us.


I'm already shopping for camping equipment and begging for us to plan our next weekend out in the wild. Not to mention ready to trade in our current silver skyline for some green . . . I can't wait for ur next trip. This trip was even a bit fancy, some nice restaurants thrown in - and of course, there was Lobster Fest as our grand finale . . . But next time I'm ready to hunker down for a weekend away, truly. For hot dogs over the fire. For hiking and roasting marshmellows and peanut butter sandwiches.

For real camping. For a tent in the trees in the middle of no where. Just us.

I wanna be the only one
For miles and miles
Except for maybe you
And your simple smile

Guess where we were this weekend!

stories and pics to come tomorrow - for now, to sleep . . . .