Once upon a time, I was living at home with my parents and working for free at a record label and also working retail to try to save whatever money I could. In general, I tried to be pretty and trendy while still being, you know, me, and mostly it worked.
I was also in this I Don’t Know What My Hair Is Supposed To Be Netherworld. It’s a fun Netherworld to inhabit from time to time.
I showed up to the retail job one day in a decent outfit, and I’d straightened my hair and my bangs were pretty grown out so I’d sort of braided them back and pinned them to the side of my head. I was working behind the register and somebody commented on the ‘do, asking, “Is that a braid?”
I smiled and nodded.
She shook her head, looked at her friend, and sighed. “Oh, man. The pretty ones.”
Weird, and slightly uncomfortable, but flattering.
(this video is also weird and slightly uncomfortable, however, it was filmed on the day in question and displays the ‘do nicely.)
I don’t really know what made me think of that moment other than… I don’t really know.
BUT THE POINT IS — maybe, according to the random girl shopping at Guess, I was (or am) a pretty one, but my friend Erin is a TALENTED one.
And it’s kind of fitting that I bring up this moment and find this video because in the video I’m all, “I’M MOVING TO TENNESSEE. “ And if I hadn’t moved to Tennessee (hello WHOA I’ve been here forever now) I wouldn’t know Erin and wouldn’t be doing all this fun stuff that is SO Tennessee like, um, letting her take pretty pictures of me and eating pancakes afterwards.
I don’t know how many of my readers are connected to the beautiful, wonderful, amazing thing many of us like to call the 20SB Community. Many of you, I would assume, since most of the blogs I read I discovered through the network. That said, I’m guessing most of you have seen some version of this post and this one over the past few weeks. As such, I’m not going to copy/paste that language. You’ve all seen it already.
The truth is, I would have posted this at the same time as everybody else, but I was kind of on the outside of the loop and didn’t find out it was for sure going to post until about 45 minutes before it did. I’d already scheduled a post for that morning, which had already published, and I didn’t have time to add another before I had to leave the house. I decided then and there that I did want to devote a piece of my blog to this cause, but that perhaps the use of space may be a bit more effective if I waited until the major push had been executed. I hope I’m right.
(I’m the one with the ukulele. duh.)(for a full list of participating bloggers, visit here.)
The second part of the truth is, I don’t know Brandy all that well. And I know that here on the internets we all use the word “know” a little loosely, but while I do click over to her blog every now and then when someone brings attention to something specific that she’s written, I’m not even subscribed to her. That’s not a reflection on her or her writing or my feelings on her at all. It’s a reflection on me and how I’m always slow to the party and by the time I realized she was wonderful, my subscription list was already bursting at its seams. I knew I could afford to leave her off because I knew the internet would never let me forget her name. On this point, I have never been more correct.
The thing is, though, that even though I don’t know her well and Lord only knows if she knows me at all, when it all comes down, she is One Of Us. And being a big part of a community that has given me friendships and hope and a million other things I couldn’t begin to list, I knew I had to give back to somebody who really needed it. And she did. She does.
LoveHarder.org has been set up for fundraising on Brandy’s and her Hot Awesome Dude’s behalf. While 250% of the goal was raised in one day (no, that was not a typo), the fact is that no amount will be enough until a cure is found. This doesn’t just affect these two people. Think about it. It could some day affect you.
If you are at all like me, you had absolutely no way of making a donation on Wednesday when the rest of the community was rallying its support around one of its favorite bloggers. So, just in case you just got paid, or found a twenty in your jeans pocket, or spent all weekend fishing coins out of your couch for the cause, I just thought I’d remind you. This problem didn’t begin and end within a 24-hour period. It is on-going. If you wanted to donate then and couldn’t, do so today. Or next week. Or next month. Whatever. Love Harder. And Love Longer.
Every little bit counts.
(i wrote this post and then scheduled it. since doing so, the effort has reached $3,000, the goal has been raised from the original $1,000 to a more fitting and terribly attainable $5,000, loveharder is now on twitter, and an online store has been opened (the coffee mug is soooo being added to the things-i-need list). there are so many ways to support this amazing cause. anything you can do is appreciated.)
Tonight he said, “I don’t know if you realize how rare you are.”
I stared at him.
“Do you?”
I told him what a strange thing that is to be asked. “You’re amazing, did you know?” Of course I know. We all are, in our own way. But do I know how you see me? Do I know which of my traits you’ve focused in on, things I’m probably aware exist but rarely even think about anymore? Do I walk around my life each second thinking, “Yes, I certainly am God’s gift to all of creation?” I don’t. Unless you flat out tell me, like you’re doing right now, I have no idea what kind of light fills your eyes when you look at me.
At some point, I don’t remember when, I began making an effort to stop complaining. It wasn’t easy. I still do it now and then. But I figured, half the time I’m not as miserable as I sound, and the other half I’m actually convincing myself I’m as miserable as I sound. It added up to a lot of misery.
Why? I could just be happy, couldn’t I?
I wasn’t sure, but in an amount of time measurable in years (in my estimation) later, I found myself sitting in an orange, winged armchair, drinking coffee, and looking straight back at this beautiful, emotional, honest man saying, “I’ve been alive for 28 years and do you know how many women like you I’ve known? Not enough.”
And I realized that, at some point, I made the right decision.
And part of that decision involved surrounding myself with the right people. Not everyone can be skittles and unicorns all day every day, and I’m not either. But knowing who really has the kind of outlook on life to just throw the “glass half full” mindset out the window and instead pop by the table unasked to give you the refill and a brand new slice of lemon? Make sure those are the people you spend your time with. That’s what really matters. Not letting the other people tear you down, and even doing your best to maintain your sunny attitude, hoping to be some sort of example or inspiration to those who just aren’t there yet? That’s what really matters.
I don’t care who you are. Life isn’t about how much money you have, how many people know who you are, how many popularity contests you’ve won or how many people you boss around forty hours a week. It’s about loud music on the open road, chocolate chip cookies, morning walks, dusty family farms, holding hands, movies and couches and glasses of wine and fireplaces, telling great stories, and laughing a lot. It’s about living life and enjoying it, and you’re only going to enjoy it if you start looking for the things and the people worth enjoying.
That’s why I love this community. Right here. It’s about love up in here. All about love. And you’re on board with me. And that’s why I keep you around.
Do I realize how rare I am?
No.
I don’t think I’m terribly rare. But maybe I have a skewed sense of the world around me, because I’ve found all of you. But maybe he just hasn’t been looking in the right places.
i will sail my vessel
'til the river runs dry
like a bird upon the wind
these waters are my sky
i'll never
reach my destination
if i never try
so i will sail my vessel
'til the river runs dry...
--"the river," garth brooks
