My journey to New Hampshire Part 2.

First and Foremost.
Proof of my epic game of Scrabble from Part 1.

I couldn't contain myself, it was too funny


Now onto the next bit of my trip.

I arrived in Boston practically peeing myself everywhere I went because I was finally in a place I had dreamed to go for so (ohmygod you don't even know) long.

I was picked up from the airport by my brohem (brother-in-law) and my sister and taken to lunch to a tasty little place called 'Water on the Tavern'. There, I had lobster from the East Coast for the first time ever. It was absolutely gorgeous and I fell 100% in love with the city. I'm waiting for brohem to email me the pictures with Boston as my backdrop. :]

From there, we left to make our trek to New Hampshire.

We got through the city listening to some fantastic songs from the 80's, 90's & early 00's. It was too fun. Once we were out of the city, we hooked up my ipod (the one C let me borrow) and listened to Glee.

We stopped at a rest stop that had a liquor store attached.. Umm.. this kind of thing does NOT happen in Michigan, so obviously they went inside & bought some booze for when we got to the house.

Hopped back on the road and eventually found the road the house was on and went on a hunt for address 194 LakeShore (or maybe it was NorthShore) and thought we were done! Well, we drove around for 45 minutes... there was no 194 anywhere.

There was 190, 192 and 200, but no 194. Of course, we had zero service up there so getting ahold of anyone in the family was impossible AND my phone and my sisters phone were dead. What do we do? We stop at the village shop and ask.

After they met the town cop, Travis, and the fire chief, not too sure what his name was, they called the 911 disbatcher for the village and she said there was no address 194 in the surrounding 3 towns on any of the roads.

We were stumped.
We were frustrated.
Tension was really high.

I just sat in my corner in the back seat praying WWIII wouldn't break out in the front seat.

We drove around attempting to find my cousin's house to no avail, EVEN pulled into address 192 and drove all the way back hoping that 194 was at the end of the driveway... Nope, just a gorgeous beach and lake. So we drove around some more.. until...

We drove by 192 again and ALAS... there were cars in the driveway and people that looked to be our family members milling about. We pulled in and all was well..

Minus us bitching about 194 not existing and the retort being

"ITS IN THE RENTAL AGREEMENT!"

194 was in the rental agreement, but know this.. The address to the house we stayed at in New Hampshire was 192 NorthShore.

We then settled in with each other and despite living hundreds (if not thousands) of miles away, it was like we had never left. Conversation flowed and laughter ALWAYS followed. We joked about befriending Travis the village cop, walked to the beach, had Chinese for dinner, played games, it was glorious.

I did have to share a room with Grandma, which I thought was going to be a pain in the hind end, but it turned out to be not so bad. :] She is a neat lady and I absolutely adore her.

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So thats part 2. Just 3 days worth of the craziness. I'm hoping to consolidate and only have 4 written parts and 1 photo entry. Then, it will be back to my regular shenanigans. :)

Stay tuned for: Crazy Ella/Grandma conversations, that time we got lost in Maine, our joint birthday party, and FIMMY. :)

[insert sad face here]

I apologize in advance for this post. I'm probably going to be a bit dramatic and sobby, but please.. bear with me.

I feel like I'm falling apart.

I can only stand here and watch as a tornado rips through my life and inch by inch, destroys every piece of solid ground I've ever been able to stand on. It is tearing away the beauty and peace that I have found in myself and I just want it to stop. I want to chase it away and start to rebuild what it has destroyed.

I don't know what to do with myself anymore. Every move seems to be the wrong move for somebody somewhere. I hate letting people down. It is a serious flaw of mine.

I work my butt of to make sure people don't get the wrong impression of me. I wear what fits my body so I don't have people behind my back saying "That girls pants are just a size too small, look at those love handles!" I put my make up on in the morning to cover any blemishes that have appeared over night so people don't think I don't wash my face or take care of my skin. I plaster a smile on my face and am polite everywhere I go, just so that I can make someone's day somewhere. I open doors, I pay my bills on time, I help people when I can etc.. etc..

I can't stand the thought of somebody not liking me or not approving of me in some way shape or form.

I am a good person, at least thats what my mom tells me.

I probably try too hard.

I probably care too much.

It's my curse.

ughh...

It hit me today that I am a real mess, when a man walked back into our office after nearly 4 months of being sick.

2 Days ago I was speaking with someone about this man.
"It was real touch & go for a while there.. none of us thought he would make it.."

We are so grateful he did.

Today, this man walked in and came up to me to say Good Morning.
He is probably one of the sweetest elderly men I have ever come across and truly reminds me of my Grandfather[s]. He smiled and waltzed into the conference room across from my office. I cleaned off my mess of supplies, off the table, for the event I'm preparing for and he sat down. I walked out of the room back to my office when i heard more voices than usual coming from our production room..

6 women and 1 gentleman are sitting in this room chatting, drinking coffee and generally having lovely conversation while this Man sits in the conference room, all alone.

I don't know why but my eyes started watering and I shuffled back to my office for a few minutes to gather my thoughts and compose myself.

Why was he forced to sit alone in the conference room?
Was there some kind of sick and twisted punishment going on that no one thought to tell me.

It took everything I had in me not to cry as I watched him work.

He didn't move much and had this look on his face. One that would shatter every grandpa's girls heart. The one where Grandpa is sad to see you go, and just wants one more hug.

I hated seeing him alone. It was breaking my heart into a million little pieces.

Then, I was alone, in my office. Nothing but work to take my mind off of everything.
I wasn't very productive.

The situation somehow turned into a metaphor for my life.


I don't ever want to end up alone in the conference room doing work.


Um.. irrational much?
I think yes.

So, to the Man that sat 5 feet from me all morning, I'm sorry I didn't come in and have a conversation with you. I guess I don't know what I would say but if I had known what to say, I would have.

I told you. My life is falling apart. And I'm doing everything in my power to hold together the pieces. I'm holding it together because I know all will be well sooner than later and in a few months I'll look back and laugh over my momentary freak out.

Right?

Well, I certainly hope so.