Life by PJ

I almost said Happy Hump-day and then I realized it was Tuesday. So there's that. Happy Tuesday! One of my very good friends called me up today to tell me that her and her fiance have chosen a date for their wedding. This new addition of my friend's wedding will bring the total number of weddings that I am invited to/a part of in the year 2018 to five. That seems like a lot, right? (Too bad I don't drink anymore!) I personally love weddings. I love the food and the dancing and the dressing up and the creation of beautiful memories that will last a lifetime. To be a part of that (even as a guest) is magical. But no one really talks about what comes after the wedding. My dad always said that the most important decision you make in life is who you decide to marry. He would continue on and say that the person you marry can either make your life a dream, or make your life a nightmare. He would say that your spouse should bring out the best in you, support you unco

Happy Tuesday! I've found that there are few things greater in life than feeling content. When I'm at home in my cozy apartment on Friday nights with my husband and my dog playing Super Mario Odyssey and chowing down on pizza, I feel like the happiest girl in the world. Some people say that feeling content can be dangerous; that it can make you stagnant and stop you from progressing forward in your life. However, I disagree. Being content is accepting all that you have been given and being grateful for the roof over your head and the pizza in your belly. (And the 800 something moons to collect in SMO that are sure to keep you busy for decades.) I saw a tweet going around that said something along the lines of how people living in big cities, LA, New York, etc, were jealous of how those residing in small towns could be so content with what they have. A few years ago, I was more like those who constantly yearned for excitement and adventure. I would have thought that a bi

There was a Facebook post circulating a while ago that compared grief to an ocean. The post read that experiencing grief is akin to being lost out at sea, with tides that ebbed and flowed. There was no compass, no map charting out your journey. You were simply afloat. My dad passed away almost a year ago and this analogy is the most accurate way I've seen to describe what I've been going through since. Grief has no pattern, it has no rules; similar to the water of the ocean, it can rise and strike without warning, or it can be calm and simply lick at your heels on the beach. I can be what I consider to be "totally fine" and "in control," like a captain that has sailed this route a hundred times before, but before I know it I've been sent overboard into a screaming, swirling whirlpool that doesn't allow me to tell up from down. I've put off writing this post for a long time now because I didn't want to deal with it. I knew it would be o

Cheers to a four-day weekend! Well, I've officially made it through week two of my graduate program and I'm feeling really positively about the whole situation. What it all boils down to is how much I love speech. I. Freaking. Love. Speech. I could talk to you all day about all the brain pathways and motor pathways it takes to function correctly in order for you to talk. Or about how the majority of your personal and cultural identity is resting in your ability to speak. Or about how losing this ability and having to rehabilitate is devastating, but regaining it through therapy is beautiful and life-changing. Big sigh. Speech is beautiful. This kind of passion was what I was missing in dental school. I always thought teeth were fine, but, that was about it. My feelings about them can be summed up by something one of the dentists I shadowed said to me one day, "there's only so many teeth and so many things that can be done to them." Anyway, we began our SLP g