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Originally published at Skyspun.org. You can comment here or there.

I feel like I’ve been neglecting this place, and I don’t mean to. Life has just been “getting in the way” as they say. But lately it seems as though it’s only because I’ve been focusing my attention more on my photography “business”. It seems to becoming more and more real as the days go on, and I have to say… I’m super excited.

So, I decided to take a break from the 30 Days of Truth project to share with you my first paid photography gig. Someone I went to school with contacted me on Facebook recently and asked me to do her and her fiance’s engagement photos. So, today I packed up my gear and headed over to Savin Rock in West Haven and did what I love to do most: capture the moment.

Here are some of my favorites from the day… You can check the entire shoot over here. I can’t tell you how excited I am to hear what they think of them. And when they handed me a check for doing something that I would kill to do on an every day basis… It just. Hit me. This is really something people want me to do. This is something I could realistically do for a living – at least part time.

And it made me so, so happy.

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Originally published at Skyspun.org. You can comment here or there.

Day 16 > Something or someone you definitely could live without.

I’m going to go whiny for a bit and talk about my asthma. Because it has become overly apparent to me recently how much I seriously could live without this damn disease.

I was diagnosed with asthma when I was two-years old. There were a lot of close calls when I was little, and many ER visits and overnight stays in the hospital. But as I grew older, it got a little better. I learned to deal with it and know my limitations.

But the downside to “learning to deal” with a deadly disease is the fact that you tend to under-react when things happen. This is what happened last Tuesday.

I had been having a bit of a flare up and had been taking my rescue inhaler a little more than I should have… But I just chalked it up to the cold I was still getting over and the changing of the weather. Tuesday I went to work and realized that I couldn’t do a damn thing without wheezing and feeling short of breath. I left work, went home and went to bed.

I should have gone to the ER that night. But I didn’t. I waited until Wednesday morning when my mother pretty much told me she was taking me to the ER because I could barely speak. From 8am until 4pm I was stuck in the ER while they tried to get air in my lungs.

Annnnd I ended up staying there for four days, hooked up to monitors and stuck with needles pumping meds into my oxygen-deprived body. It was not fun. I had not been hospitalized in about 10 years. I was scolded by every nurse, doctor, specialist and family member for my lack of urgency when I was having trouble breathing.

And so, it was a wake-up call that I need to pay more attention to my symptoms. Thankfully I am getting better, and I’m home now…

But god damnit I hate asthma.

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This post is password protected. You can read it at Skyspun.org, where it was originally posted. You can comment here or there.

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Originally published at Skyspun.org. You can comment here or there.

How is it even possible that it’s 2011? Where did 2010 go? How are we already entering into a new decade? This just… astounds me.

I was going to post with the new 30 Days of Truth because I’ve been so lax about it, but I just don’t have the focus for it today. Simon and I had ended the year with Inception on Blu-Ray and a Smirnoff Ice, and then passed out in a Benadryl-induced sleep for twelve hours. I awoke with a god awful “Benadryl Hangover” as my father calls it… A wicked headache and insanely stuffy. I’m hoping to get the Christmas tree down today, as well as returning some items to Target.

What happened in 2010 that is worth talking about? Good question. I don’t even know. How sad is it that I just don’t even remember anything worth talking about? My dear Aunt Kathie lost her very short, but very tragic battle with cancer. My father became very, very ill and is still battling to try and recover. My grandfather’s lung cancer came back, and since the loss of his second child to the same disease his will to live has pretty much been demolished. It seems as though Cancer has been the ultimate theme for this year in my life, but I refuse to let it define 2010.

Simon and I also managed to save a family of strays who were living in the field next to our house. The mama (named Phoenix) as well as two of her babies (Cheetoes and Patches) were starving and freezing. We were able to capture them and are now happily living in our guest bedroom until we are able to get them to the vet and get them accustomed to people. Phoenix was most definitely a domestic cat before-hand; she’s the most lovable, friendly little girl and no more than 1-year old. Such a young mama. The two kittens have obviously never been around humans before, so it’s been a chore to try and get them a little more comfortable. We won’t give up, though. I took them as a sign, as we were able to capture them the day that my aunt had passed away. It was meant to be.

What do I wish will happen in 2011? Another good question. I’m hoping for… positivity. 2010 was filled with much sadness and hardships, and as much as I realize it is a part of life, I’m hoping that this year will bring some happiness to my family. We could use it. I have a feeling I may be saying goodbye to my grandfather this year, but I will not focus on this. I will focus on the fact that my husband and I have a house filled with loving, furry animals and we have each other and steady jobs and awesome family. I want to focus my energy on being more productive and organized – both physically and mentally – because I refuse to let my hectic life drain me.

Come on, 2011. Bring it.

Thank you.

Dec. 6th, 2010 09:17 pm
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Originally published at Skyspun.org. You can comment here or there.

It’s been a little while since I’ve posted something here… I was going to do the next day in my 30 Days of Truth project, but decided to wander from that for a moment because I really need to express something.

My gratitude.

I never in my dreams expected to get the feedback and encouragement that I did from my last post. I suppose while I was writing it, I wasn’t thinking of how it could have backfired in my face until I started to see all your comments of acceptance and admiration for writing what I did. It was then that I realized how much I needed to hear it. How much I really needed to feel like it was ok. I was ok.

Blogging has been a part of my life for a little over decade now (my god, has it really been that long?) and I can honestly say that I don’t think I have ever felt so embraced by the virtual world as I did when I started reading your words.

So, thank you. Thank you for telling me that what I did was the right decision. Thank you for taking a moment out of your busy lives and reading a rambly post about something stupid that a random girl you didn’t know did when she was young. And thank you – from the bottom of my heart – for making me feel accepted and not judged.

Because of you, I am able to let go of that little slice that has been digging at me for years. I am a better person today, simply because you opened your heart and let me into it.

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Originally published at Skyspun.org. You can comment here or there.

Day 3 > Something you need to forgive yourself for.

I could very easily cop out on this entry and write something stupid and petty about what I should forgive myself for. Oh, I shouldn’t have bought all those clothes last week. or I shouldn’t have eaten milk last night. I’m so awful! But… That really wouldn’t be truthful. And what good is a day of Truth if I’m not honest?

I was with my ex-fiance for about eight years. It was a very hard, very destructive relationship, because we were both very… not well. By the end of the relationship, I was feeling pretty worthless, and he was pretty suicidal. I tried to leave, but I just wasn’t strong enough. We talked and I threatened, and it always ended with me crying and apologizing and going to bed feeling empty at night.

One night I met up with a very old friend. He was someone I had a crush on in high school, and I hadn’t seen or heard from him in years. I don’t know what I expected when I told him I’d meet him for coffee. I don’t know what made me lie to my fiance and tell him I was meeting some girl friends for the evening. But I can honestly say that I did not expect what happened. Looking back on it now, I realize that it was a subconscious attempt to sabotage my relationship in a plea to get away. I wasn’t strong enough to end it myself, and so I slept with this guy, inside knowing that this was my out. This was my way to finally set myself free.

It worked. My fiance knew the following day, and I didn’t lie. We ended our relationship shortly after that.

Sadly, this isn’t even what I need to forgive myself for. I wish it was… and I suppose for a while, it was. But I had come to terms with what why I did what I did a long time ago. It was what happened after the demise of my relationship that really… I don’t even have the words, really. That hurts, I suppose.

I had spent most of the last part of my relationship feeling as though no one would want me. No one could ever love me, because I was damaged. I was broken goods with a lot of baggage, and the only person who would have ever put up with such shit was my ex. But I was so empty. I had no idea how to live my life without him in it… We were together for so long, surviving without him was something so new to me. So, I started looking for something to fill that void. And a string of one-night stands followed.

They would find me online. They would be local… they’d make short, pleasant IM-conversation. Compliment me and tell me how much they wanted me. I never really wanted to date any of them. They were never dating material, really. I’d meet them in parking lots. At their house. Their parents’ basements. And we would do things. Some of my lowest and most disgusting moments were in the weeks following my break-up. The things I allowed myself to do with these men. I remember very clearly one of them telling me during a rendezvous in his father’s basement: You are the best booty call I’ve ever had.

The best booty call. He said it as thought I should be thanking him for paying me such a compliment. Oh, thank you so much for using me. I can’t tell you how grateful I am for your affection! But, I was using them, too. So I never really held it against them. It was a mutual decision.

I was late. For some reason, I never even thought for a second I could be pregnant. I have no idea how this never crossed my mind, because today I would be a panicked mess. I remember a co-worker who knew what was going on had told me I should go to a doctor. I went and bought a pregnancy test and went home to prove to myself that she was crazy. They both came out negative and I remember thinking, see? They have no idea what they’re talking about. I’m fine.

After a while, I started getting nervous. Still nothing. So… off to Planned Parenthood. Sitting in the waiting room, I filled out the forms. One of the questions was asking me what I planned to do if I was indeed pregnant. I stared at those little check boxes for what felt like eternity. Adoption. Abortion. Have the baby. The baby. The baby? There is no baby, I told myself. I checked a box and sat and waited.

It’s funny how certain memories are just burned into your brain. It doesn’t matter if a lifetime passes, in your mind it feels like yesterday. Like a still frame of a movie, I no longer see it through my eyes, but imagine what the scene looked like to an on-looker. The narration in my head as though someone was watching my life while eating a bag of popcorn in a darkened movie theater, whispering to their friend, “She should have known better. What the hell was she thinking?!”

The nurse came back into the room and said, “So, the test does show that you are pregnant.” … Wait, what? Pregnant? As in, with baby? As in there is a father that could be… well… anyone?

She looked at my paperwork and noted that I had decided I wanted to terminate the pregnancy should I be pregnant, and wanted to know if that was what I still wanted. I looked at her and for a moment, I was so certain that I couldn’t do it. No. I can’t get rid of this baby. No. No, no no no. I nodded. I don’t even think I could speak at that point. What upset me was that she had probably gone through this same situation ten times before I even walked through the door. I was just a statistic now. I wasn’t me. I wasn’t a life with choices and futures and uniqueness… I was a number on a piece of paper. There’s another one for your reports.

And so, that is what I have to forgive myself for. I don’t know who the father was. I don’t know when it happened. I don’t even remember how old I was anymore. But I had an abortion. When I left the clinic days later after the procedure was done, my mother had said something that will stay with me forever: I feel like you just killed my first grandchild. I know she didn’t mean it in harm. I know she was just being honest. But that is something that will never leave me.

If you’ve read this far, I applaud you. I don’t usually try to drag these things out, but I really felt the need to be honest, given the circumstance. Please don’t misunderstand: I do not regret doing what I did. I know with all my heart that it was the right decision at the point in my life, and it could not have been any different. But it was the hardest decision I ever had to make, and I feel as though I will never truly forgive myself for putting myself in that situation.

That is what I need to forgive myself for.

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Originally published at Skyspun.org. You can comment here or there.

Day 2 > Something you love about yourself

Oh ho ho. This one will be tricky. For as much as I have to say about Day 1, I have just as little say about Day 2. I’ve never really been one to “love myself” in any shape or form, so I will try my hardest to come up with something that has a little bit of substance, at least.

I guess the first thing that comes to mind if my kindness. Not that I really feel like I’m overly kind compared to anyone else, but it seems to be one of the first things people comment on about my personality. Oh you are so nice! You’re such a sweetheart. You’re so sweet! So, I pride myself in being a kind person. I feel like there really isn’t enough of it in the world these days, so it doesn’t hurt to be a little nice. My mother has a plaque hanging in her living room that says: Nice Matters. And it’s so very true.

Also, I guess I can say my empathy. Although me and empathy have a bit of a love/hate thing going on. Because as much as I am grateful to have a “link” to people and their emotions, it makes it very overwhelming sometimes. I can connect with people on an emotional, intimate level when they’re going through something, and it makes it easier to comfort people who need it. Which I really adore. But at the same time, sometimes it gets to the point where it’s physically painful for me. Case in point: My aunt’s funeral. I don’t think I have ever been around so much sorrow in one room before, and I have never felt my heart hurt as much as it did. I literally felt like I was going to collapse with the feeling of heartbreak. So, I suppose it’s both a blessing and a curse.

So, there you have it. That’s about as much substance as you’re going to get from me on this topic. Now, back to the self-loathing.

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Originally published at Skyspun.org. You can comment here or there.

Kathie Domingue: October 13, 1945 - October 31, 2010

She wanted to make it to Halloween. Well, Aunt Kathie… You made it. This morning while I was sitting in the car at the gas station, waiting for Simon to finish filling the tank, I grabbed my phone for something. I saw that literally a minute before, my mother had called me.

I knew. I just knew.

I called her back, and made a mental note of the song that was playing in the car. Jay-Z’s “Empire State Of Mind.” This will forever remind me of this day now.

My mother didn’t pick up the phone the first time I called. It rang and rang and rang… so I hung up and called right back. She picked up on the second ring. For a moment, I thought I was wrong, because she almost sounded normal. “Hi,” she said.

I just responded with, “What is it…”

“She’s gone.” And she started to sob. And so did I.

I finished driving Simon to work with my hand in his, sobbing quietly the entire way. I noticed how beautiful the sunrise was and realized that she may not have even seen it. And how it was one of the saddest, most gorgeous sunrises I had witnessed in a very long time.

I don’t have words. I switch on and off… For a while I’m an uncontrollable sobbing mess, and then I suddenly just fade to numb for a while and focus on other things. I realized I was going to have to figure out a funeral arrangement to send. When was it going to be? I was going to have to take off work. Would Simon be able to get time off, too? I hope it’s not Tuesday, because I need to cover for Teresa at work then. Would they be able to get someone else to work if I had to go to her funeral? That’s understandable, right? I couldn’t miss her funeral. I don’t want to see her body. I don’t want to go to the casket. I wonder if Kayla will be crying. I wonder if anyone would be offended if I didn’t go to the casket.

All these thoughts keep swirling in my head, but it keeps me from breaking down.

Aunt Kathie, you will always be in my heart. I will wear your necklace you gave me and smile. I will cherish the opal birthstone ring you gave me and remember everything you’ve ever done for me. Every memory I have of you is locked away, never to fade. I promise I will never forget you. Say hi to Uncle Larry for me.

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Originally published at Skyspun.org. You can comment here or there.

So… I need to blog more. Not only do I need to blog more, I need to get in the habit of blogging with more substance.

As much as I have always been against stupid suvery/meme type posting, I stumbled upon this idea from here called Thirty Days of Truth. I can’t promise that I will be posting every day, but I promise that I will try my hardest to follow through with this.

Day One > Something you hate about yourself.

Oh, well why don’t we start out with something completely uplifting and positive, right? There are so many things that I dislike about myself… How to choose just one? Actually, I lie. I’ve gotten much, much better about my self-loathing over the years.  But, I suppose I would have to say that the thing that I most commonly hate about myself would be my IBS (Irritable Bowel Syndrome).

It never really hit me full-force until I was with my husband about four years ago. I ended up losing about 20 pounds because I just stopped eating; my stomach would bother me so much after I ate and I would feel so sick that it just didn’t seem worth it anymore. Most of my friends and family know I suffer from it, but they don’t really see the gross end of it. The bloating, the gas, the cramping. I try to stay away from as much as possible that I know triggers it (red meat, fried food, dairy, etc.) but sometimes it just gets bad and it drives me batty.

Some days are better than others. But some days I feel like a bloated, disgusting mess and I wonder how anyone could ever find me attractive or love me. Thankfully, my husband has a good sense of humor about it all and usually just tries to make light of the subject. I love him for that.

So, there you have it. Aren’t you glad you asked?

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Originally published at Skyspun.org. You can comment here or there.

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Fall In Love

I really can’t express enough gratitude for all of the feedback on got on my last post. I have to admit that it was possibly the hardest thing I ever had to write, but I wanted to remember exactly how I was feeling, and what was going through my mind. As depressing and morbid as it may sound, I wanted to remember exactly what happened. Although the memory has been burned in my brain for the time… I’m afraid that as time goes on, after she is gone, I’ll lose that memory of my aunt. I don’t want to lose it.

Things have been continuing on their path the way they should, even though I may not be entirely content with the direction. My aunt is still with us. I tell my mother constantly that she has the stubborn gene that seems to be so constant with our family. For that I’m grateful. I actually got to see my aunt again last weekend, when Simon and I went to my mother’s house for our annual “birthday dinner.” My aunt was staying with my mom for the weekend, and so I was able to spend some more quality time with her. She seemed in pretty good spirits and was still very alert and “with it.” I wore her ring, and she noticed it and smiled. It was good to see her again. I really, really didn’t think I was going to be able to. I can’t imagine how strong she is… inside and out… to deal with this for so long.

There have been some other family concerns since then that I won’t even get into here that have been keeping my stress level much higher than it should be. I try to be thankful for every day that I have, and for everything that I have. I know I am so much more fortunate than so many out there. I have amazing friends, and amazing family… and with that, you can get through anything.

The above photo was taken on my photo session with my good friend and co-worker, Teresa. I love working with her, and have had many sessions with her in the past. We went to a local park near my house that I had yet to visit, and I’ll definitely be going back there now that I know it exists! It’s a beautiful place, and it’s nice to have such a peaceful park so close by. I am looking forward to another session that I’ll be having with her, another co-worker/friend and their children for a bunch of family shots this coming Sunday. It will be at a beach in Norwalk, and I’m hoping the weather holds out.

Speaking of photography, you should all go visit my Facebook Page that I (finally) created as a portfolio of kinds. I figure, since I haven’t gotten my ass in gear with the production of my supposed photography site JessicaGallagher.com, I may as well have somewhere to showcase my “work.” This came after an impromptu photo shoot for Teresa’s daughters’ birthday party that I had attended. One of the mothers had shown interest in wanting a copy of a photo I had taken of her son, and I really wanted to at least have some kind of link in my email to her. Funny what motivates you to get going.

And with that, I think I’ll close this post of nothingness. Tomorrow is my 28th birthday and I will be working. Being an adult sometimes sucks. I think everyone should get their birthday off and get to wear a princess crown and be able to wear rain boots and capes. In a perfect world…

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Originally published at Skyspun.org. You can comment here or there.


Family

When I had originally edited the photos from my grandparents’ 69th anniversary party, I had left the above photo out. I know it seems ordinary to most, but it made me feel sad. My Aunt Kathie, in her wheelchair and oxygen… with my mother and my Aunt Mary helping her get out to the backyard… And my grandfather standing over her. My grandfather, who has battled lung cancer. My grandfather, who had a heart attack and went through triple-bypass surgery. My grandfather, who survived a hip replacement. Who turned 89 this year. Who has already lost one child to cancer… And is standing over one of his oldest daughters who is dying of the same thing.

It just broke my heart seeing this. I can’t imagine what is going through my grandparents’ minds. How they can feel at peace when they will soon be losing their second child to such an awful, tragic disease. You shouldn’t have to go through that as a parent once, nevermind twice.

Last week my mother called me to tell me that my aunt had been rushed to the hospital once again. It’s still so vivid in my mind, hearing my step-father talk to me on the phone and tell me what was going on. As I said my goodbyes, and asked him to please keep me posted with any updates, he started to cry. I immediately started texting my mother to find out what was going on. I could tell she was hysterical even before I heard her voice. I decided to call her and find out if I should go to the hospital – I didn’t know how much time was left.

As it went, my aunt survived her trip to the emergency room. But it was a few short days later that my mother called to tell me that the doctors had given her two to six weeks left, tops. They would release her as soon as home hospice had been set up. My mothers words were: You’ll probably want to see her sooner rather than later, while she is still of sound mind.

That night I visited my aunt at her home with my mother. She hadn’t arrived home from the hospital yet, but my mother and I had let ourselves into her house and waited for her. While we waited, my mother got a phone call from my aunt, saying that her daughter was taking her out for dinner and she wanted mom and I to go with her. My mother talked her into coming to the house first, because I wouldn’t be able to make it to dinner with them, but that I wanted to see her. So, my mother hung up the phone… only to have it ring a moment later. She answered it, knowing it was my aunt. She started to laugh and said “Ok…” and hung up. When I asked her what she said, my mother imitated my aunt’s breathy, exasperated voice: “Make sure… you put some glue… on Jessie… so she doesn’t… go anywhere.” My aunt had wanted to make sure I waited for her to come home.

It took everything I had not to cry at the sight of her. She looked so frail, and couldn’t even get out of the car by herself. She could barely speak, she was so out of breath from the cancer. We visited for a while, and halfway through the visit, she motioned my mother to go up to her bedroom. My mother returned back with a small white box. My aunt took it in her shaking hands, and opened it. Inside was a gold ring with two opals set in it. Her birthstone. My birthstone.

“Jessica,” she said. “When I graduated high school back in 1963, my mother… your grandmother… gave me this ring. Because your birthstone is the same as mine, I would like to give this to you. Would you like to have it?” I couldn’t even speak, I was already crying. I looked up at my mother, who had tears in her eyes and smiled. I whispered, “I would love it, Aunt Kathie.”

After a little longer, it was time for us to go. My mother gave her kisses and hugs and told her she would see her the next day. She has been visiting her sister every day after work for the past few months since she was diagnosed. I leaned over and hugged my aunt tight, telling her I would see her soon and thanking her again for the ring. My mother and I both walked out and toward our cars. I started to say goodbye to my mother so I could head home, but while she held me, she said, “Why didn’t you tell her how much you were going to miss her, and how much you loved her?”

“Because I didn’t want to make it seem like it was the last time I was ever going to see her.”

We were both silent for a moment, still hugging, when my mother whispered, “But it is.” I started to cry. Uncontrollable, hiccup-frenzied sobs. My mother told me to go back in while Aunt Kathie was alone and tell her how I felt.

So I walked back into the house, where my aunt was still sunk in the chair in her living room staring at nothing in particular. I fell to my knees in front of her, still crying when she turned to me and just said “I’m going to miss you so much.” I held her so tight, and she hugged me harder than she’s hugged me in months. She whispered “I’m going to miss you, too, sweetie.” I told her how much I loved her and how unfair it all is. She started to nod and said, “I know it is… But I’ll be watching over you always.”

We sat there hugging for a few moments in silence. I kissed her cheek and she kissed mine as I said goodbye again, both of us knowing that it would probably be the last time we ever saw each other. I stood up and told her I loved her, and as I walked through the front door I heard her say, “I love you too, Jessie.”

It dawned on me on the way home that night that those were probably the last words I’ll ever hear her speak to me.

She’s not gone yet. She’s still home, but the morphine drip is getting stronger with each day. Her birthday is next week, and she’ll be turning 65. I’m not even sure if she’ll be aware of what day it is by that point. Part of me doesn’t want her to know. Part of me doesn’t want her to be aware that every day brings her that much closer to death. I want her to go to sleep one night and just not wake up. Simple, sweet, peaceful. I don’t want her to suffer anymore.

I really just want my Aunt Kathie back.

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Originally published at Skyspun.org. You can comment here or there.

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One of the many beautiful buildings in NYC.

There’s so much to say.

I don’t even know if I have the time or words to really explain how I’ve been feeling this past week. It’s amazing how quickly life can change. I was thinking the other day that if you had told me two years ago that in a year, I would be buying a house – I would have laughed at you. If you had told me a year ago that in a year, I would be meeting my in laws – I would have freaked. If you had told me a month ago that I would be visiting New York City (and would love it) – I would have thought you were crazy.

Last Sunday Simon and I made the trip to JFK airport to pick up his mother and one of his brothers so they could see him for the first time in three years… and meet me for the first time ever. I wasn’t sure what to expect. I have “spoken” to Wendy (my mum-in-law) for the last three years via emails, and we seemed to have gotten along just fine… But that could be entirely different when she would be living with us for practically a month.

I love her. I adore her. I think she’s awesome and I know I will cherish every conversation we’ve shared since she’s arrived. I’ve learned so much about Simon and his childhood – where he came from. We spoke about his stroke, and what it was like for her, as a mother. Simon has always been so vague about his life and his family – he’s a man of few words, I’ve always said. So being able to talk, in detail, about his life and about where he’s come from… it just nearly made my life.

His brother is just like him. I didn’t think it was possible for there to be another person out there so quiet and so shy, but I was wrong. Not only are their personalities so similar, but they look exactly alike. Hamish is closest to Simon in age, and they’ve always been close. He’s about two years younger than us. He’s very polite, has a sense of humor just like Simon. I may not know much about him, but I can say that I like him just on the basis that he’s like my husband.

I went to New York City. I rode on the subway. I took a train for the first time. But the amazing part was that my anxiety hardly ever played a role in the entire trip. I kept saying to Simon, “I’m not even nervous. How is this possible? Is this what normal people feel like?” We walked the streets of New York City and ate at places I wouldn’t even have dreamed of venturing into, without so much as a panic attack. At one point I was nearly brought to tears of happiness because… Well, that’s never happened to me before. I have never been able to do something so wild in my life and not panic. It was so new to me. I would have never forced myself to have gone out of my comfort zone, but I can’t even tell you how grateful I am that I did. It’s something I will remember for the rest of my life.

Despite the fact that a crazy woman beat me up on the last day of our trip. We were grabbing some breakfast at this restaurant, and after we were finished, the group walked out. The place was packed. I had realized at the last minute that I had wanted to grab a bag, so I turned just in time for a woman to walk passed me, bump into me, and I accidentally stepped on her foot. I immediately apologized profusely out of habit (even though I hardly hurt her). As I turned to look at her, she was glaring at me with the most angry look in her eyes. She huffed and punched me in the chest! I was so shocked, the only thing that I could do was gasp and exclaim, “OW! I SAID I was sorry!” I started to turn and walk away, realizing she wasn’t all there in the head… and as I turned away, she shoved me in the back of the shoulder. And then slapped me in the back of the head. I walked out the front door with what I could imagine was a gaping jaw and shocked eyes and told the group, “I just got punched by some woman in there!” As I was explaining to them what happened, she had followed me out of the restaurant and got right in my face and said “And you know what else? You’re probably going to get arrested.” She started to walk away and I looked after her, replying “For what?!” That’s when she took the rolled up piece of paper she had in her hand and smacked me across the face with it. She stormed back off to the entrance of the building as we all stood, absolutely appalled at what just happened. Simon started yelling after her, “EXCUSE ME!” but his mother had just hushed him and said we should just get out of there.

I wasn’t hurt… she didn’t hit me that hard… but the more we walked back to our hotel, the more frustrated, angry and overwhelmed I felt. I started to cry. I felt like the entire trip was so good, and it could have ended that way and then she went and stole my anxiety-free mood away from me. I tried to hide my tears from everyone, but Simon saw and comforted me as we walked back to our rooms. Later on in a souvenir shop, Hamish had joked that Simon and him found a guardian angel figurine that I should have had on me while we were out.

Overall, I didn’t let her ruin our trip. I refused to let some crazy lady take away what I had worked so hard to gain – being able to live without being in fear that something would happen. I had never been able to do it before, and I was determined to keep it that way. So, as Emmysuh had reminded me, I “let go” as my favorite poem says.

I suppose that brings me up to date. Tomorrow morning Wendy and Hamish leave for Washington DC. They’ll return on Friday to stay with us for the weekend before heading out to the West Coast for a few days next Monday before returning back home to New Zealand. I already know I’m going to miss them fiercely.

Relation

Sep. 5th, 2010 10:04 pm
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Originally published at Skyspun.org. You can comment here or there.

<3
From the Heart

I started a Tumblr blog. I decided that I wanted a place to focus on the happy in life. I need a little re-focusing on the good around me, seeing as there seems to be so much negativity lately. I don’t want to drown in sorrow. I don’t want to be Miss Doom & Gloom all the time. I used to be the optimistic one. I need to try and regain that sunshine. What better way than to take a moment each day to reflect on the happiness in my life?

Today I spent the day with my family. Lately it seems that my Sundays are usually spent around my relatives. It’s sad to think that it’s taken losing a family member to realize how important they really are to me. We have always been a very tight-knit group of people, but now more than ever I feel the need to embrace my relatives and get to know them not just as aunts and uncles, but as people. As I mentioned in my most recent Tumblr post, we so easily forget that not everyone is blessed with knowing their family as well as I have gotten to know mine. My mother comes from a family of eight, and I grew up with 16 cousins. We’ve always been a large family… but there is so much history, so many stories… It’s so sad to think that there are people out there who miss out on that.

We spent the afternoon at my grandparents’ house, celebrating their 68th anniversary. 68 years! It’s hard for me to imagine being alive for that long, nevermind being married to the same person. Birthing and raising eight children. Watching them each raise their own children, and now watching them raise their children as well. The life they’ve lived so far… The stories they have… The things they’ve seen… it astounds me. I strive to be like them. I want to be alive for my great-grandchildren. I want to be able to look over at my husband and be able to say “68 years ago, I married you and look at us now.”

Doris and Herb Boughton, you are an inspiration to me.

jessicagallagher: (Default)

Originally published at Skyspun.org. You can comment here or there.

DSC_4633
Maddie chasing bubbles.

Things have been… I don’t even know what word to use, really. They have been up and down. They’ve been a challenge.

I suppose that word fits best. Challenging.

I have been neglecting this place, but mostly because I feel like the world doesn’t need another random, rambling blog. I have nothing to really offer that hasn’t already been said a million times before, and I have been an awful blog-friend to all of my favorites I used to read so regularly. I apologize for that. When I’m on the computer lately it’s either while I’m at work or checking mail. I don’t even really stay online much these days. Twitter is the only place I see to find myself these days.

My aunt is not getting any better… But that’s kind of to be expected. She’s been in the hospital twice, and the cancer has now reached her lungs, stomach, pancreas, liver and uterus. It’s only a matter of time before it spreads to the point of shutting down her vital organs. We’re not sure how much time she has… but she still doesn’t feel any pain. It’s just the fluid in her lungs that scares her. She has a catheter in her side to drain the fluid every few days. This Sunday there is a benefit dinner in her honor that some friends of the family have set up. All the proceeds go to her. There are raffles and music and a big spaghetti dinner. It’s absolutely heart-wrenching how generous and thoughtful people have been throughout all of this.

My mother and I decided last night that we are going to get a matching tattoo in honor of my aunt. It’s a play off of the tattoo I mentioned before… The quote “like a leaf falling from a tree, she just let go.” Except that in the leaf, it will have my aunt’s name. One of my cousin’s just recently got a tattoo in honor of her. She always signed her cards/letters “love ya” and so my cousin got a tattoo with that saying in my aunt’s handwriting. I think it’s awesome, and I really, really want to get this tattoo with my mother.

Only a few more weeks until my mother-in-law and one of my brother-in-laws make it over here from New Zealand for a few weeks. Only a few more weeks until we go to New York City for the first time. I’m trying so hard not to be terrified of this. I know it sounds so silly. It will be fun. My mother-in-law is taking me to see “Mamma Mia” on Broadway as an early birthday present.

My doctor put me on anti-depressants. They thought I may have had Lyme Disease or a thyroid problem, but after all the blood work came back fine, she was convinced it’s just my depression and anxiety making a come back. I can’t say I’m surprised… I knew it was only a matter of time before I wouldn’t have it under control anymore. I haven’t been on medication for depression or anxiety since I was a teenager. I had been doing so well. But… You know how that goes.

I realize this post makes me sound like the biggest emo princess known, but I promise you this isn’t the case. I’m actually doing quite well. The medication is helping, despite the fact that I’m not sleeping well because of it. I’m really excited to meet part of my New Zealand family – considering I’ll be married three years this December. I am able to spend a lot of quality time with my aunt before she passes, so I know I haven’t missed out on anything – and will have no regrets once she’s gone. And most importantly, it’s made me realize how important my mother (and my father) are. If anything, this whole situation has gotten my mother and I to grow even closer than we already had been as I’ve been getting older. I am so unbelievably lucky to have the relationships I do with my parents, and I can’t ever appreciate them enough for it.

So, I guess that’s all I have in me now.

jessicagallagher: (Default)

Originally published at Skyspun.org. You can comment here or there.

Overwhelmed

Sometimes life throws so much at you that you just start to feel so tiny in a huge current of stress. Like the things you’re up against are so much bigger than you, and that there is absolutely no way you would be able to fight it.

Ok, so that sounds a bit melodramatic, but I’m having a bit of a melodramatic time, so it’s sort of fitting.

I don’t even know if I can type much at the moment. I just seemed to have gotten myself to stop crying and compose myself, and so I don’t want to trigger anymore waterworks. I’m pretty sure I’ve cried enough in the past few weeks to form a small ocean. Possibly a mid-sized one.

Today has just been a stress-worthy day. For no other reason than I’ve been home by myself for most of it, and when I’m emotional and alone, I tend to get myself worked up and upset. Our cats got into a fight and it has become painfully obvious that it’s just not working out. I spent a good portion of the afternoon sitting on this couch, crying my eyes out because I am heartbroken that we are going to have to give Carlie up, and that Clea has come to hate me and be terrified of the house.

I got to see my aunt yesterday, which was bittersweet. For those unaware, my aunt was diagnosed with cancer a few weeks ago, and since being diagnosed, the doctors have given her a six-month window, if that. She is not doing well. My poor grandparents. They lost a son – my uncle – to cancer back in 1989 when he was only 40-years old. My aunt will be 65 in October, and to have to lose another child to the same thing… It’s just wrong. Parents should not have to bury their children. Especially on such tragic, painful circumstances. My aunt was like a second mother to my brother and I growing up. We have mounds of memories of her.

And I have to stop now, because the waterworks are starting.

I’m just having a really hard time dealing with even the smallest of things lately. It feels like everything takes everything in me to accomplish.

And it just kinda sucks.

jessicagallagher: (Default)

Originally published at Skyspun.org. You can comment here or there.

“Body Lines” – Self Portrait

Tomorrow marks a few things. Tomorrow is the last day of my one-and-a-half week vacation. It also marks the day that I can pre-order my iPhone 4 (actually I’m hoping to do this by midnight tonight if at all possible). And last (but definitely not least) it marks the three-year anniversary of Simon’s arrival to the U.S. The day that I met him in person for the first time ever after knowing him for four years online. I’m taking him out to dinner to celebrate. I can’t believe it’s been three years! Part of me feels like he’s been here forever… I almost can’t imagine life without him now. But I can still remember sitting in the airport terminal, scared shitless about what would come out of those gates for me, and what it would mean for us. We had already expressed our love for each other. We already knew what we wanted to happen. But we had never actually met before that moment and it was terrifying and  exhilarating all at once.

For those who don’t know, we ended up being married six months later and we’ll be celebrating our three year anniversary this December!

I am really, really not looking forward to going back to work on Wednesday. It’s been about three years since I took a vacation, and this week and a half went by so very quickly, I feel like I’ll need another two just to recover from going back. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I hate my job. There’s just so much drama. It’s been so nice to be living relatively drama-free for the last ten days. I’m almost afraid of how I’m going to react to jumping back into things. Hopefully I’ll be able to swallow my anxiety and just ride the wave.

I am quite sad over the fact that I didn’t take my vacation as an opportunity to photograph more. There’s so much I want to do/try… but really I need more tools. I really want this flash for my camera. I also want this skin (or this one) and this wireless remote. I don’t ask for much, right?

But with the purchase of my iPhone 4, I’m not going to be spending much money elsewhere for a while.

But, they will be mine. Oh yes, they will be mine. Someday.

What is the best (and worst) thing happening to you this week?

jessicagallagher: (Default)

Originally published at Skyspun.org. You can comment here or there.

Our new addition, Carlie

I completely forgot to share a photo of our new addition, Carlie. Unfortunately I haven’t gotten the chance to get a good shot of her with my camera, so you’ll have to settle for a faux-vintage looking shot from my phone. She is the friendliest cat I have ever encountered in my life. For those of you who missed my last introduction of her, she was my very good friend Leah’s kitty. Unfortunately she wasn’t able to keep her, and so Simon and I offered to try and give her a good home. She’s two-years old and absolutely adorable.

Unfortunately, my current kitty (a.k.a. my baby girl) Clea isn’t so thrilled with her newly acquired sibling. Clea was never a “cat” kind of cat. She has always been a loner (read: neurotic). Clea is about six years old. Ask anyone who knows me, she is my child. She had a hard time when we decided to add a slew of feathery friends (nine finches) to our home. Then we decided to shake things up and adopt a very loving (also huge) rabbit named Hopkins, and I was hugely surprised by the fact that Clea didn’t disown us right then and there. But now, we’ve brought a cat home. Another her. And she is not adjusting as well as I would have hoped. Granted she’s not adjusting worse than I feared either.

So as of now, Carlie stays in the guest bedroom. I feel badly, because she very much wants to roam the house. Unfortunately she isn’t allowed to, since one night we decided to let her roam free, Clea refused to come upstairs and peed in the laundry room. Right now I bring Carlie out once a day, and hold her while sitting near Clea, speaking positively to Clea and petting her while holding Carlie. She deals for a few minutes, and then decides that she’s been polite enough, hisses and proceeds to hide under our bed for about 20 minutes. And then she’s fine. Today she actually ate some wet food (albeit under the bed) while Carlie roamed the bedroom, checking things out.

So… baby steps. I realize that I can’t expect them to be BFF’s overnight, or ever, really. I just feel badly. I feel badly for Carlie being locked in a room and I feel bad for Clea because she obviously feels threatened. BUT, things are getting better, slowly but surely… and I’m hoping that sometime in the next millennium they’ll be able to tolerate each other without peeing on floors and tearing each other to shreds. That would be kinda nice.

What kind of pets do you have?

Gear Head

Jun. 11th, 2010 10:11 pm
jessicagallagher: (Default)

Originally published at Skyspun.org. You can comment here or there.

My sexy car, Oliver

It’s been a week since Simon and I have been on vacation, and we’ve done nothing but work on my car. We’ve successfully installed the new struts and springs to lower the suspension (and broke a CV joint in the process, in which we had to call a mobile mechanic and have him come to the house to fix it… thank the lord), and installed new HID headlights as well. We still have to replace a motor mount, but I suppose we’ll get to that tomorrow.

It’s been so very relaxing not having to go into work.

And my eyes are closing, so I think this should be my send off for now…

SSDD

May. 14th, 2010 08:53 am
jessicagallagher: (Default)

Originally published at Skyspun.org. You can comment here or there.


Bunnykin Love

Our internet is down again, which explains the lack of updates.

Ok, it doesn’t really. My lack of updates are mostly explained by the fact that I’m unmotivated, uninspired, and just plain lazy. But at least now I have something else to blame it on.

I’m currently at work, early enough where no one else is around so I thought I would take a quick moment to let everyone know that yes, I am still alive and well, so you can rest soundly tonight. I know it was bothering you so.

I have nothing new to report. Except that I am so very much looking forward to my visit with my darling Leah, who I haven’t seen in probably five or so years… Maybe more? And Simon and I shall be acquiring a new furry animal to our growing farm – Leah’s kitty. We really appreciate her trusting something so special of hers with us. It definitely says a lot. Simon is looking forward to a new cuddle-buddy. And Leah and I will also be planning out our awesome tattoo that we plan on getting in June when I am on vacation. Cannot wait. I’ve been wanting another tattoo for so very long.

Alright. I suppose I should get back to actually earning my keep here. Hopefully today will pass without much drama. These days seem to be very drama-filled as of late. Wish me luck.

Oh, and while you’re here – why don’t you leave a comment and tell me what you’re looking forward to in your life lately?

Geek Love

Apr. 25th, 2010 08:16 pm
jessicagallagher: (Default)

Originally published at Skyspun.org. You can comment here or there.

An oldie but a goodie found in my Flickr photostream.

I have spent the last 24 hours sitting in front of this computer screen, attempting to create Jessica Gallagher.com. I purchased it what seems like forever ago, but have yet to actually make a portfolio out of it. It’s been so long since I’ve actually coded something, I felt like a fish out of water. It’s a good thing there’s a door to this office, because I’m pretty sure I’ve called the computer every name in the book (and a few ones that never made it to the book). It probably would have helped if I had some sort of plan, or idea of how I wanted the site to actually look like… but that would have been something called “planning ahead” and I’ve never been too good at that. I have to say that I’m pretty pleased with the way it’s going. And, surprisingly, it actually is looking the way I had envisioned it in my mind. Which is saying a lot, because that just doesn’t happen when it comes to me and code.

I’ve forgotten how much I really love creating websites. I mean, granted, I’m no genius. And now that I’m not in my angsty teen phase, I’ve noticed that most of my friends have grown up and actually do this shit for a living – so my knowledge is nowhere near as great as most people I know. I’ve fallen out of the proverbial code loop, as it were… but there’s just something about it. It’s been a very long time since I have sat in front of a computer for a full weekend, staring at the screen until my eyes cross, swearing at a string of code that just won’t work until I feel like giving up, then feeling like I’ve won the lottery when I fix it. Last night I could barely fall asleep, because I was thinking about how to make things work. Plans of ideas of what I wanted to do. I actually dreamed about coding last night. I can’t remember the last time that happened.

I have a love-hate relationship with web design. Sort of like the relationship I’ve developed with photography. I’m beginning to think all my relationships with things are love-hate. But the love part of it totally makes up for everything else.

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