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Keep Calm And Stepan

Jacklyn —  November 6, 2013 — Leave a comment

I am the first person to admit that I don’t know jack about hockey. In fact, I really don’t care about adding hockey or any other non-MLB sport to my life. At least, that’s what I thought until last weekend.

The Boy [yes, the one from Fries With Steak Sauce] is a die hard, eat/sleep/breathe, has probably considered a commemorative tattoo, walking encyclopedia type fan of the New York Rangers. I’m talking season ticket holder with season ticket holder parents, #NYR memorabilia all over the house, Rangers-only t-shirts [my personal favorite is the one that says ‘Let’s Get Nashty’ because, well, isn’t it obvious?], Rangers blanket, Rangers scarf, Rangers artwork. Rangers. Rangers. Rangers. Him accepting me into his life meant that I was to be educated on hockey and I would be destined to become a fan. For me, it meant a solid time block where I was not allowed to call, text or email and expect a response several times a week. It also meant I’d be dealing with playoff beards [ickle] and a grouchy bastard whenever the team didn’t play up to his standards.

As it turns out, pretty much all of those things are true. What came as a surprise to me is I actually enjoy them [except the grouch part, but he keeps that under control 99% of the time].

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It was eighth grade picture day and the first day in a month I had forgotten to say goodbye to Patches. When I arrived home from school that afternoon, I knew exactly what happened as soon as I saw my mother’s face. Patches was a part of the family long before I was, and she was 19 [!] years old when we lost her. Calling it a ‘hard time’ would be a gigantic understatement. It was especially difficult for my mother because Patches was her dog and she spent the most time with her.

It took us a week or two, but somehow my brother and I managed to convince my mother that the best way to honor Patches was to adopt another dog and give it a good home. So we went to PetSmart and saw Liz — a skinny red dog with Dorito shaped ears, one brown eye and one blue eye [just like Patches]. She was adorable, but she was kind of jerk, growling in her crate [again, just like Patches] and nobody wanted to take her out to meet her. Wade and I convinced the sweet man from Big Canoe Animal Rescue to let her out with me while Wade dragged Mom out to meet her. Turns out Liz was a sweetheart and had a ton of energy. We donated $50 for her and took her home.  Continue Reading…

I don’t know how it happened and I certainly don’t know when, but however and whenever don’t seem to matter all that much; what matters is how I choose to move forward from this point on. I don’t think I could be more excited than I am at this very moment.

Relationships never really scared me until now. I think that’s because I was always in one or jumping into the next one, each time becoming more disillusioned with every man [boy] that disappointed me. With each failure, I threw on one more layer of armor, one more layer of whatthefuckever, one more layer of fierce independence that I’ve been very apprehensive about shedding — until now.

I don’t know what happened. I don’t feel like I need to know. I just want to be thankful and enjoy the journey that is ahead of me, wherever, whatever it may be.

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[This was originally written on Saturday afternoon.]

Sad. Sorry. Confused. Furious. I don’t know how it’s even possible to experience all of these emotions at once yet still feel so incredibly empty inside. My brain has been going non-stop since I got off the phone with my mother. And my father. And my grandmother. And my neighbor. And Whitney.

It’s times like these when I realize how much the people in my life truly mean to me. I’m reminded that I need to tell each and every one of you how much I love and appreciate you, because it could very well be the last time I see your face, hear you laugh, watch you smile, touch you.

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