for a rainy day.

Oh, The Temptation from Steve V on Vimeo.

first time...

... i've ever had to call a front desk at a hotel and tell them the hallway en route to my room smells like sewage. i even stayed inside my room a good 30 minutes before opening the door to re-check.
yepp.
still sewage.
gross.
the life of cw.

the little things.... like

vegetables you aren't afraid to eat.
GRILLED CHICKEN! (because its cooked and is definitely chicken....)
not having to worry about keeping your mouth closed in the shower.
brushing my teeth with water from the faucet; not bottled.
apples. yogurt. avacado. cream in my coffee.
hairdryers. not outrageous humidity + bad water and the resulting hairdo.

its the little things that are utterly amazing upon returning into the USA from (this part of) china. despite all the snacks i always bring; i run out rather quickly... and despite hope, my hair always looks like medusa.
xo,
cw

a moment of realization is worth a thousand prayers.

driving to the factories a few days ago there were four of us in a van. i would never tell my parents how unsafe/scary/not-modern the highways that we drive on are and the vans that we ride in. there are multiple accidents daily involving pedestrians, bicyclists, and vehicles. this is not a good part of china. this is not glamorous. 

we were driving about 80mph, maybe faster, and we were heading straight into stopped traffic. tour buses, cars, the traffic is unreal here. we're flying down the highway, and though it happened quite fast, my boss calmly said, "dude, is our driver awake????" and before i could even look up, he was leaping from his chair in the middle row, screamed, and shoved the guy on the shoulder; just in time for the driver to slam on the breaks. we skidded into traffic, came to a swerving, careening stop. all four of us in the car were completely silent, completely calm.

it was over in about 30 seconds.

i went over about 25 scenarios in my head. what if it was me sitting in that seat with my head turned talking to tom behind me, as it was most days. what if tom had never noticed he was asleep. what if we were all resting our eyes too on these early mornings after these long days. what if we'd hit a bus going 80-90mph in one of the poorest parts of china, in one of the most unsafe vehicles i ever ride in.

we all got out of the car calmly. all four of us knew what had just happened. we had plenty more laughs the days following, we were able to work just fine, but there was a total awareness of how close it was to having a very altered, severe outcome.

xo,

cw

weekend getaways and one watch later.

myself and four solid footwear team colleagues left dongguan, china to spend about 24 hours in the amazing city of hong kong before returning to dongguan for another week. i have decided i am going to write a separate blog on why my all male colleagues are fantastic to travel with. its like having a gaggle of brotherly/fatherly/unclely (is that a word?) humans who just look out for the chick. be it a small bladder and frequent stops, a weak stomach and help turning away certain foods without offending a culture, or making sure i turn away to avoid seeing something very tragic, scary, and unfortunately common in the place we were in china... they are seriously the best. the best as in just good human beings.

and tonight in hong kong i had 3 of them with me to stare across the table as i bargained down the price of a replica cartier watch. one mouthed certain things i should say, as another tapped my knee under the table to signal me to hold strong on my low offer, and the third inspected the extra links to make sure they were threaded... (something i know nothing about). all in all i am going to give myself plenty of credit, as it was a well played, well crafted bargain. i left the tiny, smokey, shady room that took a very sketchy maze to get to... with an awesomely-replicated Cartier Watch. It's an oversized mens because i just love the look on a fairly small wrist.... L O V E . (pictured left.... mine looks identical).

and yes it is totally fake.
but to me looks just like the real one.
and it was completely worth 80 bucks.
and i am lucky to work with great humans.

xo,
cw

4AM.

wide awake even after all that wine.

it was A LOT of wine.

(part of the tradition here when the factory takes you to a traditional chinese dinner).

a colleague and i were eating goldfish from a backpack stashed under the table.

this is not chinese cuisine like you would think.... this is dongguan, china.

i don't feel good.

i laughed so hard today.

i work with great people... who will tell it straight.

and i love that.

and we love shoes.

and today i was told i tell the absolute best stories.

glad somebody noticed. (kidding)  ;)

in total seriousness. lots of laughter. running shoes. good people....
who make you your better self when you're with them.

i have felt like myself.  and i am all good with everything.

except that i am awake at 4AM
and that my tum is full of red wine.

checklists and lulu lemon pants

I’m writing this blog Monday evening (EST) on the plane - I’m en route to Hong Kong, a good 15+ hour flight from JFK, where I finally made it to after a long delay this morning in Boston. After we land in Hong Kong, we’ll take a 2 1/2 ish hour long car ride to our hotel in China. If all goes as scheduled, I’ll be laying in my oversized King bed by 11pm, up and running by 6am, and showered and fed by the 8AM car pick up to take us to the factory offices. 

That’s if all goes according to plan. I’ve learned life can rain wrenches and zing curve balls.

I had a day on Sunday that felt like a giant checklist. I managed to get every little thing done, (not without comedy, as yes, this is the life of CW, and yes, I’ll get there eventually in this blog). From the minute I woke up, to the minute I [tried] to fall asleep, there was a list on paper, as well as in my head, that gradually grew shorter throughout the day. I guess as I’m on the plane I’m realizing, it was actually  a true LIST. A list that included things I needed to buy, but also things I needed to do for myself. I still can’t figure out if this is healthy or unhealthy. Should we have to “check off” things that we want to do?  hmm.

I just watched Up in the Air. No, I’m not writing some blog on loneliness because I fear I’m destined to a life of air travel. While I do travel, I’m home way more and it’s a good balance and allows me to see the world. I guess you could say after this movie I’m yet again reflecting, as I seem to be in a month of reflecting. The ending of that movie was exactly what I needed; exactly and precisely.  While everyone’s feedback to me was, “it does NOT end well; not like you’d think it would,” I don’t disagree with them, but it ended how I needed it to. 

I started off Sunday morning on a schedule. I’d forgotten we spring our clocks an hour forward, so when my blackberry was 10:30 and my alarm clock was 9:30 I realized I was already an hour behind. While thankful I’d actually finally slept in (woke up like clockwork at 6:30AM saturday even after a 2AM to bed time after one too many glasses of wine Friday night), I jumped out of bed in a rush because I’d met a new friend via a friend on Friday night. No, not a tall, dark and handsome boy with kind eyes and bones with marrow of integrity, but instead a really cool girl who seemed to be in a similar place to me in life, and we just totally hit it off. We joked over wine that even though we were tipsy, we really mean it that we need to hang out, and Saturday afternoon she invited me over for green pancakes and eggs Sunday morning. Knowing I had a lot to do before I left for a two plus week long trip, I’ve learned through my experiences of two big moves in my twenties, you have to seize an open window with a new friend when it’s there, regardless of the checklist....

So I jumped in the shower - neglecting to call my boss as we’d agreed to check in prior to my Asia trip. I made it to my new friend’s place (I was only lost for 10 minutes). We had pancakes, (they) drank mimosas, and we sat on the couch and laughed. It wasn’t rushed, it wasn’t a planned morning. We just sat. I left her place with the genuine feeling that I have a new, real, friend to go grab a drink with, a friend to peruse Newbury Street in springtime, and a friend to brave the Warren Tavern on a Wednesday when the time is right. Post pancakes, I fled to the mall to exchange some ipod headphones that I realized were still under warranty - saved $80 - check! I went to the gym to run 5 miles easy on the treadmill (I hate the treadmill, but the monsoon was upon us), and our company is in a movement challenge and the scores are kept by floor, I’ll be damned if I don’t run at least 40ish miles per week and go to a few yoga classes... and yes, my floor is winning. I swung into a Starbucks, bought 2 boxes of instant coffee for my early mornings in China, and made my way downtown - miraculously finding a parking spot on the street directly across from the yoga studio that I’d promised I’d make one more stop by for a bikram class prior to a 2 week International hiatus.

With time to spare, I decided to run into Lulu Lemon at the mall. While I am all about traveling comfortable, I’d be in my first business class seat (this is ridiculous as I type this by the way) and so I wanted to treat myself to some comfortable, flattering yoga pants because seriously, this is why girls love LuLu Lemon. Now, friends and/or random readers (if there are any loyal ones out there, feel free to comment - as I too am a blog stalker), this is where my Curb Your Enthusiasm Life makes sure to infiltrate itself into a normal day.

You could say I’m trying to recover from an “equation” that I am still having a hard time processing. That I’m still in disbelief I ever believed even a little bit of, and that I’m waiting for the time to pass where I can look back and go, “ah ha, yes, I learned this and that and blah blah blah.” So, said day has not yet happened. In an effort to speed up arrival of said day,  I am trying to meet more people. So I went on a date. I went on a date with someone I didn’t know... that I was sort of, eh hem, set up with. The date was fine. Nice - Check. Seemingly Smart - Check. Seems like a good person - Check. However, there was nothing there; I wasn’t even expecting something there, I just wanted to do it. So I have this date. The week following there are a few texts, I delay responses, answer short and then.... then I get it, an email. A revealing, innocent, very kind email from this oh-so-good-person. In my rush of life, I did not write back....... [insert sincere regret].

I run into Lulu Lemon; I have 23 minutes calculated to find, try on, and buy the perfect pair of cute flattering yoga pants to travel in and still make it to Bikram with time to get a front row spot. (the dreaded checklist). I walk briskly in, and am greeted by....... hold your breath.......

my date.

yeah. the one who emailed me (really nice things) and who I never wrote back.

he works there. part-time. apparently.

Me: [Nameeee], Hiiiiii. Thank you so much for your email, I’m so sorry I never wrote back..... It was really sweet what you wrote, I’ve just been so frazzled with my schedule.

Him: Oh no big deal, I debated on hitting send..... but I never work Sundays, how did you know I was here?

Me: Oh, umm, I mean I didn’t know you were here; I actually need pants....
Him: Oh. Yeah, Right back there.
Me: (feeling terrible), Do you guys sell rain jackets (in my head, wtf, you aren’t buying a rain jacket here Claire).

I proceed to go into the dressing room with 5 pairs of pants, text my friend Kay, and stare into the mirror with my mouth wide open. THIS IS YOUR LIFE, RIGHT NOW.

I go to yoga; continually referred to as “green” by the instructor as my neon green sports bra was utterly matchy matchy with my neon green mat (so not on purpose). I drive home, eat dinner, call my sisters, parents, talk to JennyB about running shoes and spikes, laugh and tell stories, and finish packing.....

I had a list.

And I checked it all off.

I suppose I’ll confess that the ending of Up in the Air made me realize you really can’t control certain emotions, reactions, ways of seeing things. As literal or clear as things seem to be, when actions seem to trump those boundaires and understandings (in the good kind of way), we can’t always control how our soul responds, how our mind is able to be trumped by our inherent belief in something or someone.... to be something that they just aren’t.

And maybe... maybe when you can’t check that off a list.... that big thing that creates a giant lump in your throat.... well then maybe treadmills, bikram, green pancakes and ipod headphones under warranty are just fine to be able to.

x’s and o’s from up in the air,

cw


*editors note: it is 10:23PM Tuesday night in Dongguan, China. i'm about to hop in the shower, take a tylenol PM.... and, according to my checklist, i'll be in bed by 11 :)

Fried Green Tomatoes.

TAWANDA.

for real.
that is all.

xo,
cw

twizzlers and dusty quarters.

i work on the 5th floor at my job. there is a vending machine on the 1st floor. this is a day that started out with a 6:30AM video conference with Japan, and included wolfing down a ham and provolone sandwich at my desk in between mayhem, (there's a miniscule piece of tomato stuck between the 'K' and 'L' button).

prior to a 3pm meeting, i needed a snack.
i wanted something sweet.

i rushed down to the 1st floor. (this is a big building), and with 75 cents in my pocket i was met with no item less than 80 cents. really!?!?

i stood there. i didn't have time to go back up, come back down, and not be late for my meeting for the obvious reason i needed something sweet.

i was thinking quickly. i checked the change slots to see if maybe someone left a nickle. nope. hmm. wait, what if.... so i crouched down, and there it was, a circle about 2 feet under the vending machine. i reached, slid it toward me, and got it. a once shiny, but now dusty quarter.

i bought my 80 cent twizzlers and even had 2 dimes to put into the back of my skinny jeans pocket.
sometimes its the little things life gives us. and i'll take it with a smile.

xo,
cw

sometimes its worth the price.

i got a parking ticket yesterday after bikram yoga.
nobody likes that stinging feeling of knowing your meter ran out and, what the fresh toast, i've been caught! unlike other parking tickets i've gotten, i have to say the stinging feeling wasn't quite there...

normally when i go to bikram my timing must be calculated. i get there 10 minutes at the start of class to i can get front row with my mat, or at least a semi-desirable place. i usually take 3-4ish minutes to walk there depending on where i find my parking spot, and with a 90 minute class, the 3-4ish minutes to walk back, plus the intense hurry to wash the face and change out of a sports bra and yoga shorts that are soaking wet, i am usually RIGHT at the 2 hr max of parking and make a mad dash back to my car.

yesterday was different. i finished class, walked downstairs, and was met by the instructor saying (and quite genuinely), "you. are. getting. SO. good".

i know the instructors are known for their encouragement, one of the beautiful things about yoga to me.... but i have to say, i needed to hear that, and i believed her. i thanked her and she challenged me to not bring the extra towel to wipe some of the sweat, to just let it roll. she said i'm 'there' and shouldn't use it as a crutch anymore. (i sweat like bigfoot would during a marathon).

after changing and washing my face quickly in the locker room, i was getting ready to leave and a girl stopped me. "did you run at JMU?" i told her yes, and she told me she remembered me and that she played lacrosse. she said, "you were always icing and laughing in the hallway outside the locker room." i was so excited to meet her, and admittedly, i needed this too. we hit it off, laughed, talked about how we look our absolute ugliest after a bikram yoga class, and we exchanged information.  her husband also works in the sporting goods industry which is what brought them to boston, and she has a 3 month old (with the same name as my sister), and doesn't know a lot of people here. i told her i'd been here a year, and its pretty hard. she laughed and said for 6 months straight all she did was drink champagne on the couch, and then she got pregnant so there that hobby went.

it was 2 little interactions that were just what i needed.

i smiled leaving class, made a mad dash to my car and was anticipating the great feeling of relief that my jasmine jetta was spared. she wasn't, and had a bright orange rectangular greeting card waiting for me under her windshield wiper. but you know what? it just didn't sting that much.

namaste.
xo,
cw

the remnants of bangs.

my dear friend Kay shared with me a blog written by one of her friends to herself from a better version of herself. i cannot even remotely take credit for the idea, but i was so inspired by this girl's letter to younger self that i decided to be a copycat and write one to my younger self too. like her, i will not write a dramatic explanation to defend my reasons, but i'll just do it.

dear 18 year old claire,
you're a senior in high school; you stare at those remnants of bangs in the mirror every morning. those wisps of hair that are taking longer to grow out that it did for the neanderthal to evolve into man. emily will get her license this summer (mom and dad admit in 5 years that delaying her license as punishment for the whole "not responsible with her braces thing" was not the way to go), but just so you know, she's using your license and driving the oldsmobile to see buddy teschner anyway. Oh yeah, she and megan also guessed your passcode (supernovaclassic) for desktop publishing and they're copying all of your work. you'll find this out end of the school year and you'll just laugh.

anyway claire - killer field hockey season. you're coming off being selected 1st team all district, and 1st team all region and MVP of the oakton high school field hockey team. you'll make a recruiting video with coach ersham and you'll wear your favorite orange adidas pullover as you talk about yourself as a center midfielder, (bad choice, doesn't look good on camera and yeah, those random bangs were indeed as bad as you thought they were). right now you think you'll play field hockey in college, but you won't. you'll run in college, graduating with all of your teeth and probably a much smaller butt than you would've left with had you played hockey. you don't even end up choosing where you to go college until after the AP exams this spring. yes, you waited that long to make a decision and totally stressed dad out, but you do get a 5 out of 5 on English (i know, mom was shocked too), but a 2 out of 5 on Government. this is because you sit next to adam king, who you end up going to prom with but megan makes out with, but only because you go home right after prom due to the fact that by may your crush on him wears off.  (i know you don't believe me).

back to college - i know you love field hockey, but you think you can be an okay runner after a breakthrough in April this year as a senior, and you actually end up turning full blown runner girl. i promise you actually get fairly fast, but you basically suck until your junior year of college. i know, seems like forever, but leading up to it you have some pretty ridiculous injuries, shed an enormous amount of tears, but know in your heart you want to do this and because of who you are, you believe in yourself. you deal with a stress fracture in your femur, the shingles (yeah, david letterman gets them the same year you do), ridiculous achilles tendonitis, and overall being unfit because when you're that hurt, you get out of shape. also, your freshman year dhall changes the frozen yogurt machine mix to actual custard, and you're eating way too much of it. i also know this warning will do nothing, because you'll do it anyway, but stop it with the fake cappucino machines 8x a day. you get 4 cavities from it by sophomore year.

you finally stay healthy and summer of 2002, going into the fall are finally injury free and logging consistent mileage and your body is just changing. you've never run like this, and its new. and you're good at it. you're 3rd at the time trial, running workouts with the All-American on the team, PRing out of your mind, and loving every second of it. because of this, the pressure will get to you; your teammates going through a hard time will accuse you of not being healthy. you'll have an emotional breakdown running the lollipop loop at Dayton (7 mile tempo run where the smell will cause everyone's gag reflex to kick in), and you'll start counting calories and realize you're eating at least 4,000 a day, (not to mention a bag of swedish fish after every race). you're going to pretty much have to go the bathroom during every workout day though because this kind of running is a shock to your system, but your coach learns this and works with the school to have the bathrooms unlocked by the track. any embarrassment is curbed by your sense of humor, and you still look back at this and sort of laugh. you'll feel bad for your friends who went through such a hard time with the pressure of college running and you'll be able to talk about it as adults. but every time you eat a swedish fish, you'll think back to when you were 106 lbs and had the metabolism of a deer.

collegiate running will be one of the most memorable times of your life. you'll have workouts with teammates you never forget, share stories during easy runs in the Arb, extended Watertown, and on Llama loop that will stay with you even 10 years later. you make a bond with these people that is unbreakable. you'll compare yourself to the runner you used to be (and you still do), and i need to let you know that you'll have a really hard time letting it go. you'll almost take out a vomit-inducing mega student loan to run the remainder of your eligibility under an amazing coach who makes you believe he can take you from good to great. this is all shattered when the Athletic Director at West Point successfully petitions the league against your eligibility since you were not in the conference undergrad, and because this is unfair to military schools who have no grad programs to attract athletes with eligibility left. Ironically, West Point is where you completely eff your knee up on a cool down senior year that would have your heart burning to keep running and apply to grad school in the first place. even more ironic, the 3rd time "West Point" punches you in the stomach, won't be until 10 years later... but like the other two times, you heart will hurt, but you'll learn an incredible amount.... i promise you this.

you keep running but get a real job, and its a blessing in disguise. you'll get over it and realize you never really wanted to go to grad school. in fact, 10 years from now, you won't even remember the exact name of the graduate program you not only got into, but convinced your parents in an academy award winning speech that you were passionate about enrolling in. but this sudden twist to the plot and heartwrenching change of plans will ignite your career path in the way it was supposed to, and might not seem like it for the first two years.

these first two years of finding your in the working world are really tough, and you're going to be pretty lonely. you'll have a job where you drive around all day and sleep in hotels, evangelizing running shoes and brand personality to staff at dicks sporting goods and the finish line. for the first year you have to wear a polo shirt too... (i know, adds insult to injury). Because you grew up working in running stores, you hate this. you hate these people, and are too young and immature to see they are good people, just not the "mold" where you came from and are still really important to the business. you'll be a mariott "guest of the day" far too many times, and each time met with confusion because at 23 you still look 17. you'll be frustrated by the unfulfilled feelings you have at the end of each day in this job, and one time you actually drive three hours to a Dicks Sporting Goods in Princeton, NJ, but you can't get out of the car. you have some sort of weird panic attack that makes you freeze in the parking lot, and you actually never go in, but instead go to panera, set up your laptop and wipe tears over a bagel with strawberry creme cheese. you then go do 400 repeats on the Princeton University track. with the exception of that pathetic story, (which you pretty much should've been fired for), you work really hard because that's what you do.  i can tell you this, you'll stand out. you'll be noticed by a lot of people, including a very well respected man in a big big job who will intersect with you only briefly, but will immensely impact the path you journey down. he'll take a chance on you for a big job when you're only 24, and he'll tell all the doubters the reason he hired you.

his reason. "i can teach her the job but you can't teach spark."
those words will stick with you forever. in tough times, in upsetting times, you'll remember that. you'll cling onto those words at the oddest times, even years after they were spoken.

you'll spend three-ish years in seattle. you'll learn so much, have to carry the torch through another mentor resigning, and its here where you really start to make a name for yourself. but deep down you know how important your incredible family is to you, and that being so far away isn't something that can be permanent. you're going to learn utter tragedy for the first time, when a friend is quickly taken away while you're overseas. you won't talk about it all the time, but you'll think about it all the time, because you and this girl hit it off so well, and she left an imprint on you. you think of Liz when people are careless with others, because Liz showed you how suddenly something can change, and while it was so tragic, you know she left the earth on good terms with everybody because she was just one of those people.

you'll have your first "long" relationship, which was totally wrong the whole time. you sort of know it, but you're young, you're new in a city with gray skies and a lot of rain, and you stay comfortable. there is a night on your bedroom floor over the holidays with your two sisters sobbing and explaining their concern of this "wrong" person. you scream so loud and awful that it causes your parents to cry. this is something you'll always remember, because even though you were young and its okay to be wrong and learn from it, you'll never forget how incredible your sisters are, even in moments that turn shockingly ugly. you don't have just a good family, you have a great family, and share genes with two other girls who are fantastic, rare, incredible people.

know that 10 years from now, you have absolutely incredible friends. the fox mill girls are still your best friends. that's right, the same girls who went through life since wee little 4 and 5 year olds are just as much in your life as they were those freezing mornings at swim practice when the coaches would throw you in the pool, those summer nights playing kick the can, and that day etched in your memory when four 9 year old's stood up for you on the blacktop when derek hamilton banned you from kickball, and called you acid girl making fun of your skin. you have each others backs, and though you're all in a different state with different lives and passions, you're locked in each other's hearts. you meet a girl working in the same running store you work in now at 18, (you end up running the place next summer and you'll have a situation where you pick up a pair of running shorts covered in urine), and she becomes one of your best friends too, your sister in running. you work college breaks and summers together, and probably eat $1,000 worth of harvest bars, but justify to each other that it compensates for low wage.  add to theses special friends a michigan girl you work with in seattle, who you might not see all the time but your every-other-day phone calls makes it seem like you do. you'll meet twins by happenstance at a marathon expo, and while their life adventures take them elsewhere, you know they are life keepers too. as i write this to you, younger claire, you're not married. you're not even close, but you wonder about your wedding day. 8 bridesmaids is a lot, but you'll cross that bridge when you get there and 2 girls can always walk down the isle with 1 guy anyway.

you leave seattle for boston january 22nd, 2009. its a dramatic resignation, as the CFO of your company reacts so poorly that the CEO and HR spend hours calling you the next day. though you had to throw away contact lenses you stayed professional in your frye boots (you own 2 pair), and you didn't burn any bridges. its terribly traumatic moving somewhere new again, without a group, without a foundation but i promise that you end up loving boston. you adore your new boss and mentor, (who was best friends with your two old bosses), but frequently remind him that this is why there are no women in the running shoe industry, as moving is emotionally scarring. that said, you moved for the right decisions, to be on the same coast as the fam, and to be instrumental in changing something big, to be a part of something amazing and where you can put your passions and energy into. you'll be thrilled with where your career is going and what you're learning; despite frustrations and normal stress that comes with jobs, and you'll see amazing parts of the world through the eyelits of a running shoe. on days where you're really lonely and wishing the fox mill girls still lived down the street, wishing you could tell stories with dorothy on her moms couch for hours, or watch 3 hours of TV with jen and laugh so hard you don't make a noise.... days like that, you wonder if this whole career thing has been worth it.

to make matters worse claire, about 10 years from now you'll have your first heartbreak. i know, you make it a long time right? while you have massive insecurities you actually end up breaking a few hearts yourself. you never talk about guys with mom and dad, but they'd be proud to know you're a good person about it, never do anything wrong, you just aren't with the right people and when you know, you end it. when you move to boston you think you meet someone pretty significant. it's about a year of a rollercoaster.... a few different kinds, and it takes you a while to realize this is utterly unjustifiable. the person had some kind of affect on you though that you might never figure out, some sort of "hook" that would reel you back in and make you think that it's really happening this time, the start of something normal. it never did happen, and it basically crushes you. maybe our 29 year old self will be able to see the situation more clear, but we don't know that yet.

while i write this to you wishing i had the above paragraph figured out, i don't. i know at 18 you think you'll of course be married at 28. you're not. i know, you've never cared about all the planning, and the wedding stuff, but you looked at 28 as pretty grown up. at 28 we are pretty grown up, but we still have a lot to learn about life.  i have to tell you that at 18 i don't think you realize how lucky you are to have the sisters that you do. while emily is your twin, there are ebbs and flows in life when you're sort of each other's protector. audrey isn't your weird, bossy, controlling sister, she's your big sister, who recognizes how great you are and tells you how endearing you are to people and that when you step back from a situation and have given a piece of yourself to someone else, and can honestly say you didn't get a piece back, well then its just not fair for her little sister.

mom and dad still worry about all of us, and they'll have that 1980's tile kitchen until 2009. dad's paranoia of appliances being left on is also passed down to you via learned habits, and you waste about 5 minutes every morning going back into the various apartments you live in to double check the hair straightener. mom still sings that "heaven...i'm in heaven" song each time she tries a delicious food, and whenever you hear this song on a tv commercial your heart smiles really big.

you sort of realize it at 18, but i can tell you 10 years from now you'll see that you have the kind of parents that take your breath away. you'll get older and want to do things for your parents. excel at a career not only because you love it, but because they love watching, find a guy not just because you want one, but so that your parents can be happy knowing you'll be safe. you'll realize they gave their whole lives for you, emily, and audrey, and that they are so, so proud of you. this spring dad will come to the track meet at chantilly even when you begged him not to, because yes, you have to run the 2 mile and you suck at anything longer than the 800. you'll see his indiana jones hat sticking up behind the bleachers because he's hiding. you're going to be really annoyed and upset, but when you get older you realize how memorable of a moment this was. you come from two people who would move the earth if it meant not missing a single moment.

well i've written a long letter. i'm sure at 18 your patience has run thin, you're in a fight with emily on who gets to be on instant messenger, and you decided yet again to postpone your spanish homework until right before class during lunch period. don't worry, you somehow ace every single vocabulary test, due to your absurd system of remembering what the spanish words means (shoulder = el hombro, which you remember by thinking 'an umbro sports bra goes over the shoulder').

at 28 you don't have life figured out. you feel great about your career and you've landed with 2 feet on the ground but you're ready for the personal life part and it hasn't happened yet. you've seen hard times, you've been through quite a bit for 28, and you have heaps of perspective. i will tell you the most important thing you need to know is this: while life will throw you plenty of curve balls these next 10 years... it becomes apparent to you as you grow up that rarely do people know what it feels like to have a safety net that travels under them as they move along the tightrope of life.

know that you not only do have one, but its enormous and sturdy as hell.

xoxo,
claire