Stuff I Write #1: It Takes Guts to Share

I wrote this a few weeks ago, inspired by a friend who shared a piece of her own writing, and debated for quite some time about sharing it here. I know that I blog, and share so much of life, but there is also a lot that I would never write here. Because it would hurt people, because there are always two sides to a story, and because not everything needs to be in print.

Lately though, I've been breathing sighs of relief and feeling that the next chapter in my life is here. I've always been open and honest but now I am trying to kick the shit out of life every day. So why not share what I've written and then leave it out there for others to read. And really let it free to disappear.

So, today, I bring you (with a lot of nerves and bravery):

The Same Old Story

I wear old t-shirts to bed imagining the smell of you.

They may have been washed nearly fifty times or more,

threads spinning wildly in the machine,

each delicate cycle creating suds where you used to be.

And when I slip a shirt over my chest,

it's baggy way of being feels like your body.

On top of mine. Again.

Suddenly, it is easy to remember the nooks and crannies of our bodies,

side by side, together, on our bed.

Reading and laughing as the rain finally came to a stop.

And then I can see my hand, gripping for more,

my heart pausing each time you pull away,

reach for the laundry, slip a shirt over your head and tell me--

"No, not tonight."

So, what do you think? What about your readers, is there something you do that is really hard to share with the world?

Stories #1: Choose My Own Adventure

So I have been obsessing over Ernest Hemingway as of recent. It was The Paris Wife that got me started; a love story that is raw and true and shows that sometimes love just isn't enough.

I love this blog. It's a place where I can write relatively freely and it's been the best creative project I've started in years. But it has also been a push for me to get back to my writing roots. I used to be very concerned about what people thought about my written words. And I stopped writing. I would sometimes write in blank journals gifted to me by friends and family. But even that stopped too.


But now, I find myself wanting to write more and more. And I'm trying to take Hemingway's advice to write "one true thing" every day. If I start with that simple advice, then writing more doesn't seem too daunting. And so, this is my way of challenging myself.


I'm trying to pledge to post 2 true things every Monday, then have you dear readers, choose which story you'd like to hear. A bit of creative non-fiction, a truth turned into a story or some other piece. And then, on the following Monday, I'll post my final story. Maybe you'll hate it, maybe you'll love it. Maybe it doesn't matter. But sometimes I need pushed to do things that are the hardest.


So here are the first choices in the Choose My Own Adventure Monday. You can vote or leave a comment. And then wait for the story to be told in a week. I'm pretty excited & hope you stick with me.

Story # 1

Photo Found here.

I'm a Pittsburgh girl at heart. This place is my home, I bleed black & gold and I am proud of this city along our three rivers. But I have a not-so-secret secret: I wasn't always this way.

And I don't know what it is about our beloved Steelers winning another AFC Championship & heading off for a chance to win their *7th* Super Bowl victory, but it has me thinking about my long, sometimes troubled, love affair with Pittsburgh.

One of my earliest memories is that of Sunday afternoons, extended family gathered round watching football. I remember I had a Steelers black & gold dress and pompoms. And since it was my then 3 year-old dream to become a cheerleader when I grew up I remember being devastated when I found out the Steelers didn't have a cheerleading squad. I actually remember thinking to myself, "Well, I'll change that." Because I was a go-getter with big dreams even at three.

I remember my parents taking me to the Carnegie Museum and wandering the long hallways of birds. What young girl wants to go to the museum just to look at stuffed birds, shoved into a narrow hallway almost an afterthought, from the turn of the century? This one. And, actually, it's still one of my favorite parts of the museum.

And of course, I remember afternoon trips to the library. We lived in Brookline when I was a little girl and gloriously, in walking distance of the Brookline branch of the Carnegie Library. I'm not exaggerating when I said that we went every day. My heart broke when we moved to the suburbs, not because I was leaving friends and the familiar behind, but because my neighborhood did not have a library. And wouldn't actually, until my early love with Pittsburgh was wearing thin and I was on my way to college.

But then I grew up. And the small town feel of Pittsburgh just wasn't cutting it for me. I wanted out, thought I'd go away for college & never come back. In fact, I got into all of the colleges I applied to and the one I ended up attending (just a mere 1.5 hour north) was at the bottom of my choices. But what ended up being a twist of fate, scholarships, grants and financial aid led me to the most expensive school on my list and the best decision I ever made.

And the whole time I still thought there was no way I was going to end up in Pittsburgh. Throughout school, even though I had a fierce love of reading, librarian wasn't even on my radar as career option. If you would have told me at 12, 17 or 22 that I would be a librarian in Allegheny County...I would have laughed in your face. And yet, here we are....

There is more to my passionate Pittsburgh love affair, but I really view it in different chapters, so the other parts will come later.

But for tonight, I'm just going to remember that I love it here. I love the neighborly attitude, I love the eclectic group of people, I love our sports teams & I love that the people I love are here. And I'm remembering to keep that close to heart, even when I start thinking of greener pastures.

So, lovies, what is your most early memory of Pgh?