tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13550722111694808012024-03-12T21:46:27.877-07:00366 to 30Reston Stylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01723093649032724236noreply@blogger.comBlogger26125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355072211169480801.post-990774253682908172012-03-09T12:42:00.000-08:002012-03-09T12:42:20.282-08:00from 366 to 59... 59 days to 30I seriously can't believe I have less than 2 months left in my 29th year.<br />
<br />
I was upset when I started this blog. I thought that I needed something amazing or profound to happen before I turned 30, but now, I think I have realized that I just need to love.<br />
<br />
My iPod has a mind of its own, and for a while it seemed that every time I put it on, James Taylor's song <i>Shower the people you love with love</i> came on. I think it was the universe trying to tell me that I didn't need to censor myself. I needed to just show the people I love in my life that I love them, and things would work out fine.<br />
<br />
59 days. It's pretty amazing.<br />
<br />
Even more amazing, it's not the end of my 20's, but the beginning of my 30's.<br />
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I can't wait!Reston Stylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01723093649032724236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355072211169480801.post-11890579812475697232011-10-04T12:41:00.000-07:002011-10-04T12:41:59.199-07:00lessonsI have always had to learn lessons the hard way. Luckily it's not the hardest way, I leave that to my sister, but I still don't choose the easy path when it comes to things. I am stubborn. I hold true to the bull headed Taurus.<br />
<br />
The funny thing about learning lessons is that sometimes you only learn them when it's too late. Reston Stylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01723093649032724236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355072211169480801.post-36899332101874676332011-09-07T09:04:00.001-07:002011-09-07T09:04:02.972-07:00listsI actually really like making lists. I like being able to check off tasks as I complete them and track all the awesome things I am able to accomplish! I have toyed with the idea of making a list of things to complete before I turn 30... but with only 243 days left, I'm afraid.<br />
<br />
I'm scared that I'll fail to accomplish things, I'm scared to add the really important things, and I'm scared that I'll look back on my list in a few years and think that it's dumb. (yes, I am scared that future me will judge past me)<br />
<br />
But maybe that's because 243 days doesn't seem like long enough to accomplish my goals... or maybe I already have accomplished some things, and I'm too scared to admit them. Reston Stylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01723093649032724236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355072211169480801.post-9762037640227785482011-09-01T12:42:00.000-07:002011-09-01T12:42:26.409-07:00no one ever mentions the hard workWhen you're told to follow your dreams, no one ever mentions that you also have to work really, really hard. And that sometimes you don't even know where to start. That, actually is less of a problem than starting somewhere and then not knowing where to go next.<br />
<br />
I'm not exactly sure that I don't know where to go... I think I am just afraid of doing it. I mean, I have figured out some things, and I think that there are more that I will learn on the fly from experience, so now I've just got to do it. Problem is, I feel more like a scared 5 year old on the first day of school than someone who is 250 days away from turning 30.<br />
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<br />Reston Stylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01723093649032724236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355072211169480801.post-34533089726728223782011-08-19T07:30:00.000-07:002011-08-19T07:30:11.322-07:00the art of speaking upSometimes when something bothers you, you're the only one that knows. You'd sound pretty whiney if you spoke up every time someone unintentionally hurt your feelings, but if you see that it's a pattern, maybe it's time to speak up.<br />
<br />
I get afraid when it comes to sharing how I feel about something. Sure, I don't have a problem asking for tangible things that I want. But when it comes to how I am being treated or how I feel about something, my first instinct is to keep quiet, pout to myself, and then try to move on. The problem here is when it happens again, and maybe even again, you start to get a little angry and worry that it <i>might</i> be intentional, even when rationally you know its not because you never spoke up in the first place.<br />
<br />
So, when something bothers you, find the right time to speak up and explain why it makes you feel the way it does. It makes life a lot easier, since most people aren't very good mind readers. <br />
Reston Stylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01723093649032724236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355072211169480801.post-25180010746051563112011-08-10T10:26:00.000-07:002011-08-29T17:28:55.715-07:00internal strength against external forcesI happen to think that I am pretty centered. I know who I am, I like that person, I am aware of my faults, and either except them or try to work on them. I happen to be pretty confident in my choices too. I don't always take the usual path, but I'm certain that the path I do take is the right one for me at the time. Most of the time, all is good, life is grand!<br />
<br />
What about the other times?<br />
<br />
Most covers a lot of the time, but sometimes I do let external things break through and get to me. And let me tell you, I am not always so great at handling things when that happens. I tend to think that people make decisions because they either don't like me, or they want to hurt me, or something, but in my slightly self centered brain, it has to do with me (yes, I do think that I am slightly self centered, but I count it as both a strength and a fault). But the truth of the matter is, everyone is slightly self centered, and when people make decisions about things, they are generally doing them from a place of self, and generally has very little to do with their feelings about me.<br />
<br />
The big problem here is that once there is that once I let just a little bit of doubt in, I tend to doubt everything and my brain spirals from there. Questioning everything that I do that might be a bit unique, off the beaten path, and outside of what most people would consider normal. And this doubtful questioning isn't from a rational place of re-evaluation, it's from an emotional place. It's that insecure girl that decided to fake confidence one day that still lives inside the confident person that she grew into. (yes people, fake it till you make it works! As do positive affirmations and self praise)<br />
<br />
Yesterday I broke. I heard something that was said to me in a way that it wasn't meant. It was like it pulled at a thread of my sweater, and from there the sweater just unraveled completely until I had time to really digest the whole situation over a run. Running really is therapy, though it helps to have some amazingly supportive running buddies.<br />
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This post is half a reminder to my self to not take everything so personally, to be confident in the choices that I make that work for my life, and to remember that I can be as strong on the inside as I appear on the outside, I just need to work on it, and maybe half an apology.<br />
Reston Stylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01723093649032724236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355072211169480801.post-79147596048574733242011-08-05T07:59:00.000-07:002011-08-05T07:59:48.953-07:00the art of asking for what you wantMy mom gave me a hard time a couple of months ago because I asked to borrow her car for a date (I was later bailed on and the date never happened, it was all for the best and that point is moot). Anyway, my mom couldn't believe that I asked. She thought that I was putting her in the position where she had to turn me down and then felt like I had guilted her into feeling bad. I kinda saw her point and felt bad that she felt bad (oh no, are we entering a guilt spiral!), but only because she felt bad.<br />
<br />
I explained to my mom that rather than wishing I could borrow her car, I decided to ask. No one ever gets what they want by wishing. You get things by asking for them. I was fully prepared that she was going to say no, but the risk was worth it on the outside chance that she might say yet. Now, this only works if you are prepared to hear the word <i>'NO'</i>. And if you really want something, you have to be clear about your wants and expectations, and be willing to compromise. <br />
<br />
It's worth taking the risk of asking for what you want sometimes. Because, sure, my mom said no when I wanted to borrow her convertible for a date, but she said yes when I asked to drive it over Memorial Day weekend! Though, she wanted to borrow my car then... ;)Reston Stylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01723093649032724236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355072211169480801.post-48900351796240468392011-08-02T12:09:00.000-07:002011-08-02T12:09:20.240-07:00it's starting to look like a grown up lives here...I recently got a new bed. By recently, I mean 2 days ago. And by got, I mean that my neighbor bought it and traded me for my four poster bed. I really like my new bed frame and the way my room looks now!<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/missylizzylucy/6002140033/" title="DSC_0061 by lizbadley, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6004/6002140033_be55b687aa_z.jpg" width="640" height="425" alt="DSC_0061"></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/missylizzylucy/6002686898/" title="DSC_0056 by lizbadley, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6134/6002686898_a32f3637f6_z.jpg" width="640" height="425" alt="DSC_0056"></a></center><br />
<br />
I picked up the mirrors at Home Depot yesterday for $5 for a set of four. They were marked down from $19.99 per set! I think I need to do something more to the wall, but I think it's a great start. I mean, first <a href="http://366to30.blogspot.com/2011/05/two.html">keeping my room clean</a> was the mission, now it's time to live in style!Reston Stylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01723093649032724236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355072211169480801.post-46864229945427112352011-08-01T06:57:00.000-07:002011-08-01T07:03:23.110-07:00Book Report: 'The Art of Racing in the Rain'<center><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Art-Racing-Rain-Novel/dp/0061537969?ie=UTF8&tag=RestonStyle&link_code=btl&camp=213689&creative=392969" target="_blank"><img height="500" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nfbK4kPtNBU/TBBInGWxAOI/AAAAAAAAA3g/ibwg8OgWxDs/s1600/The+Art+of+Racing.jpg" /></a></center><br />
<br />
author: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Art-Racing-Rain-Novel/dp/0061537969?ie=UTF8&tag=RestonStyle&link_code=btl&camp=213689&creative=392969" target="_blank">Garth Stein</a><img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=RestonStyle&l=btl&camp=213689&creative=392969&o=1&a=0061537969" style="border: none !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" width="1" /><br />
recommended by : Michelle, food blogger at <a href="http://thatssomichelle.blogspot.com/">http://thatssomichelle.blogspot.com</a><br />
<br />
I love dogs and this book totally appeals to the dog lover in me just with its cover art! The entire story is being told from the dog's (Enzo) perspective, and at first it seems cute and novel. But as you get into the book you think of Enzo as more than just a dog. It's an easy read that isn't simple in the slightest. I know I'm being vague, but the story is so good and I enjoyed reading it so much, that I wouldn't want to take that experience away from anyone! Not only is the interpersonal story just wonderfully emotional, tugging at all the right heart strings, but the auto racing parts are interesting and different! This is a book I wish I could read for the first time again!<br />
<br />
<br />
A must read! <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Art-Racing-Rain-Novel/dp/0061537969?ie=UTF8&tag=RestonStyle&link_code=btl&camp=213689&creative=392969" target="_blank">The Art of Racing in the Rain</a><img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=RestonStyle&l=btl&camp=213689&creative=392969&o=1&a=0061537969" style="border: none !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" width="1" />Reston Stylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01723093649032724236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355072211169480801.post-40953990810868504042011-07-27T11:35:00.000-07:002011-07-27T11:35:47.719-07:00when did that happen?I find myself saying things like <i>I don't cook, I'm not a good cook, I don't really know how to cook </i>all the time. But I am not so sure that is exactly true. In fact... it may be a straight up lie. I realized it when I was making dinner two weeks ago and prepping for dinner for a picnik. I said "look at all this food, and from someone who doesn't know how to cook." I was met with the reply that apparently I do know how to cook, and a compliment at the end that it was delicious.<br />
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We enjoyed what we ate and no one got food poisoning... so maybe I should start giving myself credit for the things I can do. <br />
<br />
"Do or do not, there is no try" - YodaReston Stylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01723093649032724236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355072211169480801.post-59661262877620152412011-07-07T13:19:00.000-07:002011-07-07T13:19:08.486-07:00time fliesThey say that time flies when you're having fun, but I actually think that the opposite is true and time flies when you are living life. You know, you wake up on Monday, go to work, come home, unload the dishwasher, do a load of laundry, grocery shop, and before you know it, it's Thursday afternoon. The next day you sing Rebecca Black's song, Friday, while you get ready for work, and when 5pm hits, you're ready to party.<br />
<br />
It seems like regular weeks just fly by.<br />
<br />
But for some reason, vacations seem to last forever. Well, they seem to last forever until they are over.<br />
<br />
My 4-day weekend seemed to last forever, until yesterday when I was wishing it had been a little longer. But this week has seemed to fly by and now my trip to Europe is right around the corner! But in my classic fashion, the next 6 days are jam-packed with work and fun!Reston Stylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01723093649032724236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355072211169480801.post-71443579363821643402011-06-28T08:12:00.000-07:002011-06-28T08:12:35.947-07:00windmillMy mom is the second youngest of seven kids (Irish Catholic). She tells a lot of funny stories about growing up and it seems she has a silly name or story about nearly everything. We have a name for the space between two couch cushions (or between a bed and a wall or headboard), the paplukie hole (also see kerplukie hole as my cousins pronounce it); I have the privilege of knowing what a 'watch bird' is; and I know never to 'Jean the bowl' when baking. But most of all, I have a name for the tall glass of cold water that you crave the morning after staying up a bit too late and possibly drinking a bit too much.<br />
<br />
That's right, it's a 'windmill'.<br />
<br />
Apparently when you are the second youngest in a family of seven, it means that you are the willing slave to the eldest. So my mom's oldest brother, who was in high school at the time, would ask his elementary school aged sister to bring him a windmill on weekend mornings. Just for reference, my mom also calls a glass of ice water CIWITW - coldest ice water in the world.Reston Stylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01723093649032724236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355072211169480801.post-75202739892106640022011-06-20T08:21:00.000-07:002011-06-20T08:21:06.711-07:00B3My sister and I got my dad a beta fish for fathers day and gave it to him on Saturday. It was a great gift because a few years ago my dad had a beta fish that he referred to as our "little brother" and he brought with him in the cup holder of his car when he came to visit us. Even though it was less than ten years ago, he didn't remember doing that when we told him the story. Never the less, we remembered his silliness and wanted him to enjoy fish ownership again.<br />
<br />
So I went to visit my parents on Sunday afternoon and my dad preceded to show me B3's new trick - grabbing the tip of a chopstick. He went on a on about how he was going to have to figure out either a)how to bring him to England in July or b)fish sitter accommodations. I informed him that I had a beta that stayed alive for 2 months even though I ignored it and that he would be fine for 10 days. Never the less, if you know a good fish sitter, my parents are looking for one.Reston Stylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01723093649032724236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355072211169480801.post-57687418195489482592011-06-10T12:00:00.000-07:002011-06-10T12:03:48.321-07:00being an auntie333 days until 30 and today I became an auntie again! I have a brand new nephew, so new in fact, that I don't even know his name yet. His mother is my sister by choice, we are not blood related, but as far as I am concerned, you may choose who you call family. And if given a million choices, I would still only need one as far as she is concerned, she is my sister, her husband is my brother, and their son is my nephew!<br />
<br />
Being an auntie is my favorite job I have ever had. Rowan, my 5 year old nephew, will tell you that I am the best Auntie Lizzy ever! So when Erin told me that they were expecting a boy, I was over the moon! I mean, I have experience being an auntie to a nephew. It's like getting a promotion at work, where they only make you do the things you are already good at! Not that I don't think I wouldn't make an amazing auntie to a niece, I will, but there is just something so wonderful about having a nephew! And now I have two!!!Reston Stylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01723093649032724236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355072211169480801.post-64467559706902797602011-06-09T12:57:00.000-07:002011-06-09T12:57:58.906-07:00"don't get old"I started swimming laps more regularly to add some cross training to my marathon training schedule. Yesterday I went to swim some laps before teaching lessons and the 19 year old lifeguard, a friend of mine, asked why I would need to swim laps since I am already so tiny. I replied "I'm tiny because I swim and run, don't get old."<br />
<br />
A friend my age, Emily, mentioned that she had been going to morning swim at another pool, so this morning I headed there to punish myself a little more. We were talking with another 19 year old that was there swimming about having to work out more, needing surgeries for old athletic injuries, and the like. Her advice to this young swimmer was also "don't get old."<br />
<br />
It's absolutely impractical advice when you think about it. You don't have a choice, as time passes - you get older. I think what both Emily and I meant by "don't get old" was "make sure you take care of yourself, your body treats you the way you treat it, as you get older."<br />
<br />
But it's a lot funnier to just tell people "don't get old."Reston Stylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01723093649032724236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355072211169480801.post-90627930358736499922011-06-08T12:10:00.000-07:002011-06-08T12:10:51.747-07:00how to go on vaction in your own townI think it's important to like where you live. I certainly do. In fact, my style blog is named after Reston - Reston Style. Reston isn't a city or even a town. It's a place, a place called Reston. And I went on a staycation in Reston with my very dear friends over memorial day weekend. Here's how we did it:<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/missylizzylucy/5809007312/" title="Picnik collage by lizbadley, on Flickr"><img alt="Picnik collage" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5115/5809007312_babecc7ae2_z.jpg" width="600" /></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/missylizzylucy/5808591057/" title="Picnik collage by lizbadley, on Flickr"><img alt="Picnik collage" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2580/5808591057_a1c0b80e88_z.jpg" width="600" /></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/missylizzylucy/5809234638/" title="Picnik collage by lizbadley, on Flickr"><img alt="Picnik collage" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3224/5809234638_4cddc460a0_z.jpg" width="600" /></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/missylizzylucy/5812502436/" title="Picnik collage by lizbadley, on Flickr"><img alt="Picnik collage" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3392/5812502436_05f63de295_z.jpg" width="600" /></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/missylizzylucy/5812843630/" title="Picnik collage by lizbadley, on Flickr"><img alt="Picnik collage" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2095/5812843630_c1b2c026e3_z.jpg" width="600" /></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/missylizzylucy/5812066103/" title="Picnik collage by lizbadley, on Flickr"><img alt="Picnik collage" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5279/5812066103_0fb63d812a_z.jpg" width="600" /></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/missylizzylucy/5812668192/" title="Picnik collage by lizbadley, on Flickr"><img alt="Picnik collage" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2761/5812668192_cec50b84d1_z.jpg" width="600" /></a></center>Reston Stylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01723093649032724236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355072211169480801.post-49111285772083038902011-06-06T10:00:00.000-07:002011-06-06T10:03:09.280-07:00post-itsI love post-it notes. My favorites the <a target="_blank" href="http://www.amazon.com/Post-Super-Sticky-Notes-Assorted-90-Sheet/dp/B000YD1XNG?ie=UTF8&tag=RestonStyle&link_code=btl&camp=213689&creative=392969">super sticky square ones</a><img src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=RestonStyle&l=btl&camp=213689&creative=392969&o=1&a=B000YD1XNG" width="1" height="1" border="0" alt="" style="border:none !important; margin:0px !important; padding: 0px !important" /> with lines. Everyday at work I make a little check list of all the things I have to do that day using an <a target="_blank" href="http://www.amazon.com/Sharpie-Permanent-Markers-Colored-37600PP/dp/B00105ELEA?ie=UTF8&tag=RestonStyle&link_code=btl&camp=213689&creative=392969">ultra-fine sharpie</a><img src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=RestonStyle&l=btl&camp=213689&creative=392969&o=1&a=B00105ELEA" width="1" height="1" border="0" alt="" style="border:none !important; margin:0px !important; padding: 0px !important" /> and a super sticky post-it.<br />
<br />
I loved post-it notes so much as a kid that I begged for (and got) Doctor Barbie just because she came with a pad of mini post-it notes!<br />
<br />
It's not just <a target="_blank" href="http://www.amazon.com/Sharpie-Permanent-Marker-Assorted-Colors/dp/B003F0WU1Y?ie=UTF8&tag=RestonStyle&link_code=btl&camp=213689&creative=392969">sharpies</a><img src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=RestonStyle&l=btl&camp=213689&creative=392969&o=1&a=B003F0WU1Y" width="1" height="1" border="0" alt="" style="border:none !important; margin:0px !important; padding: 0px !important" /> and <a target="_blank" href="http://www.amazon.com/s/?ie=UTF8&tag=RestonStyle&link_code=btl&camp=213689&creative=392969&search-alias=aps&field-keywords=post-it">post-its</a><img src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=RestonStyle&l=btl&camp=213689&creative=392969&o=1&a=" width="1" height="1" border="0" alt="" style="border:none !important; margin:0px !important; padding: 0px !important" /> though. I have a deep affection for all things school/office supply related! I love little notebooks, stationary (though I don't write many letters anymore), stickers (did I mention I am 29 going on 8?), and I keep a paper calendar that update with colourful <a target="_blank" href="http://www.amazon.com/Paper-Mate-Point-Guard-Porous-Colored/dp/B000J09CO6?ie=UTF8&tag=RestonStyle&link_code=btl&camp=213689&creative=392969">papermate flare pens</a><img src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=RestonStyle&l=btl&camp=213689&creative=392969&o=1&a=B000J09CO6" width="1" height="1" border="0" alt="" style="border:none !important; margin:0px !important; padding: 0px !important" /> - they write like ultra fine sharpies without bleeding through!<br />
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Here's the proof:<br />
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<center><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-pWj5QQa9GGc/Te0HScrj_KI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/J4hN2EvUUKk/s800/calendar.JPG" width="600" /></center>Reston Stylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01723093649032724236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355072211169480801.post-89059506596964520292011-06-01T13:53:00.000-07:002011-06-01T13:53:01.491-07:00solar poweredI am fairly certain that I am solar powered. I spent the entire Memorial Day Weekend outdoors doing active things and I feel extremely rested. This seems to happen every summer.<br />
<br />
The only conclusion that I can come up with is that I am kindred with Superman and that Earth's yellow sun give me super energy in the summer.Reston Stylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01723093649032724236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355072211169480801.post-30460195441004362402011-05-26T12:56:00.000-07:002011-05-26T12:56:22.996-07:00be presentI wrote about this concept on my <a href="http://restonstyle.blogspot.com/2011/05/be-present.html">style blog</a>, but I kinda felt like I had more to say on it. 'Be Present' can me:<br />
<ul><li>be present and accounted for</li>
<li>be present in the moment and enjoy your life</li>
<li>be present, don't live in the past</li>
<li>be present, don't wait for the future</li>
<li>be present in your mind and body</li>
</ul>I just love that. More people have asked me today what my necklace means and I just love telling them. I can see the message get through to them, as it does to me. It's a great saying.<br />
<br />
I am working on being present. I need to be reminded quite often to stay calm and just enjoy things as they happen.<br />
<br />
348 days until I am 30, and I plan to be present through all of them!Reston Stylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01723093649032724236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355072211169480801.post-67833241309714464402011-05-17T10:07:00.000-07:002011-05-17T10:07:41.689-07:00who is this girl?Everyone said I was making a big deal out of nothing when it came to turning 29. I was told "it's just one more day" and "it's really no big deal." But 29 is already so different from before 29.<br />
<br />
Before turning 29:<br />
<ul><li>my room was a mess</li>
<li>my car was a mess</li>
<li>my training was inconsistent</li>
<li>I was afraid to share my feelings</li>
</ul>29 year old me has always:<br />
<ul><li>had a clean room</li>
<li>had a clean car</li>
<li>had a consistent training record</li>
<li>been able to share exactly what she is feeling with the people that she is close with</li>
</ul>Maybe 29 isn't so bad :)Reston Stylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01723093649032724236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355072211169480801.post-80781956540551064362011-05-13T17:09:00.000-07:002011-05-13T17:09:05.709-07:00adviceRon lives in my neighborhood that makes sure that people are parking correctly and that their tags and inspections are current on their cars. If you're in violation of one of our cluster parking rules, he leaves a post-it on your window. For that reason, a lot of people don't like him.<br />
<br />
But those people are wrong, they don't know the real Ron.<br />
<br />
I always stop to say hello and chat with Ron. He is knowledgeable and has a lot of great stories and insights on things. And I know the little bit of time I take out of my day to speak with him really brightens his.<br />
<br />
Today we were chatting and he brought up love and companionship. He offered me some thoughts on the subject and I found myself really valuing his insight. Then he let me know that his wife, Polly, had just passed. She had been ill with Parkinson's since the mid 80's and Ron had been her care giver. He would walk with her when she was able, and then push her in a wheelchair until she had been bed bound in 2007. On April 11th she refused to take her medication and told Ron that she wanted to die, on April 19th she ate her last food, and then passed on April 25th.<br />
<br />
Ron said that even though she had been gone for quite some time (the Parkinson's coupled with dementia) , he didn't realize her actual death would effect him so much. This made tears well up in both our eyes, but we also both smiled. I said that it meant that he had a good heart.<br />
<br />
I think I will always remember the advice that Ron gave me today, even though I am going to be a bit stingy for now and not share it.Reston Stylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01723093649032724236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355072211169480801.post-84780390642448876152011-05-12T11:22:00.000-07:002011-05-13T13:34:07.895-07:00how to pick your friendsThe last four digits of my phone number are the same as my best friend's birthday. That's pretty cool, right? It certainly makes it easy when I have to come up with a 4 digit code for things, since you're not supposed to use your own birthday, like the combination to my new bike lock.<br />
<br />
Why do I need a bike lock? The answer to that is simple: because I got a new car. Seriously.<br />
<br />
My new car is awesome, but it costs a small fortune to fill up. <br />
<br />
<center><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/_z5nYh8HAztU/TcwnGLbn5yI/AAAAAAAAANw/o_K6MMxc44I/photo3.JPG" width="250" /><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/_z5nYh8HAztU/TcwnGHb71ZI/AAAAAAAAANs/Sv-8kf679_Y/photo4.JPG" width="250"" /></center><br />
<br />
Since I am the chair of the <a href="http://twitter.com/restonpitstop">Reston Pit Stop</a> for <a href="http://">Bike to Work Day</a>, I figured now was as good a time as any to start biking to work. Which brings me back to why I needed a lock, and why I picked a best friend who's birthday is the same as the last four digits to my phone number. I highly suggest picking your friends this way. It worked out for us!<br />
<br />
<center><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/_z5nYh8HAztU/TcwqJyNwryI/AAAAAAAAAN0/0KYkBU0xyF4/13996574684.jpg" /></center><br />
<br />
Okay, so maybe we were besties before I got the phone number, but the title "how to pick your phone number" didn't have the same ring to it. And it was just a coincidence.Reston Stylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01723093649032724236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355072211169480801.post-88479068129530740992011-05-10T08:28:00.000-07:002011-05-10T08:28:41.389-07:00I'm not so sure...I asked my friend if it was weird that I started a third (well more like seventh, but I digress) blog just as an account of my 29th year. His reply kinda of shocked me. He said that he didn't think it was enough of a topic to sustain a blog and asked what it's purpose was. I said that it was going to be a funny account of my life, aside from the daily drivel (ie <a href="http://twitter.com/missylizzylucy">twitter</a> and <a href="http://missylizzylucy.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a>) and <a href="http://restonstyle.blogspot.com/">what I'm wearing</a>. Then he made a joke about me not being funny.<br />
<br />
I did not laugh.<br />
<br />
Maybe I'm not funny.<br />
<br />
But it still isn't stopping me from having a blog (or three).Reston Stylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01723093649032724236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355072211169480801.post-32831172139052415132011-05-09T08:16:00.000-07:002011-05-09T08:16:18.506-07:00365 to 30I survived doomsday, so maybe it wasn't doomsday after all. Maybe that happens when you turn 30. 365 days until that happens. I would write a birthday recap, but I'm still processing.<br />
<br />
I will leave you with this instead: <br />
<br />
My 5 year old nephew is working on rhyming. He said to my sister <i>"you know what rhymes? Mommy and Zombie." </i><br />
My sister replied<i> "well, not really. But what would you do if Mommy was a Zombie?" </i><br />
My nephew answered <i>"beat you up, because you're not my mommy anymore if you're a zombie."</i>Reston Stylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01723093649032724236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355072211169480801.post-31855303360934943682011-05-06T13:33:00.000-07:002011-05-06T13:34:03.659-07:00two<div style="text-align: left;"><i>Two</i> seemed like a good title for my second post. It is the <i>second</i>, there are <i>two days</i> until the countdown to 30, I mean, my 29th birthday, and I have <i>two days </i>of personal leave. The personal leave is only relevant because I took half a day today (and if I write "half" like this "1/2" there's a two in it) to get ready for doomsday, sorry - I mean my birthday. And by get ready, I mean clean.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">See, this is what my room usually looks like: </div><br />
<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/missylizzylucy/5694334644/" title="messy by lizbadley, on Flickr"><img alt="messy" height="500" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3431/5694334644_e9b9c868ae.jpg" width="500" /></a></center><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Beautiful, right? I know it's perfectly acceptable for a 28 year old to have a messy room, but 29? 30? At some point it had to be cleaned. I decided that this morning was as good a time as any. Here are the results:</div><br />
<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/missylizzylucy/5694334662/" title="made by lizbadley, on Flickr"><img alt="made" height="500" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5025/5694334662_05b84f3dcc.jpg" width="500" /></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/missylizzylucy/5694334702/" title="clean by lizbadley, on Flickr"><img alt="clean" height="500" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5141/5694334702_5b353e4eab.jpg" width="500" /></a></center><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">You'll notice that the vacuum is still out. That's because I was too tired to put it away. Baby steps here, people!</div>Reston Stylehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01723093649032724236noreply@blogger.com0