Word to my sister friend

In my last post I listed some ways I pulled myself out of a funk I'd been in all summer. But what I failed to mention is what woke me up to the fact that I was struggling and needed to pull myself out of my terrible rut. 

This is my friend, Rachel Knecht. She was my roommate for 3 years in college, and we are as kindred as kindred spirits can get. We are both short, but in her family I'm referred to as the Short Rachel, being an inch shorter than her. Her dad would call and ask for "The Tall Rachel" when he wanted to talk. We share a love of ANTM, coloring (I covet that set of crayons she's holding), Mr. Darcy, Mr. Thornton, and chocolate. We get the same jokes. We are soul sisters.

She and I both have August birthdays (a week apart), and she happened to be in town from California the week between our birthdays. So we had a Birthdaypalooza of fun. This week also happened to be one in which I had spent every day moping on my couch, watching trash on TV and feeling bad. So a weekend with Rachel was the shot of joy in my arm of mopeyness that I needed. We colored, we watched America's Next Top Model, we went out and ate delicious food, and we talked and talked and talked. Rachel K. is the sunniest, most positive person I know. She helped me remember all the good things about my life, and that is when I realized I needed to do something about my sad funk. So thanks, sister friend.

The Funk is Gone

I swore I was going to blog regularly all summer. But then I didn't. And I got in a big old funk and didn't feel like doing much of anything, especially not blogging and trying to be witty. I'm still not feeling particularly witty but I'm not in that funk anymore. And here are some things that pulled me out of that funk:

I read this book a few years ago and tossed it aside because I thought it was kind of dumb. Then my parents told me a few weeks ago to go see this movie. They said they'd laughed a lot. I thought maybe I'd get around to it if I could talk a friend into going with me. Then I decided I really needed to get out, and pull myself out of the funk I was in. I figured a silly movie might help. I didn't have high expectations, especially after having read the book. My friend and I hit the theater and caught a late night showing. It was us and a bunch of other women in the theater, and it was like a huge girls' night. At one point a woman sitting somewhere behind us yelled out, "She's got a bird in her hair!" and the whole theater erupted into laughter. We'd already been laughing a lot. I went back and saw it again a week later with the same friend and one other that really needed to see it as well. It's showing up at my doorstep from Amazon the second it's released on DVD. It got horrible reviews. From a bunch of grumpy old men that don't get the joke. It pulled the funk right out of me, and that's all the review I need.

Remember this show? Remember when it was good? I spent a few weeks watching One Tree Hill, and realized it was driving me deeper into the funk I was in. So much angst and drama, and so little joy and humor. I was digging through the DVDs one day to get out the next Animaniacs disc for my son, and ran across my DVDs of Vampire Diaries, season one. Eureka! Oh my, how I've missed that show. I had forgotten how good the first few seasons were. Remember Aunt Jenna? And nice Rick Salzman? And all the pre-Klaus fun? Yeah, I'd forgotten. So. Much. Fun. And watching something that fun pulled me off the couch and into the laundry room. I started putting away toys. I swept the floor. No, this show isn't miraculous or deep. It's just fun, and I needed to remember fun.

I went to visit my sister with my mom back in July, and my sister pulled out the tennis racquets and balls and took us to the tennis courts. I hadn't really played since I was 14 and was taking tennis lessons. I was terrible then, and I'm terrible now, but dang, it's fun! I came back from Colorado, got a racquet and a bucket of balls, snagged a few super cute tennis skirts from Albion, and started playing tennis with my friend. She is much better than me, and played on the team in high school, but I'm getting better, and sometimes I even hit it into the court. Tennis is way more fun than slogging along on a walk or doing sit-ups. Of course, I'm not going to look like What's-Her-Name Sharapova, but it feels great to get outside and move around. In a cute skirt.

And there you go. Feeling down and having a hard time happens. The important thing is pulling yourself out.