Positive(ly) Portugal

There are two huge beaming positives that came from my vacation to Portugal.  The first, I picked my camera back up after what I'd love to say was months, but more accurately is probably years.  For some people who don't know, I originally went to college to study Photography.  It was my major.  It is why I was accepted to The Maryland Institute College of Art (well, mainly).  I fell in love with photography in high school.  I had/have a passion for all things people, and snapping one moment in time of one person, one look, one tiny piece of someone drew me in and I found myself loving all forms of artwork I could use to explore people (always wanted to draw portraits, never landscapes-- same went for my photography for the most part).  When I found video, I realized I could use it to capture moments like photography, but also use it to tell people's stories, and I fell in love with that medium, as well.

For some reason, when I graduated and found myself strapped with more responsibilities, I found less time for exploration and artwork.  I think we all go through that phase where things we love to do find their way to the back burners for us while we spend most of our time and energy as young adults on creating a career path (that we hopefully enjoy) and finding a balance between work and relationships with friends and loves.  Sometimes it takes it's toll on our hobbies and passions, and it takes something big (like a very expensive European vacation) to remind us that there's more to us than work and relationships.  There's more to pad the happiness with, and sometimes I forget them (a small list:  books, poetry, documentaries, photography, painting, drawing, makeup, nail polish, funky fashion, design, cooking, people-watching, singing, etc.)  I've never had a successful vacation, so I didn't realize how important and useful they are in forcing you to rediscover these seemingly obvious joys.

Lagos, Portugal
(aka "Beach Don't Give a Fuck")

The second wonderful experience I walked away from Portugal with was the healing power of European self-image.  Know what I adore about Europeans?  They don't give a fuck about what their bodies look like.  Europeans are far more concerned with their mental health and with simply what makes them happy.  Because many of the things that Europeans find happiness in HAPPEN to be healthy (walking instead of driving everywhere, fresh local ingredients close by to cook with and consume, etc.) they don't have the obesity issues crammed down their throats constantly like we do in the states.  The most beautiful and freeing experience is to go to a European beach.

Dan and I feeling free at the beach.

I remember going to the beach in the Dominican Republic and seeing the visiting Europeans being so free with their bodies (sometimes topless, sometimes just in skimpier suits, sometimes just in regular suits with complete confidence) and thinking it was really shocking and a little gross.  I wasn't used to seeing cellulite, stretch marks or saggy breasts hanging out so freely-- signs of aging.  Signs of enjoying life and good foods and probably wine and beer, too!  These people on the beach weren't unhealthy.  They were simply real and honest.  They weren't photoshopped.  And the strangest part about all of this-- they were smiling.  Laughing, even!

Happy for hours on this beach.

It may be because of the state of mind I was in at that time in the DR, or the people I surrounded myself with, but being on the beach in Portugal was a completely different experience for me.  Not only was I being cheered on to lose my shorts by the company I was in, but the general population of people on the beach were REAL people.  They had physical signs of living life and not spending every day dieting and denying themselves good food or lazy days if they so choose.  It was completely natural and no one-- NOT ONE person looked at anyone else with judgement.  Find me a beach in the US where a gal with extra flab in a bikini isn't ridiculed and/or made fun of (even if it's behind her back).  I mean fuck just a bikini-- in a swimsuit at ALL being more than 120 lbs, you're going to get glances and you're going to feel uncomfortable in your own skin.  It's unfortunate...

Obligatory Vacation Shot.

And while it's with me now, and will probably fade with time, I have that European mentality about my body.  I felt just as good in my bikini on that beach as I ever have about my body.  It probably says a lot about the people I was with as much as it does the culture I was in the center of.  I didn't feel judged, and it was incredibly freeing.

I'm going to try and hold tight to these two positive aspects of this trip and remember them when I'm feeling too American.

xo,
Rachael

P.S.
For all of my trip's photography, you can visit here.

Portugal In Progress...

 Enjoy many more photos from my trip thus far.  Updated daily HERE.

xo,

Rachael

Putting It Out There

After an 11 hour shoot day, I drug myself home to pile on a new coat of under eye makeup, powder and a sweep of blush to try to hide some of the zombie green that was settling into my skin for the evening.  I grabbed the tray of veggies I cut up the previous evening, the tri-flavored hummus platter and two bags of pita chips I snagged from the grocery store Sunday and got right back into my car to head to a stranger's house.

I've gotten a little ballsy since I moved to CT.  I've had to be...  moving at all took some balls, but in order to meet new people at 27, find a new job with no real networking connections, and fill out the rest of my life that needs a little padding, you have to be willing to put yourself out there and do some things that scare you or that you're not incredibly comfortable with.

One thing that was a necessity was finding a new local doctor/specialist to help me deal with my next steps in dealing with my endometriosis.  While sitting in the waiting room, nervous, I scanned the room for pamphlets, magazines, posters of uteri and fliers--anything at all to take my mind off of a new set of doctors, nurses and fellows that would be acquainting themselves with my nether regions.  There was a flyer on the wall--one lone white 8x10 piece of paper with an email address and the words, "Endometriosis Support Group.  If interested, please contact ___".  I took a picture of the flyer and decided to email the address later in the week.  2 months passed and I never heard back.

I had really forgotten about the whole situation until May 27th when an email arrived from a gal named Julie introducing herself and explaining that she was the contact on those fliers and had been swamped with work, but had free time, now, and wanted to devote some of it to finally getting this group together. She explained her own diagnoses and a little about herself and offered to host the first meeting at her house and gave a list of dates and times to choose from.

After a few emails back and forth introducing ourselves to each other, the day was set, and we all brought (way too many) appetizers to share.  There were 4 of us total (a fifth that didn't reply), and we all spent a few hours getting to know one another, sharing tips, stories and concerns with one another.  It was almost scary how quickly we all were bonded by this disease, which, by the way, wasn't the only thing we talked about.

I'm sure that some of these girls will become friends that I hang out with outside of our little group.  It was really a wonderful evening filled with great conversation, food and wine, and I couldn't be happier that I stretched outside of my comfort zone.  I really got to meet some extraordinary women because of it.

Popina

Next stop:  Portugal!  I (unapologetically) ripped off Kelle Hampton's new bathing suit and I couldn't be more thrilled with it.  Super retro/pin-up (with a detachable halter strap).  It's yellow with white polka dots, but you can't tell from the shitty pic.  Also, got my first Victoria's Secret swimsuit top (helllooooo, tittays) and a swim skirt from Popina (same place as the one piece) because my least favorite part of my body is right where that swim skirt covers.  Hopefully this will be the most comfortable I've been in beachwear in a while...  I also spent a good amount of money on skirts and sundresses.  I'm looking forward to sun and culture...  Hoping for relaxation and a good amount of time with Dan.

Top: VS, Skirt: Popina

This week has been incredibly stressful work-wise, and I've gotten very little sleep.  Hopefully the next update will be from a far more relaxed gal.  :)

xo,
Rachael


P.S.  I'm totally obsessed with this song "Ambling Alp" by Yeasayer.  Give it a listen on my playlist (turn up your speakers!!).

In the Weeds

I spent all day Saturday at Elizabeth Park which happens to be very close to my house.  It's gorgeous.  I needed some time to myself and ended up spending hours there just laying by the pond, dividing my time between people-watching and reading, while allowing the occasional ant to make its way across my pages.

I'm not a very nature-ey gal, but for some reason this park speaks to me.  There's beautiful trees that create the perfect amount of shade, water that's home to many ducks and geese, and a rose garden that's beyond belief.  It's a nice place to relax and enjoy the outdoors.

I really have been feeling in the weeds lately.  I'm trying my best to pull myself out.  Even though I was surrounded by all of that beauty, I couldn't even crack one smile.

I'm lucky to have such a loving partner.  I'm lucky to have good friends, even if they're at a distance (geographically).  Neal, Linsey, Megan and Adina have shown me glimpses of where I used to be and have been solid reminders that I was once strong and can get there again.  My wonderful Dan shows me more and more each day that I'm here to be with him and he is a someone I would walk to the ends of the Earth for.  I want to be better for him in every way that I can.

Home was a nice reminder that I still have warmth and love all in one place, still, even if I don't call it my "home."  Family and old friends are always a nice way to feel back to normal.  Striking up a new-old relationship has also proved to be incredibly valuable.  My good friend, Megan and I have a lot in common.  It's been remarkable to catch back up with her and talk about life, love and everything in between.  I have friends that I talk to back and forth and swap advice with, but there's something different about talking to Megan.  She listens deeply when you talk to her.  She hears everything you say, whether it's about you and something you're dealing with, or if it's advice or an opinion you are giving her.  A week later, she'll come back after having let that conversation settle, and repeat things you said to her verbatim and come back with her insight.  It's incredible.  It's rare.  It's sad that it's so rare, but she's one of the rarest roses, as Em and I say.  I'm lucky to have her back in my life.


I'm hoping this low point quickly fades away, but with these few sweet reminders and a park to visit to clear my head, I'm hoping I'll be back to my old self sooner rather than later.  At the very least, this slump is making take notice of the things and people I have to be grateful for, and I have to try to keep an eye on that silver lining.

Here's to getting out of the weeds.

xo,
Rachael

Home is... Not My Home.

I'm taking the long weekend to head back to Southern Maryland to help assist my papa since he had his knee replaced this past Tuesday.  (Well, for that and just because I miss my family like crazy.  I have plans to do the movies with my sisters, a pedi with my mama and drinks with friends.  Sometimes it's nice to just see those familiar faces.)  My dad's a trooper, but he's active and stubborn as hell, so I can't imagine him having to be immobile.  I just don't see it happening.  I figure my main job will be to try and actually keep him off his feet the entire time I'm home.

I'm stoked to REALLY drive my new car for a long distance.  It should be a nice drive down and I've packed my phone (which I also use as my ipod) with new jams and podcasts from Adam Corolla and Ricky Gervais.  Two very wise, very funny men.

While thinking about going home, there's been a lot of thoughts flying through my head.  For one, it's become abundantly clear that "home" is not my home any longer.  Southern Maryland hasn't been my "home" for 10 years+ years, but Baltimore was always where I considered my "home" to be.  This will be my first trip back to Maryland that I haven't stopped off for at least one night of Baltimore.  This is for a few reasons.  One being that my Bmore BFF is out of town at ze beach (good for you, bitch) and just because it seems like most of the people I know there have no interest in keeping in touch, any longer.  I may do a pit-stop in Catonsville to say hi to old friends who have recently reached out to say hello again...  but we'll see what time I actually make it to Catonsville...

It's an odd feeling.  I have breakdowns about once a month about it all, if I'm being perfectly honest.  My hope is that those breakdowns will become fewer and fewer, as time does heal, and I will move on to the next phase of my life.  I'm taking this opportunity, however, to reassess my current mental health and happiness, so that the next phase of my life starts out nice and peacefully (which is how I'm oddly feeling today.  Peaceful).  Taking responsibility.  You know.  That thing I'm so big on.  :)

It's just a lot to swallow when all of a sudden you say and know it to be true, "Home is not my home anymore..."  I have a new home--  I'm not homeless.  This would be a completely different post if that's how I was feeling-- no.  I feel very at home and cozy in my new life.  In fact, all else is going swimmingly.  Dan is wonderful and I am going to miss him to pieces while being back in MD (he's on call this weekend, so cant come with).  He's really showing me these amazing sides to him each day that make me more and more...  sure.  He's just more than I could ever ask for in a partner, a best friend, a teacher.  He's far more amazing than I give him credit for.  I feel very confident in my career.  I've definitely worked hard to be where I am, and for that I am truly proud, and I've met some great people up here.  We go out more and more now that we have moved back to the city, so I expect that to only flourish further...

Necklace can be found here.

Like I've said before.  Things are falling into place.  It's just odd when you take the time to really look at the changes that are happening or have already happened around you and really breathe it in.  I talked with a dear old friend today about the choice to either be present in your life and take responsibility and be in the moment and know what is going on and own it (good, bad, ugly, amazing), or choose to live in denial and sweep everything under the rug and ignore it (which is not really living, in my opinion).  You can't stop some changes from happening, so you may as well roll right along with it...  I'm on my way.

xo,
Rachael

And Then There Were Two (years).

I've gotta say...  I didn't see this coming 2 years ago.  I remember being on a balcony in DC on a beautiful starry Spring night telling Dan, "You're gonna graduate in a year and then you'll probably move somewhere far away for your residency, and I don't want to get involved, then be all caught up in feelings when you decide to leave..."

He held my hands and looked into my eyes and said, "If you heard today that your office might close in a year, would you quit your job today?"  Knowing that I loved my job and company very much, he knew I would never leave it knowing it was going down.  I'd stay til the end because I knew I loved it and was lucky to have a career that I actually enjoyed.  So I told him no.  That I wouldn't leave my job.  And then we kissed.  For a long time.  I guess that was my way of saying, "and I won't leave you either...  I guess."

I was cautious in the beginning because I did know he was graduating and had mentioned missing New England, so I had an idea early on that he would end up trying to do his residency closer to where he grew up.

When the time came for him to decide, I was ready to go wherever he chose.  Not just because of how in love with him I was/am, but because I had been out of college and working for several years at this point and his career was just beginning.  It was an organic situation and decision-- just like my mom always said it would be when it was "right".

Things have started to fall into place for both of us up here in our new little life in Hartford.  I watched Love & Other Drugs tonight and it really got me thinking about what my life would be like without Dan in it.  It's nearly impossible to imagine, but the thought of it made me cry...  He's my best friend and we have far too much fun together.  I know how extremely lucky I am to have such an amazing man in my life.  His thoughtfulness doesn't go unnoticed...  Like for instance, last night he went to bed early and I stayed up (this is a rare occurrence because I usually crawl into bed early with him and just read or watch some netflix until I get sleepy/take my sleep meds) and he left my nightstand light on for me.  He slept with the damn light on so I could come to bed, read and relax.  These tiny little things mean a lot to me...

Anyhoo, as you may have realized, Dan and I's 2 year anniversary is this week.  We don't have an official date, but I know it was this week.  I couldn't have guessed we'd be living together, he'd be by my side while I bought my first new car, that we'd be buying furniture together.  Never on that balcony would I have dreamt that we would be living in Connecticut together.  I never ever would have thought that I would be more in love with him in the second year than I was in the first...

Enough gushing.  For now.  Just know, I'm happy.  Maybe the happiest I've ever been (and a lot of that is due to Dan).  And for that, I am very grateful.

xo,
Rachael

Mean Girls: Alive and Well (...unfortunately)

I've been reading Tina Fey's book, Bossypants, and that combined with things going on recently have made me reflect on the women currently in my life and ones from the past who were in my life because of outside circumstance (i.e. ones I didn't ask to be around).

It was pretty early on that I learned what I call "The Polite Rules of Rejection."  I remember being 14 and having my first (kiss) boyfriend telling me over the phone after his first day at high school (a different one than I was attending) about all the big-breasted girls around and how excited he was about it.  It was only a few days later that he dumped me.  I had not developed in the least at this point.  I was still dancing a few hours a night almost 5 days a week.  I finally broke 100 lbs later that year...  But anyway, it was a harsh reality to swallow, that I had not only been dumped by my first kiss, but because of how I looked physically.

After this happened, I'd occasionally run into him since we did grow up in a small town and kept mutual friends.  If he happened to have a (big-tittied) girl around, I treated her with politeness and respect, even if I wanted to rip her tits off and beat her over the head with them.  After all-- if I were going to be upset with someone, it would have to be him for being the prick in the situation.  The girl did nothing wrong by developing early (and voluptuously) and chances are, she never even knew I existed and that he had (cheated on) gotten rid of me for her.

This whole "taking the high road" thing is not something that is easy, but something that is necessary to maintain status as a respectable human being, keep on karma's good side and to not look like a complete Jerry Springer Show guest.

What's more important is that most people do NOT take this road.  In fact, I have been on both sides of the situation and in each situation, I was treated like a piece of garbage by "the other woman".

While this is probably not a situation most people find themselves in, I have found myself in it 4 times since the "first kiss boy" kicked me to the curb.  The second time, I was the dumped and was faced with my ex and his new girlfriend (he cheated on me with) at my junior prom that I attended (originally) with him.  He left with her.  I left with compassionate friends who went very far out of their way to get me home safe and sound.  I spent the remainder of the night in ripped jeans and a tiara drinking booze at my neighbor's house while listening to Alkaline Trio's newest release and drawing, while I wasn't crying, of course.

The other three times I was in a similar situation, I was on the flip side.  What boggles my mind about these last few times, is that it wasn't high school.  One was during college and two were POST college and I was treated like I've never been treated in my life.  Mean girls are alive and well.  Not only do they still exist, but are thriving, I assure you.

I was taken to a college formal by my now ex.  He put me into a situation where I was sat with and spent most of the night in close quarters with a girl he had been "seeing" (and assured me he hadn't been) along with all of her closest girlfriends.  I was wondering why this mean girl-- the ring leader of the crew-- was treating me like I had killed her pet kitten all evening.  I mean, it was worse than that.  It wasn't pure violence or a clear "fuck you"-- it was a twisted melting pot of embarrassing me, not letting me in on things/jokes/stories, making fun of me when I spoke, and general disrespect (which is the worst of all).  I've never shown so much restraint as I did that night.  It only came out a few days later that they had in fact been "seeing each other" (isn't that a nice phrase?) and she was pissed that he had decided to get back together with me instead of continuing to "see her"*.  I totally deserved being shit on all night for that one.  How dare I?  On top of the sheer embarrassment I felt all night (because of her treatment), the humiliation I felt after finding out that I was at a table all night with a group of people who knew my boyfriend had been "seeing someone else," and I was the only one out of the loop...  It's not a great feeling.  In fact, it's the worst.

(*She ended up marrying his roommate.  We buried the hatchet years later and she apologized for being such a cunt to me that night.  This doesn't make it ok, but I think it shows that maybe she just matured at the rate of a snail while I was more at the pace of a cheetah.  An unfair race, really.)

The second post-high school experience was with my current boyfriend's ex.  We saw her out on the town one night, and instead of fleeing the scene and pretending I didn't know who she was (because I had met her previously), I walked right up and extended my hand and told her hello.  I re-introduced myself and told her it was nice to see her again.  Awkward isn't really the word to describe the response I got in return.  It was more of a look like she had smelled a rotten corpse and rolled her eyes, only to have them land comfortably on my boyfriend.  She spent the remainder of the night blocking me from him and talking/laughing/flirting with him.  I just decided to take my business elsewhere in the bar.  It wasn't fun, and he is as much to blame for my feelings of embarrassment and disrespect that evening, but I assure you, he knows this.  I showed this girl respect.  I wasn't trying to rub our relationship in her face.  We are adults.  It's a shame I couldn't get the same amount of respect in return.

The final mean girl situation was with a girl that will remain nameless and position-less (as far as who she is and how she squirmed her way into my life), but I will give you this hint:  It's not an ex (that I know of) and she clearly was interested in the man I was with at that time.  This person, I came out of the gate with salutations and trying to be as sweet as a peach.  It was a work-related situation where I'd be that way regardless, to show respect and try to build a good relationship since careers are involved.  Red flags when up right and left as soon as she sat down (across from me and my then boy) at dinner.  I felt like I was in the college situation all over again (but was much much older).  What the fuck was going on?  The only thing this was missing from the college formal night was the expensive gown, bad food and gaggle of co-cunts to back her up.

This girl went out of her way to ignore me when I spoke, talk only to the others at the table, and flirt mercilessly with my boyfriend in front of me and the rest of their co-workers.  It was embarrassing, to say the least.

Again--  being adults and being respectful goes a long way.  It takes a ton of restraint when emotions are involved (and believe me-- sitting there and being shat on for no apparent reason in front of people I respect--was a situation where restraint was DEFINITELY needed on my part).  I excused myself to use the bathroom just to pace around it and breathe at one point.  I'm not quite sure why this happens.

My mom never sat me down and explained this exact situation, guiding me on how to hold myself during such an event.  I just know that you don't go out of your way to make people look like assholes-- ESPECIALLY at events that involve work, charity or PUBLIC in general.  "The Polite Rules of Rejection" is to deal with the fact that whatever person you were after didn't feel the same way about you, clearly, or else he'd be there at dinner with you.  It's owning that and moving on, not taking it out of whatever girl he is currently dating.

Disrespect is hard to swallow.  I have to believe in karma.  It's the only way I can sit there biting my tongue.  I'm pretty sure this is the type of shit that guys settle with fist fights, not pure disrespect and embarrassment.  Why do women use these tactics against each other?  What do these women get out of it?  If I ever took the route any of these "ladies" took, I'd be ashamed of myself...

Just something I'm often puzzled by and figured I'd vomit out into type...

xo,
Rachael