Tomorrow is the Solstice! For a girl who grew up in the north country, this is something I looked forward to every year. And for an optimist, there are few better holidays.

Tomorrow marks the day with the least amount of light for the year. It's a tough time for many people. Going through day after day of waking up in darkness and leaving work in darkness is draining on even the toughest of psyches. I'm pretty sure that's why we have all of these holidays grouped around this time--to make it easier to handle. Whether that's the case is still up for debate.

While some might question the logic of celebrating the day with the shortest amount of light, it makes perfect sense to me. It can only get better. It can only be more light. Soon we'll rise with the sun again (a much more natural way to wake up) and play outside until we're thoroughly worn out.

It kind of reminds me of the ten of swords in the tarot. You can't get any more dead. The worst is over. You can't go anywhere but up. And while this may seem fatalistic to some, to me it's one of the best places to start. Because things just keep getting better.

A letter to my 18-year-old self

I was inspired by this blog post to write a letter to my younger self. Here's a picture of who I am writing to:

That's me on the right.

Dear Rebecca,

You don’t know me, but I am you. I am writing to you from about 12 years in the future. I know you have an active imagination, but you still may have trouble grasping that. Just know that rolling your jeans is coming back into style, the planet is still in one piece (barely), and thankfully people are still listening to The Cure.

I have thought about a lot of different things to say to you. I like to write, as you know, and this letter could be miles long. I wonder if you would devour it or toss it aside to read when you had “time.” I’d like to think your rabid curiosity could sustain your interest, but you’re in high school right now, so let’s be realistic. You have other things to do.

I thought about telling you to pick your writing teacher’s brain, to not start smoking, and to skip the math major bullshit, but I know you hate being told what to do, so I’ll skip that. I would like you to know that someday you’ll laugh about being called a slut when you were a virgin and pity those who teased you for god-knows-what, but I know all of that hurts now. And plus, it makes you a stronger woman. (Just keep your chin up, girl!)

This is all I have: Every decision you are about to make is the right one. Not necessarily at that moment. Or even for the moment after that. You will experience setbacks that you think you’ll never recover from. You will wonder why the hell you were put on this planet.

But know this: The life you have is amazing. And 12 years from where you are now, you are going to look back and not have a single regret. What you do now makes you what you are later. Be confident. You will get what you want, even if it takes a few tries.

I love you. I'm proud of you. Keep up the optimistic attitude. It suits you.

Your friend,

Rebecca

An ode to Joanne, or My mom rules

It's that time of year again, and I'm not talking about Christmas. It's Sagittarius birthday time. I tend to attract them. One of the centaurs that has been in my life the longest is my mother. In fact, it's her birthday tomorrow.

Now we've had our ups and downs, but the fact is that she agreed to give birth to me, raise me as best she could and then unleash me onto the world.

Here (in no particular order) are five things that remind me of my mom, Joanne.

My mom read this book to me when I was very young. In fact, she instilled in me a great love of reading. Because of this, her attempts to get me to go to sleep at a decent hour were no match for the flashlight and good book I had under my bed. I was accused of not being a morning person--how much of a morning person could I be when I was up until 4am reading? Thanks Mom, for giving me the gift of reading. (I wouldn't be a writer without it.)

OK I know it's cheesy, but my mom would sing this song to me at night before I went to bed. And it's one of my favorite memories of being young. And it reminds me of how (as my mom told it) when I was born it was a record breaking heat wave, and she and I would open the windows in the hospital and reach for the sun.

Love it or hate it, it reminds me of my mom. "I'll have a small french fry and a medium diet coke." I can't count the number of times I have been on the phone with her and she says, "Hold on, I'm just in the drive through... *speaks above order* ...so anyway, I was playing this beautiful song on the piano..." If my mom wasn't in such good shape, I would say something to her about it. But hey, she laid off me and my smoking, so I can't say much. And since there is a McDonalds in every country around the world, this assures that I will think of her no matter where I go.

Lefse. My mom helped me achieve a life-long goal last year when she came to my apartment and showed me how to make lefse, a Norwegian treat. It was something that had long mystified and intimidated me. And it was delicious.

Mom went out, took a class and voila! She became a lefse extraordinaire! And when I was asked to make lefse the night before Thanksgiving this year, I didn't bat an eye. You want five pounds? Oh yah, sure! You betcha!

These words:

You can do anything.

You can be anything.

You could run a small county.

My mom said these to me over and over and over. When I was younger I saw this as pressure on me to do everything. What took me a while to realize is that she was just telling me she believed in me. And there is nothing more important a mom can do.

I wouldn't be the woman I am today without Joanne. I wouldn't have moved across a continent with the hope that I could get paid as a writer and then actually get a job as a writer if it wasn't for her belief in me. And that is the coolest thing ever.

Mom, I love you. Thanks for putting your energy, love and devotion toward me. Thanks for never giving up on me. And thanks for being you. I hope you have a great birthday!