I take a lot of pictures. For example, currently on Facebook I have 161 ALBUMS. Each album has at least 60 pictures, but most of my albums are nearing the 200 limit. And, in addition, there are over 2,600 pictures tagged of me. This is not a brag fest. I have a point…

Sometimes people will make comments about the fact that I have too many pictures, or so many pictures, or “holy-crap-you-have-a-sh*t-ton-of-pictures.” People will comment that I should just sit back and relax instead of trying to document whatever event I’m experiencing through pictures.

my mom after she bought the house i grew up in

I say no.

Not only do I just love the art of photography and the whole notion of “pictures really CAN be worth 1000 words,” I take pictures now because prior to the age of 17, I didn’t really take very many. And it’s getting hard to remember.

[I'm about to get just a wee personal.]

Most of you reading this know that my mom died when I was 17. I was a senior in high school, she was 55 years old. Yesterday I spent close to 3 hours going through old photo albums that I found trying to remember. The fact is, although this was 8 years ago, there’s a part of me that feels like I’m starting to forget things… the little things. Sure, I remember big events, overarching themes, and large characteristics of her, but I’m forgetting her laugh and her smile, and the little times spent together.

I have very few regrets in life. In fact, I don’t really believe in “regrets” – I believe in “things not done.” The one thing I could possibly classify as a regret would be this: In all of my pictures from age BIRTH to 17, I have very, very, VERY few photos of my mom and me in my teenage years. Such a simple thing, yet I never captured any of those moments. What I would do for a picture of my mom and me the night we went to the N*SYNC concert and she crimped her hair and wore pleather pants. Sure the pictures are “in my head,” but for me, it isn’t the same.

Today is my mom’s birthday. She would have been 63. She loved Diet Coke in a giant 44oz. jug (like mother like daughter), sugar free Dole Popsicles,  Ben & Jerry’s New York Super Fudge Chunk, and chocolate cake. Oh, she also loved those fruit and yogurt parfaits from McDonalds. I can’t tell you how many times I had to go get her one of those at like 3AM because she needed it right then and there.

She also loved pictures. She never wanted to forget anything. She remembered everything. And well, like mother like daughter, I want to remember everything. So I’m going to keep taking a ton of pictures.

my mom and i Christmas 1999. and yes, i loved that sweater.

So, in honor of the “coolest mom who ever lived’s” birthday, I finally scanned some of the greats.

It’s okay to miss those we have loved and lost – as long as we remember.

Happy Birthday, Mom.

Word.

Sunday, May 23rd, 2010. Monday, May 24th, 2010. These days, for me, will go down in infamy.

Now, don’t go judging me so quickly.

Yes, for the past SIX years I’ve been a devoted fan of LOST. And yes, for the past, close to TEN years, I’ve been a devoted fan of 24. And in the past 72 hours, both of those television shows have come to a close. To an end. Fin. Donezo. Peace out.

I’m not typically a huge television fan. The nerd in me loves to read and write, and frankly, I can get rather lazy when it comes to keeping up with the Joneses or Kardashians. But LOST and 24 have had my heart, soul, and dedication for close to a decade.

Sure, everything comes to an End, well, in the end. This chapter closes and another opens, why would I care? I knew the end was inevitable and/or nigh.

I’ll miss these shows because I “grew up” with them. Although I’d done the majority of my biological growing up when they started, these shows changed as I did over the last few years. Some of my greatest memories are spending time with some of the most important people in my life watching these shows together.

I’ve been out of college three full years now and I can’t even begin to tell you how much I miss it. And ironically, LOST and 24 were a HUGE part of that time. (I know, I know, three years isn’t that long. I’m young. Get over it.)

I remember the first time I watched 24 and LOST like I would remember any other major event in my life. I even remember on my anniversary with my college boyfriend, we went to WAL-MART and bought the first season of LOST and spent the next three days watching it together. And it was awesome!

I remember the Saturday marathons of 24 where my friends Matt, Nick, Erick, Ross, and I would start at 8AM and watch an entire season of 24 back to back for 18 straight hours. There was so much pizza, fun-dip, Diet Coke, and funny bits during those 18 hours. When the show would go to commercial and the clock would read 3:45:08, we’d have a competition to see who could guess what time the clock would read when the show would come back. I mean, it was an INTENSE competition.

Wednesday nights were always hopping in the “446 Suites.” LOST had a dedicated following of college students who would laugh, cry, and ask WHATTHEHECK? together.  The times spent in my apartment, Harrison 104, with the “safe zone” pining over the next episode. Oh, and Ethan was the creepiest character ever.

Those people that I spent time with watching 24 and LOST were my best friends, and I haven’t seen some of them since we graduated in 2007. And for some reason, in the last three days, I’ve been really nostalgic thinking about them. Wishing we were all together again to watch that chapter of our lives come to an end.

So, why would I ramble on and on about a couple of TELEVISION shows?

Because as they have changed, I have changed. I am not the same person that I was when they began. I’ve matured, I’ve grown, and I’ve transitioned. Just like them.

I’ve moved on. (Just like… well, I won’t say for those of you who HAVEN’T seen the finale of either…)

It’s okay to miss those days. It’s okay to miss those people. It’s good to know they were in your life for a reason.

Just like the characters of Jack Bauer and Jack Shephard were there… for THEIR reasons.

“There are no shortcuts. No do-overs. What happened, happened. Trust me. I know. All of this matters.” - Jack Shephard

It all matters. And it’s okay to miss it. As long as you don’t take what you’ve experienced, all of it, any of it, for granted. It’s okay to move on.

Word.

And now a message from an old guy:

Now if you are going to win any battle you have to do one thing. You have to make the mind run the body. Never let the body tell the mind what to do. The body will always give up. It is always tired in the morning, noon, and night. But the body is never tired if the mind is not tired.”

-General George S. Patton, U.S. Army and 1912 Olympian

Dang. I didn’t realize the words of an old (deceased) Army General would ever make so much sense to me. The body always gives up – for me. Trust me, my body would always rather stay on the couch, or in bed. My body never wants to get up earlier than it has to. My mind does the grunt work. My body is just the carrier pigeon.

Was feeling a small sense of personal defeat on Friday – and was feeling a general sense of being overwhelmed. (It happens. Right? Right.) And, in the midst of doing work, stumbled across this quote. I think I’m going to print off 100 copies of it and tape it up everywhere I need a reminder.

Sometimes the mind just needs a reminder – because the body tends to forget.

Word.

PS: I think Betty White is a rockstar in both body and mind. She was effing brilliant on SNL last night. For reals.

We all work.

Although “work” isn’t so easily defined for all of us. For some of us, “work” is what pays the bills. Going to the gym is “working” out. To others, volunteering is “work.” It’s all work – in some way or another.

Sure, we all “work” for someone. Unless you are one of the lucky people who have no one to answer to but yourself, either because you’re a loner or because you’re a billionaire, you “work” for someone.

But my question to you goes deeper than a boss / authority figure: WHO do YOU work for?

You don’t make money for your boss, you make money for yourself or a family you’re supporting. But in the end, are you happy with the “work” you’re doing? Are you really working for the money, are you working for the boss, are you working for your family, or are you working for yourself? Is the paycheck the most important thing?

The reason I pose this question is because it is a question that I, myself, have posed a lot recently… to, well, myself. I don’t make a lot of money and I work a lot. But what is my end goal? Do I have a plan? Do I have a vision? The things that I do outside of my 9-5 job, are all those activities (other involvement) considered, work? Do I see the hard “work” I put into those things as valuable? Of course. Because I don’t get paid to run. I don’t get paid to do improv. I do those things for myself.

Even if you spend 80 hours a week at the office, or you work 100 hours a week at 3 jobs, or you are lucky and you have a very strict 9-5, 40 hour a week gig, it’s important to take a step back from the daily grind and remember who you work for FIRST.

Who’s your number one boss? You. YOU are you’re number one boss. You know when you’re procrastinating, working diligently, improving, accomplishing, goal setting, yada yada yada. You know YOU better than anyone… which that should go without saying.

I know I need a reminder every once in a while. So, I thought, maybe if I wrote it down and reminded myself, in turn, I’d help to remind other people. You work for yourself first, because if you’re your own number one employee, it will show in everything else you do.

I work really hard. Always have.

That medal was my running paycheck. I earned it.

But particularly, I’ve worked really hard for six months on a “side-project”, and this past Sunday was my mid-year evaluation. I ran my first ever half-marathon. 13.1 miles. The Long Branch, New Jersey half-marathon. And the only one boss that could judge my performance? Me.

It was, by far, the most difficult thing I have ever done. Not only was it 13.1 miles, but it was 93 degrees, no shade, no breeze (for at least 10.5 of the 13.1 miles), high pollen count, etc. etc… By mile 2 I wanted to quit – and I knew I had a long way to go.

My goal was a finishing time of 2 hours and 30 minutes. I ended up finishing in 2 hours and 56 minutes. Was I disappointed?Sure. But was I proud of myself? Absolutely. For the last six months I have trained and prepared 100% on my own. No one else made me get up in the morning and run 5 miles, no one else told me I had to run after working at 15 hour day… I told myself. I did the work.

My friend Colette and my friend Greg were my mentors – talking me through the bad runs, the good runs, and the prep. But in the end, my legs did the running.

And yeah, I’ll admit it, mile 9 of 13.1, I cried. Straight up. No lies. I didn’t know if I could finish or not. As I watched people passing out beside me, and people throwing up from heat exhaustion, I had to have the conversation with myself, did I want to pass out or did I want to finish? I chose the later.

In running, in comedy, in life, I am my own boss. If I am proud of the work I do, the people I literally work for will feel the same way.

Who do YOU work for?

Word.