Top 13 of 2013, Day #4: One Step At A Time

Day #4: March 23, 2013

Most of my "top days" are really happy ones. As much as I complain on a daily basis, and as many things as I'd like to change, in general, I'm pretty content with life. The fact that I had so many top days to choose from while making this list made it very, VERY clear how lucky I am.

But it's not the soft things that help you grow. The hard times are the ones that change you the most, that give you a reason to change.

In 2012, particularly here in Connecticut, we were all tested by the unfathomable tragedy at Sandy Hook. The reminders remain almost as prevalent as they were a year ago, but I find myself now thinking of those angels even more when something positive happens, not only when the news blares another nightmare.

There was nothing I could do last December. There was so little any of us could do. It wasn't my place to put myself in anyone else's shoes or try to install myself in our neighboring community and intrude on their experience.

So I stayed in my own shoes. And I did something I do NOT do.

I ran.

Last March, I ran for a lot of reasons, all of them listed in my blog, "Why I Run."

I never posted an update after the race, and I'm sure some people wondered if I ever finished. I did finish. Not with any sort of impressive time, but I was upright (mostly), and it was 100% worth it.

I'm glad it took me a while. I'm glad I felt the pain in my chest as the cold air cycled in and out. I felt that pain, and I knew I was alive. And damn it, I deserved to feel that pain as a reminder of why I was moving with that herd of people in the first place. I'm glad I walked part of it, going slow enough to notice the birds overhead. I had vowed that I would remember that moment. I'm even glad it snowed. I always feel pretty good about slowing everything down for the snow.

The Sandy Hook Run was my first official run, the first time I crossed a finish line painted with something other than chalk or neighborhood markers like "that big rock over there". That was the change in me. I still don't like running, but that race has made me "a runner." All I needed was a reason to push my own limits, kick my own ass, and also stop to take a breath once in a while.

And I guess that's how we're all moving forward, bearing the weight of whatever it is we have to overcome. You can't get there in one stride, but you have to keep moving. One step at a time.

Top 13 of 2013, Day #3: Champagne Birthday

Day #3: March 3, 2013

Do you know about "Champagne Birthdays"? Some people call them "Grand" or "Golden", but for me...it's all about the bubbly. Your Champagne Birthday falls on the day you turn the same age as your birthday - my birthday is the 3rd, for example, so my Champagne Birthday happened when I turned three. Long before I could actually celebrate with champagne, of course.

Seems to me that most people probably can't recall more than half their birthdays before they turned 10. Since my memories of that era of my life are written by faded photos in lost albums and stories flavored by the interests of the people telling them (for instance, my mother allowing me to be nearly kidnapped after my sister threw hot cocoa at me at a McDonald's in New Jersey...but that's another blog entirely), I feel like I got gypped by my original Champagne Birthday three decades ago.

Those of us with single digit Champagne Birthdays deserve better, so I propose that the day you turn your FULL birthday, you get a chance to celebrate something extra. A Champagne Clause, if you will. January 5th, for example, means you get to re-celebrate your Champagne Birthday when you turn 15. Still can't toast with actual champagne of course, but at least this time you'll remember it.

This year was my Champagne Birthday - I turned 33 on 3/3. Ironically, I celebrated the day the same way lots of actual 3-year-olds probably did: At Disney World with my mom.

I did, however, get to do something those birthday girls didn't: I enjoyed my first ever toast of champagne inside the Magic Kingdom!

Traditionally, there's never been alcohol served in the park. Not until Beast welcomed us into his Castle nestled in the mountains of New Fantasyland has a guest been offered a wine list, and that seemed like a perfect reason to celebrate there.

Mickey balloons become part of the finale

It was a short trip, but it was a perfect party. Watching Wishes - my absolute favorite thing in all of Disney World - a bundle of at least 20 Mickey balloons was released into the sky. I mean, they weren't for me (or WERE they?!?), but the deliberate timing convinced me those balloons were something special to someone (and I hope the special meaning wasn't "unemployed" to a careless Cast Member). I got a surprise serenade from Mickey and Minnie, and it was absolutely freezing the entire weekend. There were even reports of flurries in Orlando the morning of my birthday.

Be Our Guest

But dinner? Dinner was special. As you already know, I'm a frequent Disney visitor, and, while we can always find something different to do, entirely brand NEW experiences are a different kind of exciting. Taking our seats in the ballroom the night of my birthday was one of those experiences.

I won't ruin it if you haven't been there, and I won't bore you if you don't "get it", but Be Our Guest dining is an amazing experience. From the snow on the balcony "outside" to the chandeliers on the ceiling, Imagineers could not have done more to make you feel as though you've snuck into the Beast's ballroom. Did my eyes sweat the first time I walked in (and...every time since)? Yes. Don't act like you're surprised.

 

 

I had my champagne, and I enjoyed my steak, and then? I got to try the grey stuff. This was before they added it to the menu, when the grey stuff was reserved for celebrations, and I had no idea what to expect.

Fun fact: It IS delicious.

It made me happy. All of it. My mom and I don't typically travel without one or both of my sisters, so the fact that she was sharing it with me was a brand new experience, and it came at a time when I needed to be away from everything more than anything else.

So a toast, to my Champagne Birthday, and to my mom for sharing it with me.

Top 13 of 2013, Day #2: The Sweetest Thing

Day #2: February 15, 2013

By the time they're my age, most people have either identified which highway they want to take in life or pulled off to a side road that they're at least comfortable driving on, even if it wasn't exactly where they intended to end up.

I'm not most people. I remember feeling anxious when we had to write about what we wanted to be when we grew up, and now that I've physically "grown up," I've got a warning for the next generation of kids who don't really know how to answer the question: You may never know.

Or, it might take a series of "top days" for you to accept that the anxious feeling isn't because you DON'T know what you want to be but, instead, because you DO know.

For me, the first in my series came the day after Valentine's Day with a short phone call about a candy shop. Some of you may recall the story of Seashore Sweets', as I have previously chronicled my encounter with a member of Team Disney here so I won't go through the details again, but honestly?

It was a pretty damn cool phone call to get.

It hasn't led to anything more (yet), but it did spark enough in me to make me wonder if, just maybe, I COULD be part of the storytelling happening at Disney, part of the legacy that is committed to telling every piece of the tale. Nothing is coincidence, everything has an explanation, and if you can just ask the right person, you're going to hear it all.

 This was the first piece of, what I hope will be, the rest of my story.

Top 13 of 2013, Day #1: Finding Nemo

Day #1: February 10, 2013

I've lived in Connecticut my entire life. I've seen lots of snow. I've met snowmen taller than me, I've fallen into fresh snow that reached nearly to my waist, I've spent hours ignoring the frost on my fingers because I just had to stay outside.

WHEN I WAS A CHILD.

Front door snow drift. Literally taller than me.

The snow is always a lot deeper when you're only a a few feet tall yourself, so when it happens as an adult, it's a lot more significant. Larger than life snowmen, snowbanks that blanket your house, and hours of shoveling just to get to your mailbox - that was the Blizzard of 2013.

Winter Storm Nemo was significant.

It was so significant, in fact, that my MOTHER picked up a shovel. She doesn't do winter snow removal regularly, but my dad wasn't feeling well, and the plows weren't coming, and damn it! after three days stuck in the house with us, there was no way in hell she was getting marooned there forever.

The end of the driveway...and beginning of an unplowed street.

The shovel didn't help much at first. The snowblower was available, but it's just the kind of heavy machinery that neither my mom nor I should ever be allowed to operate. I actually wondered if it would be faster to just wait for July to come, but we dug out eventually. We even shoveled the roof. (Admittedly, this feat wasn't all that impressive when you consider that the drifts made the distance between ground and roof considerably shorter, but we also approached it from the deck.)

Mailbox: the only clue as to where the yard began.

In the end, I believe we spent four days cut off from all humanity. We never lost electricity. Our cupboards were not bare. The DVR had plenty of shows to catch up on.

It won't be long before people start doubting just how significant the storm was. People will naturally begin exaggerating, and the truth of our 40 inches will be melted by claims of six feet or more. Our four days of wilderness (and the pioneer weeks that followed, in which our street became one narrow tunnel) will be bested by those who were without contact for weeks on end. But I won't forget how significant it was. I know it was a big deal, and no snowfall totals can compare to the simple way that I knew this storm was different:





Because my mother picked up a shovel.

While my mom shoveled, I built a snowman.

Dreamaversary: Cinderella Castle Suite Visit

There are some days in your life that you remember. Your clothes, the weather, what you had for lunch – the memories of those days are permanently etched not only in your head, but in your heart as well. I’ve been fortunate enough to have a few of those good days, those unbelievable experiences that, even in my memory, seem impossible.  

Saturday, August 31st, marks the 5th anniversary of one of those days – my “Dreamaversary.” I’ve been asked often about my visit to the Cinderella Castle Suite because I can’t imagine anyone – old or young, boy or girl, believer or not – has ever stared down Main Street at those glimmering spires and not wondered what it would be like inside Cinderella Castle. Maybe you haven’t wished for it as often as I have, but you must’ve wondered…right?

The Year of a Million Dreams – 2008 – was the year that wish came true. Here’s the short version of how it came about: I was on my lunch break at work and saw an invitation from Disney to visit the suite, which was to take place just a couple of weeks after that day. I immediately told my Disney family (some related by blood, some related by pixie dust) about the event, never believing we’d hop on a plane and actually GO. There were all kinds of reasons not to. 

But we did. Because there was one major reason we HAD to: when you wait your whole life for something magical to happen, you don’t make excuses. You make magic.

Literally, within the span of our lunch break, plans were confirmed for me to join Lisa and Molly, my pixie dust family, as we celebrated Molly’s 9th birthday with a visit to the most exclusive hotel room on Disney property.

Molly didn’t know about any of it. She jumped in the car after her first day of school thinking she was joining her mom for a boring ride that MIGHT end with ice cream for dinner. A few hours later, there was a palm tree outside her window.

We didn’t tell her about the Castle Suite either. Now, to be fair, I guess I was more excited about it than she was – I mean, I HAD waited almost 20 years longer to see it – but surprising her was special for me as well. I’m sure she didn’t know what to make of the “royal decree” and tiny skeleton key presented to her with her birthday dessert at Prime Time Café, but I still have my key in a special treasure box with the badge we wore during our tour. 

The first thing you should know about the Cinderella Castle Suite is that you’ve probably passed by the entrance a thousand times without realizing it. To this day, every time I walk through the Castle, I pause for a moment at the door with the giant “C,” hoping it’ll creak open and I’ll be whisked inside. 

I never have been, but I’ll keep hoping.

Inside, there is a tiny room with a tiny desk and a giant clock and a mirror. That’s where the suite’s concierge waited to respond to any request a guest might have. Sure, you’re pretty much a prisoner because you can’t leave without permission (seems a bit more like Rapunzel than Cinderella, doesn’t it?) but on the other hand – WHO WOULD EVER WANT TO LEAVE?

One of my favorite details in the suite is the clock in this foyer, with its hands magically poised at 11:59, just on the cusp of midnight, where the magic will never end.

I was an adult when we were invited to that suite. I am fully aware that the artifacts displayed – you know, Cinderella’s crown, scepter and, of course, that glass slipper that changed everything – are props. I know that the Suite was a utility closet prior to 2008 and not the guest room of a timeless fairy tale. I understand that the windows that look out over Fantasyland are frosted not because they’re medieval glass, but to hide the maintenance happening outside the suite while guests sleep upstairs.

I get all of that. But I still felt like a 6-year-old as we rode that elevator decorated with gorgeous gold-accented mosaics, and I was a totally enamored invited guest of Cinderella. That little cinder girl did pretty well for herself.

I remember the bedroom feeling smaller than I had expected, possibly because the regal headboards on the beds seemed so gigantic. Everyone was excited about the bathroom, with the amazing starry ceiling and beautiful tile work throughout, and, yes, the details in it (and the lights changing color in the Jacuzzi!) made it the coolest bathroom I had ever been in, but for me? It was the sitting room that really took my breath away.

Someone once told me, looking at my photos, that the sitting room resembled what she imagined the Gryffindor Common Room at Hogwarts would look like. I can see that. It’s the room with the best view to the outside, which also makes it the room I can stare up into from the Magic Kingdom below. I know that if I ever visited the suite again, that’s the place I’d spend most of my time.

When we left the suite, I remember calling home to tell my family how amazing it was to step into a fairy tale. I also remember literally erupting in tears as I tried to tell the story, standing in the breezeway outside that door crested with a C. It happens a lot to me in Disney World – the littlest thing can make my eyes sweat – and I remember Lisa taking a picture of me as it happened. And then she told me we would get to go up again, so that we’d have a chance to see it at night as well.

Sooooo…yeah, something got in my eye at that point too.

We watched Wishes that night, from my favorite spot on Main Street. I call it my “wishing spot,” but I didn’t make a wish that night. I didn’t need to. 

I have bigger things to accomplish in life than visiting a well-decorated room in a Disney theme park. I have more to do than that, bigger dreams, more important wishes. But that night, standing on Main Street with Molly and Lisa, I felt both satisfied and invincible. Satisfied because a wish had come true, and invincible for the same reason. 

That day fulfilled a dream that a much younger me cooked up without realizing it was implausible. There wasn’t even a suite to visit when I made that wish more than two decades ago. And that just makes anything else seem possible.

Molly started high school this week, which seems like a lifetime away from that surprise trip we took only five years ago. She’s still a great kid, she still loves Disney World, and I hope she still knows that wishes CAN come true. 

She should know. She was a witness to one of mine, and I hope I can be there for a lifetime of hers.

Here we go-o-o-o-o

“Sirius is saying that nsync is going to appear on the vmas.”

That’s how all of this started. One text, and the entire context of my day…nope, week…hell, LIFE has changed.

My boys are back.

It’s not a secret that when I took my *NSYNC vows fifteen years ago, I meant them. The past few days have been nostalgic for a lot of people who have revisited their lives and mindsets circa the turn of the millennium, sharing the ways that *NSYNC sculpted their childhoods, their high school dances, their college years.

I love it. It’s given me a chance to tell stories that no one has wanted to hear for ten years. Tales of roadtrips, and lucky chances, and some of the luck that we made ourselves.

Life has changed for all of us since the last time we saw *NSYNC on a stage together, and even more since we first heard them sing. We’ve all loved, we’ve all lost, we’ve all experienced some of the best and worst the world has to offer.

I delved into my boyband treasure chest (it is definitely a real thing) for some perspective about how my life (and yours) has changed since *NSYNC came into it.

My first blog EVER - Teen People Online

The internet? Yeah, it was probably AOL, it was probably dial up, and if your mom picked up the phone to call your aunt? You were probably getting disconnected. Web pages looked like this (except in color…because back in 1999, our printer did NOT have that expensive color ink.)







Here’s our digital camera circa 2000. It holds a 3.5" floppy disk, to give you an idea of how large it is. 


We never used it for *NSYNC it because the memory “stick” held about four pictures, at a quality of a whopping 1.6 megapixels! 

So we shot regular film at every concert, which meant some pictures looked like this:   

But most of them were more like this:

Not only did it cost a fortune, but you had no idea if any of your pictures were any good until three days later. 

Here’s my adorable cell phone. Not from 2003…this was a phone from the FUTURE. My 2003 phone is on loan to the Smithsonian. So we all get the picture of what my 2003 cell phone looked like. Or, rather, we don't. Because my phone definitely didn't have a camera back then. On the bright side (no pun intended), we also didn't have thousands of screens lighting up the venue back then.

I have an iPhone now. It's also my digital camera.


 
This was how we DVR’d things. And there was no YouTube or streaming, so if you forgot to set your tape? Or someone changed the channel after you set it? NO TRL FOR YOU!

I tried watching some of them two nights ago. It infuriated me that I couldn't skip to the next chapter. Definitely need to transfer these bad boys to DVD soon.

Speaking of which, this is the first DVD I ever owned, and I bought it in 1998 not because we had a DVD player (we didn’t), but because our new GATEWAY COMPUTER (you know, in the cow box?) had one.

The Music of My Heart

It took about three days to download a song over the internet, so all the music I bought came packaged like this. I still have all these cds, in alphabetical order when they're not in a pile on my floor, because every time I migrate to the latest ipod, my *NSYNC playlists have to come with me, and iTunes has a habit of losing precious cargo. 

"Some Dreams," for example. The b-side of a 1997 single released exclusively in Germany. 

You can't find that in the iTunes store.


 
If you wanted to be the first on your block to hear Bye Bye Bye from an actual cd instead of just the radio? You better be sleeping outside FYE when it opened at midnight. And we did.

Lots of us wanted to be the first, as over ONE MILLION copies of the cd sold that first day, and another million that firstweek. It’s a record that still stands today, so SUCK IT BACKSTREET. (Sorry…sorry, that was 2000 Kylene talking. We love you BSB fans, and yes, *NSYNC's numbers are domestic while BSB kills them worldwide, so let's just call it even, shall we?) 

Here's a fun fact. MySpace was founded in 2003. Facebook didn’t even come into existence until a year later, and it would be a few more years before social media would change our landscape of connections. Tonight? I will be live tweeting the hell out of this reunion with my closest *NSYNC friends, and we’ll all be in different states sharing the moment instantly. "Digital Getdown", indeed.
 

Back in 2003, MySpace made me choose a Top 8. If I made a Top 8 of 2013, I'd see exactly one person who would’ve made the list in 2003. Four of the people on my list would be complete strangers back then. And the remaining three? We didn’t talk much ten years ago, but I don’t go a day without talking to them now. Of those people in my 2013 Top 8, there have been six marriages, eleven babies, and two green cards since *NSYNC went on hiatus.

 The funny thing is, even though a lot of changes have been technology the same way any decade will see those things evolve, the ones that really hit you are the changes in lives. The graduations, the marriages, the babies, the moves, the jobs. And I think that’s why everyone is so excited about this reunion. It’s a chance for all of us to revisit the times in our lives when the most important thing in the world was being the first person on your block to hold No Strings Attached.

You're all we ever wanted. You're all we ever needed. Thanks for coming back, *NSYNC.

With Love, Ky Ky Ky

Mastering Communications

Today I unofficially officially became a Master of Communication. I still have a few final things to finish up, but by the end of the summer, the fake diploma I was handed today will be a bona fide degree.

147, guys. That's alotta TV.

I'm not gonna lie - it's been a long road. After nearly two years, I've forgotten what it feels like to have a full night's sleep. Lugging my laptop to work everyday, "lunch" is just a MACOMM workshop, weekends are more often about homework than relaxing, and I have 147 programs waiting for me on the DVR. The patience of my friends and family has been tested, as they've participated in this process in so many ways. From starring in my projects to listening to me vent (and sometimes cry), I'm thankful that none of them of them have cut ties with me completely.

So today, as I donned my cap and gown and that crazy Master's hood, I want to thank those people. If we've had dinner or drinks at any point in the last two years or if you've shared an SHU classroom with me, you know you're included in this list.

Maggie and Rebecca, thank you for reminding me what school was like and how to get the most out of it.

(my) Lori, I don't know if you remember that long conversation we had almost two years ago. The one where I was in tears for most of it? The one where you did what you've always done, giving me unconditional support and encouragement even though you're in another time zone. Thank you. I can't wait til you're back in the RIGHT time zone.

Kate and Cara, thanks to you for being both an inspiration and motivators. Some of my most epic breakdowns were calmed with furry banana emails and Kitchen MacGyver chats. You guys are the spirit of NYC for me.

To all the Scarpas and everyone at Center Stage, thank you for opening up your theater to me. Without you guys sharing your passion with me, I honestly don't know how I would've completed projects I could be proud of.

Sarah (who will probably never read this), thank you for giving me two things - a kick in the ass when I needed it to quit whining, and my favorite little person to make me forget school, at least for moments at a time.

Should not be allowed in class together

Dr. Lori, it was obvious that first night of class when we shared matching Kate Spade phone cases that you would be much more than a professor for me. You've been a mentor and a grounding presence, and I truly appreciate everything you've done to help me excel in the program. Well, everything except the crazy-stare looks you give me in class when we're not supposed to be acting like 14-year-olds but you're trying to prove a point. ;)



Kelly, you and Lori are my MACOMM prizes for sure. I am SO glad we got caught up in the same debate during those early days of online class - nerds will always find their fellows, I guess! I learned as much from you as I did our professors - someday, we'll have an office with a fridge fully stocked with milk. And snacks for Jackson, too.

Best Cheering Section In the World

And finally to the most awesome cheering section in the whole world, Lindsay and Mia. Your support and willingness to forgive my moods, schedule, and (sometimes ridiculous) requests means so much, and I can't thank you enough for being the first ones asking for tickets to be there with me today. I love you guys. May confetti cannons pop wherever you go.

Though certain members of my family (ahem, MOTHER) haven't always supported my decision to go back to school, they've done what they could to make sure I finished. Whether it was one sister packing me meals for those long days or the other sister encouraging me to pursue opportunities or even my mom realizing how much I needed to get away from it all, I know they just want what's best for me.

A lot has happened in the last two years beyond my education. The people I love the most have experienced some of the most significant moments in their lives in those two years, good and bad. Some have celebrated, some have lost, some have overcome the unimaginable. In the grand scheme of things, my MACOMM degree - and the Gold Medal of Excellence I am proud to have earned - might not become the most significant accomplishment of my life, but I hope that the lessons I've learned, the challenges I've overcome, and (especially!) the friendships I've made will keep me going in the right direction.

And someday, I'll get to those 147 recordings on my DVR.

Congratulations, Class of 2013!