Post #6: Wait, there’s a holiday today? (Part 2)

So today is Valentine’s Day; a day dedicated to showing the ones you love just how much you love them by buying them flowers that die in a few days, chocolate that if consumed in its entirety will send you spiraling through sugar highs and tummy aches, and cards expressing just how much you love the other person, except it isn’t even written by you.

Something about all of this has never seemed quite right to me.

Since I was 16, most Valentine’s Day’s I was in a relationship, and yet I’ve still always found this holiday to be a little bit pompous, and a whole lot of annoying. Who are you to tell me that THIS is the day when my love means the most? Who decided there was only supposed to be one day of the year when you tell people how you feel about them? Ya know, there are 364 more days during the year, and to throw the idea of “love” into one specific day seems a little asinine to me. Does this make all the wonderful things I do for my boyfriend on a daily basis less meaningful because they weren’t done on the day society deems the “day of love”? I think not! And I think the entire holiday puts a lame little stigma on relationships and love. Flowers and candy and cards aren’t “love”, and doing nice things one day out of the year ain’t gonna cut it bucko, so how come everyones panties get in a twist when this day rolls around?

Because we stop seeing love as a blessing and see it more as “who is more better off than I am”. And to that I’d like to give a very loud, and very bitter “hmph!”

My Facebook news feed has been flooded with two categories of Valentine’s Day status’: a. those who are in relationships and are gloating about all the wonderful love-filled things and goodies they have received or given and b. those who are single and are mopey about being so. The lovey-dovey ones don’t get to me very much (mainly because of the friends who are writing them, these aren’t just Valentine’s Day specific, they typically post the same adorably sappy things weekly, or sometimes even daily. My friends are pretty cute), but it’s the ones about the people crying about being alone that bother me. And I feel like there’s a good reason for that.

First and foremost, you are posing this on the internet. Probably while on your computer (that you paid for, or that someone who LOVES YOU paid for), in your house (that you can pay for or that someone who LOVES YOU can pay for), and more than likely while you were eating. From this, there are 4 things I’d like to discuss: money, home, food, and family. Do you know how many people are out there right now without those 4 things? People who only WISH they could ever have a computer, or ever be able to pay for the internet, or ever have a roof over their head, or ever have people out there who care about them, or ever have food to eat? Take a moment to think about the grand scheme of things: you are alive, you have friends (yes, you do, I can see them right now…) and people who care about your well-being, you have your health, you have a home, you have enough money to spend on trivial things like a computer, or a cell phone contract, or the internet and cable – how can you spend one moment sitting sullenly thinking “oh golly, since I’m alone on Valentine’s Day I obviously have nothing, and therefore I will spend the rest of the day in a sad state of depression and woe *pout*”? The sun was out today! It was over 40’F here in Boston! Breathe it in deep and pull out a smile, I know you can if you just try.

One of the best pieces of advice my mom ever gave me was that, in the end, the only person you will always have with you no matter what is yourself. Be comfortable with that idea. Take yourself out on a date. Buy the biggest box of chocolates your bank account can handle and watch your favorite movie and eat them alone. There is a magnificent beauty in the idea of aloneness; it’s the one place where you are never judged, you are always the funniest person around, you are always the most attractive person in the room, and no matter what you say you are always right. And, in that, while you might be alone physically I can promise you that you are never really alone. There is always someone – somewhere – keeping you in their thoughts, and that is the best kind of love you can ever hope for.

A good friend of mine has her first real valentine in her whole life this year. She went through some hard times with school and boys…I was there for some of it until she moved from Boston down to the (dirty :P) south. To quote her status: ” I feel excited like a little kid on Christmas day! Except I know Santa isn’t real but LOVE is!” She never, not once, lost hope in the idea that even if right now she was alone, that didn’t mean she would always be that way. In that, she has found a real and true love, and she can celebrate that in all it’s shining, beautiful light because she had accepted herself in a state of aloneness, and when love finally came along she could let it in completely and with opened arms. We all need to have those moments so that we can fully appreciate love when it comes knocking on our doors.

So, on this Valentine’s Day, I say to all of those who are without a significant other, celebrate yourself. Celebrate all the wonderful and beautiful things about YOU that will make that one special someone’s knees weak when you two finally meet. Celebrate all the love you have inside you, and celebrate all those who mean something to you. Because this is a holiday of LOVE, and by that we mean love for everyone: between mothers and daughters (Happy Valentines Day mom, I love you much more than I could ever properly express to you), between friends, between co-workers, between you and that guy who makes you your completely necessary cup of coffee at your favorite coffee shop every single day before you go to work, and most importantly the love you have for yourself. Because if you can’t love yourself, then you’re never going to be able to love anybody else.

And if you still feel as if you have no one, you do have me. I thank you for taking the time to read my silly blog, commenting on posts, and reposting links on Facebook. I thank you for being the people who fuel my desire to write this because you constantly help me know and understand that while there can be such terrible and trying things in life, there is always a silver lining that is worth looking for. And, most of all, I thank you for just trying to be the best you that you can be every single day of your life. And, for all of that, I truly do love you.

Post #5: Wait, there’s a holiday today? (Part 1)

I want to make a real Valentines Day post, but before I get my hands into that I would like to post something I found on Facebook. If this doesn’t humble some people, then I’m not quite sure what will. It’s in the littlest things we sometimes find the real answers to how to stay happy in this world…

“So today I was in Hallmark buying my mom a Happy Birthday card when I noticed this old man standing in front of the Valentines card section contemplating which one to get. I decide to go over and I ask him ‘Are you getting a Valentine’s Day card for your wife?’ in which he replies ‘No my wife died 3 years ago from breast cancer, but I still buy her roses and a card and bring them to her grave to prove to her that she was the only one that will ever have my heart'” -Ravi Patel

Post #4: Woman Sets Out To Help Others Over Herself

I am a firm believer in Newton’s Law. For those of you who are unaware of this phenomenon, Newton’s Law states that for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. (Yes, it’s a law of motion, but I feel it fits for life, too.) For us to understand love we must find hate, for us to understand happiness we must find sadness…for all of these things to be as momentous as they can be, we must fully understand the opposite so we can completely appreciate what the positivity is. Typically, you can only find one positive outcome from one negative outcome: hungry vs. full, emptiness vs. passion, I’m sure by now you understand what it is I’m getting at. There is one action though that I truly believe can spawn a whole mess of positivity: sickness. When I was 16 I was diagnosed with narcolepsy, but that was 6 months after I was passing out up to 5 times a day and no one knew why. I was taken out of school and not allowed to go anywhere or do anything; my mom would even sit on the toilet while I was taking a shower in the off chance (or, I suppose at that point in time the very likely chance) I would pass out and die in a ball of my own body and water. I was depressed, I never wanted to get out of bed, and generally disliked my entire life. From these small disturbances I found a whole new outlook on life. I became more passionate, calmer, stronger, funnier, more patient, a better listener…the list goes on. Sometimes when you find yourself in a deep state of self-loathing that can only be brought upon by a sickness, once you finally find the light it seems to shine so much more than you ever thought it would. I take my new outlook on life, which is burning 9 years strong, with a grain of salt. Even though I found this nice breath of fresh air from all of my despair, there are plenty of people out there who have gone, or are going, through far worse. And, for me, it makes the brilliant things they do burn that much brighter because I know how it can feel.

Cheryl Cascella Confalone, resident of New Jersey and aunt to my lifelong friend Jodi, is one of these brilliant people. After being diagnosed with cancer in 2010, she has decided to take the gift of life as a chance to give back to people who are in the same situations she has found herself in during her trials and tribulations with this disease.

Her bout began in the beginning of 2011, after being diagnosed with stage 3-4 invasive breast cancer. (I’d just like to add a bit in here to say that this post has taken me so long to write up because as I would start writing, I would get blasted with about sixty different emotions, thinking of people from my past and my present who have battled this disease. Some won [I love you Alicia!], some lost, but regardless I found myself in a teary mess before I would give up and try again tomorrow.) The whole trial started off as one would imagine: doctors visit and then chemotherapy. No one likes chemo, but with the grueling monster of Cancer clinging onto Cheryl’s back as an unwanted guest, things like blood clots resulting from the chemo that was supposed to cure her were not something Cheryl wanted to add to her already overflowing plate of life. They say things get darkest before the dawn, but I suppose sometime that darkness can settle in for a little longer than you would plan for it to be there.

Having time to herself, Cheryl started to think of the things that bothered her the most about having this disease. What she came up with wasn’t being weak, or being sick, or feeling sad, it was watching her husband have to do the work of two people, while also trying to maintain the strength that Cheryl so desperately needed to have around her. Even though she had 3 children all grown, she did still have a 12 year old at home, and being in a position where she could be around but not be there alongside her husband  and son was one of the most difficult things for her. “It’s funny, so many people will make excuses as to why they can’t be there to help you, but then there are others who would help when you least expect them to, and it’s a true eye opener.” This made Cheryl decide that even in her sickness, she wanted to be one of those people who would help others whenever and however they needed the help, even if she was still battling this disease herself.

Having worked in the medical field for over 30 years, and having her own private practice in her home since ’89 which you can read more about here, another burden she found with this disease was all the insurance chutes and ladders she encountered. Since so many people are more interested in making a dollar than actually dealing with people, she found herself constantly in shouting matches and giving threats to sue companies for trying to screw her out of what they were obligated to pay. Thanks to all the training she had with her years in the business she could get through all the red tape even when she was going through rounds of 4-hour chemotherapy treatments. Think about that for a moment as a laymen: you’ve got a disease ruining you from the inside out, you’ve just had a grueling session pumping your body full of radiation. You feel sick, tired, sad, and angry, and now you have to get on the phone and convince some white-collar brats not to take advantage of you because you’re so sick. I wouldn’t be able to do it, and I think that a lot of other people would end up cowering in the corner of their lives and let phone calls and debt pile up. But no, not Cheryl. Once she got through it all it did was fuel the fire of her desire to help others from ending up in a situation they felt they could never escape.

With that, Cheryl began the Day By Day Hope Foundation. (You can visit the main page of her foundation on Facebook, here. Or at the organizations website, here) The idea is to help those who need it with the generals of day to day life. Everything from yardwork, to grocery shopping, to insurance billing, no one deserves to go through something like this feeling helpless and alone, and as long as Cheryl is around they won’t have to be. “My friends are my doctors, and they feel this is the piece of the puzzle that has been missing. SO many foundations go to research…being in healthcare I know that there is money there!  But what about the people? Should someone have to choose between medication to save their lives and paying their mortgage? We believe this foundation has the ability to help many!” The idea of Day By Day Hope is to not cure cancer, but to cure the lives of those who are battling the disease. People tend to forget how much outside influence has on how you’re feeling. If someone is sick and they also have the added stress of having to do all the normal little things in life, then deal with the abnormal things like doctors and insurance bills and legal issues, the added factor of all those things will continue to eat away at the victim and keep them feeling sick and down. Imagine if they didn’t have to worry about how they were going to eat or how they were going to pay their bills? All the focus, then, would be on GETTING BETTER, and in reality that’s all any of us ever want for those who are going through something like this.

Even though Cheryl is still in her battle, that doesn’t mean she isn’t strong enough to take the reigns for someone else. The passion, drive, and genuine kindness embodied in Cheryl is a testament to all of humanity. Her willingness to help others is uncanny, and it gives me great hope for the future. Hell, it even makes me feel good, and I hope that it can make you feel good, too.

If anyone is interested in sending donations to Day By Day Hope Foundation, you can send any checks (made payable to Day By Day Hope Foundation) to Cheryl at:

Cheryl Cascella Confalone

90 Sand Hills Rd Kendall Pk, NJ 08824

(You can also make donations digitally at the main website, too!)

Post #3: Man Returns Money To Rightful Owner

Roger Clements found himself in Boston, for the first time, as part of a business trip. In my opinion, a business trip isn’t the proper way to introduce yourself into a new city. First off, you have to pay for a flight to take you from your home into a city you’ve never seen. You painstakingly have to find all the places where your meetings will be held while holding the “let’s just explore this place!” beast at bay. If I were ever in that sort of situation, I feel like I would miss the majority of the necessary information told in these meetings because I would be starring out the window, daydreaming of all the beautiful things I could see or do in this new city. Fortunately, I work at a grocery store and the “business meetings” we have are typically set up as thus: new food item, read label, open a package (or 5, who am I kidding) and devour. Repeat as necessary. Desk jobs are not my forte, so I will leave all this Big Brother hullabaloo to people like Roger.

Navigating yourself around an area you are unfamiliar with can be a trying task, especially in a place like Boston where the majority of the citizens would rather scoff at you and call you a Nancy than even give you a general idea of the place you may be looking for. Either that, or when you finally get enough gusto to actually ask someone where something is, you ask the one new college kid on the street and they look at you with doe eyes that seem to say “AHH I DON’T KNOW, ARE YOU MY MOMMY?! I NEED AN ADULT!!!!!” Somehow, we (Bostonians) always have a way of making already difficult situations that much harder. You can thank us later. Yet with all these newly added stressors, Roger kept the light of life burning bright in his heart, and when you have that much passion and love in your life, no matter what obstacles are in your way you somehow know when to push them onto the back-burner of your life in order to do what’s right.

I find myself on Boylston St. heading into work the moment my life’s path crosses Rogers; he is about 5 paces ahead of me and is clearly looking for someone or something because he is eyes down to his phone, frantically looking around, eyes back down to phone, stops walking, continues walking while awkwardly looking over his shoulder like a sad and scared little puppy searching for its breakfast. Part of this warms my heart because I see he is trying his hardest to do this all on his own. I think I can, I think I can pops into my head and I lay train chugging as the soundtrack for Rogers footsteps, and it makes me laugh. I decide to tail him in the off chance he ends up looking or being ridiculously lost, and if that’s the case I want to be able to help him if I can.

6 paces ahead of Roger is a man who is moving about a millisecond short of a sprint, head forward, obviously heading to some sort of attainable goal. To me, his soundtrack is reminiscent of Mission Impossible, which (ironically) clashes well with the “chug chug” noise I have given Roger. While still keeping Roger on my radar I find myself enthralled with this guy clambering down the street: where is he going? What is he doing? How the hell can I get him wherever he needs to be faster because, obviously, he NEEDS to be there? Part of me thinks Roger has also become interested in this man because he stops looking down at his phone every 2 seconds and maintains a pace that will keep him near the man in front of him. We all continue down the street now theoretically tied to each other with yards of invisible string.

Boylston St. isn’t perfectly maintained, and a rift in the sidewalk catches the first man off guard and he stumbles mid-stride. Catching himself before he actually hits the ground, he hops and continues forward, unfazed by the little bundle that has now slipped out of his front pocket.

I have never, in my life, seen a wad of cash that was THAT BIG. The only thing I could attribute it to was a softball, but I think it was probably bigger. I just know I don’t think I’ve ever had that much money all at one time. New life goal: have as much money as the size of a softball. Extended goal: do not spend it. You do not need any more video games, you child. Reality checks are a bitch, and harder to cash than real ones.

Roger also witnessed this man lose his money, as did the trio of college kids walking down the sidewalk in the opposite direction. At first, no one said or did anything, and then I heard one of the trio say “quick! Before someone notices it!” as he tried to slink slyly over to my side of the sidewalk. I could see his plan unfold in front of me before it even came to be: walk to side of sidewalk where anonymous wad of cash is sitting. Pretend to tie shoe. ‘Oh gee! Money for me?! OKAY I’LL TAKE IT!” I would assume Roger also had a sense of what was going to happen, because as the kid got closer to the money Roger stopped walking, grabbed the kids hand, and said “Sorry, I don’t think so”.

Now at a bit of a run (which I tried to match while also trying to not look like a stalker…), Roger closed the gap between him and the man who lost his money. The closer he got, the slower his pace became which lead me to believe he was trying to figure out what to say. When he finally reached the man, he put out a hand to his shoulder and said “I think this belongs to you” and gave the man his money back. It took the man a second to realize what was going on, until he put one hand into his pocket and figured out what was missing. He let out a chirp of glee, and shook Rogers hand until I thought his arm was going to get ripped clean off.

Apparently, this man had recently been in a horrible car wreck. While he was doing fine, the same fate was not held for his 4 year old daughter, who was still on breathing apparatus’ in the hospital. He had not seen her in almost 5 days, and the money he had on him was to pay for a new car so he could have the means to get to see his daughter, as well as continue his job so he could still have health insurance to pay for her to remain in the hospital. Without this money, he would have lost his job, and had his daughter escorted out of the hospital much too soon. Essentially Roger single-handedly saved this mans family, and his daughters life.

If money is the root of all evil, then I say Roger is life and love cubed.

Post #2: College Senior Stands Up For Homeless Man

Jon Wilkes, who is a college student in the great city of Boston, was incredibly excited to have a day off to do everything he wanted. Dreams of Call Of Duty: Modern Warfare 3, beer, and sitting pants-less on the couch crowded his head and filled him with the sort of joy only other twenty-somethings can understand. But before one can spend the day doing the nothing that they would like, the little things that need to be done, well, need to be done. In light of this, Jon set out to get some grocery shopping done before hunkering down in his home for the rest of the day.

Never in a million years did Jon think that today – of all days – would be a day of embracing community and the ideals of humanity. No one leaves their house thinking “today I am going to change the world”, and yet sometimes that is how life sets it up for us.

With an arm chock full of groceries, Jon set out his trek back home. Those of us who live here and are used to the full-to-capacity streets of Boston, know how to ignore what needs to be ignored, weave in and out of the bodies of those who obviously assume they own the entire sidewalk, or when to say “golly gee, I really don’t have any change for you. *snicker*” We also know when to step in when the moment calls for it, and today it seemed Jon was in touch with his psudo-superhero self and was waiting for the right moment to let him free.

There are tons of homeless people in Boston. Most of them keep to themselves, peddling for whatever extra change you might have lying around that they can scrape from you. Some get ticked off when you tell them you don’t have any money, some really don’t care and just want you to walk on by so they can ask the next unsuspecting person for their change. Either way, there are many in this city who have nothing, and they’re just looking for some comfort and, in most cases, some money to get themselves a meal for the day.

Picture an older man, veteran in his mid-70’s, ratty clothing, sitting on his walker on the side of the street. He quietly asks “spare some change” when you walk by, and regardless of your answer (if you even do answer him) he will always tell you to take care, and God bless. Today, the man he asked for money apparently had some sand up his butt, and when he was asked to spare any change the last nerve he was clinging to snapped like an over-tuned guitar string.

I wish I could properly express the shouting and anger of this man. I wish I could show you the rage flooding through his face, could tell you all the hate-filled bullshit that he spat out of his mouth, all while only being mere inches away from the old man. I feel like the lot of you would be as appalled as I was watching/hearing this happen.

Cue Superhero Jon (dun dun dun dun!)

Stepping right in the middle of the homeless man and the man sized screaming child, Jon created a wall that wasn’t about to be moved with shouting or vile words. He simply starred at the man who was still whining, obviously looking for some sort of attention from people who really didn’t give a lick about him. When there was a break in the screaming, Jon started to lay into the man. Talking about how rude and unkind of a person he was, and how reacting like this proved it. About how he knows nothing about his homeless man, and in that respect should have nothing to say about his life. About how, sometimes, everybody needs a little help, and we as the same people of the same community should help in whatever way we can. “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t you dare say anything at all”. The quarel went on for a few minutes, and when Jon was finished telling the man exactly what he thought, the man just walked away head hanging down, now embarassed about how he had reacted and the things he said. He walked away without breathing another word.

The homeless man sat there the entire time just watching Jon fight for him. I could see him welling up, and rightfully so. So many times the homeless people of this city are ignored by the masses, who just assume they are dead-beats who drink too much or do too many drugs and that’s the reason they’re homeless. Sometimes, people don’t seem to understand what a real state of distress this country is in, and how some times it’s not the persons fault that they can’t make ends meet. I don’t think anyone really wants to have to go sit out on the side of the street, asking people they don’t know to spare some money they probably don’t have, but if that’s all you can do then it’s better than starving on the side of the street. I don’t think he was ever expecting someone to stand up for him like this; someone to treat him like an equal, someone made of the same cloth as the rest of us Bostonian’s. I, also, don’t think he was expecting the following thing to happen, either.

Jon looked over to the man and gave him a pat on the shoulder. He, then, handed the man his full bag of groceries. “Sometimes people just wake up on the wrong side of the bed. I want you to have these, you need them more than I do.” He smiled, and walked away even before the homeless man could say thank you. I don’t think he needed to hear it – the mans eyes said it all.

Post #1: Hello Internet!

This is my first time with a Word Press blog, as well as my first post on said blog. I would like to start out by saying: hey there internet world, thanks for inviting me to the party. As I work out the kinks of this site, I ask you to please bear with me in the next coming weeks, as I assume things will change, change back, and change a third time over and over until eyeballs would bleed. I will try as hard as possible not to become a nuisance, but I make no promises haha.

 

I live in Boston and have been here for 7 years. If there’s one thing we have an abundance of (other than underage drinking) it’s jerks; there is a definitive reason we are referred to as “Massholes”. I go through my daily life either ignoring them, or allowing them to tug at my nerves and rile me up all while trying to maintain that “I am okay, I swear I am okay” facade. I am happy to say most days I can get through it all without starting a ruckus. I feel like myself, as well as the general population of the world, are constantly focusing on all the things that bring us down. The things that annoy us, anger us, make us want to curb stomp puppies…nowadays there are so many things to worry about that sometimes it’s hard to see the most beautiful things that are starring you right in the face. If you take a minute to notice them they will change your outlook for the entire day, there’s a reason the phrase “stop and smell the roses” was coined.

 

The idea of this blog came to me while on a drive with my mother. I recalled a story for her that I will now recall for you all.

 

I was on the T (which is the God-awful subway system in the city of Boston) heading into the city to go to work. I, like almost every other person on the T, had my iPod on and was reading the newspaper (if you can really call the Metro a newspaper…but I call “news” The Daily Show so I suppose I’m slightly skewed) in my own little bubble of wonderfulness. It was eutopic. Beautiful day, no one was bothering me, and no one was screaming/crying/being crazy during this ride so I wasn’t about to do or say anything to disturb the Gods and take away this very comfortable commute into work. A girl about 16 years old hops onto the train and sits down in one of the single seats in front of me (the left side of the train is set up with single seats, the right side has double seats) and pulls out her iPod, pulls up Facebook on her phone, and gets out a book to read while on the train. She, too, had taken this uncommonly wonderful morning ride as a sign to do her thing in hopes of keeping the spirit of happiness alive in her life for a little while. I see her drift off into her own mind and then jump back into my own.

 

At the next stop a man gets on the train – an older man – a grandfather even. He stumbles up the stairs and slides into one of the double seats across the isle from the girl in front of me. I watch as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat, looking around as if he’s searching for someone. The doors close and the train putters off along the tracks and we all take a minute to stare out the windows and watch the trees fly by.

 

Before we reach the next stop I see him lean towards the girl in front me me who has her nose stuffed so far in her book I thought there had to be food in it she was eating. I would like to note that during the duration of what is to follow I had my iPod in the entire time, so I mostly read facial and body expressions, but in all seriousness words were unnecessary either way. The man leans forward and mouths something to the girl. She looks over at him questioningly and pops out an ear-bud. He repeats what he said and I see her laugh and point to her book; she gives some sort of answer she felt was sufficient and returns to her world, this time going on Facebook on her phone. The man is quiet for a moment, and then asks another question. This is where it gets good: the 16 year old teenager, who – as a normal teenager – probably only cares about boys, homework, friends, and hating her parents, put her iPod, book, and cell phone all into her purse, and swung around in her seat to face the man and properly talk to him. I watched them converse for what seemed like hours, not having awkward pauses (ya know, the ones that say “I really don’t want to be talking to you anymore” without even breathing any words), and bouts of general interest in what each other was saying. She even moved into the seat next to him halfway through the ride so he could hear her better and would stop having to put a cupped hand to his ear. She stayed with him until she reached her stop, and when she left shook his hand and even bent down to give him a kiss on the cheek. My stop was the stop after and I had removed my iPod upon her departure. I was happy to hear that he didn’t even know her; I figured  her outgoingness to have a conversation with this man had to be because she knew him, or knew someone who knew him. The pleasant surprise to know they were strangers to each other, and how she had brightened this mans day just by talking to him for a little while, filled my heart with this absolutely annoying amount of glee that I thought rainbows and unicorns were going to pop out of my chest. In retrospect I wish they had popped out of my chest because that would have been badass, and a reasonably hilarious reason to call out of work. “Sorry guys, I’m vomiting glee right now. Catchya later!”

 

When I told my mom this story, and the others I told the day it happened, I could also see the joy fill them up, and I could see how just hearing the story of this wonderful young woman had given them a pep-up for their own day. More often than not we see headlines that read “16 year old girl gets raped and killed” or “16 year old girl drinks too much and crashes car” but what about “16 year old girl thinks about a lonely old man, and not herself, for 15 minutes and changes a life”? That’s what we need to be reading in a world full of war, financial ruin, and impending doom.

 

In this blog, I will bring you stories of the wonderful things I see during my life in Boston. I’m hoping once I get my business cards (so I don’t look like a creep haha) I can get photos and interviews from the people who are the Good Do’ers so you all can also meet them firsthand. There IS goodness in the world, sometimes you just have to look for it.