What Puts You in Holiday Spirit?

I used to absolutely LOVE Christmastime. I remember being in college frantically studying for all of my finals so I could just be home and celebrate Christmas with the family. My family has many Christmas traditions.

My family celebrates a "Baking Day" where everyone comes together to cook their specialty recipes. It's probably one of my favorite days out of the entire year. I have a major sweet tooth. We all carry containers and trade our leftovers. So you may only make cookies, but you go home with cookies, fudge, rice krispies, etc.

 My aunt Denise makes peanut butter fudge every year. I'm salivating right now just thinking about it.  She alway sent me some in the mail when I was in Japan too. My aunt Linda, always brings over sugar cookies for the kids in the family to make. And by kid, I mean, the kids and me. I love decorating sugar cookies. Baking day is a terrible idea in theory because I FEEL that everything needs to be tasted prior to bake and after baking. Why waste the brownie mix that can't be 100% scraped out of the bowl. There are kids around the world who would love to lick that spoon. I make that job my boss. I go home with a stomach ache. I make oatmeal raisin cookies from scratch that the family swoons about. I really don't see what the big deal is about them. I've never loved them as much as everyone else. I rarely even eat them. My brother used to pay me (well, in a meal a taco bell) to make a batch for him. My mom makes ginger bread cookies (which  I could destroy in one sitting if I wanted to). All in all, its a really lovely day.

So it got me thinking. What is Christmas really? I know that everyone celebrates for different reasons but the reasons that stick out in my mind are family traditions or memories that I look back on and appreciate. Half of the traditions and memories totally beat opening up Christmas presents. I guess Christmas is more of a feeling. Like the feeling of knowing that when you go to your Aunt's house for Christmas there will be pimento cheese sandwiches, soup and homemade chili. All these little holiday things beat the big things for me.

My first apartment in Cullowhee, NC, whom I shared with Katie Blumsack, was nothing but mismatched furniture and a fridge stocked with cheap beer  and nothing else. This was the very apartment that I purchased my very first Christmas tree. I saved up $15 that was suppose to go on gas and cheap mexican food and spent it on a 3 foot white Christmas tree with white lights instead. Caroline and I set it up on Halloween night with pink and white ornaments. Honestly it looked like my tree exploded in pepto bismol, but it was exactly what I wanted at the time. I was so thrilled with seeing it in the window everyday when I arrived home. That tree stayed up until well after Valentine's day. I was so proud. You couldn't pay me to put that tree in my apt now. It was absolutely hideous. It's funny how your tastes change over the years. Rose and white were pumping through my veins at the time. (Only Phi Mus will get this reference).

Back in the day, I jammed out to those ridiculous stations that played Christmas music 24/7. I've always loved the classics. But they threw some in that I hated too.

Here's a list:
1.) "The Drummer Boy" (and you'll be singing that for the rest of the day)
2.) Wonderful Christmastime" C'mon Paul is this really necessary?
3.) "Little Saint Nick" The Beach Boys
4.)"All I Want for Christmas is my Two Front Teeth" (my two front teeth...my two front teeth"
5.) Oh and "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer"

And the song to take it all is Ricky Martin, "Ay Ay Ay Its Christmas" It will literally make you want to shoot your eyes out. If you've never heard it, you're gonna kill me, but here it is. Have a listen.

Last year when I was away from home I had all my friends and families send me pictures of Christmas trees through Facebook. I was absolutely flooded with pictures. It was hard being in the holiday spirit so far from home.

But there was one picture that I cherished last year and I've always cherished it in person. This tree resides in Gates County, NC. It's never been anywhere else, but before I get ahead of myself with trees.... first, christmas ornaments.Which ones are your favorite? With Christmas traditions as my topic, I'm sure many families have traditions and ornaments passed down through the years. Maybe this question is hard for some, but for me this is easy.

My favorite ornament is a white dove. Well, it was once white...now it is more of a dirty beige. It is missing the string that hangs it to the tree. The felt is worn off in places, the black eye is gone, and the words, "Danielle 1988' have long faded. It was probably purchased at a dollar store ages ago, but the story doesn't stop here.

At my Grandma's house every Christmas, the Truman Greene family sets up a beautiful big christmas tree with sparkling white lights, silver ornaments and a tree filled with white doves. Most of the ornaments are older than myself. You see, each bird represents a family member, and if the Truman Greene family has anything, it's lots of white doves. I'm happy to say we've had some new additions to our family christmas tree this year. Through marriages or births, whenever you join the "Truman Greene Family" you are granted a white dove to sit upon the Truman Greene Christmas tree, with your name and birth year inscribed. This isn't something to take lightly by the way. A bird atop this tree is truly a welcome! I cannot wait for Zachary to get his dove. I can't wait to watch him get excited about searching for his name on the tree. I've always loved finding my bird on the tree. I used to move it closer to Jonathan or Daddy's name when I was younger. Shhh, don't tell Grandma, I messed with the ornaments when I was a kid!

Before I came to Japan in August of 2011, I asked my grandma for my white dove. I wanted a part of the family beside me and what better way than to have my dove. Grandmama was skeptical at first about the bird fleeing the Truman Greene family tree, as I'm sure she was skeptical about me being halfway across the world. I told my grandma, that the bird would see the world and would one day fly back home. More importantly, taking my dove with me would be a way to take my family with me and always be home. You see, family isn't a holiday thing; it's a year round thing. Soon, she began to feel more comfortable about releasing the bird from the tree.

So the bird has now returned home. I took very good care of it while it was away. Everytime I opened my zach on deployment...there it was. It now sits on a shelf in my apartment in VA beach. I would not dare enter Grandmama's house this Christmas without it, for this bird is ready to fly home and land on that tree.

Who knew that a christmas ornament could evoke so many feelings? Who knew that a cd could send a vibe to carry me home to the Truman Greene family, an ocean away. The simple strum of a mandolin or pluck of a bass guitar…and there I am. HOME.

When I was in Japan away from home on Christmas day I could care less that it was Christmas. Friends were working. My family was sleeping. I didn't care at all that it was Christmas. Mostly I just wanted it to pass. I settled for sushi or Ramen and anxiously awaited my 15 days of leave....or when I could come home.

So this year for Christmas, I am blessed to be home. I am sad that I cannot celebrate it with Zach this year. But I know that when he arrives in January we can have Christmas all over again. Because I don't care about the presents, or the terrible music played on the radio and I can watch Elf whenever I want. Christmas is but a day to appreciate the ones you love (and the ones who drive you crazy). December 25th is the official day but it can be celebrated as often as possible. Because, when isn't the right time to tell someone you care and appreciate them? And Christmas doesn't truly happen until you're with the ones you love.

Feels Good to Be Back

My family is all about music. We've got musical talent threaded into our veins. My dad plays an assortment of instruments. My Grandma sings and plays guitar. My granddad turns 90 this year, and he is still a pickin' his old mandolin. My uncles all sing and/or play drums, steel guitar, guitar, etc. My aunt sings. My brother plays drums. I however, don't do any of those things. Ok, well sometimes I sell the cd's or run the sound board. But musically speaking...I jam out in the shower... Or the car... but only when no one is with me. But when I say jam out....I mean air guitar, head shaking,...we should probably be concerned about my driving abilities. My show would definitely sell out if I allowed it. Good thing I'm not going pro. Celebrity status is rough.

My family and I were talking the other, while tailgating at an ECU game. There was beer, there was bojangles, PURPLE, GOLD....okay I'm probably losing you with the college football references. (Whatever, it's my blog) Anyways, my parents did a good job of instilling my brother and I, to absolutely love music. It didn't stop at one music genre. either.  Sure, I had Hank Williams, Johnny Cash, Merle and Buck, but the Beatles were there too. As a child I ruined Yellow Submarine for myself. Never again will I play it. It forever be skipped. How on earth my dad survived "We all live in a yellow submarine...yellow submarine... yellow submarine" sung over and over again, by a 5 year old, I might add, is beyond me.

I had motown, and beach music. I lived "Under the Boardwalk." I heard shag music. I heard bluegrass, and I heard bluegrass some more. It stayed with me. I guess what I'm getting at is, I totally get music. I understand it. The feelings evoked are truer than any tv show. Sometimes it even beats conversations with people. I cannot fathom getting up in the morning and turning on the news. SO much depression, sadness, boring politics...ughh. I'd rather hear anything other than the news. I can read about all that stuff. Zachary and I have discussed this. Coffee goes much better in the morning, with the positive vibes that music emits. The news would just put a damper on not only my day, but, my coffee, as well.

So, I guess what I'm getting at is, God missed the memo  to give me any thread of musical talent. Sure, I love and appreciate it, but I can't play a lick of anything.  He gave me writing abilities instead. Totally fine by me. I used to be better about writing. Since joining the navy, I haven't been loyal to this blog, but I hope to continue to grow as a writer, even if I never make it a career.

I would say I am kind of crafty as well. The kind of, comes in when I decide to conquer a task a bit too challenging. Have you seen those pinterest fails? Yeah that's me sometimes. I hate to admit it but its true. I lack the patience that is necessary of a true artist. Paint drying...."Oh my god. I just want to finish it today!!!" "Maybe I can just, maybe its dry here....nope still wet... shit!!! I totally messed it up now."

People get into the holiday spirit in different ways but my idea of spreading Christmas cheer is making handmade gifts. Give me a cup of coffee, and Ed Sheeran and I'll fill the entire night up. This is a picture of me above. Instead thogh, it's Sam Smith. Shhh...don't tell Ed.

 Since returning from Japan, I turned into a grinch. Honestly, I mean, what can you expect, I've missed Christmas 3 years in a row and the first Christmas back, my fiancé is in Japan still. Forgive me for not being so jolly as I should. But I don't care much about celebrating Christmas without him. I put a tiny tree up (thanks mom) and I have some red accents in the apartment. I go through phases of painting canvases, wooden boxes, ornaments, etc. My hobby currently is wood burning.

I was working on this absolutely beautiful wood burned sign for a family member, and when I was finally finished I realized that I wrote a cursive 'S' instead of a cursive 'I' in the sentence. And I thought, (2 glasses of wine down) "Oh I can fix this. I'll just make the I look fancy." So, I attempted to put a swirl in the cursive S but it just ended up looking like half a fish. "Well it IS a bible verse, perhaps I can just, oh crap...it really looks like a fish now." I called Caroline (a true artist) with what I should do. "It's okay Danielle, from far away...you can barely even tell. Or maybe you can turn it into an eyeball" I appreciated her input, but, far away or close up...it still just looked like an I with a christian fish through the middle of it, which makes absolutely no sense at all. But then again, neither did turning it into an eyeball. Back to Michaels I went.

Question: how do you go into Michaels with one thing on your list and come out with three bagfuls? Do you do that or is it just me? That dollar row gets me every time!!! "Oh, stationary... do they have a D? Yes!!!! My initial, for a dollar...why not!?! And these cool candle votives are RED. Now that is so Christmasy. I MUST buy them. Oh this is a nice antique looking key. I could buy this for the tree that it will CERTAINLY NOT FIT ON....but it is only a dollar....." I think Michaels brainwashes you while you are standing in line.

I have absolutely no idea what to title this because it was suppose to be about music and here I am writing whimsically on Michaels and trying to be crafty. Sorry. I lost my creative side while I was stationed in Japan. And if this is my creative side...ramblings on the most random subjects that make no sense, I'll take it because I never feel more myself than during the constant clickings of the keyboard.

Engaged!!!!

Journal entry while underway, July 29, 2014
"I love him. I love him. I love him. I just want to be able to kiss him everyday, and sleep soundly cuddled next him at night. I am interested in no one else. A ship full of men and you couldn't pay me to cash him in. No trades. I've won. Finally someone who gets me but challenges me too. I can't fail with him by my side. He won't allow it. I can't doubt myself but instead I'm forced to grow. At 26, with that thought imagine how capable we'll be in 20 years. I no longer have lonely moments when alone but instead I'm empowered in my thoughts. It's absolutely crazy where life takes you. He brightens my day"

I always thought of a fairy tale romance with everything laid out before me. I dreamed of a prince charming growing up. I think every young girl does. But I realized what I wished for in movies isn't necessarily what it is needed in my life. Sure I get compliments daily. I get breakfast prepared for me with smiles. I get kisses before coffee and cupcakes whenever I want. I have that wavering feeling of "Man, this guy is the one." But I don't have someone who gives me my way all the time. I don't always have the right answers and I don't always win my battles. (Even when I want to soooo bad.) It's 2014, and I'm convinced that prince charming isn't like the movies.  There aren't Cinderella's. They just don't exist. But you know what does? Danielle and Zachary. Who wants to watch a movie about a girl who lost her shoe when they can hear a real love story unfold?

 No one will love you the way you think they should. I'm telling you, our girlish expectations can never be met by men these days because people are only capable of loving you with their whole heart on their own terms. Isn't this so much better than getting exactly what you want? The love they provide will not give you exactly what you ask for? It may not put you on a pedestal. My love story isn't boring. It takes work. I do get spoiled but its about so much more.

You can have your family who loves you regardless  of the decisions you make but its important to have someone to drive you crazy. Someone that will push all your buttons, all at once. Zachary loves to push buttons. He's downright rotten. He'll push them all and watch the sirens flash in my head and wait for the steam to rise then sweep me off my feet and make me smile or laugh again. I think its a game to him.  But who is truly winning, my friends?

I am  capable of so much more than I give myself credit for. Its important to me to have Zach in my life. He puts his confidence in me (when I lack my own) well past the moon and stars. He pushes me so out of my comfort zone, into the unknown. It's scary and I think I'm not capable. but I make it. I make it with flying colors. And all the while that I think I won't survive, I blossom into a stronger more independent woman with a man right by my side.

I'm a self motivator. Always studying, always trying to be better, trying to be kinder but what I have in motivation I lack in self confidence. This is where Zach comes in, he's my confidence when I need it, and I'm his motivation to continue on. He is so proud and confident in his abilities, but sometimes he needs a small push. I'm his push.

Anyways, to get to the love story…

It was in his pocket the whole time. It was there during a bowling date, mash up music blaring and a fabulous steak dinner. It was there every morning as we arose to bad morning breath, and smothered kisses in laughter. It was there  during the lovey dovey feelings, Skype dates, and religious conversations over downed beers. It was there with my best friend. He had it is his back pocket the whole time.

We had just arrived to Atsugi after a 4 day trek across Japan with only book bags on our backs. We were both excited about laying bed, being lazy and cooking meals together after walking EVERYWHERE. We wanted a normal life for two weeks. We wanted to spend time with each other, just the two of us. Our trek was truly unforgettable. We stood under the Itsukshima shrine on Miyajima island just off the coast of Hirashima. It was night time and the water was up to our knees almost. We kissed underneath the shrine and I swear it was like the movies. The rain started pouring down from the sky and we laughed, and continued to kiss. It would have been the perfect proposal story. But that shrine is not my proposal story. Nor, do I wish it was. Traveling is something that Zach and I will always share. No matter where we go, all the places we've been would all make a beautiful proposal but I like our story better, because its real. 

After two incredible weeks in Atsugi we returned to Yokosuka because Zach had work in two days. Our last day together, we chose to go to Yokohama. Yokohama is a nice area of Japan with many things to do. We went to a lovely rooftop wine bar that night. I looked beautiful  I wore a vintage dress and sported red lips, limited eye make up and cute flats. I think he was going to propose here but I never went to the bathroom. His plan was to ask the bartender to take a picture/video when I came back from the bathroom, but I never went. (I didn't know I was suppose to go!) 
The next morning I was interested in going to H&M and Zach wanted to ride the ferris wheel.  We went to H&M but when it came time to ride the ferris wheel I was behaving like a butt head. It was raining and I felt self conscious about my hair. "Babe, do we really have to ride the ferris wheel. We've already ridden it a bunch of times?" I said. "No we don't have to go. It's ok. I don't want to go if you aren't interested in it." I later learned that Zach was planning a proposal in that ferris wheel, and that's why he wanted to ride it so bad. Instead, we sat on a curb (kind of) and watched the people go by, shielded from the rain until it stopped. We listened to music took pictures, talked about life, etc. He said he thought about proposing there too, but he was nervous, I guess. It was a lovely time. 
Zach stalled on the way back to Yokosuka. I didn't want to leave him yet either, so we stopped at the hub for happy hour. We have great memories of the hub very early on in our blossoming relationship, so I was more than obliged to go. As we were drinking our drinks we played a game. I name something to draw and whosever was prettier got a point. I don't even know what we drew. We drew lots of animals, houses, trees, etc. Finally he said, "Write something sweet, and whosever is better wins." I wrote three of the simplest sweetest words I could think of….."red velvet cake." I was grinning ear to ear when he looked up, he was writing a love story and I was being sarcastic. I think he was going to propose after we read our sweet napkins to each other. Oops! I didn't know those were his plans but, man that would've been smooth had I taken the game seriously. 
In scribbled messy handwriting his napkin said, "I can't imagine spending my life with someone else other than you. You complete me in every way possible. You really are the best thing that happened to me. I love you!"  I read it and said something along the lines of, "I love you too!!! I want to spend my life with you." He replied, "Well there's a chapel around the corner, lets go get married…" Very confidently I replied, …"No we can't do that. There's steps first."
And the conversation continued and moved on to something else. We left and as we were headed home, Zach says, "You sure you don't want to get married, the chapel is right over here…" We had just crossed the bridge and the subway was racing by above us as japanese people walked by. "Babe no! There's steps you have to propose first. " 
I think he was waiting for me to say something like that. And he got down on one knee. I started hitting him in the chest and protested "No Zach, get up! Get up! Get up. I'm not gonna let you ruin this for me. You don't even have anything!" And I began to walk away. He questioned, "Do I?" I turned around and watched him. He was down on one knee still as people passed by us. He pulled a box out of his back pocket and my knees truly felt weak. (I know that sounds cliche to say but they really did. My face was bright red too.) 
"I love you soooo much. Will you marry me?" I said, "Yes of course" with shaking hands he slid the ring on my left finger. Japanese couples continued to walk by. They were smiling and holding each other closer. I brushed the concrete off of his knee and we sat down on the curb. I hit him once more in the chest and smiled because, there would have been no other way for Zach to propose. Japan is us.

(August 14, 2014)

Demolition Site

In every relationship, you have two people, and those two people have heightened feelings of endearment towards one another, but the problem is those feelings don't always match every minute of every day in the beginning. Relationships take constant work at having faith in each other and not giving up when the going gets tough.

I am the person with built up walls. Cement and brick is tattooed on my skin, and a do not enter sign hangs on the walls, but what happens when someone rings the doorbell…repeatedly. Or a tiny flower grows through the cement cracks?

You are the weed that grows through the grey cement. You are the sledgehammer to knock down the walls…you just haven't found the sledgehammer yet. Don't give up. It's hidden around the building somewhere. Unlike most, my heart isn't on my sleeve. That would be too easy. Consider yourself a hero, because I know you're here to stay and up for the challenge.

When cement walls are built around a heart they aren't constructed for style. They are messy, dusty, and dangerous. Loving me will be like walking through a demolition site. Tears will fall like shrapnel from the sky. It will take time to knock each wall down. There will be nothing like it. Time. You have the patience so as each wall falls, re-stich my heart back together in crazy colors. Make my heart explode with reds and blues. Paint a rainbow where the demolition site once was. As all the walls are finally gone, don't walk away. New walls can rise. Tattoo them in front of the rainbow. There will be nothing like it. Instead of living in a run down cement building, inhabited by many in the past….we can build whatever we want around this heart. How about a fence, so after you, no one else can make it in? Tattoo it there, in front of the rainbow.

Because this heart has new feelings. I can feel it. It's unsteady beat is long gone. Today it beats to the rhythm of laughter. And it's stitched in colors unknown. Don't give up. Peel back the layers of doubt. Plow through the field of loneliness, and sweep the ground where the fence around my heart will go. Who knows, maybe you were suppose to fall for me. I was suppose to ruin your plans and you are the only one to find the sledgehammer tattooed on my skin, tucked neatly, near my heart.