Things you should be complimenting me for

This one is dumb, but I guess we have to get past it...

Day 12: Something you never get compliments on

Really?! Who keeps track of what they never get compliments on? How do you even know to think of these things? Does someone actually keep tabs of "oh, I did something awesome today, and no one gave me props?" I have no idea. But just for fun's sake, here are some things I don't think I've ever been complimented on:

• Being claustrophobic
• How graceful I am
• My hatred for the stuffing cooked inside the turkey and subsequent demand for separate stuffing
• Knowing nothing about the members of the bands I claim as my favorites
• My ability to crack my toes
• My stubby eyelashes
• The way I claim that I can remember long random strings of numbers very easily and then say "I'll show you. What's your credit card number?"
• My blanket-hogging abilities
• My texting while driving skills (just kidding, Mom)
• The way I hate to rinse dishes because that's what the dishwasher is for, duh
• The freckle on my left middle toe

There you have it. A few awesome things about me that no one has ever complimented me on. Probably along with this post....

Little stream

Day 11: Something people seem to compliment you the most on

If there is one thing I get the most compliments on - and always have - it's my name. Brooke. Say it with me: "Brooke." Sounds nice, huh? It even looks pretty, if I may brag just a little bit. I love that it's always suited me and is timeless. It was just as appropriate for me at 4 years of age as it is at 29. I love that you can't tell from my name how old I am, the way people would be able to make a pretty good stab at my sister Megan's age. As it's ranked at #52 in the U.S., it's nicely uncommon while not being out there in a way that would make people go, "say whaaaat?" I usually hear "that's a pretty name," or "you don't hear that often." When Dan and I have children, we hope to choose names similar in that way. I can't imagine having any other name, I think it suits me just perfectly.

Having the name Brooke puts me in a pretty elite group of awesome people. I'm among Miss USA (Brooke Angus), actresses (Brooke Burns and Brooke Shields - of course), models (Brooke Burke), Olympic athletes (Brooke Abel and Brooke Shaw), a wealthy philanthropist/socialite/novelist centurian (Brooke Astor), former NFL cheerleaders (Brooke Emerson and Brooke Wicker), and even someone who's famous for trying to be famous (Brooke Hogan). Not a bad league to be in, eh?

How do you feel about your name? Do you like it? Do you looooove it? If not, what would you change it to?

Dropping dead weight

I'm luckily not in a situation currently where this applies to me, but I can elaborate on the couple of experiences I have had with dropping "dead weight"...

Day 10: Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn't know.


We've all had them - that friend that becomes a frenemy and then maybe just becomes toxic. Unfortunately, they don't always realize that's how you see them. That's when difficult conversations have to be had. I've had to have that "conversation" twice in my life. I say "conversation" (with little air quote fingers) because it was more like an email from me explaining I didn't want to be friends anymore. This may not be the method everyone would prefer, but it works for my in my favorite ripping-off-a-bandaid kind of way. It's not fun, and it's not easy, but in both cases, I felt it had to be done.


The first was a college friend. We'd been very close our junior year, then drifted a wee bit after she graduated (I did two more years due to changing majors and schools), and then we became coworkers at my first job. We liked working together and we were fine and I thought we were tight. And then she got engaged. And she asked our whole crew from college to be her bridesmaids... except for me. She was insensitive - in my opinion - about it. She'd ask me what I thought about bridesmaid dress designs, wedding plans, and bridal party gifts. She never had a conversation about why I'd been excluded. For the record, I didn't feel I deserved to be a bridesmaid, just that I thought it was hurtful that I was the only one left out. It just showed me that our friendship clearly didn't mean to her what it meant to me. Later in her planning, she excluded only one of her fiance's five siblings (his sister who didn't end up attending the wedding at all, she was so hurt) and I noticed a pattern of thoughtlessness. I ended the friendship just under a year after her wedding. It just had become more hurtful than mutually beneficial and I was ready to cut ties.


Recently, I mentioned that I needed to sever myself from another friend, and I did in August. We had been coworkers at the job before my current one and kept in touch since we both left the company. She was supportive while I was planning my wedding, and it was also during that time that she was pregnant with her son. However, there was always something that bothered me about her and that was the way she was so jealous and hateful in the way she spoke of her step-children, as well as controlling of her husband. She would complain to me endlessly about her fights with her husband, mostly involving her step-son and how she wanted the kid (who was 15 when they married) out of her home. She fully intended to kick her step-son out of their house when he was 18, without any regard for her husband's wishes or where the kid would go. Basically, she wanted to have her little family with her husband and their son, and her step-kids could disappear into thin air for all she cared. Anything else her husband did that wasn't exactly how she wanted resulted in a fight, sometimes leading to them not speaking for days. I tried to respectfully tell her when I thought she was being ridiculous but it was met with, "well, you don't know. Dan doesn't have kids, he doesn't have an ex wife."


From my perspective, her life was just chaos, and most of it was caused by her over-reacting. I did like her, and I liked hanging out with her, so for a while I justified it with "sometimes nice people do shitty things," but then I realized that the things she was doing reflected an ugliness inside her. At some point, I just grew exhausted. So I wrote her an email one day and - very successfully restraining myself and my true opinions - told her that I didn't think we should communicate anymore. It's been one of the best decisions I've made. My weeks are much less drama filled (she literally fought with her husband weekly) and I don't constantly feel like I'm biting my tongue.


It's not easy letting a friend go, and I'm thankful that the friends I currently have in my life are true and wonderful friends. I prefer quality over quantity when it comes to friendships, and it's lead to me having meaningful and long-lasting relationships in my life.

Silly Sal

Day 09: Someone you didn't want to let go, but just drifted

My freshman year of high school was an awesome time. I'd narrowly survived middle school, and high school was all about new beginnings: I started competitive (not synchronized) swimming, went to a new school (obviously), and met new friends. The awesome thing about my high school is that I'd gone to elementary with many people in my class since I'd been in magnet schools from kindergarten to 4th grade. So I had new friends and old friends that were new again.

One of the truly new friends was Sally. Sally was awesome! She was fun and silly, and we had similar personalities. She was also funky, creative, and out-going, which at that point in my life, I really wasn't. She introduced me to a lot of new people, and was also friends with people from my elementary school. We rode the bus to and from school together and had English together our freshman year. I remember us both melting into fits of giggles over the words "me thinks" and "fickle" while reading Romeo & Juliet. Why we thought that was so funny, I don't know, but we did.

Sally always had the most fun parties. Her birthday was in May, which was perfect for an outdoor Saturday night party in her parents' backyard. They were always costume parties - she'd split the invitees up by grade or alphabet and assign categories for costume theme. One year I had to be a Disney character, another year I was a hippie and wore my mom's wedding dress. It was at one of her parties where I first bonded with my very good friend, Rachel.

Basically, hanging out with Sally was just fun. We were always good friends in high school. We hung with the same crowd both in and outside of school. It's not like we were joined at the hip or anything, but we got along really well and spent quite a bit of time together. On Friday or Saturday nights, we'd always all get together at our hangout, Coffee Etc. and just chill.

When we graduated, I went away to Northern Arizona University and she stayed in Tucson to go to the University of Arizona. Since most of our group of friends went to NAU, she came and visited a few times, and we'd always meet up with her whenever we visited.

But like many friends do, we drifted apart. It sucks, because she is still awesome, but now she lives in Texas. I see her on Facebook (she just had a baby girl) and stuff, but I haven't actually seen her in person in probably 5 years, and even that was a brief run-in at a bar in Tucson. I wish we'd both made more effort to stay in better touch, but I know that sometimes that's just what happens to friendships. I'm hopeful that someday down the road, when she visits her family, timing will work out and we'll be able to get together, and I hope it's just as fun and silly as it was 14 years ago (oh my gosh, 14 yeeeears!) when we first met.

Why middle school is full of the suck.

I wrote out this post awesomely yesterday and then lost it thanks to the server. I’m peeved. Hopefully I can recreate it

Day O8: Someone who made your life hell or treated you like shit.

Aside from the obvious subject of Day 04, the “person” who made my life most crappy was 85% of the people I went to middle school with. No joke. Middle school experience was awful.

My middle school served four elementary schools: mine, another middle class school like mine, a lower income school that required an hour and 45 minute bus ride to get there, and one of Tucson’s highest income schools. Quite a mix. The kids who went to the high income school - which we’ll call Moneybags Elementary for the purposes of this post - lived in huge houses in the foothills, their parents drove fancy cars, and most of them had stay-at-home moms, if not nannies. Now, don’t get me wrong, these things are all very nice, but there’s a difference between having money and being humble, and having money and feeling the need to show it off. Moneybags Elementary kids were the second kind. My pal Shelly would call them “new money,” like Molly Brown from Titanic.

Anyway, the rest of the school came from more modest neighborhoods. We were taken care of, clothed, and fed, but our parents didn’t necessarily have extra wads of cash for things like Mossimo shirts (remember when Mossimo was cool? Stussy, anyone?) and trips to Telluride. I'm not bitter, it was just a different lifestyle. Neither was better than the other. Unless you were a Moneybags kid, and then the rest of us may as well have lived in gutters and worn trashbags to school and they weren’t going to let us forget it.

In middle school, the only thing anyone wants is to fit in. So for me, not having the things the “cool” kids had was the worst thing possible. Any way in which I was different was instantly detected and used as a weapon against me. I swam synchronized swimming and was teased for smelling like chlorine. I tried to wear make up to fit in and be pretty, but mascara sometimes left me with raccoon eyes, so I was teased for that. My 7th grade math teacher was my swim coach, and although her classroom was my safe haven, I was teased for being teacher’s pet, even though she knew the perils of middle school and made sure to never draw attention to me. Despite my current voluptuosity (rad word, huh?) I was rail thin in middle school, had size 8 feet, frizzy hair, braces, and glasses. Moneybags kids had clear retainers, contact lenses, blowdryers, Vans shoes (instantly negates size of feet), and meat on their bones. They were like a Gap Juniors (if that existed) catalog come to life.

Needless to say, I hated middle school, and not for the reasons you’re supposed to like P.E. showers and boys teasing you because they like you. Those would have been cake walks. I begged my mom to take me out of that school, to home school me or let me go somewhere else. Neither of those were options though. My mom is a saint, and I don’t know how I got through it without her. I can see how the teasing and bullying of middle school would lead kids to things like self-harm, eating disorders, and worse. It’s brutal. On the day of my 8th grade graduation, I remember crying when I saw my parents after the ceremony, in part in sadness in knowing I’d miss the few friends I did have, but mostly in absolutely relief that it was finally fucking over.

I did get reprieve in not going to the high school that my middle school fed into. I instead went to a magnet school that had actual diversity. The Moneybags kids went to their neighborhood high school. I have run into a few of them in the last 13 years and it always makes me uneasy. When I worked retail in college, one of the guys came in. I was helping him find some jeans or something and I mentioned that I recognized him from middle school. He said I didn’t look familiar and asked my name. When I told him, he said, “nope, doesn’t ring a bell.” We had home-room and our core classes together, and we rode the same bus. I could have named every single one of my tormentors, and their faces are ingrained on my grey matter, and he didn’t even recognize me. It hit me that teasing me was just another day at school for those kids.

If I have to be forced to send my kids to middle school (I'd rather send them to a cannibal-inhabited deserted island), I plan to be honest and tell them how difficult it was for me. I want them to know that teasing is hurtful for years afterward. I know that cliques are a natural part of life at that age, and there’s a need to establish pecking order, but hopefully my kids will come out of middle school with less trauma than I had, and hopefully not cause any either.

I love them

Day 07: Someone who has made your life worth living for.

First, I hate how this one's worded. Let's get that out there. Maybe I just take things too literally, but I hate when people talk about people and objects as things they "can't live without," in such a dramatic way, and the title of this 30 Days of Truth topic is similar, in my deluded little noggin.

Aside from 2 years' worth of low self esteem and bad days in middle school (was that shit fun for anyone?!) I feel pretty lucky that I've never felt a need to have to seek out something to make life "worth living for." I've never wanted to not be here, and I've never needed a person or thing to remind me that I want to live. Even in those horribly grey days in middle school, I didn't want life to end. I just begged my mom to homeschool me so I'd never have to see any of those soul-crushing ass monsters ever again. So when I answer this question, please keep in mind I'm not taking it in the literal sense.

So now that I've taken all the sappy notions out of this, the people who make "life worth living for" are obviously my husband and my family. I can't imagine my life without any of them. My parents are wonderful and loving people who've done nothing in their children's lifetime but try to make us happy, safe and secure. My sister is just an awesome person, and I love her for the ways in which we're the same and different. And then there's Dan. I can't say enough wonderful things about the man I'm lucky enough to be married to. He'd give me the whole world if he could. Being married to him is fun, comfortable, and happy.

Dan, my mom, my dad, and Megan are the four people in this world that absolutely make my life as wonderful as it is. If you want to make me want to vomit and get all dramatic, then fine: they make my life worth living for.

The worst thing possible

Day 06: Something you hope you never have to do

The absolutely worst thing I can think of that anyone would ever have to do is lose a child. Losing anyone you love is awful, but I can't imagine losing a child. I don't have children, so I don't even have an understanding of that sort of love for another person, but I imagine that it's the most incredible thing in the world. To lose that person has to be the most devastating thing. I've read the stories of women who miscarry, deliver still babies, and bury their children, and they always bring me immense sadness. I hope that in my lifetime, I am spared that experience, and I wish for peace for those parents who have to endure life's greatest loss.

My biggest hope

Day o5: Something you hope to do in your life

There are many things I hope to do, see, and accomplish in my lifetime. I hope to go to Europe, see the Sistine Chapel, breath in the air in Ireland, and maybe someday have a bakery. But there's only one thing I've ever wanted to do in my whole life and that's be a mom. I can't imagine anything more fulfulling and wonderful than having a child with Dan, seeing him being a father, and raising a person to be a respectful, contributing member of society.

There are many things I look forward to in mommyhood. I can't wait until the day I know I'm carrying life inside me, the day that will change our whole world and shift every priority to the health and safe-keeping of that life. I can't wait to feel it move, to choose a name, and to see its tiny face for the first time. To count its fingers and toes and tell Dan "look, she has your nose!" We look forward to bonding with our kids, teaching them to swim, throw a ball, and ride motorcycles (I know, eek, but it's a given). We look forward to watching them go off to school, make best friends, and hopefully enjoy learning as much as we both do. We only hope we can do what everyone hopes to: give our kids everything we had and more.

As the holidays come near, I start to think about all the things I want to do with our kids to celebrate Christmas. I want to make cookies with them, and make the magic of Santa come alive. I want to take them to see lights and play in snow, and sing carols and drink cocoa. I want them to love every memory and tradition we create with them, and instill a spirit of giving and generosity, and show them how to make Christmas merry for others less fortunate.

I hope to someday have a relationship with a daughter like I have with my mom, and hopefully even closer. I hope our kids love their siblings and count each other among their best of friends. Most of all, I just hope we do a good job at being parents, and that - even with the tough times mixed in - we love every last moment.

I just can't wait to be a mom. Hopefully 2011 will be the year my hope comes true.

Someday I'll forgive

I've hesitated writing this 4th day of truth for a while, obviously. Clearly, I'm not doing these things on a daily basis, but taking breaks in between. This one has been on my mind for nearly 2 weeks, as I write and erase and rewrite it in my head. This one is hardest because I can't decide what to say, or how much. I don't want to dirty my happy blog with my past, but the only thing I can possibly think of when I read the description for 30 Days of Truth, Day 04, is this one thing.

Day 04: Something you have to forgive someone for

At some point, I have to forgive my ex-boyfriend. The guy I dated before Dan. The guy who promised I was safe with him. The guy whose drinking habits still make me want to hurl when I hear ice tinkling in a glass. The guy who made me question my self-worth and accused me of being mentality unstable when I told him he wasn't welcome to contact me ever again. The guy who will never recognize or admit that anything was wrong or broken or unhealthy about our relationship.

That's really all I want to say about it. I have things to work through in terms of forgiveness with this person. I'm thankful I'm in a wonderful place in life with a great and understanding husband, but I can't deny that my previous relationship will haunts me now and again. Someday I'll forgive.

I must forgive myself

30 Days of Truth 03: Something you have to forgive yourself for

It's hard for me to admit fault or wrong-doing. I don't think I'm alone in that. It's never easy to say, "I screwed up," or "I hurt you." But the truth is, I've caused some deep hurt, and it's something I regret every day.

Growing up, my sister and I didn't get along very well. That's probably a huge understatement. For probably the first 15 years of my sister's life, we didn't have much of a bond. I was probably a very jealous little girl when Megan was born. I liked being the only child and having all of my parents' attention. But that doesn't forgive me the sins I committed in regard to my sister. I was rude, mean, and pushed her away for years. I wasn't the big sister she deserved to have - someone to play with her, protect her, and tell her how wonderful she was. I don't want to get into all of it, because I know it's painful for both of us. No matter what went down, I can't take back things that were said, or things that were done.

We've talked about it, hashed over the past, cried angry new tears. There are times when our tension turns even simple arguments into heated emotional tirades. Sometimes the past comes up when our discussions blow out of proportion, but most times it doesn't. She says she forgives me for it, but I don't think I've forgiven myself. I still have guilt and shame for how I treated my sister for all those years. I worry that things from way back when she was six still affect her at nearly-twenty-six. I fear she questions how things would have been different if we'd been different.

I'm thankful that my sister is a forgiving person. I'm thankful that we have been able to form a bond that should have started 26 years ago. I'm thankful that life experiences have become our great denominator and that we continually have new grounds on which to understand each other and to base our friendship. I just hope that someday I can be as forgiving of myself as she has been, and that the guilt can fade away and allow us to be closer.

I love you, Megan, and I'm proud to be your sister.

In a good place

30 Days of Truth, Day 02: Something you love about yourself

What I love about myself lately is that everything in my life is in a good place. Dan and I have a year of marriage under our belts. We are happy and in love, and have exciting things in our future. We're working on getting a pre-approval on our first home. We just bought our second vehicle together, and we are refinancing our first for a significant savings - and working together like pro's I might add!

My job, though not glamorous and often tedious and monotonous, is stable and my income is good. My boss appreciates my work and worked to get me a small raise recently. I feel like I really know what I'm doing and I'm confident in my skill set. I like (most of) my coworkers, and have a good little group of friends here at the office.

There really isn't anything in my life right now that isn't positive. I'm truly happy with how things are and excited about where things are going and for what's next in my life. It's honestly very nice to be me right now, and that's what I love about myself lately.

A Costly Truth

If you've been surfing around the blog world, you've seen the "30 Days of Truth" that's going around. I think it could be a very introspective and fun project, so here goes

Day 01: Something You Hate About Yourself

I hate that when I was younger, I was financially irresponsible. Like very irresponsible. I was one of the kids who went to college, was mailed my very first credit card, and things went down hill from there for the next 5 years. I racked up quite a bit of debt in a short period of time. It's not that my parents didn't warn me about credit cards, but I don't think they didn't realized what I was doing or the extent of it. When I had to come clean, I was bailed out, then did it again. It was embarrassing and stressful when creditors started calling.

Right before the end, I owed $1,200 in 10 days on two cards. I didn't know what to do. I turned to one of those credit counselors you see on TV. In hindsight, big mistake. But it I got on track. I settled my debts with the credit card companies, and faithfully made my monthly payment to the consolidator. I even paid it off a year and a half early.

Unfortunately, my past continues to follow me. The delinquent accounts are still on my credit report, still affecting my scores, and may inhibit me from buying the house we want. Even though I've been nothing but responsible for the last five years - I have to be, I have nothing but my paycheck to live off of - I am still paying for my mistakes as a 20-year-old. I've worked hard to build a safety net so that I don't have to fear something going wrong. Five years after my consolidation and with not a single new derogatory item on my report, I still can't get a major credit card company to have faith in me. It's a vicious cycle: I can't raise my score because I don't have the confidence of a major creditor, but I can't obtain credit without a higher score.

It affects how I see myself and how others see me. Not just potential creditors, but I feel like I get the side-eye when I buy something I've saved hard for and have budgeted for. I feel like I'm always under the microscope, and my purchases and expenditures are being tallied. In reality, I have a healthy amount of savings, an account I contribute 10% of my income to every month (not to mention my 401K contribution), and my husband and I live comfortably. We're clothed, fed, healthy, and happy.

I just wish I could tell my younger self to slow down, that the mistakes made will continue to have an impact for at least the next 10 years. I think it would be awesome to someday help young people obtain and keep healthy credit and not make my mistakes. I wish I could wash away this skeleton in my closet.