Happy Accidents

 September 24th, 2013.

Two years ago today, I got in a really bad car accident. And for a long time I thought it ruined my life. If you've known me for any amount of time, you'll know that I'm a planner. I’m organized. I’ve always had a path laid out for myself. If people were Parks & Recreation characters, I’d be Leslie Knope. (Or Ben Wyatt. I haven’t decided yet.)

 But looking back on it now, I realize that that car accident didn’t ruin my life. It just took me off a path I was wrong to think I should be on, and down another, more suitable one. I can’t even begin to tell you how significant that is. Even though it’s been two years, I can still remember sitting on the couch with my mom right after it happened, and her saying, “One day you’ll understand why this happened.” I remember that like it was yesterday, and I also remember feeling like there was no way in hell that would ever be true. But she was right. I understand it now. I wasn’t where I was supposed to be.

 I don't believe that everything happens for a reason. I believe that everything just happens. And you can either choose to be strong about it or you can think the universe is out to get you. But it's not. The universe doesn't care. The universe is fucking indifferent. But you know who isn’t indifferent? People. These are the people who got me through. I love you. Whether you gave me a pep talk, drove me to Starbucks, sat with me while I cried, got me to drive again, or helped me make a web series, I love you. 

 And if your life is such right now that you’re faced with an uncertain path, something you really aren’t sure of…go with your gut. Do the right thing for you, even if it’s the hard thing. Because at the end of the day, you have to live with the choices you’ve made, not anyone else. And you get to make those choices. Those choices that will either lead to immense happiness or overwhelming sadness. And that’s a privilege. So don’t you dare let anyone else make your choices for you and say you had none. Because you always have a choice. Two years ago, I wanted to give up. I wanted to die and I wanted to not try and I wanted to stay inside and never do anything again except watch Friends and cry. But I fought. I fucking fought. I wrote through it and I walked through it and I talked through it until I got through it. And then I kept going. I didn’t just stop and smile once I saw that I was "through it." I kept walking, so as to put it as far behind me as possible.

 And now I’m here and yesterday I drove to Rochester for a concert and I tried sushi for the first time and visited cool coffee shops with friends and ate waffles. And that isn’t to say it doesn’t still haunt me. I worry every day about that dark, hopeless feeling sneaking up on me and grabbing me from behind again. But the thing is…I’ve got protection now. I have people who have been through it too, so it almost feels like we’re all standing in a giant circle back to back, protecting each other. (Avengers style) That’s an awesome feeling, and something I’m really proud to be a part of. I’m honored to protect you guys. 

 So…I’m not trying to say I’m happy the accident happened. I'm definitely not. But I accept that it did and I accept that I am here as a result and that here doesn’t suck. It doesn’t suck at all. 

 -Fran

T W E N T Y on the T W E N T I E T H

 I kind of hate my birthday. I mean, every year my birthday has always coincided with a football game, or a soccer game, or some other sporting event I had no interest in but everyone around me was obsessed with. Two years ago, I had chest pains on my birthday as a result of severe anxiety, and the next morning went to the emergency room after throwing up from back pain. Last year, my childhood babysitter died three days before my birthday, and no one wanted to watch the movie I wanted to watch on my birthday. This year, however, things were different. My friends decided to throw me a party after I pinned a picture of a beautiful fall gathering on Pinterest. 

 I had an amazing day on the 19th. I watched The X-Files with a friend, and then went to the party. They got fall decorations, put up awesome lights and banners, and made all my favorite foods. That night will probably always stick out in my mind as one of my favorite birthday memories: sitting in my friend's aesthetic backyard under the foliage and stars, eating food and laughing. I can’t really begin to say how grateful I am to have these people in my life. I feel so strangely complete when I’m with them. I’ve always considered myself to be this badass independent woman, but when I’m around these people I see how truly empty I’ve been these last few years. Thank you guys for making this day, usually one of the worst days of the year, one of the best. One of my favorite quotes from The X-Files is, "I want to believe." And I do. I want to believe that my life can be like this all of the time. As long as I surround myself with wonderful, awesome, kindhearted and genuine people. September is not easy for me, as I’ve said before. But just having these people there, knowing I could cry or talk to them about anything, made everything easier. At the end of the night it rained, and I danced in the downpour and walked in the drizzle. The leaves blew off the trees as I was driving home, and for once in my life things just felt right.

 Twenty feels very different from 19. It feels more even, balanced. I think 19 was a good number for how I felt last year. A little off-kilter, uneven, so close to that solid footing and yet so far. So it feels weird to have a number that now represents where I'm at. This whole week, I've been marveling at how balanced I feel. Like I can handle things I couldn't before. I have so many more things going for me. Today, on my actual birthday, I went to lunch with my best friend, watched Gilmore Girls with my sister, ate good food, got everything I wanted (I didn't ask for much) and watched Kingsman: The Secret Service. I decorated my room for fall, edited a video, and read Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. It was simple and quiet, but perfect, because I was so full of love for everyone around me.

 Twenty, I wasn't ready for you before, but I am now. I'm twenty, and good with it.

 -Fran

Stress & Surprising Yourself

   I surprised myself this week. With everything that I've been through, all the ups and downs that life has thrown at me, I've been really careful with myself these past two years. Careful not to put too much on my plate or give myself more than I can handle. But I realized this week that I am more than capable, and I'm not as fragile as I used to be. I’m strong. 

 This week I: 

Spent my entire Monday with friends, cooking food and watching Wet Hot American Summer. 

Worked at the library, as per usual.

Babysat on Wednesday, which is usually my day off. (I will be doing this every Monday and Wednesday for the next month or so.)

Helped with some writing for Peaks Coffee Co.

Got my car inspected.

Made my birthday list. (At my mom's request)

Watched The X-Files with a friend.

Got a lot less sleep than usual.

 I don’t know why that all seems really significant to me, but for some reason it does. I mean, usually in any given week I’ll work, do a little writing, and then have nothing but spare time in between to overthink and overanalyze and generally be completely alone with my thoughts. For a long time I thought I needed that time. And I think I do, to some extent. But this week I proved to myself that I can get by without it, and I won’t become a total mess. I have this constant, nagging fear that one day I’ll slip up…and revert back to being the person I was in high school. A person that I hated. She was an anxiety machine, she was never happy, and she was never satisfied with herself. I don’t want to be that person ever again. So part of me probably thought that if I just didn’t do a lot, if I was never stressed, I wouldn’t become that again. But after this summer of stress and anxiety but also joy, I think it’s safe to say I’ve outgrown that person. I’m much more equipped to handle stress. It’s not the end of the world for me anymore. No longer does being stressed equal being unhappy. And if I do say so myself, that’s pretty significant. 

 -Fran

September

  

  So on Monday, September 7th, we had a Labor day waffle party. We made waffles, watched the fourth episode of Overdue, and talked about plans for Peaks Coffee Company. I feel like a broken record, but I’m so grateful right now. September isn't easy for me...to say the least. But this is the first time in two years that it’s September and I don’t wake up every day with an overwhelming sense of dread in the pit of my stomach. And for some reason that makes me really sad. Every day this weekend, I cried. I cried because I’m happy, and I know that sounds really lame to say, but it’s true. Fall used to be my favorite season, but with the things that have happened to me the past two years, I’ve started to love it less…and have come to dread it even. 

 But with so many cool projects to focus on and incredible people surrounding me, I've nearly forgotten what month it is. Between Peaks, Overdue, writing poetry and stories, making short films, and generally immersing myself in this group of people who are all so passionate about what they're doing, I hardly have time to remember that I'm supposed to be sad. And even though most would consider that really good news, for some reason I'm finding myself crying about it a lot. And although Inside Out taught us all that sometimes you have to be sad to be happy, it's getting a little annoying. I mean, one second I'm driving to Starbucks, and the next I'm sobbing over the musical stylings of Hozier in my car. But luckily, my friends have been understanding and supportive. So now I’m excited to love and look forward to fall again.

 -Fran