Thursday, January 14, 2016

Remembering Alan Rickman


I never wanted to write this.

I thought that if Alan Rickman ever passed (as he was immortal in my eyes), it would be when I had children of my own. They would be confused as I slowly turned despondent while reading the news of the day on some hologram (it would be so far into the future), and then again when I started crying during that year's Oscars In Memoriam. I couldn't imagine he would leave us so soon.

Today at work, when one of the girls suddenly gasped and said "Snape died," I quite possibly screamed in horror. As she told the story of a former co-worker texting her the news, I was certain it was false. I grabbed my phone to see the news for myself, but once glance told me everything I needed to know - before unlocking my screen, I saw dozens of texts, Facebook chats, calls - all from different groups of friends, and all before 9 in the morning - it had to be true.

As I scrolled through Facebook, I saw countless tributes to Professor Snape, which honestly kept me from crying--now, I love Harry Potter arguably more than the next person, but Alan Rickman was so much more than one character.

I first declared my love for Alan Rickman at the age of 3. My sister, Lauren and I watched Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves more than any Disney movie. She not-so-secretly harbored a love for Kevin Costner, and not wanting to like the same guy, in fact, choosing to like the opposite, I was smitten with the Sheriff of Nottingham, as played by Alan Rickman, of course. Years later, we would joke that I had the better taste. We both grew up loving him.

How easy it was to love him in Sense and Sensibility! To so many he is Professor Snape, but to me, he will forever be Colonel Brandon, lost in his endless devotion to Marianne Dashwood. Colonel Brandon, who fell in love during a song.
Colonel Brandon, who showed his obvious affection, but waited out of respect for Marianne's wishes. Colonel Brandon, who carried her through the rain, who only hours later rode through the storm and night to bring her mother to see her ailing child. Alan Rickman's Colonel Brandon, who truly ruined all men for me.



To others, his role as Professor Snape made them love him. To me, I loved Professor Snape, because of him. A huge Potter-head, I read books 1-4 countless times, never once liking Snape. Once the movies came out, it was impossible to hate him. Alan Rickman played him in such a way, you just had to know there was good in him somewhere. Only after that first movie did I start looking into the character more. Words and phrases and subtext can only go so far; Alan Rickman brought JK Rowling's Snape to life.

He acted from the heart and shared his craft with all of us privileged to exist on earth at the same time. So many characters he brought to life. He was always more than just lines or stage directions.


But aside from his wonderful acting, Alan Rickman was a good guy. There were reports of him bringing children of friends to the set of the Harry Potter movies, reports of how he treated his fans and friends alike. I was lucky enough to be an example of this when my sister wrote to him, telling him how I'd loved him since I was three. He mailed me a personalized Playbill of the play, Seminar, which he was staring in. When I posted the story on the blog, an Alan Rickman message board picked up the story and gushed over his kindness. He was a man everyone loved.

I won't be with my children when they play the In Memoriam segment at the Oscars featuring my favorite person, my first crush, the arguable love of my life. But I can guarantee that when I show them his movies, when I tell them the stories, and when I tell them just how much I love him, they'll ask "After all this time?" and I'll respond, knowingly, faithfully, "Always."

Wednesday, January 6, 2016

Everybody has a Laughing Place

On any given day there's a 40% chance you'll find me at the Starbucks porch in Disney Springs. I'll be the one curled in the corner by the fireplace (that isn't actually hot), reading a book and sipping coffee. There's a fair chance you'll see me take out a phone and snap a picture that looks very similar the one in this post.


I've posted a near identical photo on Instagram at least once a month. This is my happy place, or, if we're sticking to the original theme of this blog, my laughing place.

I started visiting the waterfront area of Downtown Disney after one evening when I found myself having a very serious and difficult conversation with a friend--one that I never thought I'd have the courage to have. Writing words is one thing, but talking in person, looking into someone's eyes, not being able to plan each paragraph and argument--I'm afraid to admit I'm still no good at difficult conversations.

I visited the site of this conversation at times because it reminded me of my own inner strength... and then I started to notice more about the area. The people walking around were all so different - families, couples, friends, individuals like myself - and it seemed to be a testament to humanity just watching people interact, watching them with their purchases. I suppose you can watch this anywhere that draws large crowds, but somehow being at Disney there was so much more - you could almost guarantee that everyone there was a Disney fan - and there was beauty in knowing that through all these different people, there was one thread that tied everyone together.

So I found my place. When Starbucks opened their porch that looks over the waterfront with semi-secluded seating, I knew I was home. I could sit for hours reading in this atmosphere (and often do). And when I look out, past my book, past the fireplace, past the people and out on the waterfront, I feel an overwhelming sense of calm. Time stops and it's impossible to feel anything but happy. I wish time would stop forever and freeze in that moment, so I take a picture--every time--in hopes that one will eventually capture the perfect emotion of it all.

Friday, January 1, 2016

Here We Go Again, Happy 2016

Welcome back friends.

I've received questions more than a couple times during this holiday season if I would be writing a new blog anytime soon. Honestly, I hadn't realized so many keep in contact through this (especially since my last update was nearly two years ago). But, as I find myself wanting to write more, and now have a computer which makes it easier to do so, I suppose here I am again to update you on my musings and ramblings. I cannot say if this will bring you closer or push you further away; we'll find out together.

Here we are now, in 2016. Last night was the first New Year's Eve in over a decade where I was not in the company of friends, and I was decidedly depressed about it--what a fitting end to a year where I found more than one friend slip by the wayside.

For those of you who did read this blog in the past, perhaps you'll remember my posts about my friends being all around the world, and struggling with the idea of staying in the same place while everyone else seems to move on. Please don't misunderstand, Orlando was, and is the right place to be when starting a career in hospitality. It was the right place for me at such a formative part of my career--but seeing everyone else in their right place--which was so far away from mine--made me question most of my decisions. Facebook is truly a modern form of torture.

This year was a new experience--one of losing friends not through physical distance, rather through growing apart. Different paths in careers or education, different interests, new relationships--at one point it felt like a constant downward spiral with only my career keeping me afloat.

Family is really the one thing you can always count on. In every way, spending New Year's Eve with my family instead of my friends was highly significant of my year.

That's the baggage. That was 2015. But the beautiful thing about a New Year is a fresh start. With 365 days left (because we get an extra day this year) there is so much potential for change. Each January 1st we're presented with the amazing gift of time, a whole year in front of us.

In addition to some trips and visits I have lined up for the first half of the year, I have a small bucket list:

1. Read every book I got for Christmas by May (there were quite a few, including a very lengthy biography on Alexander Hamilton)
2. Run my first 10K (ok, this was technically already planned, but as it looms closer, I feel like it needs to be on a list for me to actually believe it's going to happen... seriously, may the force be with me)
3. Embrace and conquer my fear of natural water - that means springs, kayaks, paddle boards and canoes - the gators know I cheer for them, don't they?
4. Call a friend at least once a week - texting, Facebook, email don't begin to compare to hearing someone's voice. Plus, you never know when a call can come at exactly the perfect time.
5. Speed-date. From the stories a friend tells me, it sounds like great hospitality practice anyways-- or, if nothing else, material for future blog posts.
6. Discover my true autonomous self. I've discovered a love for movies and theme parks on my own, but I still can't work up the courage to eat or drink on my own in public. I can travel on my own, so long as the destination has someone waiting. People who need people may be the luckiest people in the world, but I want to work more on not depending on others.

Of course there's weight loss. Of course there's working out more, eating better, being healthy. You can expect a few blogs on that, because that's the trend, and trying to do a 10K can't be done without the above. But I am so much more of a writer that I don't want to be another girl writing about losing weight. Just like I am more than my appearance, my writing and my life is about more than weight loss.

So welcome back, to those of you still reading. And welcome to those who are new--some of whom haven't gotten the chance to know me through my writing. Fair warning, I'm wordy. I ramble. Sometimes I write nonsensically. But if you stick around, you might learn a bit more about me, and you might get a good story here and there.

And comment. This isn't a plea to go viral. This isn't me wanting to get numbers up. This is me wanting to keep the conversation going, to know who's listening and to listen back when given the chance.