all i can say is this:

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one last note to my fallen (read: risen) hero.

January 10, 2013

"Good Morning everyone. On behalf of my mom Kathy, my brothers Joe and Chris and my sister Maria, my grandparents Connie and Joe, my aunt and uncles Paul, Mark, Mary Ann and Steven, and everyone else in the extended Gallant and Fougere families, I want to thank you all so much for being here to help celebrate the life of the greatest man I’ve ever known. The love and support you have all shown us over these trying days has been nothing short of incredible, and if I know my Dad at all, I know he’s up there taking careful notes on everyone to whom he now owes favors. "I’d like to take the time now to say a few words about our father and I thought the best way to do it might be to start from the beginning and tell you all a condensed version of his story, the way I have always known it. "On October 15 th , 1956, in the city of Chelsea, MA, our Nana and Gramps welcomed their first child into this world, a little baby boy. And like the generations of fi

it makes me crazy that i'm drawing inspiration from taylor freakin' swift

May 07, 2012

of all people, but she sings a ridiculously chipper and unfortunately catchy song about things that shine and I can't get it out of my head. I can't even begin to tell you the number of times in life that people have told me to do what makes me happy. We all go through it. Before we're shoved out of childhood and into young adulthood, it's the number one piece of advice anyone will give us. "Follow your dreams. Listen to your heart. Reach for the stars. Do what makes you happy. " Lately, for whatever reason, I can't seem to get away from people who are concerned about my happiness. Yes, it's great to know I have people looking out for me. And yes, I know I'm blessed to have that kind of care and concern in my life. But when the casual "and how are things going for you these days?" turns into an interrogation about the choices I make and the things that are actually making me happy, I start to feel a little less blessed and a litt

"you're welcome to come over and bitch about it all whenever you want,"

May 01, 2012

she tells me as we leave her screened-in porch. "Because I'm telling you, the next year of your life is going to be hell ." And as I say goodbye, get in my car and drive back towards 495, it sets in. It's finally happening, I've finally been given the chance to get out of the what-am-I-going-to-do-with-my-life-now rut that I've been stuck in since May 15th, 2010. I'll be starting nursing school in four months. And working full-time. And trying to keep the little bits of my life that aren't already consumed by work intact. Yes, indeed, the next year of my life is going to be hell. The worst part about that statement is that right now, I feel like I only barely have a hold on my life and my sanity as it is. So then I start thinking: what's changed? Where did I mess up? Things are falling into place. I have a plan. I finally have a purpose. So... why do I feel more lost now than I did two years ago, when I had no idea what my next move was g

about 174 days a year, you tell me you couldn't give a sh*t less about what i think.

August 02, 2010

But I've known you for 22 years. I can see right through you. And I know that statement is a lie. I know that what I think really means everything to you. What I can see is that something's got a hold of you. I don't know what it is, but it has been eating you away from the inside out for the latter half of my life. It's taking over your actions, your words, your emotions, your entire being. Whatever it is has been slowly tearing you away from me, to the point where you need to stop at the liquor store to find something to numb the pain before you can even set foot in the house after work. This thing has you thinking that it's not as worth being there for me as it is worth being there for the people in your office or for the benefit of a few lab results at the doctor's. As a 12 year old, I spent almost a month being terrified to speak to you because I knew that whatever I said, the conversation would always end with you yelling at me for being a bad student.

eight thousand and thirty days' worth of blessed.

July 08, 2010

"My vision is going," I sigh into the phone. "And my hearing. And all my joints are starting to hurt. And I get tired more easily. And when Maria is the same age as I am right now, I will be 32 and maybe even hanging out with MY KIDS. And now mom is giving me dirty looks." My father laughs at me on the other end of the line. "That's because you don't even know the half of it. Wait another 30 years til you're 52 or 53 like us. Then come talk to me about it. Where you are right now is the best part of your life." As of 9:35 this morning, I have been living on this earth for 22 years. Eight thousand and thirty days. I've blown out 253 candles and grown 67 inches. I've completed 16 years of school. I've come a long way from the 7 lb. 6 oz. 20-something inch pink bundle that I was 22 years ago. Sometimes we all go through periods of time that just really....well, really suck. I won't get into details, but I would not be lying to

the train is crowded for 9 pm on a tuesday.

July 01, 2010

I sit in my seat next to the left-side door, looking down most of the time, being careful not to make eye contact with anyone around me so as not to have an awkward moment. At each stop, the car fills up a little more: a man with rap music blaring from the earbuds stuffed in his ear at Stonybrook, a woman talking loudly on the phone in Cantonese at Jackson Square, a group of college girls from Northeastern at Ruggles. Each new person to walk on keeps to himself or to the group he came with. Nobody interacts with each other except for an occasional "excuse me." Like it or not, we have been trained in this day and age to think that a friendly "Hello" is a thing of a Pleasantville past. We are told from a young age to mind our own business, to be wary of strangers, to keep a tight hold of our possessions, to not let our guard down and be 110% sure of our surroundings at all times in an effort to prevent an unwanted hand from invading our personal bubble and wreaking