Lana Maryé Morelli

“I’m sorry for your loss…”   It’s what you’re supposed to say.  But even as the words left my lips and resonated in my brain, I thought about how empty, generic and half hearted they seemed.  As I listened to his voice on the voicemail I rehearsed saying it, but each time it sounded wrong.  I wanted a Hallmark zinger; something short, sweet and powerful. At this point even if it rhymed and skimmed the surface of cheesy, I thought that it would have been better than “ I’m sorry for your loss.” This was a person I spent my childhood summers beside.  He was someone I’ve known for almost two decades and I felt like the words “I’m sorry for your loss” were desensitizing his situation. This is when I really needed Hallmark, but instead was left to my own devices.  Suddenly the voicemail beeped indicating for me to speak... “ Hey… it’s me .” I sounded too chipper; I tried to adjust my tone.  “ I heard about your dad …” Shit, now I sounded too depressing, I need to fix that {Long Pause} “ I

“ I want it all !” Those four words are engrained in the foundation of the American Dream.  Anyone can have it (whatever “it” is) as long as their willing to work for it.  So, we 20somethings, trudge through school in hopes of finding “it”.  We secure a job in able to work at achieving “it.”  We focus on “it” and we make it our goal, our passion, our dream.   The irony is, that those people who seem most “together,” the ones that are certain they’re going to find “it”, can end up the most lost.  Those people who appear to know the program, the ones that are “on the right track” from the start… they are the ones who risk being farthest from “it.”   I can make this general statement with confidence because I was one of those people.   Smart, driven, confident and determined—all of which sounds good on paper, but can actually be a lethal combination.   When you have these qualities and you chose to focus on the wrong thing; or if you find yourself pursuing the wrong “it”, well then you

Holy Hiatus! With Christmas and New Years falling on the weekend this year, I just couldn’t get my life together enough to sit down and blog… which I think is okay, because you readers probably couldn’t get your lives together to sit down and read either… We’re even! So during this hiatus, winter decided to rear its ugly head. Here in the Northeast we didn’t have a white Christmas, we had a white day-after Christmas. Whether you like snow or not, many Holiday/Christmas songs of a “ White Christmas, ” end up making most people long for it, even if they don’t particularly like snow. In short, had the storm arrived just 12 hours earlier, it could have arrived to open arms… but truthfully, instead, it was greeted with a groan. I guess at some point, snowstorms have had to stop being personally offended by the adult – hatred toward them. “We have to get to work”  “We have to reschedule everything now”  “I don’t want to shovel”  “Oh No, Look at the roads!”  Whether we like it

I have always loved “colorful” words. When I was a child, I called big words or rare words “foo-foo” words. You see, my love affair with words started very early on. I was the youngest in my family and running after my brother and sister, screaming, “wait for me” in every aspect possible. So as I struggled to keep up and be taken seriously, I looked to language to help me. I knew that words and correct phrases could aid me in communicating and getting my point across; but even more, these “foo-foo” words made me sound like a “real big kid.” So here is a true “big-kid” “foo-foo” word: Neotony—Pronounced ( Knee-ot-Knee ) It is a 50-cent adjective for describing someone. Literally defined as “the retention of childlike attributes in adulthood.” Decoded: it means to be youthful-minded . Now, neotony is a funny thing. It needs to be balanced. For some people the idea of neotony is laid on too thick. They have retained too many childlike attributes and carried only those attributes

If you read last week’s blog, you understand that it wasn’t an easy week for me. If you didn’t read last week’s blog, I’m not going to re-hash it, but what I will say is this—losing a pet is hard.   So, when life dishes out something that is difficult, depressing or tiresome, I think we are entitled to a break. We are allowed to reward ourselves for surviving and getting through a particularly hard time. The problem is that life isn’t always fair. Just because you’ve made it through something hard doesn’t mean it will be offset by something wonderful. The Yin and Yang of the universe are not in perfect harmony. There is the “unknown” that we must factor in.   Dare I say it, but sometimes when things are hard, it only means more “hard” is right behind it. This is why I believe that when life offers a “break in the action,” even if it’s just a few hours, we should grab onto it with both hands. During this proverbial “break,” I think we are entitled to something nice.   In 2010, du

It was time. As long as I tried to put it off, as much as I pretended it wasn’t happening, as much as I hoped to ignore it… It was time. This week, in Northeastern America, those of us holding tight to grips of summer had to let go. We were forced to do the dreaded “switch.”  Packing up beloved sun dresses made of paper thin material that sways in the wind and replaced them with warm, fuzzy sweaters that will attempt to keep our body heat IN and the frigid cold OUT . We swapped open toed sandals for stark heavy boots. The last days of Indian summer ended and officially fall is here. Every year at this time of year, I gripe about the change in season, temperature and weather, but this year I noticed something different. No I’m not talking global warming or anything like that, the difference I noticed this year was not environmental, it was perspective provided, through care of my 15-month-old nephew. Isn’t it weird that we say months for the first few years of life, maybe it’s b

Pumpkins, candy, ghosts goblins, ghouls and witches. Halloween is on Sunday—but the most defining characteristic of course is Trick-or Treating. It is when children dress up in a costume and go door-to-door filling bags and pillowcases with chocolates and candies. Normally, as per the political correct gender roles, it seems that only girls continue to play dress up past Kindergarten. Sure little boys have that “stage” around 3 years old where they refuse to take off their Batman or Superman costume, but once they hit first grade that routine is over. Yet, Halloween seems to be the exception, so much that parents are spending tons of money on costumes encouraging their children to strut though the neighborhood. It’s something that we American’s are accustomed to. We grew up doing it and we don’t think twice about it Historically, it is claimed that Trick-or-Treating resembles the late medieval practice of souling, when poor people would go door to door on Hallowmas (November 1),

When the entire world tunes in to watch the same news on television, their computers, and even cell phones, it almost always means a tragedy. That something catastrophic has happened… like a terrorist attack, 9/11, The Haiti Earthquake, a volcano eruption, hurricane damage, wars or bombing. We all sit wide-eyed in front of the screens silenced with disbelief as our eyes watch the unthinkable unfold. This week however, was different. This week the world watched as the exception to the rule occurred. This week people across the country and around the world watched in relief and disbelief as 33 miners were pulled from ½ a mile underground where they were trapped for 69 days. Each and every one of them was successfully pulled to the surface and saved. In a time where the slumped economy, debt, unemployment, terrorism, war and depression plagues our daily headlines; and we are so used to expecting the worst, watching this rescue unfold seemed surreal. As it streamed lives across the scr