• June 2011 Archive •

An Orangerie Events Re-Birth

My last blog post alarmed a lot of people.  After re-reading it myself, I wouldn’t have been surprised if my doctor had called me for an impromptu visit to discuss anti-depressant medication.  I assure you this blog entry will be much more uplifting and inspiring.

Writing is therapy for me.  It always has been.  I didn’t reveal the inner workings of my situation to gain sympathy but I will admit that the outpouring of sweet emails from clients, encouraging posts from family and general concern about my well-being did make me feel incredibly loved.  I’m so fortunate to meet and work with the people I do and am even more blessed to have such amazing friends and family.

In the short span of a week and half since my last post, the very thing that was dragging me down finally let go.  I’m still exhaling from the enormous sigh of relief.  I had been spreading myself way too thin the last 7 months and have been looking forward to this very day since I decided to start Orangerie Events.

I spent time this past weekend perusing old pictures from high school and college.  In between photos of me with embarrassing hairdos and kissy faces, I came across one that I had never really stopped to look at before.  It was from 2005 when my best friend and I got the brilliant idea to study abroad in London for a semester.  During our Spring Break trip to Greece, we stumbled upon a random grouping of orange trees.  Being the rebels we were, we thought it would be really cute to take pictures pretending like we were picking the oranges.  See the evidence below.  And please excuse my corduroy pants.

Flash forward 6 years and the picture takes on a whole new meaning for me.  The entire concept behind the Orangerie Events branding was derived from the word orangery, which was a building found on the grounds of residences in the 17th to the 19th centuries that housed citrus trees.  The orangeries weren’t used just to harvest oranges during the wintry months, but were also used to entertain guests.  I believed in the name and the brand the moment my husband suggested using it.

The picture really spoke to me when I saw it on Saturday.  Maybe it’s because I tend to be a deep person.  I’m always the one listening to a song trying to figure out the back-story and trying to decipher why the artist chose a particular word.  Or maybe it’s just because I’ve been desperately searching for a sign recently.  Either way, when I look at the picture now I see a girl, giddy with independence and unassumingly reaching for her future.  It’s the perfect representation of where I am at this very moment in my life, six years later and half a world away.

xoxo, Priscilla
My So-Called Life

I know.  Can you believe I am actually blogging?  Although I know my lack of blog entries the past few months has probably had zero effect on anyone’s life, I’d like to think there are a select few out there who have thought, “Dang.  It’s been a while since Priscilla wrote a blog.”

If I’m being completely honest, which I tend to brutally be in my blogs, I haven’t blogged about my life recently because I haven’t had a life.  I haven’t cooked.  I haven’t been to the gym.  I haven’t re-decorated.  I haven’t read a book.  I haven’t even sprung forward the clock on the wall in my office.  It’s still stuck in March which is where I’m pretty sure I left my mind.

I feel as though for the past four months, I’ve been a walking shell.  I can nod my head to look involved and I can force my fingers to type the keys necessary to complete work.  I can sit, eat, sleep and speak.  Those are effortless and emotionless actions and yet I do it only because it has to be done.

I stood in the pouring rain the other night in the grocery store parking lot.  I’m sure to the shoppers huddled together inside waiting for the rain to subside I looked like a complete idiot.  To me, I wanted to feel something.  Even if it was as minimal as the rain colliding with the tears streaming down my face, I needed to feel it.  I was tempted to continue to stand there and wait for the lighting.  If it didn’t strike me dead then maybe it would strike me alive.

For some reason I always enjoyed the quote, “Shoot for the moon.  Even if you miss, you will land among the stars.”  That quote was actually a contender for my Senior yearbook quote.  Unfortunately something even cheesier took the prize.  When applied to my present age, it’s a lot scarier than hunting astrology.  What if the moon is your monthly mortgage and missing means you lose your house and claim bankruptcy?  Perhaps that analogy is a bit extreme.  Nonetheless, shooting for the moon is a lot harder now than doodling a half-crescent shape and some fancy stars on my high school notebook.

I’m not too prideful to admit I need a vertical attitude adjustment.  I don’t like who I am or the place I’m at right now and I’ve allowed my dissatisfaction with decisions made to dictate my so-called life.  Sometimes change only happens following initiation and I know it’s completely up to me to step out on faith or to continue to roll around in the bed of pity I’ve made.  My next move will either be incredibly stupid or genius.  Only time can tell but I’m hoping for an Albert Einstein kind-of outcome.

 

xoxo, Priscilla