it's where you hang your heart.

but when you can't physically go home, you desperately reach for the comfort, acceptance and tradition that provides warmth under your lapel.

i've been made fun of since the 1900s for my "obsession" with the golden girls. i even saw the originals on saturday nights in the 80's. it reminds me of 'home.' when i was safe, surrounded by people that unconditionally loved me, and when i didn't have to worry about anything. except dodgeball in high school gym.  obviously.

but anyway, these four ladies, connected me with growing up, my family, my first boyfriend ever, so many conversations and a sense of comfort that could never be replaced. innocence.

plus, in gayland, everyone's trying to figure out which one YOU are. XO

this dog.

it’s debatable who actually saved who.

quin, short for mom’s maiden name quinlan, is an everyday christmas morning gift kind-of-gift. i could never have imagined the most fun daily adventures and the deepest level of love and companionship.

anddd let’s be honest, the everyday coaxing of “tinkles and poopydoops.”

happiest holidays!!! from our little love.

never judge a book by it's cover.

enough time has passed, that i feel i have collected my thoughts. more importantly, i have the ability to acknowledge all that i have learned.

on may 18, 2014 my new boyfriend and i were walking home after dinner/drinks with my coworkers. we were held up. we were robbed. and i was pistol-whipped. unconscious for almost 24 hours. TBI.

i woke up in a room of loved-ones, that perpetually makes me teary-eyed. they comforted me. they advocated for me. they loved me.

career immediately on the breaks, focus became a slew of therapies that i knew nothing about. simple things became firsts. remembering three objects. standing on one foot. managing my own schedule. holding conversation. waitingroomafterwaitingroom. typing. texting. and taking the T.

until i was able to graduate therapies, get back to work full time, and ultimately live again, i never thought i was impaired. people don’t think that there is anything wrong with themselves. they lack an awareness that has a verrrrrrrrrry long road ahead, with an equal measure of pot holes, bikers and city traffic. learn as much as you can about yourself. have patience. have empathy. have human strength.

clichés or not, ‘life is short.’ ‘regret nothing.’ ‘don’t burn your bridges.’ ‘actions speak louder than words.’ 'time will tell.' ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.’

i am living proof of all of these. and more.

‘live!’

dear diary,

today i tried really hard.

wished a loved-one well, for an upcoming hurdle.

dreamed.

allowed my heart to feel for rosie o'donnell. anddd donald trump.

let a family member know i was thinking of them.

learned from a gigantic mistake at work.

felt comfort with my mom's presence.

met a friend half-way.

today, i did my best.

until next time,
patrick

#brotherscorcoran

stars aligning, we're able to get together once a year. the three of us are so fortunate to have only two years apart from each other, but we couldn't be hella different from one another. we are family. (cue) i got all my bruthas wit me.

these vacations are also an opportunity to see my mom again through both of them:

greg: uber punctual, the handiest, little bit uva' bahston accent and can talk with seriously ANYONE.
chris: mad hosting skills, ridic hardworking, 'clean-as-you-go' nature and every kiddie's best friend.

we definitely don't see each as often we'd like, but it's a guarantee for a really good time. like, so many laugh lines - next year, let's get botox!


*sorry i was such a tattle tale growing up, but now i work in HR  ...  so it really worked out for me.*

judgment.

as closing arguments have rest, bostonian’s aren’t sure what to feel. nothing could possibly ease the minds and memories of what once happened during the boston marathon.

each of us have been, or directly know someone who has been, to boylston st., memorial drive, MIT, and watertown. or even ran the boston marathon. let’s make an effort to be nice to one another. i’m not talking ‘buy the person behind you a cup of coffee’, i’m talking smiling, thank you’s, and awareness of others’ space and property.

whatever is meant to happen to dzhokhar tsarnaev, i can only hope that he has realized that actions have consequences. however severe. this side or the other. 

my best friend's engagement

a bar. the office. a blind setup. dating websites. or even unmentionable apps. 

our ability to meet more people has advanced significantly with technological help. 2009 was a big year for me, as i couldn't wait to move downtown boston (from the suburbs.) i was addicted to match.com and okcupid in order to meet more people. i quickly became interested in this cool guy that seemed to have his shit together - plus he was kind of handsome. in an eddie bauer sort of way. family, career aspirations and even mutual friends were all chatted over a couple of dinners and drinks.

an amazing friendship was created and i literally don't know what my life would be like if he wasn't a text away. he has supported me through just short of everything and even tells me (and anyone in earshot) when i look a little 'puffy.'

you never know what type of relationship may evolve when you meet someone. i am beyond lucky to wish my best friend a happy engagement.  i look up to you and your happiest journey!!!