Say anything

A man I don't know told me, after repeatedly asking me if I had changed my hair, that I always look beautiful while I was working at the store.

I'm not really sure how I feel about this. On the one hand, I was flattered that he would pay me a compliment out of the blue when he had no idea who I was. But on the other hand, his hastily blurted out phrase made me think. How many times am I more comfortable telling a complete stranger I meet that they have lovely eyes or that I like their blouse than I am telling my own friends or my family that they're incredible? Why do I have such a hard time saying, "I love you" to my mom when I care enough about the customers in my store to feel such compassion for them and sometimes express it?

Maybe you have an easier time than I do telling the people around you how you feel, but if you're like me, you need a little extra practice. So here's my suggestion: tell somebody you love something that you've been too afraid or too absentminded to say and see what happens. It might end badly — like it did when I said the three magic words to the only man I ever loved and he admitted that he didn't love me back. Or it might be amazing — like when I finally started saying the same three words to my family after a lifetime of never saying them out loud.

I don't know what will happen, but I'd be curious to find out. Let me know, if you feel comfortable sharing, your experiences with finally spilling the beans in a good way. I'll be waiting.

First degree

I am a college graduate — and I am spending my days checking groceries at the store in my hometown. Sometimes, this is depressing. I'm itching to write stories and edit things. I want to sit in an office and ponder how to design this great magazine. And I want to be using my degree in communication to change somebody's life through something I write.

But until that point, I try to find happiness in the little things that happen at the grocery store. There's the guy who looks like Tom Selleck (I don't really know his name) and comes in a few times a week to get some groceries with his daughter. There's the lady with gigantic tinted glasses that magnify her eyes to at least three times their size — and she has a heart even bigger than her eyes. And there's the guy who always tells me, "You don't want to know" when I ask how he's doing, although he always seems to be in a better mood when I hand him his groceries.

It's easiest to pass the time when I focus on the funny little quirks of my town and the people I grew up with and love. It's fun to joke with the down-to-earth farmers and the worn-out moms. But most of all, it's nice to have a little bit more time in a community of some of the best, kindest people in the whole wide world. A degree can't buy you that.