Feeling Green

So I'm in this totally AWESOME Journaling Group that meets once a month. It's an all-women group, and we talk (and write) about self-knowledge, wisdom, intuition and-- this year-- ourselves in relation to each of the seven chakras.

This month, we are focusing on Fourth Chakra. Heart Chakra. It's green, and gold. Here are some of the things that this particular embodied energy focal point is about:
generosity, transformation, balance, awareness of universal consciousness, wealth, imagination, determination, will power, the heart and upper back, circulatory system and immune system

It is the element of Air, and the sense of Touch. It is the heart of emotional healing, personal evolution, and clear vision. The Heart Chakra is the center of the chakra system in that it connects the three higher and the three lower chakras. Through this chakra, we learn to get in touch with our core being and our inner truth. It is the balance point of the higher self and how we manifest that self here in the mundane world. "As Above, So Below." (Some of this is quoted from VJ's notes for our group. Thanks VJ!)

And after writing and thinking about this for a bit, I had the realization that WEALTH and DOLLARS are a part of that healing Green Energy of the Fourth Chakra. Who Knew?? And that when I do finally dig myself out of debt and have money to spare, my heart's desire is to buy land and create spiritual and physical sanctuary on it, using (guess what!) Green Building techniques, and Green Energy sources-- in a more mundane sense of the words. To create a place of healing. So in a fairly direct way, me receiving money (which just happens to be green in our culture) allows me to give healing in bigger and better ways, the more money I receive. It allows me to magnify the amount of green heart-healing energy I give back to the world. Through my very use of money, it becomes a green energy in and of itself.

I know-- it's crazy.

For someone who actually has felt rather dirty about accepting money to heal people and be their Life Coach in an eternal Wise Woman sort of way... this was a real revelation. I heal emotional issues for my clients-- and I do it through the chakra energy of my heart. Green Energy.

And suddenly, I'm coming to terms with the reality that if I DON'T get paid in money what my healing energy is worth, I won't have the basic building blocks (food, clothing, shelter, freedom from debilitating debts) that I need if I want to stay energized and capable of helping others to heal. I've had this block against earning money for what I just naturally do. Money is not natural. I knew the block was there, but I didn't seem able to budge it. And this week, my Journaling Group changed all that.

So I thought I'd share. I'm really thrilled, actually. I finally understand ENERGETICALLY how important the money piece is to the whole healing circle of green energy in today's world. I'm finally making peace with the role money plays in my life. I'm learning not to resent my need for money. If I'm lucky, this might even make it easier for me to draw money-- and opportunities to earn money-- into my life path.

And now that I'm beyond the shock and awe of having that particular personal block to a healthy relationship with money just ...disintegrate... I'm starting to realize how unhealthy our whole nation's relationship with money is right now. I mean, here are some signs of a blocked Heart Chakra:
Feelings of jealousy, indifference, loneliness. Becoming needy, grabby, or demanding. Asking others for love and fulfillment, rather than looking within for self-love and self-fulfillment. Fear, despair, hate, longing. Pretending we don't need other people. Pretending we can cope with everything the world and life throws at us-- all by ourselves, alone.

And I thought, what a perfect description of the relationship I have had (and I think most of us have in this flailing economy) with money. It's amazing what a perfectly nice person will do to someone else, even someone they love, once money enters the picture. For myself, I've been jealous of those who have money. I've felt desperate to get or earn money. I often looked to others and their ways of earning and spending, instead of focusing on the relationship *I* want to build with money, and the strengths and abilities I want to use to earn it.

I have spent the last five years in a constant state of financial fear. I have hated my dependence on money, and yet I longed to have more of it. I have pretended all was well, in my financial world, while quickly falling into debt and despair. And I have insisted that I shouldn't need money-- or help with my budget and/or cash flow-- to get by. I have bought into the myth that talking about money, and my relationship to it, is shameful.

I've been very unhealthy and wrong and just BLOCKED, without even knowing HOW I was blocked and unhealthy. All I knew was that I had to find some way to unblock if I wanted to actually be able to have money come into my life (ie: income), rather than always watching it leave. And now, I'm excited to understand that money doesn't have to be evil. I begin to feel GOOD about my potential to earn large quantities of it. Because I spend large quantities of energy doing good work for other people (and therefore for myself) and for the Earth.

It is fair and reasonable that I be recompensed in a format that enables me to keep doing what I do-- only better. I'm excited to learn how much MORE I can do as a healer now that I've finally unblocked my Heart Chakra. And I'm curious to see the effects of finally allowing my definitions of "Abundance" and "Wealth" to include financial well-being, and an abundance of income. My definitions remain very broad-- but I realize now that it's okay to wish for not only an abundance of good friends, good food, good health, and good experiences-- but also to look for a good income as a vital part of truly Abundant Living. Wish me well-- it's turning out to be quite a journey.

Responsobiligity

When I was a little girl, my mom taught me to ignore the annoying kids in my class, and maybe then they'd get bored and go away. As a strategy, it worked fairly well. Certainly, the parents and teachers loved my "adult approach" to problems.

By the time I was in third grade, I was such a good little two-shoes that the teacher, Mrs. Z, put me in the seat between two of the most disruptive goof-offs in class. Both named Aaron. Problem was that they were funny and interesting, and the conversations that went on behind my head weren't always that easy to ignore. I tell you, bad boys just have more fun.

But when they had conversations of which I did NOT approve, boy-howdy did I put a lid on it fast! My "oh, no you DON'T" stare was cold, direct (A quick flick of my head sideways to meet Aaron's eyes for half a second, just long enough to raise one eyebrow menacingly, and then full focus back on the teacher at the front of the room. Just like that.), and uncompromising. Sometimes it even worked. But I rarely said a word. Good kids didn't talk when the teacher was talking. And I knew I'd been placed in that situation to ignore the boys into good behavior.

In sixth grade, a boy with a really tough life figured he could out-annoy my tactic of "ignore and avoid." And eventually, he was right. I caught the attention of a teacher and explained the challenge I was having with locker-access between classes, since JO was always there to slam the locker shut for me again. When the teacher explained to JO that his homeroom teacher was my dad... Well, he left me alone after that. And I continued to ignore him.

In eighth grade, a different boy went straight from annoy to abuse. And no matter how hard I ignored him, I still went home from school every day with extra bruises. Eventually I again approached a teacher for help. This time it took a while, but eventually the kid's parents decided it was in his best interests to pretend I didn't exist, and I was allowed to get on with my life. We both worked hard to ignore and avoid each other for the whole four years of high school, where we both played violin in Orchestra class every day.

My first serious boyfriend was in high school... And he often forgot to show up for our planned dates and get-togethers and such. He often ignored my phone calls, too. I worked very hard to ignore the things I didn't like in our relationship because I wanted to succeed with him the same way I'd learned to succeed in school as a little girl. His other girlfriend-- when I found out about her-- was a bit harder to overlook. So I decided to ignore them both.

Add six years, a different guy, a wedding... and you have my marriage. In which I learned to ignore my own needs, my feelings, and my right to be treated with respect. Because that was the only way my marriage was peaceful. That was the only way my marriage was going to succeed. And I didn't want to be the bad guy. Ignore the annoyance-- the way the boy in the seat next to you is goofing off and making bad choices in his life and generally distracting you from your work and your goals-- and it'll stop. Right?

So here I am. Knowing already that I am not Cinderella (see previous post)... And I am facing the fact (again) that my most-used coping mechanism for things that bother/annoy/frustrate me... is to ignore them, and hope they go away. Some life skill. It didn't work in my marriage. It sure isn't working on my financial and job woes. Or on my cat's arthritis, come to that. And it's all gotten a bit over my head, really... But the thing I just tripped over is the realization that there's no teacher to go to for help on this one... And the last few teachers (or counselors, or Argmy Commanders) I went to weren't always that helpful in the situation anyway.

So now I'm thinking--
Maybe we should teach little girls Aikido or Brazilian Ju-Jitsu, and encourage them to confront life's frustrations HEAD-F*ING-ON!! Because we sure aren't doing them any favors by training them to believe that being nice and pretending the problem doesn't exist will make everything in their life okay.

I'm just saying is all...

Gone Fishin

So, having decided I'm ready to date... and being a woman of action...
I've informed my friends I'm available to be set up (in a good way). And then I joined a dating site. Well, actually, I joined TWO dating sites. And the first thing I learned was that the free ones work just as well as the costly ones (I'm not paying, thank you). The second thing I learned was that dating websites are popular BY REGION. So the one that works for my bff in Philly just ain't cutting it here in my neck of the Western Woods.

HOWEVER, there's another free one that my awesome housemate introduced me to, and It's called PlentyofFish. Aptly named. And then I discovered that there are RULES. UNWRITTEN RULES about using dating websites. Like-- the boys I'm emailing with all asked me a deeper relationship question ON THE FOURTH EMAIL, so apparently three good exchanges are the magic number. And boys may ask lots of leading questions about places you like to go and things you like to do... but they don't actually ask you to DO ANY OF THEM. And on the public conversation threads, questions for girls to answer are actually answered JUST AS OFTEN BY BOYS. They just don't read directions, do they. And not only that, but the boys who come across via email as "shy" seem to have gotten favorable rating stars on their profiles more often than boys who come across as Lotharios or jocks. You know how it goes-- the quiet ones usually have a lot more going on than the braggarts.

Luckily, I also got some great advice, and some great pumping up of my ego, from two of my favorite male friends, before I went fishing for boys on the interweb. And, they tell me that since THEY are boys, too, their advice is very good indeed.

So, per the advice of happily married male experts everywhere, I am being a bit selfish, very self-confident, and I am calling all the shots MY WAY. It's quite fun.

And as a result, I am now looking forward to meeting someone (who sounds really cool, very intelligent, and has an awesome motorcycle and a really cool job fighting fires and setting up aid stations after natural disasters) in a very public place to walk, talk, and find out what kind of vibe I get from him in person-- later this week. And this is after telling him I'm divorced and I'm worried about his self-esteem. Nice, huh?

I've also been invited on a hike by another nice-sounding local man, who is definitely in better shape than I am, and has now reassured me TWICE that he grew up in a household where his mom worked and his dad raised the kids, and so he's really into equality. But I'm going to run that one by some friends first. It's not as public as I'd like for a first meeting. But it's a hike I've never done in an area I told him I like hiking, and he's already made two other semi-suggestions that I vetoed. I'm really glad he keeps trying. He sounds nice. And that's to say nothing of Kirk, who lives on a farm and raises organic wheat grass for smoothies. He's shy.

The rest of the advice, which I'm keeping carefully in mind-- per my tendency to care a lot about others' well-being-- is that apparently, it is good for boys to cry into their beers over a woman once in a while. And that I'm worth going to a lot of trouble for.

Whyever it is, this advice TOTALLY freed me from guilt, worry, or nerves while "fishing." And I expect it to continue to serve me well in actual meetings with boys, and even potential SECOND MEETINGS WITH BOYS. (Look out, Trouble! I'm coming to visit, and somebody else is paying the tab!!) I love my friends.

The most bizarre thing I've learned about dating websites is that 90% of the men on them (at least in my age group) are divorced, and 75% of those have their kids on alternating weekends. Don't know why that surprised me so much... All these divorced men with kids in their early thirties.

And I find that while I'm not sure I want to make babies of my own, I don't mind the idea of occasional visits from other peoples' babies. And I have more respect for the guys who put it RIGHT OUT FRONT that whoever dates them has to understand that their kids come first. As well they should, I say! However, I'm also just as glad that the two guys I'm probably going to meet soonest don't have kids. Or so they tell me.

And the photo I used on my profile? It's of me on the beach in the middle of winter. I'm bundled head-to-toe, but I'm also totally happy because I'm on the beach. So these guys aren't picking me for my bra size. I'm sneaky like that.

So, you know, adventures in dating. I'll keep you posted.

At the Root

I've been working to strengthen my Root Chakra lately. (Strength is important-- particularly when you've got a cat lying on your arms and you're trying to type.) It has been a roller-coaster couple of weeks, and the timing for having my Root Chakra nice and strong couldn't be better.

Calamity comes in all shapes and sizes, and a bunch of my dear friends have been faced with one calamity or another in the past week or two. And it's a relief to support them all without having to also feel all their pain for them. At this point, I've done enough work as a Life Coach to be able to separate what *I* am feeling on my own behalf from what I am feeling on SOMEONE ELSE'S behalf.

And so I was tired from all the energy I (gladly) used in support of my friends coping with life-crisis stuff... but I wasn't emotionally overwhelmed or incapacitated by all the grief. And I'm really proud of myself for that.

The Root Chakra, by the way, is the one in charge of our connection with the Earth, our sense of security and belonging, our financial and physical well-being, our safety, our solidity in whatever we are trying to accomplish with our lives, and our groundedness. (is that a word?) And each chakra has a specific "right" attached to it-- like the right to bare arms, only that isn't one of them. For the Root Chakra, you have the right to be here; and the right to have.

It was a weird sort of awareness for me to realize that I've spent most of my life working really hard to make other people look good, and help other people achieve their dreams/goals/successes. And I've spent the last several years not really believing I had a right to my own success, or to use my skills and experiences and abilities to make MYSELF look good. No wonder it's been so hard to find a good-paying job. I never felt like I deserved one!

Over the past few weeks, I've made a point of focusing on my Root Chakra, and being grounded in my right to have, for a few minutes every day. And I can feel the difference. I'm a lot better grounded than I was a few weeks ago. Thank goodness, considering all the challenges that have come up since then.

Even the visit to the Family Farm couldn't have been better-timed. OH-- and I finally broke down and bought some freeze-dried nettle leaf capsules (instead of relying solely on my home-brew nettle tincture)-- and they are SO controlling my allergies with NO side effects!!! YAY for uninterrupted sleep!! (Except of course, that Abbigale continues to throw up a little too frequently this week, and I had to jump out of bed an hour before my alarm so I could give her some tummy meds-- which did work this time, thank goodness!)

Head full of Bricks

So February was the month of the Cat Scare. March? March is, apparently, the month of the flu. As in, I caught it, and here we are ten days later, and I'm still not fully recovered. And I'm tired of it. Seriously. I have a life I'd like to be living-- or at least pursuing.

In fact, the last few days I've really pushed my limits with pretending I was finally all better. And really, my brain is starting to function again... It's my body thats having issues. I even went to the doctor (first time in over three years) to make sure there's no REASON for me to still be this lacking in energy. And she tells me that while I still have so much mucus and crap in my head that it has pushed my ear cup flat, I'm basically healthy. Yay.

So yesterday I went with my folks to check out the Da Vinci exhibit. And it's pretty cool. They've recreated a few pages from his personal notebooks, one of which explores the way that a planet and a sun affect the light on another planet. VERY COOL to see that!! And they've rebuilt a bunch of the machines and concepts of flight, motion, and energy into little wooden examples-- with the same tools and materials that Da Vinci himself would have had access to. And you even get to play with some of the gears!! There are reproductions of his sketches and studies of the human body. And a whole room devoted to his painting.

I'd never really seen the Mona Lisa as anything worth staring at for long periods of time. Dark, kinda dull, and what's the big deal? But somebody has used our friend technology to figure out what the pigments etc probably looked like in Da Vinci's day-- Did you know he painted her in see-thru layers of paint over the course of twenty years, building up each bit until it became solid-looking? That's part of the trick to the depth in the painting. We really are seeing many many layers of paint. And did you know that some idiot actually kept the painting in his BATHROOM for a while? The painting actually has water damage because of that.

A room full of musical instruments and war machines later, and I was barely shuffling along, trying to put one foot in front of the other. I actually fell asleep in the restaurant over lunch, I was so exhausted by the outing. I'm glad I finally had a chance to go-- and it was fun to go with my parents, who were just as fascinated by whether or not the devices would really work, and how and why, as I was. It was frustrating, however, to have that be the sum total of my day's accomplishments. Three hours of standing around, and I slept the rest of the day and a full ten hours last night. GRRRRRR

Anyway, I'm hoping to get something useful done today. Something that will help me get a job or publish my book or feel like I'm contributing to the cleanliness and livability of the household. I sure haven't done much on ANY of those fronts in the past two weeks. Sigh.

Da Vinci was a pretty cool frood, really. He believed that we could learn to do anything that could be done in nature by observing how Nature does it. That a machine could be created to reproduce any action performed by Nature. And so he spent hours and days and months observing the way birds fly, the way people exert force on a lever, the way toes are made to wiggle through their attachment to bone with fine sinews and fibers that direct movement. For Da Vinci, Mother Nature was the ultimate teacher, and he devoted a lifetime to Her lessons.

Well, to paraphrase Da Vinci's classification of people, there are those who understand, those who can be taught to understand, and those who will never understand.
Me myself, I'd say... ...I'm learning.

Hide and Seek

So there's a button on blogger that lets you "hide" your blog listing. And apparently I accidentally pushed that button sometime since my last post.

I've been going crazy this morning trying to track down the access point to this blog, with very little success. It doesn't help that my connection has been getting progressively slower over the last three months, either. All that logging in and out and in and out took time. grrrrrr

Until I finally and for no reason I can fathom decided I must have "hidden" that blog. Then it took me another little while to figure out how to UNHIDE it. And that term does not appear in the google/blogger help directory. So don't bother.

The good news is that there's a little button down at the bottom of the page that says "show all blogs," and when I finally found that button, and selected it, all was again right with my world.

Why are there always prologues to my stories??

Also, apparently due to the amazing levels of unexpected and prolonged gorgeous snow in December, the gas bill was an estimate. Based on earlier times when my housemate didn't actually have the heat on. So this month, we received a bill for what didn't show up last month, and this month's expense. And I guess we have to turn the heat back off now. Because I can't afford to pay her $150 a month to have heat.

So I guess I'll be closing the bedroom door and turning on my space heater. A lot. Because I suspect that the overage I'll pay for the electricity I use is NOTHING compared to this bill. Which actually scares me. A lot.

Besides hunting around for a way to access my own blog, how did I spend the morning? So glad you asked.

I spent this morning writing about my early attempts at marriage counseling, and the last pre-deployment briefing I attended before my X left for Iraq back in 2004. Oh, Joy. That gas bill was really NOT the cap I'd have chosen for my morning of woe.

It was interesting to remember back to the hole in the bedroom door, the Argmy Chaplain who first appeared angry on my behalf, and then when he actually met my X, was angry at me for not doing a better job of supporting such a fine outstanding and upstanding soldgier. It was interesting to remember both the hope I suddenly felt to have an authority figure on my side in my attempts to get marriage counseling and salvage our relationship-- and the utter desolation and isolation that ultimately came of the attempt.

Interesting to remember how life had to keep on keeping on around all that personal pain. We went out to dinner, we said how our day went, we acted like nothing was wrong when other people were around, and I worried about his well-being as he geared up for that deplogyment. And yet, looking back, I realize how absolutely everything had already fallen apart. Long before I actually was ready or willing or able to walk away.

I'm so glad to be here, and not there, now. Even with frozen fingers and a dwindling bank account and a crick in my neck from sitting at the computer too long. I think my story is an important one to tell-- the family side of Argmy Life, but more than that. I'm also telling how-- maybe eventually even WHY-- a marriage can fall apart, and a wife can decide to stay long past all reason. And, hopefully, I can tell a little bit of how to get out of a marriage like that.

I am hopeful. Hopeful for my own life, and for the lives of other women-- argmy or civilian, happy or desperate, married or divorced-- and for the possibility for positive change in every situation. Hopefully, telling my story will make a difference, too.

So I keep writing, and forcing myself to remember those painful, fearful, uncertain times. Times when I hid, or wanted to hide. Times I really don't want to remember anymore. And, hopefully, when it's all done, the results will be worth the journey I took to get them.

In the meantime, anybody know a good (and fairly recently published) memoir I should read? I'm looking for a good editor, and a well-written book might just be the place to start.

Crashing Into Life

Well, I feel loved. Best thing to feel at this particular time of year, and I feel it. As a good old friend of my family would say, "Shight-Howdy, it's enough to make your big toes wiggle!"

And then we'd all laugh, and she'd look at us and say, "Haven't y'all heard that expression before??" As if WE are the weirdos. This year, my immediate family (me and the 'rents) decided to do JUST STOCKINGS, and look at our traditions to figure out which ones are actually special so we can pay more attention when we do them. And it was really one of the best Christmases we've had-- even Papa thought so.

We made Welsh Pasties (HEAVEN IS WAITING IN MY FREEZER!!!), and Ottonian Sour Cream Cookies (They aren't waiting because I already ate them. All of them.), and eggs on toast. I ran into another one of those situations (I run into these a lot) where two different phrases mean the exact same thing, but I didn't know that, and worked really hard to remember the ONE phrase, so when somebody used the OTHER PHRASE, I had no fugging clue what they were talking about. And how silly is that-- because it was the phrase, "fried eggs."

I mean, I've seen it. I always figured I wouldn't like it because I didn't know what it was. Tells you a lot about my relationship to food, doesn't it. My mom didn't cook those, she made me over-hard eggs in a frying pan, and scrambled eggs. But we don't fry ANYTHING in my family, so I KNEW I'd never had "fried eggs." I was actually shocked that my mom would offer me one-- and on Christmas morning, too!! ... And then she gave me that look. That "you've been drinking out of the stupid jar again, haven't you" look. The one that says she thinks I'm intentionally tormenting her by playing dumb, and she is really not happy with me about it.

I guess the good news is she thinks I'm smart enough to know that "fried eggs" are the eggs you cook in a frying pan-- you know, like over-hard eggs, for example. The bad news is, I really didn't know. You have to understand. When I was little, we didn't eat like everybody else, and mom cooked just about everything from scratch. I thought everybody had vegetarian tomato pasta sauce with beans in it. So she knew what I liked, and I knew what she cooked, and if she asked if I wanted eggs, I knew they'd be scrambled. Or she'd let me cut off the whites and just eat those, since I didn't like the yolks. Even when they weren't the consistency of weird yellow-orange mucus.

So then we'd go to a restaurant, and mom would have to translate everything on the menu for me. What sort of eggs are "over easy" eggs? Do I like those? What is French Toast? You mean it's that weird dry bread you coat with egg and then put syrup on? Eww! (FYI, my food repertoire of "likes" has grossly expanded since the time of which I write. I like food now.)

When, as a child, I got tired of trying to figure out egg-cooking-styles and trying to explain to the waitress what I wanted, I finally memorized two easy kinds of egg-cooking-styles that I KNEW I LIKED, and I KNEW THEY COULD COOK. And always since then, if we eat breakfast out, I ask for one of those. Eggs over-hard, or hard-scrambled. Because I'd learned that this is the most easily-understood restaurant term for the kind of eggs my mom cooked for me at home. And that is literally the extent of my egg-preparation-term repertoire. Oh, plus hardboiled. I know those from Easter. Then mom tells me --right there on Christmas morning-- that she's making "boiled eggs" for her and papa.

WTF?! Does she mean HARD boiled?? Is there any OTHER kind of boiled egg? I mean-- parents always yell at their kids for eating cookie dough with UNCOOKED EGGS in it, so... Is this another trick like the "fried eggs" situation?? sigh... I guess I must have ROLLED in stupid-juice without even noticing last night, because apparently I reek of it. Just look at her scrunched up face when I ask for clarification on THAT one!!

See, fancy literature and books about dragons rarely describe cooked eggs in both visual and restaurantees terms enough to picture what is what-- so eggs are not among the information and vocabulary and phrases that I gleaned from said "literature." I may have told my dad as a pre-pubescent teen that "my cup runeth over" when he gave me too much milk once-- and known both the literal and the poetic meanings of the phrase used... but what has THAT got to do with the price of EGGS?!

Ahem-- so anyway, I felt loved this holiday season. And I was able to hi-jack my friend's car with the walnut-studded tires and the cold weather engine starter and the eco-diesel green gas juice and all, and drive IT through the frozen and bumpy wasteland of insane Christmas-Eve highway drivers to my parents' house so I COULD bake cookies and pasties and eggs with them. It was wonderful.

I also got phone calls from several friends to make sure I arrived there safely, or was doing okay with all the insane snow we received. Can you believe we had a WHITE CHRISTMAS on the west coast? When has THAT happened before?! Even weirder than fried eggs, I tell you! And I'm about to head over to check my mail. There may be Christmas Cards I don't know about. It's been almost two weeks since I could get close enough to the post office to park my car and go in.

And then on Sunday, my extended West Coast Family all mustered together and celebrated, and shared "extended family love" with the little kids. It was the start of another great Christmas tradition that we all want to remember for next year, too. Not quite as grand as the ones we used to have back east (50 people, lots of excellent insanity), but still... And that reminds me-- I've got cheese in my backpack, and it really ought to be put in the fridge here soon.

Merry Everything, and many happy returns of it all to you and yours.
Or, as my family probably will say after they read about the eggs,
"Here's egg in your face!" Which I know is a quote, but have NO idea where it came from. And I'm actually okay with that. Really.

Snow Daze

Holiday greetings to everyone. I'm so excited that we have SNOW just now!! How often does THAT happen in December?!

Had a great talk with my good friend SLM recently, speaking of snow. We decided that anybody who is not us should not be driving in it. Because we both learned in Michigan winters, with snow and ice and wind, oh my! And therefore, our snow driving skills are superior. Especially when you consider that most of the folks on the road in the West just now learned to drive in California.

I had breakfast with another great friend of mine-- Big D-- this morning. He rode his bike on the icy streets. I drove my light-weight no-traction-anyway little car. We figure the only thing we have in common about transportation right now is that we both get out and walk on the hills.

And, while driving (very slowly) to meet him, I saw a lot of driving that made my teeth hurt. Idiots thinking that because they drive a truck with big-ass wheels, ice does not affect them. People who drove nice and slow and safe while moving, but didn't give themselves enough time to stop the vehicle (and thus went straight through the red light while the rest of us who DID manage to stop safely just watch them slide past). You know you're in the Pacific Northwest when the folks who accidentally slide through an intersection on a red light wave their thanks to the cars on either side for not hitting them. In Chicago, the fugcker flying through on the red just flips everyone else off on his way past.

Anyway, back to the great conversation I had with my friend SLM. We also came up with yet another awesome word to add to my personal vocabulary list: passenjerk. Because we've both had the misfortune to be stuck driving some fool and his opinions around in our cars. In fact, my X used to get more angry at me and be a bigger jerk toward me when we were driving than at most other times (there are exceptions). I think it was because he knew I couldn't escape at those times. Sad but true. If you're going to have a big-angry or difficult discussion? Don't do it while one of you is driving. Please. And make sure your breaks are working well beforehand. Trust me.

In the meantime, I'm really enjoying the wind and the white and the sparkly silence that come with winter weather here. Even the sun is more exciting when it snows beforehand. So, as I've been saying to my clients and friends alike: Happy Everything!!

Glossy

Today, I finally made an appointment with the volunteer business counselors at SCORE (yay free!), and applied for about four writing or researching -intensive jobs in town. It's been quite a day. I have to tell you, I'm frustrated with the online testing idea. It's a great idea, but the kind of people that test well with no context and no actual customer service skills? They aren't necessarily what I'd call a representative sampling of the exceptional customer service and networking crowd, doncha know.

Also, if I have to start over from scratch every time I try to click on something that isn't part of the "acceptable path to success" that they've mapped out one click at a time? They make you start over. Yeah. So the number of clicks seem to be on a golf scoring system-- anything above the proscribed number of clicks counts against you. Also, everything is timed.

I really wanted a moment of Godzilla-ness by the time I ran out of time for being online taking the damn test at the library, and had to log off, after only completing about five of the eight sections of testing for computer skills and speeds and program abilities-- for a CUSTOMER SERVICE JOB!!! And I still don't know who the employer is.

Yeah. In other news, I'm excited to meet with the small business dudes. They are both named David. They are worried that this will confuse me. They don't know anything about my specific "specialty" as they delicately put it, but they are willing to work with me on marketing it. And for all the irony in my blogger-voice, I really do appreciate their willingness to do so. I suspect that working with competent business dudes who are uncomfortable with alternative healing therapies will benefit me in several ways. First, anything THEY like, ANYBODY will like. Second, They'll really know what to avoid mentioning when I go on my quest for sponsorship and micro-loans. Third, they probably have CONNECTIONS.
Thank you, David.



Also, a possible apartment option has opened up near where I already live. And for about the combined price of my storage and current rent payments every month. There's definitely some potential there. AND the person who is moving out is a friend of mine, with cats. And she built them a window-deck for outdoor kitty viewing pleasure. Which she and the landlord will leave up for me, if I end up taking the space. (There is someone else with a one-day head start on the "I want that" process, but move-in isn't until December, and I've got awesome insider connections, so hey.)

Kudos, by the way, to this amazing nutritional booster juice called Ageless Extra. Taken daily, in small doses, it overcomes headcolds in a single leap! It provides boundless youthful energy when you forget to sleep! It slices, dices, and even fills in all the nutritional gaps in ANYBODY's diet-- making your body AND your mind regenerate faster, younger, smarter. (Now with gold body glitter and free tongue-piercing!!)

Okay, I lied about the body glitter. But it really does make a noticeable difference in the elasticity of my health, and my overall daily performance. And I digest it one hella-hundred percent better than any daily multivitamin I've ever tried. Dinner with friends on the nights I need to re-stock my supply is a welcome bonus.

OH-- and I am getting published in a nice little local seasonal newspaper called OpenWays. The issue they tell me I'm in comes out December 1st. Happy Winter, everybody!


....WHEEEEEE.....

Travel Guide

I'm told that the Answer to life, the universe, and everything is 42. And that it'll take another million years to figure out what the Question actually was. And that first book really did have some great advice for travelers. A towel really is a comforting thing to have along-- and it can be put to any number of important uses. A good towel is worth a lot of money, and the time it takes you to pack and repack until it fits into your suitcase is always well-spent, according to the Hitch-Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

It gives you a tangible reminder of home. It can be used to dry off, shade from the heat, wrap up from the cold, sit on, sit under, thwhack annoying teens with, brush off dirt and sand, clean your hands of any number of other undesirable substances, make you look like you know what you're doing and where you're going, etc etc etc...

But that's just not the kind of travel I'm doing. And while I'd really like to feel comfortable, well-grounded, prepared, and at home during this particular stretch of my personal journey... somehow I don't think a towel is going to cut it. I think really what I need is a compass, and a better job market. And maybe just a little more self-confidence and courage as well.

Especially if I'm really going to make Life Coaching into a full-time profession. Because my clientelle in THAT sector continues to grow little by little... and because I continue to look forward to interviewing for positions as a librarian, and even getting HIRED to WORK as a librarian... but it hasn't happened yet. It's been many months since I even had an interview in that arena.

So... what do I need to do to grow into a self-sustaining business model for life coaching? well, I need to identify the markets I want to pursue. I need to find a space to hold sessions. I need to write up a business plan, including scripting for difficult situations, for self-marketing, and so on. I need to settle on AND MAINTAIN a system for retaining data about my business finances, data about my clients, data of contact info, data for my network as it grows, data about where and how and how much I promote my services... and data about how the clients I do see find me. I need to post more regularly to my "self-help" blog-- and tell my clients about it. I need to print out a HELL of a lot more business cards and informational pamphlets, too, and join some groups where I'm the only (or the first, or SOMETHING) personal life coach in the group... And I need to locate my coaching resources and make them available to my practice-- get them out of those darn storage boxes and bins and piles on the other side of town.

Mostly, I need to clean up my personal space, and get some sort of healthy schedule to my life so that when opportunity DOES knock-- in whatever form it takes-- I'm ready. I intend to come from (and return to) a place that is clean, that is friendly and inviting, that is somewhat organized, and that I can be proud to say represents me and how I exist in the world. And that goes for both my physical home and my mental/spiritual space as well. I want to see my best self so that I can dwell on that, and put my best foot forward into the world for others to see.

Nobody prepares you for this stuff, growing up. Nobody tells you that it's probably going to be a while before you really get to where you want to be. That whatever it is you just spent a whole lot of time training for, and went into serious debt to become, is probably NOT what you'll actually get to DO in your lifetime. Nobody teaches you healthy ways to cope with and overcome all the daily and extreme situational stress that is part of an adult's decision-making process. And nobody explains WHY a sense of humor and a positive outlook are so important to finding personal happiness and success.

As my bff SLM recently said, THIS ISN'T COVERED IN THE MANUAL!!! It's true that as you get to be an adult, you gain access to a much wider variety of choices. But it's also true that the repercussions of those choices also become much bigger... and that often the choices we have in a given situation are not the ones we expect-- or even want. Hmmm... I COULD spend my free afternoon doing yardwork in the middle of a 100* heat wave... or I could stay inside where it's cool, drinking ice tea and catching up on the last three months of business news and new tech tools for my profession-- and risk getting a fine and a notice from the local HOA. Or I could just say "freck it all!" and risk both being obsolete and work AND getting into trouble at home-- to go spend the afternoon hiking around cool and beautiful waterfalls with a good friend I haven't seen in months. Hmmm...

Maybe 42 is how old you have to be for all the pieces of your life to finally start fitting together. I wouldn't know. I'm about to turn 3o. And while I have figured out what sorts of things I want to do with my life, and how I personally define "Abundance," and how a budget works, and what it means to take personal responsibility for my choices and actions... I haven't figured out how to fit all of those things together into Abundant Living-- and I'm still searching for that first job on the road to my professional career. I am still searching for financial independence.

I've just started my first Yoga class. Sure, I occasionally went to yoga with my mom, but those are HER yoga classes, and I usually ended up overdoing and being in pain and not going back. This is my first Yoga class for and about me. It's an opportunity to work on my flexibility and muscle tone, to work on my physical health and my mental focus, my balance, my range of motion, etc etc... but it's also an opportunity for me to work on grounding and centering myself. I would dearly like to feel more grounded and centered. And I know yoga will help me with that so far as mental discipline goes. ...But it has also clarified for me that being grounded in my life is yet another animal, and one that I've made great leaps of progress toward, without yet reaching. This is not a good time to be unemployed.

SHHHHH

So I'm reading this book called "Stupid History," and I'm actually enjoying it. Partly, this is because all these weird bits of history that we all remember (like Paul Revere's ride to warn everyone that the British were coming)... is, according to this author guy-- and I did find the book in the nonfiction section of the library-- FALSE!!! There were, apparently, THREE men who rode out to warn everyone that the troops were coming along behind-- but those pesky Brits caught up with them. One man fled back home. One (Revere) got captured and thrown in jail overnight, without ever reporting anything to anyone, and the third man is the guy who actually did get away and ride through the town of Concord, I think it was, and yell warning. For whatever good it did everybody anyway.

The other reason I'm enjoying the book is that each story is about half a page long. And that is about all the attention span I have at the moment. Because, for the last two nights, my house mate has been out of town, and the natives have, as they say, been restless. First, Bubba clawed a hole in the new bag of cat food. Then, they all took turns hissing about who was allowed to be in the bedroom with me and who wasn't. A furry belly slinked past the top of my head at one point in the night, and I heard lots of loud cat-thumping sometime after 4am.

Cat-Thumping, by the way, is what happens when your cat suddenly gets that wild look in her eye, glares at a point up and to the left of your head, and then starts running like an insane and possessed beast up, down, around, across, back, over, around again, up, down, PAUSE... and then careens off to hide under the bed or go lick her butt in the kitchen or something. And while the cat does all this crazy running, her little 11 lbs of fuzz and claws makes about as much noise as a 200 lb man with army boots on-- only faster. Cat-thumping.

So, anyway, I'm a little tired tonight. I'm also prepared. First, I'm going to put Abbigale in the bedroom. Then, I'm going to lavish attention on the little grey monsters until they refuse to be in the same room with me anymore. Then I'm going to brush my teeth, and go to bed. I've also re-potted the cat food and cat treats from their flimsy plastic bags to specially purchased vacuum sealed heavy-duty glass containers. Even tho the containers are see-through, Bubba has walked by them TWICE now, trying to locate the food bag.

HAH! I leer in his general direction!!! And, hopefully, I also get some healthy sleep tonight. I'm really tired. Really.

3-2-1... CONTACT!

Three cats,
Two litter boxes,
One spot of sun.


...sometimes life is a contact sport...


(And by the way, I finally started that list of dating questions-- it's on the right.)

Finding Time

This is actually a post about Yoga. Maybe I'm just talking about how hard it is to take time out of my day for me... and how I connect that with being female in this time and place. Maybe it's something else all together. As I wrote it, the post just kept getting longer and longer... I think I'm worried that I didn't share this lesson well enough, or that I'm talking to people who only exist in my head... I'm worried that I will sound pitiful, or worse-- preachy... I sometimes think that we, as women, often have too hard a time recognizing our own wisdom and our own worth... So I'm not going to cut this one down to a more manageable size. I think it's important. Whatever it is.

See, there's this list of "someday" goals in my head. The ones I never do find time to commit to-- ones that don't put food on the table, a roof over my head, and don't benefit anyone but me. This is where I keep my desires like spending a whole week at a bed-and-breakfast on the beach, instead of using my vacation time and money on a trip to Michigan with my family every year... The list that has my wish to learn how to make bread-- good old hearty nutty flavorful bread. My desire for a gym membership ended up on this list, too. With a limited income, a weekly lunch with the people I love is just more important, for the price. And I still haven't found energy or supplies to build that Navajo Loom I want to play with-- nor research what kind of string I'd need to warp it with. Come to think of it-- when would I have time?

I'm not willing to give up my sleep-- the whole "get up 30 minutes earlier" plan just sounds like a way to substitute one healthy thing for another when I hear it. Less sleep, but more exercise... is that really helping me? Or less sleep but more time to write, more time to meditate, more time for a walk every day, more time to fix a healthy lunch before I go to work-- Suddenly I wonder if I shouldn't just be staying up all night to find the extra time I want for ALL the things I want to enjoy in my day!

So I'm not going to give up sleep to improve my life. That's an oxymoron waiting to happen. But I do want to include more good stuff in the time that I'm awake (and fewer morons). Maybe I don't need as much time checking email before I start my day. Maybe I don't need as much time watching movies to unwind at night before bed. Maybe I need to start out slowly. Maybe I already have.

I found a book on Yoga-- it has a 5-minute routine in it. And once I made time for five minutes of yoga in my morning prep... it wasn't so hard to move up to the 15-minute version the book also offers. Heck! I might eventually work my way up to the 90-minute yoga routine the book includes before the year is gone! And I found a book called Gardener's Yoga, by Veronica D'Orazio (Sasquatch Books, 2006). I'm actually giving this one to my mom for her birthday. I think it will suit her, so don't you go telling her about it first!

The book is split into three sections. The first section is a preparation for working the earth, and coincidentally contains about ten minutes of "getting started" Yoga poses. The second section is another ten minutes of Yoga, this time geared toward stretching out the kinks that come from all that weeding and squatting down. The last ten minute section is for the end of the day, to help your body relax after hard work. I love how well the poses flow into one another, and I love how well they are integrated into the seasons and the phases of the garden.

I've realized that the hard part about taking care of me has always been getting started. I've had trouble committing myself to spending large chunks of my time doing selfish things. And in my head, I thought of the things I want to do just for me-- like Yoga and writing and meditating and weaving... I've thought of them as a selfish way to spend my time. But on the days I do them, I'm a better worker at my day job, and I grow stronger as a person. I feel healthy, and I have more patience with the world. So for now, I may only spend ten minutes doing Yoga in the morning, but I'm learning to feel good about that. I see it as a foundation for more good things to grow from. I'm learning that taking good care of me has a good impact on the people around me, too. It's not wrong to love and care for myself. In fact, nobody else can do it better.

Maybe I didn't have to find the time so much as I had to convince myself that I am worth spending quality time on. ...And that I don't have to start doing it all at once. I certainly didn't learn that one from my mother, or my ex. In fact, most women I know have a very hard time (there's that word again!!) doing things for themselves in a consistent way, or having the things they do accepted by their partners as worth the time. There's always something more important they could be doing. But here's the challenge-- if YOU don't think you're important (if you don't think your NEEDS are important), nobody else will either. And that is wrong. You are important. Worth doing good things for.

I don't mean the extra chocolate bar when you've had a bad day... (well, not JUST that!) I mean that 20 minutes of uninterrupted meditation in a quiet room every night so you can sleep comfortably. I mean that hour on the phone with your family or your best friend who moved away five years ago-- every weekend, without trying to multi-task while you talk. I mean the five minutes you spend standing still to enjoy the beauty of a tree, and just BREATHE for a minute, as you rush between buildings, meetings, and soccer practice every afternoon. I mean that 10 minutes I'm spending on my Yoga every morning before work, and the effort it takes to keep a clean spot on the floor big enough to do it in. I mean refusing to stay up that extra half an hour at night to get everyone else ready for the next day-- while they sleep.

Somehow, we've learned that the job must be done right, and we're the only ones who can do the job that way. Somehow, we've agreed to take on the responsibility for the success or failure of every dream our family (even our society) has-- without including our dreams on the list. We take the leftovers. We take the hand-me-down computer. We don't ask for someone to do their share of the chores-- we ask them to help us out a little with the chores we do. We make the kids' lunch and work a 60 hour week. We scrimp and save our pennies so someone else can have their heart's desire. Someone who already spent their pennies on something frivolous and fun.

I don't mean to dishonor our sacrifices, and I know this isn't everyone's reality. I actually hold a great respect for the importance of compassion, of love. But that's just it. Compassion, Love, long-term planning, Sharing and Giving are IMPORTANT, and WORTHY OF RESPECT. And another thing I've learned-- from my own life and from watching those I love-- is that if we continue to give and give without ever replenishing ourselves, we burn out, and we eventually have nothing left to give to anyone.

So-- please-- make a difference in your own quality of life, long-term. Like ten minutes of Yoga before breakfast, or ten minutes of solitude before bed. Now that I've learned how to find the time, I am determined not to lose it again. I want to enjoy my life. I want to experience abundance so that I can share it whole-heartedly, without running dry. I want to honor the Goddess by honoring myself, and the women around me. I'm worth it. She's worth it. You're worth it. Slow down, and give yourself time to recharge.

I want to be my best self in this lifetime, and that means loving myself just as much as I love everyone else. That means it's okay to put my own needs first. To ensure that I have the strength and endurance to be there when others need me. It's okay to teach by my example that compassion and respect belong to everyone, not just an exclusive few who feel they have the right to receive it.

So... What will you find time for today?... what about tomorrow?

Cows and Yearlings

Well, I'm doing it. I'm finally starting to write down some of the stories I remember from my time at Wgest Pgoint. And I'm writing some from being an Agrmy wife, too-- and probably another bunch about divorce and what came after, at least for me. I realized that I always think of these as individual stories, not as one long saga... so maybe instead of my past fizzled attempt to write A BOOK, (remember "the girlfriend's guide to Wgest Pgoint" from about five years ago?) I can just write each story as it occurs to me, and then put them in groups. And maybe it's better that my memories aren't all that accurate after all this time-- because it's a collection of MY MEMORIES, and so it's okay if it isn't a perfect record of the exact rules. Makes it that much easier to agree with any Mgilitary critic who claims gross inaccuracies, you know?

This morning I wrote about Ring Weekend. It was on my mind when I woke up for some reason. I find myself hoping that writing it out will also help me move away from those experiences a bit more. Since I realized that I had more information than 99% of the girlfriends around me at the time, I've been burdened by this sort of moral obligation to explain things to them. To make it clear what they can expect, and to expose what's really going on under the shiny surface of that little enclave on the Hudson.

After realizing how few wives understand what they are committing to when they marry into the Mgilitary, I've felt a similar sense of responsibility there. It isn't fair to the wife or to the soldier if she's expecting someone else to take care of her for the rest of her life when she marries a well-filled uniform. I also feel that anyone who is still related to the mgilitary can't (for the sake of her husband's career, among other things) tell the true story of her experiences, and those who've gotten away from it don't usually want to remember.

Similarly, it was recently pointed out to me that there are a lot of aspects of divorce that people don't really talk about, and that it's helpful to know. Divorce is a horrible experience for the vast majority. I think that's actually fairly appropriate. But I also think that there are ways to make it more manageable, and that it'd be nice if someone could tell you what to expect outside of the legalities. Although I recognize that each person's experience is unique, I think it'd be helpful to ME, if to no one else, to tell about my experience. And maybe, if I'm lucky, it'll make some other person's life a little easier, too.

Life is a process. I've certainly been in on some very intense scenarios. And being a student who really likes to observe and consider the social and human interactions around me, I may have noticed some patterns or stories that others do not. I may also be in a unique position of being able to talk about them clearly and without an ulterior motive, per se. We'll see.

As I said, it's a process.

Meh.

I just finished pulling myself out of a slump, and just started actually being productive and proactive in my life again (I only slumped for about a week, but I still felt guilty about it)...
WHEN SUDDENLY

I found out that the one place I'd got an inside track for getting hired hadn't even selected me to go on to the final round of interviews, and has in fact hired someone else to fill the position at this time. (the one in Minnesota) Now, logically, I know I shouldn't expect to get hired for the first job I apply to, and I know I should view the one interview I did have with this University as "practice"... but man, Shoulds SUCK, and so did that bit of news this morning. It would be very easy to drown in a sea of shoulds without even realizing it was the weight of your own inner critic that made your boat unseaworthy in storms.

I'm what you'd call "proactive." So sitting here on my hands, watching life slip by, and feeling useless and pathetic and unemployed-- it's hard on my self-esteem. And my inner critic is having a field day. I know I'm smart. I know I'm intelligent, too. (not the same thing, really)--
and I know I have a lot to offer my future employers, and my future clients/patrons. I just don't know if I'll ever get the opportunity to prove it.

In the meantime, anybody have suggestions for good places 'round here'bouts to advertise my availability as a life coach and tarot reader? 'Cause, man, I could use some positive personal reinforcement in my personal abilities and in my pocket book. I don't even want to curl up and hide from the world anymore-- I want to go out and stranghle it. Or at least go out and prove that all the hard work I've put into turning my life around and starting over and getting my MLS and overcoming all those damn obstacles in the last three years-- was WORTH THE EFFORT, dammit!

And so I say again--
Meh.

Soggy

Whatever else is or is not going on, I usually manage to keep busy. Martha Stewart busy. Like, I've got so many irons in the fire that there doesn't seem to be any room left for the logs. That kind of busy. So right now, even though I'm basically unemployed and tending toward barely contained panic about the fact that I STILL HAVE NOT RECEIVED JOB OFFERS (or even second round interviews) from any university libraries-- AND I TURNED DOWN THE ONE JOB OFFER I DID GET (because it wasn't a university library)... I'm not really finding any of what I'd call "free time" to apply for any MORE jobs. This is a problem.

So I quit my short-term "help someone out and get paid, but don't have to take it too seriously" job because it was taking over three days a week and Sundays. And I bid my local library a fond adieu for a few weeks because I was with them on the other two days of the week. I had a week left of those commitments (I like to give plenty of warning)... when my friend's life took a left turn, and she suddenly needed some serious levels of support. And I'm really glad I have the time to give it-- I just wish I wasn't stumbling around so much in the process. I feel like I'm taking more of her time, and offering no relief except moral support or something... but maybe I'll get more efficient, and maybe that's all she needed from me in the first place.

Hold on, my cat is trying to knock over the lamp again...

And I'm going to have this booth at this festival-- THIS WEEKEND... which has taken more time to prepare for than I'd realized, and which I'm really excited about... but it still takes time. And my dad's birthday was this month, so I went and visited my folks for a few days-- which was fun, and I rediscovered the joys of making baskets with my mom and all... but no jobs were applied for in the process. Maybe I just need to win the lottery so I can continue to go from friend to friend and from place to place, sewing good intentions and running the occasional helpful errand... and still be able to pay off my credit cards from college.

Or, maybe I just need to shore up my patience and my hopeful outlook once again, and MAKE TIME to apply for more library jobs in the near future. Maybe I should just grab my calendar right now, and budget one day a week as "Get-R-Done Day"... hang on, my calendar is in the other room...

Well, "other room" is a relative term. I'm lucky to have the space I have, and it's pleasant enough, though I miss having access to direct sunlight... it's just that I've probably got less than 300sf of living space here, and most of it is filled with someone else's things. And after a while, one begins to miss having a space that is truly "her own." And yet, if I didn't have this space, I'd be in real trouble. And I love the people who have lent it to me. I know they miss having the use of the space I currently occupy, and they went out of their way to make it usable while I'm here. It's a common situation, I think, to experience multiple emotions relating to a single reality-- and to be slightly overwhelmed by the complexity of feeling that such a simple event can spark. Another great example would have been the evening I was offered the public library job, and I turned it down.

Sometimes, I still wonder if I did the right thing. If I'd accepted, I'd be employed right now. And it was a good situation, with lots of opportunities for training, innovation, and outreach. The very things I want to be doing. Instead, I chose to bet that an even better fit was waiting for me, just around the corner. That I'd have other opportunities with situations that better fit my personal desires at this point. And so I wait. And wonder if my lack of confidence feeds my lack of realization of those desires, or if the lack of action on the "better job search front" feeds my flagging confidence in my previous choice.

I see the economy nosing down, I see that in a year or a few years, anyone who is still employed will be lucky, and that our nation will have to go through some truly painful changes in order to survive at all... and I wonder if I just threw away my best bet at a secure future. But I also think that universities and colleges are more likely to continue having funding than public libraries, and there is a spark inside me that refuses to be snuffed by circumstance. If I look closely enough at that little flame, I know that I do believe I'll get a good job offer, and that I'll make it through. That I'll eventually look back and realize that this was another opportunity-- a gift from the universe to further my learning and deepen my connection with both suffering and with joy. But right now, I feel soggy.

That sensation of being damp down to my underwear, cold, uncomfortable, and unrealized. Well, I guess that means its the perfect time for a hot shower, a hairdryer, and a project to complete before dinner. I never realized before how much my enjoyment of dancing in the rain depended on the sure knowledge that I had a warm home, a hot & healthy meal, and a change of clothes waiting for me at the end of the journey.

Coyote Howls

A howl is one thing-- but actually, the hunting BARK of a coyote raises a lot more hairs on the back of my neck. Especially when it is uttered from less than 50 feet away, in the dead of night, and followed by complete silence. Was that for me?? Is the first rational thought that comes to mind. And then you realize-- I'm inside the house. That probably means I'm safe from wild animals. I've never before been quite so aware of how thin a wall is-- nor of how insignificant a barrier a pane of glass can be.

Ahh, Nature!
... to be honest, I don't think most of us would last two nights if we were really stuck out in it!

Somehow, I Managed

About the crock pot...

Somehow, I managed to ruin a rather large and expensive crock pot stew. It was basically a bunch of fresh vegetables, a grain, some mushrooms, chicken broth, water, salt, and a bit of garlic. It tastes... bad. Bitter, and somewhat like warm moldy bread smells. If you ever have such a thing in your kitchen. Happens to me all the time.

... uhh... totally distracted by my cat. She is on top of a box (an empty box) that has a handle hole in the top, and puts her a good two feet closer to the dangling branch of one of my hanging plants. She has so far nearly biffed it by trying to reach up to the plant and play with it, by leaning WAAAAAY over the edge of the empty box to observe her domain from this new height, and by reaching one paw as far down INTO THE BOX (through the handle hole) as she possibly could, just to see what she ran into. Last but not least, she just now nearly biffed it by jumping down off the top of the two-foot-tall-but-one-foot-wide empty box. And she loved every little trouble-making minute of it.

I think I need more glee in my life. That sort of "I know I probably shouldn't be doing this but it is SO MUCH FUN!" gleeful feeling, mixed with a healthy dose of dangerous curiosity.
...sigh...
Yet again, I find myself envious of my cat.

Anyway, the lesson I'd like to share with any other hopeless cookers out there is to BELIEVE THE LABEL on the dried shitaki mushrooms. You want to soak them in water for at least 30 minutes, and then put them into DIFFERENT WATER to cook. And, I also suggest putting them in at the very end of the crock pot cycle, with your herbs. Also, if you try to use barley as your grain, put in something really sweet like ginger or sweet potato or something to help things along. And, most important of all, don't put in more than ONE ingredient you don't usually cook with per crock pot challenge. Or follow a tried and true recipe-- someone else's recipe.

This is actually the secret behind my insistence on cooking very simple foods with only a few ingredients. Fewer things can go horribly wrong. Including my spelling of the word "rescipee."

And if I ever catch the guy writing the script for this, I'm inviting him over for one of my "tasty" home-cooked meals, and I'm going to force him to eat seconds. In fact, there are actually two more helpings of this horrible goo sitting in my fridge right now. And I have no idea what to do with them.

Moving On

I've decided that Christmas Cards this year are a total wash. Just not on my top ten priorities list, and not likely to get there before February. Sigh. So I guess I'm saving myself some money for next year, right? Except next year, I had hoped to have time to MAKE my cards again, thus justifying some small portion of the ridiculous money I spent on stamps, paper, etc between 2004-2006. Oh, well. I think I really spent that money because it meant I could spent those four hours a month with a really cool group of non-military women. And for that, it was TOTALLY worth every penny.

In other news, I LOVE my new car. I haven't tabulated the gas mileage yet, but the fact that I was able to drive for something like five hours straight without going below 1/4 tank? Happy. I also find that I like being able to close the trunk, and know nobody can see all the crap I've stored there. And the 6 CD-changer is nice. And the built-in Blue Tooth capability. That's a new one on me. Built-in wireless phoning. On my steering wheel. But now that I've programmed in the voice-recognized phone numbers I'm most likely to call in heavy traffic (usually because that means I'm STUCK in heavy traffic, and going to be late), I think I'm a convert.

Especially with my recent commitment to SERIOUSLY SAFE DRIVING. SERIOUSLY. I wasn't sure I'd be okay talking on the phone (or any other not-so-safe thing you always end up doing in the car) ever again after the accident, but... well... Being able to push a single button and start talking to the air, and then push another single button and be disconnected-- I feel fairly safe with that system.

Now all I need is a frog. Bumper sticker. For my car. To replace the one I lost with the CR-V. And I have to decide whether or not it'd be a good thing to put my "I heart herbs!" bumper sticker on my car. Especially since I do buy dried herbs like lavender and comfrey and peppermint and Nettle from a local herbalist on a fairly regular basis... It's like the time a friend found my stash of unsweetened finely-grated coconut in the glove compartment. A nice fine white powdery blob of COCONUT in a little plastic baggie... Yeah.

Anyway, Did I tell you I found three different emergency medical kits in the CR-V when I cleaned it out? I threw out the moldy one (yuck!), and put the best of the remaining two into the new vehicle. Once I get my little sample carpet square back in the trunk (for if I get stuck on ice or in snow-- before that I had clumping cat litter. I hadn't really thought that one thru...), I'll be good to go. After all, it IS winter.

I've agreed to nanny through January. I'm determined to actually do the 2-3 posts a week I was originally hired to do for LJ online. I've got a short web-design job lined up for an aunt of mine, and I'm moving to a new temporary apartment until I get a full time job, or until it stops being a good place for me to be. I'm also trying to cut my belongings (clothing, books, furniture, archives, sundry craft supplies, and paper-saving tendencies) down by about 1/3 before I move. Somehow, being done with school has not had the "time-suddenly-available" effect on my life that I'd hoped for.

And somewhere in all this, I still do need to be applying for actual LIBRARIAN JOBS. I'm really determined that my next real job will pay more than $10 an hour. Like, maybe, $20-30 an hour instead. After all, I have a terminal master's degree now. And I'm going to be paying for it for a long time. Loooooooooooonnnngggggggg Tiiiiiimmmmmmeee

Yes.Terminally.

Beyond that, I feel rather silly, and thought I'd share the laugh with you-- at myself, as usual. See, I was starting to realize that I don't want too much furniture that I can't lift (or at least shove back and forth) by myself. And I want to give back to people all the stuff they've been so great about loaning me over the last two years. So I'm planning to return the borrowed, customized, 300 lb TV to my really awesome friend H. And with that gone, I started to wonder how I'd watch my "relax and vegetate" movies... so I thought about getting a new cheap TV (they don't exist), or maybe just a computer screen (totally possible, but actually MORE expensive), and then I remembered that some guy at a party said it was cheaper for him to just get a projector and project his movies on the wall... (yeah, right)... So I called an expert. Well, actually, I called the expert's wife. (Hi James!) And he clarified that it is VERY expensive to buy a computer screen with normal DVD-player hookups in it. But, he agreed with his wife that I could probably watch my DVDs on MY EXISTING COMPUTER for quite a few months before I wore out the DVD/CD drive. Oh.

Right. I HAVE a computer that can play movies. Duh.
Thank goodness I talked to a few sensible people before I went and broke my budget. Again. And actually, having tested it, my computer has better resolution and clearer sound than the really really BIG TV that I'm borrowing. And I can lift it, all by myself. So now I'm wondering if they don't make external computer DVD-reading hard drives for cheap... so I can keep from wearing out the one inside my computer. And I'm not quite sure what to do with my perfectly good fairly new DVD player. Also, I realize that I'm going to miss the personalized cup-holder in the old TV. Somewhat.

Coincidentally

I've been reading this book called Your Money or Your Life, by Joe Dominguez and Vicki Robin. A good friend gave it to me about five or six years ago, and I'm finally mature enough to read it. (Hi, L!) The book talks about how a budget is a lot like a diet. You deprive yourself and skimp, and it works- for a month or maybe two. Then you feel you've been so good-- you can relax. And you go right back to your old spending habits. So you start a new budget. Hmmm.... Sounds familiar....

The book was written in the 1980's, from what I can tell, or at least-- a lot of their examples come from that time. So in some ways, I'm trying to maintain a current perspective while taking in the intended lesson of some of the financial examples cited in the book. Like the time that Cindy Soandso realized she was buying a pair of shoes a week and not wearing them. And on her budget, you can see she was also paying $200 in rent per month. Yeah, right. Or how this nice military man and his wife wanted a big family and a home in the country-- and on a budget of less than $30,000 a year, they saved up $45,000 in seven years, while having four children and paying off $25,000 in debts. So I figure now, that would mean an income of around $45,000 a year, and only two children. I mean, really. If I try to believe that $30,000 can support a family of six plus a 20% savings plan for a YEAR in 2007-- I will probably stop reading this book.

The book isn't about setting yet another budget. It's actually about calculating how much time/energy you spend on your current life style, and being accountable to your dreams/goals/values for the way that energy/time is spent. It's about changing your relationship with money and with the time you spend earning it. Dominguez and Robin say that all you need is enough-- and just a little bit extra. The hard part is that our culture teaches us to have endless appetites for buying. The phrase "more is better" simply means that you'll never have enough to be happy. Once you attain it, you want something else-- something more. Because more is better.

Instead, pay attention, and notice what is enough. What is important to you in your life? Do you need another foodiddler to reach that goal or have that experience you really care about? Probably not. One of my favorite tools in the book so far is the Purpose-in-Life Test. Originally formulated by Viktor Frankl, a Nazi death camp survivor, this test helps you determine if you have a strong sense of life-purpose or meaning, and if you have found ways to live your life according to that awareness.

One of my favorite questions on the test was this: "Facing my daily tasks is: a source of pleasure and satisfaction/ neutral/ a painful and boring experience." It really made me stop and ask myself why I spend so much time not enjoying my life. Frankl's book is called, Man's Search for Meaning, just in case you want to check it out. I haven't yet. I'm too busy planning world domination on $50 a week. And besides, I (just barely) have a clear sense of purpose, according to the test results. I'll take that and run with it!

I stopped about half-way through the book to go get my weekly groceries. Step One: record all expenditures to the penny for a month. I filled my water jugs. ($1.40) I got gas. ($34.79) I stopped at a local used book store for a book my mom wants, and found a great little expenditure recording notebook. ($12.37) Coincidence #1: the book she wants is on sale this week. I realized I was supposed to meet my cousin at 3pm to pick up her Christmas Gift to me (time-sensitive), so I rushed over there.

So far, I was very cheerful, optimistic, not too hungry to food shop, totally pleased to get out of the multi-everything store with JUST WATER, and working hard to remember and record everything I spent. Then I drove through downtown in nearly rush hour traffic-- on a SATURDAY, and got pretty grumpy. I also got hungry and thirsty. Bad combo. Cousin's phone was busy so I knew she'd be in. She wasn't in. I tried to find a corner of downtown to hang out in for five minutes in hopes that she'd be back, but everywhere I went, SOMEONE WAS BEHIND ME trying to drive forward. I headed back to Trader Joe's. In nearly rush hour traffic. My cousin called about 20 minutes later. She's home now, where am I? Coincidence #2: She ran to the bank for 10 minutes, and we JUST MISSED EACH OTHER!!!

I hang up and turn into the parking lot of TJ's. Everyone is at TJ's today. Everyone. And they brought their friends along too. In separate cars. Even my brother was there. Seriously. We drove past each other in search of parking. (Coincidence #3.) I haven't seen my brother in a couple of months. So we shopped together (enlightening to say the least-- $19.77 for my groceries this week! Helps that Thanksgiving is at someone else's place.) and then headed out to a late lunch together. Coincidence #4: We actually both had time to catch up right then, and we'd both missed lunch! That was pretty darn cool.

So today I started the process toward financial intelligence. To the tune of $68.33. That's probably about a hundred dollars less than I spent last Saturday. Coincidentally, today was also the day I received my ex's lump-sum payment (less than $5,000) and legal paperwork ending our alimony arrangement about six months early. Talk about financial freedom! It's not that I can afford to do anything with this money but continue hoarding it for car payments over the next six months... it's that I don't have to hope he sends the money, or wait for it to arrive, or wonder if he'll stop paying in May or June, or... Nope. My life, and the time I spend in it, is mine to delineate. And I just regained control of my budget, too.

Coincidence? I think NOT!