Yesterday I cleaned out my old car, and said good-bye. I really wished I had my camera with me so I could take some memory pictures, but I didn't have it. Don't know if you ever forget what a crashed vehicle looks like once you crawl out of it anyway, really. It was harder than I expected to say goodbye.
There was a lot more stuff in my car than I expected, too. And I kept remembering just one more little hidden pocket of STUFF that needed to be cleaned out before I was really done. I realized as I was driving away that I've had that particular vehicle during the toughest and longest transition of my life. That it was my go-to resource during that time period. That car always worked. Whatever I needed always fit into it. I could be alone when I drove it, and anything I put inside would still be there when I came back. That car always got me where I was going, and it didn't aggravate my old injuries on the way. I always felt safe in it, and I used it to escape-- often.
I first purchased her while my then-husband was deployed in Iraq. I got tired of being stuck at home every time it snowed, so my new car had AWD among the other things it gave me. I also bought it at a time when I was finally coming to the realization that my marriage was never going to get better, and that once he came home safely, I was probably going to say goodbye. For both our sakes. I had a lot of emotional conversations with friends while driving her, since I couldn't talk on the phone much when my then-husband was home. Some of those same friends packed her to the hilt-- twice-- during the three hours I had to move out of my soon-to-be-ex's apartment when the time finally came to go.
She moved me from there to a friend's spare room, from there to another state, and into three different apartments in the year after my marriage ended. I was sitting in the driver's seat when I got my acceptance letter for the MLS program I wanted, and I drove her to that horrid job at the office for the criminally insane. After that, I drove her back and forth (an hour each way) to my subsequent nanny job-- for a year while I finished school.
The strange, poetic, full-circle part of it all is that my ex just made his final alimony payment ever last month, and I just graduated from school so I can have a career and support myself independently this month... I'm finally starting the next phase of my life. The transition from married to me is basically over. Finally. My car helped me through the whole get-independent process, start to finish. And within a few days of that process ending, my get-through-it car ended, too.
I guess it's a graduation of sorts. No more crutches. No more dependencies and old habits. No more reminders of my past life. No more reliable blue car with the "not interested" bumper sticker and the big red frog on the back. That still hurts to think about, though. No more Army stickers and pit-bull nose-prints in the windows. No more maps for all the military towns we lived in, either. No more reminders of all the things I didn't accomplish during my marriage.
Maybe this isn't dread in my tummy. ...maybe it's PMS... Or maybe it's just an empty spot where the past used to be. You never know. PMS can do some pretty drastic things to your tummy, let me tell you! Maybe I just need to give myself time to grieve the dreams and crutches (and the car) that I lost-- and remember all the great hopes and possibilities and personal goals I've replaced them with. My life now is so much better and brighter than I could ever have imagined it to be three or four years ago-- back when my transition to independence started.
I have friends who love my art, and don't care who I talk to on the phone. I have friends (well, one, anyway) who get as excited as I do over Pirate Music, and nobody in my new life uses my quirks as an excuse to put me down. I have friends to laugh with, friends to cry with, and I have places in my life where it's okay to enjoy being alone. I can watch Banger Sisters for the 37th time, and nobody comments on how well Goldie Hawn's boobs have held up over the years. Nobody gets mad at me for wanting to see a movie that many times, plus one more. Nobody gets bored half-way through and leaves to go play video games instead of cuddling with me on the sofa.
I can put yeast on my popcorn, and ice cream in the freezer. I can eat nacho chips and baked garlic on toast, with brie and basil on the side. I can sing silly children's songs and stand on one foot while I do the dishes (old habit, don't ask). I can get the urge to blog about the dread in my tummy at midnight, and jump out of bed to do it, knowing I'm not going to be waken at 4am to help find somebody else's special bullet-proof glasses. And two matching boot-top twisties. And to frantically sew the new patches on the other side of their only clean BDU shirt-- at JUST THE RIGHT ANGLE-- before my alarm goes off at 7am-- because he was too lazy to do it himself the night before.
I don't feel guilty every time I park under the covered parking, and every time I go out to lunch with a friend. Nobody makes me feel stupid for wanting safety bars in the windows and that extra lock mechanism on the front door. Nobody tells me what to wear (tho I'm really glad some of my friends are willing to give me opinions when I ask-- I admit to needing help from time to time), and I actually like coming home at night. To my home.
It's a good life. And very different from the one I used to live. With all the distance driving I do, and the limited amount of buying big stuff, no dog, and not too many friends without cars these days either-- the things I need in a vehicle have changed. I guess it makes sense that the vehicle itself might change, too. Now, I just have to get used to driving it. Darn.
Sunday, December 23
What To
I don't know what to think. Ever since ... well, no. Before that. At some point on my way home from Mexico, I started to have this niggling feeling of dread. And then the car accident happened. I am so glad nobody was hurt! My insurance company was just awesome about it all, too.
I had a rental, I had a second interview for a job I wanted, I found out I didn't get the job. I found out my car really IS totalled, and I switched to an easier-to-drive rental. I actually kept the Behemoth longer than necessary because of the continuing feeling of dread in the pit of my tummy. If you're going to worry about bad things happening, you might as well be driving a cross between a tank and a toaster oven when they do. Technically, I think it was a Dodge Nitro.
I discovered that I had made the smart choice to pay a one-time fee for auto-loan-coverage on my old vehicle. That means that if your car is totalled (like mine), and it probably isn't worth what you still owe on the auto loan (like mine), your insurance pays the full loan amount regardless. I'll definitely be getting THAT coverage again. Then I got a good new auto loan, and started shopping around for a good new vehicle to drive. My parents even decided to help me with a down payment as a graduate-from-grad-school gift. No strings. Very cool of them!
VERY!
Today, I found an awesome new car. I got it for a decent price, and I drove it home with no problems. So WHY do I still have this feeling of dread in my tummy, and WHY is it getting WORSE?!
Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. Tomorrow I finally get to talk to a real person about my new vehicle and my new loan, etc. Tomorrow I'm also going to call and make sure my old loan really has been taken care of at this point. Tomorrow I go visit my folks. Tomorrow I have GOT to figure out a good gift for my aunt. I still can't believe we're two days out from Christmas. In Mexico, it's 85* and sunny for grinch's sake!
I'm suddenly remembering that although I wrote a new will, and my two friends, SM and DM agreed to be my new medical decision-makers, well... I still haven't gotten the sucker signed and sealed. It's sitting in a folder on the desk top of my computer... waiting.
I even found time to apply for one of the Youth Librarian Substitute slots that just came open in a city near me. It would be a great short-term solution to my job crisis if it works out. I know several people who are actually supporting themselves as librarian substitutes right now.
So in the meantime... if you have any idea what I'm so worried about-- let me know, okay? I'd like to deal with it and move on. It's almost Christmas, and I have things to do, people to hug, a cat to pet, and a car to drive. My life is pretty darn amazing. I'd like to be enjoying it. It's a good life. Really.
I mean-- I lived. I got away with some stiff muscles and a small bruise on my forehead. I don't owe thousands of dollars on a vehicle I no longer own. And I actually qualified for another car loan after that. With no job, no income, and no collateral.
I've got a place to stay with people I like. I've got a trip planned to visit a good friend and troll for jobs in the big leagues mid-January. I've got food in the fridge (I should really clean out the fridge!!), clean laundry, and a solid internet connection.
Like I said-- Life is good.
I'd like to start enjoying it now.
kthxbai
I had a rental, I had a second interview for a job I wanted, I found out I didn't get the job. I found out my car really IS totalled, and I switched to an easier-to-drive rental. I actually kept the Behemoth longer than necessary because of the continuing feeling of dread in the pit of my tummy. If you're going to worry about bad things happening, you might as well be driving a cross between a tank and a toaster oven when they do. Technically, I think it was a Dodge Nitro.
I discovered that I had made the smart choice to pay a one-time fee for auto-loan-coverage on my old vehicle. That means that if your car is totalled (like mine), and it probably isn't worth what you still owe on the auto loan (like mine), your insurance pays the full loan amount regardless. I'll definitely be getting THAT coverage again. Then I got a good new auto loan, and started shopping around for a good new vehicle to drive. My parents even decided to help me with a down payment as a graduate-from-grad-school gift. No strings. Very cool of them!
VERY!
Today, I found an awesome new car. I got it for a decent price, and I drove it home with no problems. So WHY do I still have this feeling of dread in my tummy, and WHY is it getting WORSE?!
Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. Tomorrow I finally get to talk to a real person about my new vehicle and my new loan, etc. Tomorrow I'm also going to call and make sure my old loan really has been taken care of at this point. Tomorrow I go visit my folks. Tomorrow I have GOT to figure out a good gift for my aunt. I still can't believe we're two days out from Christmas. In Mexico, it's 85* and sunny for grinch's sake!
I'm suddenly remembering that although I wrote a new will, and my two friends, SM and DM agreed to be my new medical decision-makers, well... I still haven't gotten the sucker signed and sealed. It's sitting in a folder on the desk top of my computer... waiting.
I even found time to apply for one of the Youth Librarian Substitute slots that just came open in a city near me. It would be a great short-term solution to my job crisis if it works out. I know several people who are actually supporting themselves as librarian substitutes right now.
So in the meantime... if you have any idea what I'm so worried about-- let me know, okay? I'd like to deal with it and move on. It's almost Christmas, and I have things to do, people to hug, a cat to pet, and a car to drive. My life is pretty darn amazing. I'd like to be enjoying it. It's a good life. Really.
I mean-- I lived. I got away with some stiff muscles and a small bruise on my forehead. I don't owe thousands of dollars on a vehicle I no longer own. And I actually qualified for another car loan after that. With no job, no income, and no collateral.
I've got a place to stay with people I like. I've got a trip planned to visit a good friend and troll for jobs in the big leagues mid-January. I've got food in the fridge (I should really clean out the fridge!!), clean laundry, and a solid internet connection.
Like I said-- Life is good.
I'd like to start enjoying it now.
kthxbai
Monday, December 17
Crashing
There has been a lot of crashing in my life lately.
Crashing into each wave on the hour-long boat ride from Puerto Vallarta to Yelapa Mexico...
Crashing waves in Yelapa, Mexico...
The folks who crashed the wedding party in Yelapa, Mexico...
The wedding-crasher who had way too much to drink and then crashed in Yelapa, Mexico...
Crashing because I was SO DAGM TIRED when I got home from Yelapa, Mexico...
And my least favorite,
The car crash that happened to me this morning, in the USA, on my way to work the morning after I got home from Yelapa, Mexico.
So... what's new with you?
Okay okay-- I don't have it in me to type up all the great stories from my trip to Mexico right now, but I do want to say that I have never appreciated the very LOUD noise of the pounding surf as much as I did on Saturday Night. And I was also grateful for the mosquito netting around the bed. Not only did it keep all the crawly-biteys out, but it kept me from having a full frontal view of our naked guest after he and my roomie got out of the shower. Shower being a loose term, in this particular instance. In Yelapa, the showers are... rustic... and you get to share them with the local fauna.
Also on that subject, I have a new job title to add to my resume. I became the official lizard-wrangler at the wedding, thus allowing the bride to use the "bathroom" (again, a loose term in Yelapa) prior to the wedding ceremony. I'll have you know that no animals (or reptiles) were injured during my stay. They all went out the front door under their own power. I tell you, I am a master lizard-wrangler.
And my car accident? Well... not happy. Hopefully, I'll get a free rental for a few days. Hopefully, it only takes a few days to fix my car. Hopefully, they install an all-way stop at that dagmn intersection sooner than later. The officer did say, though, that this accident had less residual car-bits to clean up than most accidents at that intersection do. Yay. Nobody was hurt in any visible fashion. That's the good news.
Crashing into each wave on the hour-long boat ride from Puerto Vallarta to Yelapa Mexico...
Crashing waves in Yelapa, Mexico...
The folks who crashed the wedding party in Yelapa, Mexico...
The wedding-crasher who had way too much to drink and then crashed in Yelapa, Mexico...
Crashing because I was SO DAGM TIRED when I got home from Yelapa, Mexico...
And my least favorite,
The car crash that happened to me this morning, in the USA, on my way to work the morning after I got home from Yelapa, Mexico.
So... what's new with you?
Okay okay-- I don't have it in me to type up all the great stories from my trip to Mexico right now, but I do want to say that I have never appreciated the very LOUD noise of the pounding surf as much as I did on Saturday Night. And I was also grateful for the mosquito netting around the bed. Not only did it keep all the crawly-biteys out, but it kept me from having a full frontal view of our naked guest after he and my roomie got out of the shower. Shower being a loose term, in this particular instance. In Yelapa, the showers are... rustic... and you get to share them with the local fauna.
Also on that subject, I have a new job title to add to my resume. I became the official lizard-wrangler at the wedding, thus allowing the bride to use the "bathroom" (again, a loose term in Yelapa) prior to the wedding ceremony. I'll have you know that no animals (or reptiles) were injured during my stay. They all went out the front door under their own power. I tell you, I am a master lizard-wrangler.
And my car accident? Well... not happy. Hopefully, I'll get a free rental for a few days. Hopefully, it only takes a few days to fix my car. Hopefully, they install an all-way stop at that dagmn intersection sooner than later. The officer did say, though, that this accident had less residual car-bits to clean up than most accidents at that intersection do. Yay. Nobody was hurt in any visible fashion. That's the good news.
Wednesday, December 5
Dog Days of Winter
A snapshot of my day:
6am
Mrrrrt? ....Mrrrowwwrrr?
THUMP!
...Mrrrr?
6:45am
Something is staring at me. I can feel it, and it wakes me out of a dead and desperate last half-hour of sleep before the alarm goes off.
...oh. It's my cat. She wasn't sure if I was awake or asleep, so she came over to find out. Guess I'm awake now.
8:10am
Shgit! I turned off the alarm, and actually went back to sleep! With the cat!
9am
I call in to my internship to let them know I'm going to be late. This head cold is really slowing me down, and that extra hour of sleep didn't really help much. I can't call in to the library because it doesn't open until 10am. I email my supervisor. I take an expectorant because my ribs hurt from coughing, and this is supposed to help the coughs do their thing more easily.
10am
Yet another reason to demand truth in advertising. I have not stopped gut-wrenching coughing since I took the dagmn expectorant. I can't see straight to find my keys let alone drive to my internship. Guess I'll be later than I thought. (B-HH-HH-HH-CH-HH-*gasp .... cough-cough... BHHH-TOOOHHHH-HHHH-*gasp... blow nose, feel head pound, wait for next big coughing fit to-- BHH-TOOOHHHH-cough-HHHHH)... I think I just gave myself a nose bleed.
11am
Grab 2 skeins of yarn to return to store, along with receipt. Put cell phone in purse. Put on Volunteer Badge. Grab lunch leftovers. Grab warm coat. Grab list of Practicum Goals from start of semester. Grab cat as she slides out the door. Start driving to internship. Dog in road. Lean black dog with collar and mange. Dog looks both ways, crosses in front of me since I've stopped. Dog gets out of road, I drive on.
11:30am
I arrive at my internship. I finish up a few final projects for various librarians. I get some interview advice. I look over my original goals and see what really happened here...
12:30pm
I leave for another local library branch, where we are having our monthly Youth Services Meeting. I realize that I've forgotten my purse. At home.
3:30pm
My coughing is so bad again that I leave the meeting early. I decide to head home for cough medicine and my purse, and then jet back to the library for the last hour of my internship.
4:15pm
Traffic is bad, too. And there's another dog in the road. Same road. I stop for it. A dalmatian this time, also with a collar (but no mange). This dog is stupid, but nice. It trots down the road in front of me. It stays in my lane. It makes good time. I put on my blinkers and roll along behind it. Someone in a parking lot sees the dog. It's her dog. She comes across the road to get the dog. The dog lets itself get got. I start driving again, and I turn off my blinkers.
4:30pm
I'm not going to make it back for that last hour of my internship, I might as well stay home. (cough, hack, wheeze, moan) Oh, look. Here's my purse. Hanging from it's hook as usual. At home.
...Mrrow?
6am
Mrrrrt? ....Mrrrowwwrrr?
THUMP!
...Mrrrr?
6:45am
Something is staring at me. I can feel it, and it wakes me out of a dead and desperate last half-hour of sleep before the alarm goes off.
...oh. It's my cat. She wasn't sure if I was awake or asleep, so she came over to find out. Guess I'm awake now.
8:10am
Shgit! I turned off the alarm, and actually went back to sleep! With the cat!
9am
I call in to my internship to let them know I'm going to be late. This head cold is really slowing me down, and that extra hour of sleep didn't really help much. I can't call in to the library because it doesn't open until 10am. I email my supervisor. I take an expectorant because my ribs hurt from coughing, and this is supposed to help the coughs do their thing more easily.
10am
Yet another reason to demand truth in advertising. I have not stopped gut-wrenching coughing since I took the dagmn expectorant. I can't see straight to find my keys let alone drive to my internship. Guess I'll be later than I thought. (B-HH-HH-HH-CH-HH-*gasp .... cough-cough... BHHH-TOOOHHHH-HHHH-*gasp... blow nose, feel head pound, wait for next big coughing fit to-- BHH-TOOOHHHH-cough-HHHHH)... I think I just gave myself a nose bleed.
11am
Grab 2 skeins of yarn to return to store, along with receipt. Put cell phone in purse. Put on Volunteer Badge. Grab lunch leftovers. Grab warm coat. Grab list of Practicum Goals from start of semester. Grab cat as she slides out the door. Start driving to internship. Dog in road. Lean black dog with collar and mange. Dog looks both ways, crosses in front of me since I've stopped. Dog gets out of road, I drive on.
11:30am
I arrive at my internship. I finish up a few final projects for various librarians. I get some interview advice. I look over my original goals and see what really happened here...
12:30pm
I leave for another local library branch, where we are having our monthly Youth Services Meeting. I realize that I've forgotten my purse. At home.
3:30pm
My coughing is so bad again that I leave the meeting early. I decide to head home for cough medicine and my purse, and then jet back to the library for the last hour of my internship.
4:15pm
Traffic is bad, too. And there's another dog in the road. Same road. I stop for it. A dalmatian this time, also with a collar (but no mange). This dog is stupid, but nice. It trots down the road in front of me. It stays in my lane. It makes good time. I put on my blinkers and roll along behind it. Someone in a parking lot sees the dog. It's her dog. She comes across the road to get the dog. The dog lets itself get got. I start driving again, and I turn off my blinkers.
4:30pm
I'm not going to make it back for that last hour of my internship, I might as well stay home. (cough, hack, wheeze, moan) Oh, look. Here's my purse. Hanging from it's hook as usual. At home.
...Mrrow?
Monday, December 3
CatTail #347
There I was, sitting at the dining table, reading my favorite comic book and blowing my nose because I have the head cold for hell...
when suddenly, and very quietly, from the direction of the bathroom...
ka-thud.
It sounded strangely like a cupboard door closing. But it's just me and Abbigale tonight. Waiiiit....
My cat must be trying to get into the bathroom cupboard. Again. So I yell a reprimand, and watch the hallway for any nonchalantly emerging kitties. But nobody appears. Sometimes she waits until I actually head toward her to stop whatever it is she KNOWS she isn't supposed to be doing... so I get up from the table.
No dice.
I went down the hall and into the bathroom, stepping carefully in case any guilty kitties tried to flee the crime scene, as they've been known to do. The bathroom was empty. Silent and empty. (Insert shark music here.) So, not being one to give up easily, I opened the first cupboard door I came to. And out popped a kitty. Pmmrrowt? A kitty who had obviously been trying to open the hinged side of the cupboard door for some time with no great success, but was too proud to meow for help.
I really hadn't thought there was ROOM on that particular shelf for a cat, but hey-- I've been wrong before. And she didn't actually knock anything over while she was in there. Actually, I used to barricade that cupboard doors shut with a half-gallon of vinegar, but people kept stubbing their toes and looking at me like I was crazy when they went into the bathroom... They obviously don't know about Abbigale the Intrepid Explorer. But I do. I have photographic evidence of her earlier excavations under the living room rug. And a permanent record of her fangs in the soft wax of a tapered candle that once got in her way. I've occasionally woken to the sound of wind chimes. Inside the house. And thus been called to duty as refiller of dangerously low cat food bowls at 4am-- more than once. So I know that just because I couldn't immediately see evidence of a crime didn't mean one hadn't been perpetrated. Oh no.
A ka-thud in this household, however quiet, is worth a thorough investigation, and probably a good laugh. If it isn't 4am. At 4am, it's only worth throwing a shoe in that general direction and hoping the covers are still warm when you get back under them.
I love my cat. Mostly.
when suddenly, and very quietly, from the direction of the bathroom...
ka-thud.
It sounded strangely like a cupboard door closing. But it's just me and Abbigale tonight. Waiiiit....
My cat must be trying to get into the bathroom cupboard. Again. So I yell a reprimand, and watch the hallway for any nonchalantly emerging kitties. But nobody appears. Sometimes she waits until I actually head toward her to stop whatever it is she KNOWS she isn't supposed to be doing... so I get up from the table.
No dice.
I went down the hall and into the bathroom, stepping carefully in case any guilty kitties tried to flee the crime scene, as they've been known to do. The bathroom was empty. Silent and empty. (Insert shark music here.) So, not being one to give up easily, I opened the first cupboard door I came to. And out popped a kitty. Pmmrrowt? A kitty who had obviously been trying to open the hinged side of the cupboard door for some time with no great success, but was too proud to meow for help.
I really hadn't thought there was ROOM on that particular shelf for a cat, but hey-- I've been wrong before. And she didn't actually knock anything over while she was in there. Actually, I used to barricade that cupboard doors shut with a half-gallon of vinegar, but people kept stubbing their toes and looking at me like I was crazy when they went into the bathroom... They obviously don't know about Abbigale the Intrepid Explorer. But I do. I have photographic evidence of her earlier excavations under the living room rug. And a permanent record of her fangs in the soft wax of a tapered candle that once got in her way. I've occasionally woken to the sound of wind chimes. Inside the house. And thus been called to duty as refiller of dangerously low cat food bowls at 4am-- more than once. So I know that just because I couldn't immediately see evidence of a crime didn't mean one hadn't been perpetrated. Oh no.
A ka-thud in this household, however quiet, is worth a thorough investigation, and probably a good laugh. If it isn't 4am. At 4am, it's only worth throwing a shoe in that general direction and hoping the covers are still warm when you get back under them.
I love my cat. Mostly.
The Phonebook Incident
So... One of my best friends is getting married soon, and we just had her bachelorette party. Excellent naughty cupcakes, let me tell you! Made me think back to some of the events surrounding my own wedding (back before the divorce and all)... Things that were crazy-making at the time, but are just so FUNNY now that so much time has passed!
Like when they forgot to deliver the wedding cake on the morning of, or when all the guys in the wedding party got drunk and shaved their heads the night before, or those hikers who got locked out of their car and wanted to make that phone call in the middle of the ceremony... Or the pie-eating incident...
The one that really made me laugh, though, was the memory of my leg waxing. Now, normally, a leg-wax is more of a scream than a laugh, but this was different. Well, not that different. I think there was actually a lot of screaming going on at the time. You see-- my mom made the appointment for me about two weeks before I got into town-- and didn't write it down anywhere. So there we were-- me and three frantic bride's maids-- trying to jog my mom's erstwhile memory, hunting for clues about who she might have called for my leg wax, and hoping I wasn't already late. I think we called two or three places in town and asked if they had an appointment for me on their books before I found the pencil dot next to one in particular in the phonebook she'd used.
That may have been the most stressful fifteen minutes of the whole weekend. Thank goodness she had remembered the time wrong, too! Man, is that a funny memory now. Adventures with mom. I tell you, there is nothing like laughing at old and now irrelevant memories to remind me how good it is to be single ... and independent.
... and how lucky I am to have such good friends to laugh and remember with...
Babe, I'm wishing you a beautiful wedding, to go with your beautiful relationship. One full of happy calm moments, and free from all those unexpected memories that are only funny a few years after the fact. Love you both.
oh, and by the way, thank you all for NOT telling me those stories until after the wedding was over and the guests had gone home. I'm not sure I could have handled the pressure as well as you all did, under the circumstances.
Like when they forgot to deliver the wedding cake on the morning of, or when all the guys in the wedding party got drunk and shaved their heads the night before, or those hikers who got locked out of their car and wanted to make that phone call in the middle of the ceremony... Or the pie-eating incident...
The one that really made me laugh, though, was the memory of my leg waxing. Now, normally, a leg-wax is more of a scream than a laugh, but this was different. Well, not that different. I think there was actually a lot of screaming going on at the time. You see-- my mom made the appointment for me about two weeks before I got into town-- and didn't write it down anywhere. So there we were-- me and three frantic bride's maids-- trying to jog my mom's erstwhile memory, hunting for clues about who she might have called for my leg wax, and hoping I wasn't already late. I think we called two or three places in town and asked if they had an appointment for me on their books before I found the pencil dot next to one in particular in the phonebook she'd used.
That may have been the most stressful fifteen minutes of the whole weekend. Thank goodness she had remembered the time wrong, too! Man, is that a funny memory now. Adventures with mom. I tell you, there is nothing like laughing at old and now irrelevant memories to remind me how good it is to be single ... and independent.
... and how lucky I am to have such good friends to laugh and remember with...
Babe, I'm wishing you a beautiful wedding, to go with your beautiful relationship. One full of happy calm moments, and free from all those unexpected memories that are only funny a few years after the fact. Love you both.
oh, and by the way, thank you all for NOT telling me those stories until after the wedding was over and the guests had gone home. I'm not sure I could have handled the pressure as well as you all did, under the circumstances.
Saturday, November 17
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!
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 $5,000) and legal paperwork ending our alimony arrangement about six months early. Talk about financial freedom! It's not that I can afford to do anything with this money but continue hoarding it for car payments over the next six months... it's that I don't have to hope he sends the money, or wait for it to arrive, or wonder if he'll stop paying in May or June, or... Nope. My life, and the time I spend in it, is mine to delineate. And I just regained control of my budget, too.
Coincidence? I think NOT!
Wednesday, November 7
BTW$
By the way... in case you were wondering...
Higher One knew I'd be checking my phone for messages at 2pm last Friday.
They knew I was expecting a confirmation of wire transfer to my existing bank account, by 2pm, PST. I wanted my money back. Again.
Do Not Mess With The Angry StudentNannyLibrarianLady.
I'm determined, educated, and I have more experience using my voice to Get Things Done than you even want to imagine.
...kthxbai.
I received a phone call from Higher One at 1:47pm. Wire transfer confirmed.
I checked with my bank on Sunday. (I love online banking.)
Wire transfer received.
...I think my blood pressure went down about fifty points....
I love my Mommy Voice!
Higher One knew I'd be checking my phone for messages at 2pm last Friday.
They knew I was expecting a confirmation of wire transfer to my existing bank account, by 2pm, PST. I wanted my money back. Again.
Do Not Mess With The Angry StudentNannyLibrarianLady.
I'm determined, educated, and I have more experience using my voice to Get Things Done than you even want to imagine.
...kthxbai.
I received a phone call from Higher One at 1:47pm. Wire transfer confirmed.
I checked with my bank on Sunday. (I love online banking.)
Wire transfer received.
...I think my blood pressure went down about fifty points....
I love my Mommy Voice!
Add to list...
- makes me laugh
- usefully intelligent
- socially capable
- makes me laugh
- can handle occasional silence
- has better taste in food than I do
- knows what he wants to be when he grows up
- has a job he enjoys
- knows how to take time off from work
- makes me laugh
- intelligent conversations
- can talk about emotions/relationships without flinching
- gives good back rubs
- shows an active interest in me (not just my body, either, but clearly likes that, too)
- likes my cat
- fairly healthy, mentally
- fairly healthy, physically
- has interests other than work
- pursues them
- doesn't share my interest in Things (I swear, I'm working on that one.)
- cares about his appearance (within reason)
- doesn't need to live in the middle of a five-acre forest to relax
- self-aware (not selfish, or at least, only sometimes)
- self-assured (not arrogant)
- can laugh at self (not too insecure, please)
- can laugh at me (occasionally)
- likes my stories
- laughs about the custom cup-holder in my TV
- does not need to be taken care of
- can handle being cared for sometimes anyway
- wants a partner/friend, not a mommy/trophy
- okay with corny movies
- okay with only watching the good parts
- been there, done that, has the T-shirt
- wants to do it my way sometimes
- makes his own plans, and invites me along, sometimes
(FYI, I actually did meet a guy like this once. I just don't think he ever asked me out on a date...)
mmmmm
I had a yummy visit from an old friend. I think it's been about two years since we were in the same state at the same times (oh, except the states of sleeplessness and denial. We visit those frequently.), so this was just awesome. Especially after I FINALLY found the right Starbucks in downtown to pick him (and his large suitcase full of wine) up at. Could there BE anymore road construction in downtown??!!1
Dessert first. St. Cupcake, anyone? With WAAAAAY too much frosting on top? Lunch at Lonely Planet (organic foods that somebody else cooked for reasonable prices, people!!!), with lots of napkins because apparently I have issues...
And then coffee was mentioned, and whadayaknow, there around the next corner was an AWESOME coffee place... well... I'll take his word for it, because coffee is not my friend. And on to the coolest delicatessen, where I finally found black french lentils. I've been looking for a while, you know. Apparently at TJ's, they're seasonal. WTF??
Then, a good gab and some old comic books at my place, and off to dinner. THAI! GOOD THAI! Level 4 spice Thai, and I LIKED it. Believe it or not, level 4 Thai food is less spicy to my mouth than black pepper. And MUCH more tasty. He got the seafood special, and dagmn was it good! Have I mentioned that I like Thai food?
Then back to my place for a movie and an early bedtime. I had work today, and well, he had to catch a plane. I hope it's not another two years between now and the next visit. That is just too darn long. But hey-- at least I know my futon works now! And, I've learned that glass is a liquid. Honestly. A highly intelligent person told me so. I guess I'm glad.
It means that the new "rock chip" in my windshield will just smooth back over, right? I mean... it's only the size of a salad plate. And... in a just world... the idiot who threw something off the overpass and onto my windshield this morning will eventually get that same karma back...
times three.
Dessert first. St. Cupcake, anyone? With WAAAAAY too much frosting on top? Lunch at Lonely Planet (organic foods that somebody else cooked for reasonable prices, people!!!), with lots of napkins because apparently I have issues...
And then coffee was mentioned, and whadayaknow, there around the next corner was an AWESOME coffee place... well... I'll take his word for it, because coffee is not my friend. And on to the coolest delicatessen, where I finally found black french lentils. I've been looking for a while, you know. Apparently at TJ's, they're seasonal. WTF??
Then, a good gab and some old comic books at my place, and off to dinner. THAI! GOOD THAI! Level 4 spice Thai, and I LIKED it. Believe it or not, level 4 Thai food is less spicy to my mouth than black pepper. And MUCH more tasty. He got the seafood special, and dagmn was it good! Have I mentioned that I like Thai food?
Then back to my place for a movie and an early bedtime. I had work today, and well, he had to catch a plane. I hope it's not another two years between now and the next visit. That is just too darn long. But hey-- at least I know my futon works now! And, I've learned that glass is a liquid. Honestly. A highly intelligent person told me so. I guess I'm glad.
It means that the new "rock chip" in my windshield will just smooth back over, right? I mean... it's only the size of a salad plate. And... in a just world... the idiot who threw something off the overpass and onto my windshield this morning will eventually get that same karma back...
times three.
Saturday, November 3
Certifiable
Ummm.... so... About two weeks ago, I took my water bottle out of the car and brought it in to wash. See, the lid is just one of those pop-up squirt kinds (reusable), and I was reasonably sure the dog had licked it. I'd had to leave him in the car alone for a while, and he ended up in the front seat, nosing through everything.
It's taken me until today to actually get around to cleaning it, however. And as I was waiting for the water to get hot, I realized... I don't have a dog. But, hey, the water was hot now, and the lid probably needed a good washing anyway, so I've washed it. And had a good laugh at how I probably confused one of my realistic dreams with reality again... sigh...
My next inclination was to call my friend, SLM, and share my insanity with someone who would laugh as hard as I did. But then I thought-- hey-- why not share it with EVERYONE?! And I'm rather glad I did it this way...
Because I remembered, as I was typing, that I'd taken the water bottle on a hiking trip with a friend, and her two dogs. And I left the water bottle in the front seat when we ate lunch after our hike, and the dogs did indeed jump into the front seat and nose through everything. Including the lid to my water bottle. It just didn't happen in my car.
I'm telling you, I need therapy.
...preferably massage...
It's taken me until today to actually get around to cleaning it, however. And as I was waiting for the water to get hot, I realized... I don't have a dog. But, hey, the water was hot now, and the lid probably needed a good washing anyway, so I've washed it. And had a good laugh at how I probably confused one of my realistic dreams with reality again... sigh...
My next inclination was to call my friend, SLM, and share my insanity with someone who would laugh as hard as I did. But then I thought-- hey-- why not share it with EVERYONE?! And I'm rather glad I did it this way...
Because I remembered, as I was typing, that I'd taken the water bottle on a hiking trip with a friend, and her two dogs. And I left the water bottle in the front seat when we ate lunch after our hike, and the dogs did indeed jump into the front seat and nose through everything. Including the lid to my water bottle. It just didn't happen in my car.
I'm telling you, I need therapy.
...preferably massage...
Friday, November 2
SHOW ME THE MONEY!
Well, it turns out that even after you FINALLY RECEIVE your reissued student loan check, and deposit it into your bank account even though they put the wrong last name on it, and the bank says there are no holds on the check and the money is now available... even then, the lender can make another mistake that means you STILL DON'T HAVE YOUR STUDENT LOAN MONEY FROM JULY!!!!
In this case, they refused to fund the check. So the bank readjusted my balance, and mailed the check back to me. The student loan folks tell me that the Federal Reserve accidentally sent out duplicates of some student loan checks, and although I haven't received the duplicate, my bank hasn't had a duplicate deposit, and the loan company knows all this-- they still refused to fund the check because this was a "duplicate presentment." (Although, I'm sure the govgernment are having no trouble charging me INTEREST on the money I don't have. To help me with basic living expenses while I'm in school. Have I mentioned that I graduate in six weeks?)
Let me tell you, Higher One received the business end of my Mommy Voice yesterday. They have a deadline. And a bank account number. And they will be calling me THIS MORNING with an update that SHOULD include confirmation of a wire transfer.
...third time a charm?
In this case, they refused to fund the check. So the bank readjusted my balance, and mailed the check back to me. The student loan folks tell me that the Federal Reserve accidentally sent out duplicates of some student loan checks, and although I haven't received the duplicate, my bank hasn't had a duplicate deposit, and the loan company knows all this-- they still refused to fund the check because this was a "duplicate presentment." (Although, I'm sure the govgernment are having no trouble charging me INTEREST on the money I don't have. To help me with basic living expenses while I'm in school. Have I mentioned that I graduate in six weeks?)
Let me tell you, Higher One received the business end of my Mommy Voice yesterday. They have a deadline. And a bank account number. And they will be calling me THIS MORNING with an update that SHOULD include confirmation of a wire transfer.
...third time a charm?
Monday, October 29
Crazy Aunt Purl Lives!!!
Okay, so this is post 104... Life happened again, what can I say?
Here, finally, are some photos and a short clip (don't worry, Laurie-- no incriminating evidence here!) from Laurie's recent book signing. Can I just tell you that I felt SO WRONG at this event because I didn't bring anything creative to do with yarn while we waited for things to get going?! Everybody knitted. Everybody. See those empty chairs? One of them is mine, and the others were soon filled with more women. Knitting.
Here is Laurie, answering a question about her back yard Zucchini Monster. We all laughed WAY more than you're imagining we did. She is even funnier in person than on her blog. Probably because there is no edit button in a public speaking event. Whoopsy! On the up side, it is amazing how at-home you can feel in such a public place, when you know that everyone there likes yarn and cats, too, and hey-- they're probably also divorced-- just like you.
I even took a very short video of her toward the beginning of the reading, when she was still settling in. SLM, this is for you. Thank you for forcing me to go in your place. THANK YOU!!
Here, finally, are some photos and a short clip (don't worry, Laurie-- no incriminating evidence here!) from Laurie's recent book signing. Can I just tell you that I felt SO WRONG at this event because I didn't bring anything creative to do with yarn while we waited for things to get going?! Everybody knitted. Everybody. See those empty chairs? One of them is mine, and the others were soon filled with more women. Knitting.
Here is Laurie, answering a question about her back yard Zucchini Monster. We all laughed WAY more than you're imagining we did. She is even funnier in person than on her blog. Probably because there is no edit button in a public speaking event. Whoopsy! On the up side, it is amazing how at-home you can feel in such a public place, when you know that everyone there likes yarn and cats, too, and hey-- they're probably also divorced-- just like you.
Pumpkin Party, Martha Stewart Style
It's almost Halloween. A time when the veil between the worlds gets thin, and Mystery is in the air. So is some fresh cold air, red and brown and yellow leaves, and lots of laughter.
Went to a pumpkin carving party at a friend's last night. Had a blast. It's the first time in several years that I've carved a pumpkin, and it turned out pretty cool. See?
.
Mine is, of course, the cat.
It was a fun and creative time, full of sharp pointy things and LOTS of pumpkin seeds.
Some crazy fool even tried to carve a Butternut Squash! Luckily, L had an apple corer with no slicing arms on it, so S eventually used that to get the squash meat out of the middle. Apparently, he has plans to set it on fire later this week. That's why the squash looks so scared. Foreshadowing. In the end, it turned out pretty well, as did the ghost dog on the right. What's creativity without a little extra effort anyway?
I tell you, every time I go to L's house, I learn something new about being a hostess. We've actually started teasing her about being a bit like Martha Stewart. This time, she made pumpkin pancakes, with applesauce (made from scratch, thank you) to go on top. She unobtrusively marketed her friends' (and her own) saleable skills, made everyone feel welcome, and enabled a few new friendships to form. I was even able to catch up with people I used to know, and share a little of my hard-won perspective on starting over after a difficult relationship with someone who appreciated the insight. Wow.
I tell you, Martha Stewart is just lucky that L has a day job!
Went to a pumpkin carving party at a friend's last night. Had a blast. It's the first time in several years that I've carved a pumpkin, and it turned out pretty cool. See?
.
Mine is, of course, the cat.
It was a fun and creative time, full of sharp pointy things and LOTS of pumpkin seeds.
Some crazy fool even tried to carve a Butternut Squash! Luckily, L had an apple corer with no slicing arms on it, so S eventually used that to get the squash meat out of the middle. Apparently, he has plans to set it on fire later this week. That's why the squash looks so scared. Foreshadowing. In the end, it turned out pretty well, as did the ghost dog on the right. What's creativity without a little extra effort anyway?
I tell you, every time I go to L's house, I learn something new about being a hostess. We've actually started teasing her about being a bit like Martha Stewart. This time, she made pumpkin pancakes, with applesauce (made from scratch, thank you) to go on top. She unobtrusively marketed her friends' (and her own) saleable skills, made everyone feel welcome, and enabled a few new friendships to form. I was even able to catch up with people I used to know, and share a little of my hard-won perspective on starting over after a difficult relationship with someone who appreciated the insight. Wow.
I tell you, Martha Stewart is just lucky that L has a day job!
Sunday, October 28
The Ex Factor
It confounds me just how many different ways there are for one person to fugck with another. While still saying things like "just because we're divorced doesn't mean we can't be friends and have a civil relationship," and "I don't think we need legal paperwork for that-- I trust you."
Yeah, the legal paperwork was for ME, you dolt! And I still haven't agreed to do it. Something he obviously didn't hear the first three or four times I said it. Which totally explains most of my marriage. The rest of my marriage can be explained by the fact that he thought $350 was enough money to bribe me into agreeing with his plan, no more information needed... And that even though THIS time I managed to walk away without (this used to be MY m-o) agreeing to anything, apologizing for anything, or getting angry over anything-- I still walked away feeling belittled, ungrateful, and confused about his true motives.
And I had this horrible urge to write him an email apologizing for representing my own interests in the conversation, and coaching him through his obvious confusion about what he's allowed to show concern for as a friend vs. a significant other. Because that is what I would have done while we were married. (He stopped mid-sentence to apologize for showing an interest in and concern for my well-being, and changed the subject. It's the only time I came into the conversation at all, and it was STILL all about him! Now that takes talent.) None of which I need or want to do, actually. No, ACTUALLY, I'm furious with myself-- and with him-- for having those desires in the first place.
Now, I've been doing a very good job of relinquishing responsibility for his well-being, and halting his continued attempts to mess with me. I've just been doing it slowly-- because I had to continue interacting with him for another six months regardless of my own desires. But this one interaction threw me back (temporarily) to where I was three years ago. Not cool.
I realized that by changing the rules on me, and making his little financial offer, he'd shaken my composure to such a degree that I had lost my footing and fallen into old (and familiar) habits. Thanks to my best friend's sage observations about truth in advertising, however, I'm no longer confused, rattled, or otherwise lost. I recognize just how far I HAVE advanced in my quest to be a healthy individual. (capital H, capital I) And I'm going to make my decision based on what's best for ME, with no remorse about representing my own interests, thank you very much.
Ahhh, yes-- the Ex factor.
After all-- I was married to it. (This is actually another one of those "We Know What That Means" quotes... but that is a story for another time.)
Yeah, the legal paperwork was for ME, you dolt! And I still haven't agreed to do it. Something he obviously didn't hear the first three or four times I said it. Which totally explains most of my marriage. The rest of my marriage can be explained by the fact that he thought $350 was enough money to bribe me into agreeing with his plan, no more information needed... And that even though THIS time I managed to walk away without (this used to be MY m-o) agreeing to anything, apologizing for anything, or getting angry over anything-- I still walked away feeling belittled, ungrateful, and confused about his true motives.
And I had this horrible urge to write him an email apologizing for representing my own interests in the conversation, and coaching him through his obvious confusion about what he's allowed to show concern for as a friend vs. a significant other. Because that is what I would have done while we were married. (He stopped mid-sentence to apologize for showing an interest in and concern for my well-being, and changed the subject. It's the only time I came into the conversation at all, and it was STILL all about him! Now that takes talent.) None of which I need or want to do, actually. No, ACTUALLY, I'm furious with myself-- and with him-- for having those desires in the first place.
Now, I've been doing a very good job of relinquishing responsibility for his well-being, and halting his continued attempts to mess with me. I've just been doing it slowly-- because I had to continue interacting with him for another six months regardless of my own desires. But this one interaction threw me back (temporarily) to where I was three years ago. Not cool.
I realized that by changing the rules on me, and making his little financial offer, he'd shaken my composure to such a degree that I had lost my footing and fallen into old (and familiar) habits. Thanks to my best friend's sage observations about truth in advertising, however, I'm no longer confused, rattled, or otherwise lost. I recognize just how far I HAVE advanced in my quest to be a healthy individual. (capital H, capital I) And I'm going to make my decision based on what's best for ME, with no remorse about representing my own interests, thank you very much.
Ahhh, yes-- the Ex factor.
After all-- I was married to it. (This is actually another one of those "We Know What That Means" quotes... but that is a story for another time.)
Wednesday, October 24
We Know What THAT Means
Recent additions to the list of phrases, and their history:
"Somebody oughta just pee on his shoes."
Folks, we were all sitting at my favorite Chinese Cuisine Restaurant, all twelve of us, and we were talking about that poor senator with the wide potty stance. R said (pointing out how totally NOT news-worthy the whole issue was) that if some strange guy had put his foot into R's stall, that looser would have walked away with a bloody stump. That's when I chimed in: "Or at least wet shoes!" It was a wild night, really.
"Anybody got a ziplock baggie? We could neutralize that (insert problem here) real quick!"
Now, as much as I think I'll probably say this to someone someday, it actually has to do with Crazy Aunt Purl. THIS ENTRY HERE. You gotta love the quick-thinking of the FAA when it comes to neutralizing threats to the American Public. I tell you, I'm going to carry a baggie like that with me from now on-- just in case! (You also gotta honestly appreciate that supervisor who managed to find a way to allow her to keep the offending mascara, but still meet regulation requirements in this obviously inapplicable situation.)
"He's the kind of person who'd hand in a poem for grading."
This one is a bit more obscure, but it did come up recently, for my mom. Basically, she went to a two-day workshop with a Nationally Acclaimed Poet (I think he won the Nobel prize for Poetry or something). On the first day, he asked folks to write a poem about their town. On the second day, he (being a free spirit and poet) forgot about the poems until folks asked if he could look at them after the workshop ended. And a few people actually handed their poems to him for "grading" like it had been an assignment and not an opportunity! And he did it!
Then other folks started reading their poems to him before handing them over-- which is how poetry is meant to be presented, by the way. And later that week my mom was confronted by a guy who obviously cared more about regulations and lines in the sand than about people and creative thinking. She described him to a friend from the workshop as "He's the kind of person who'd hand in a poem for grading." And now we all know what THAT means! (I enjoyed the story, but I think it took my mom a good 45 minutes on the clock to tell it, because she tells a story with such detail that you could actually have attended it yourself, whether you need those details to appreciate the punchline or not!)
Now, this list doesn't mention old favorites, because it's the NEW PHRASES list... but I'd just like to give honorable mention to "tweezers and a lemon," and omg-- I just tried to spell cuisine with a Q and a z!!! I need help. kthxbai.
"Somebody oughta just pee on his shoes."
Folks, we were all sitting at my favorite Chinese Cuisine Restaurant, all twelve of us, and we were talking about that poor senator with the wide potty stance. R said (pointing out how totally NOT news-worthy the whole issue was) that if some strange guy had put his foot into R's stall, that looser would have walked away with a bloody stump. That's when I chimed in: "Or at least wet shoes!" It was a wild night, really.
"Anybody got a ziplock baggie? We could neutralize that (insert problem here) real quick!"
Now, as much as I think I'll probably say this to someone someday, it actually has to do with Crazy Aunt Purl. THIS ENTRY HERE. You gotta love the quick-thinking of the FAA when it comes to neutralizing threats to the American Public. I tell you, I'm going to carry a baggie like that with me from now on-- just in case! (You also gotta honestly appreciate that supervisor who managed to find a way to allow her to keep the offending mascara, but still meet regulation requirements in this obviously inapplicable situation.)
"He's the kind of person who'd hand in a poem for grading."
This one is a bit more obscure, but it did come up recently, for my mom. Basically, she went to a two-day workshop with a Nationally Acclaimed Poet (I think he won the Nobel prize for Poetry or something). On the first day, he asked folks to write a poem about their town. On the second day, he (being a free spirit and poet) forgot about the poems until folks asked if he could look at them after the workshop ended. And a few people actually handed their poems to him for "grading" like it had been an assignment and not an opportunity! And he did it!
Then other folks started reading their poems to him before handing them over-- which is how poetry is meant to be presented, by the way. And later that week my mom was confronted by a guy who obviously cared more about regulations and lines in the sand than about people and creative thinking. She described him to a friend from the workshop as "He's the kind of person who'd hand in a poem for grading." And now we all know what THAT means! (I enjoyed the story, but I think it took my mom a good 45 minutes on the clock to tell it, because she tells a story with such detail that you could actually have attended it yourself, whether you need those details to appreciate the punchline or not!)
Now, this list doesn't mention old favorites, because it's the NEW PHRASES list... but I'd just like to give honorable mention to "tweezers and a lemon," and omg-- I just tried to spell cuisine with a Q and a z!!! I need help. kthxbai.
Sunday, October 21
Neighborhood BBQ
It's 2am. I'm up and blogging because it's quiet. You know, in comparison to the last 25 minutes, during which time the all-building fire alarm was screaming at the top of its lungs.
Loudly.
But I learned that having some idiot pull the fire alarm at 1am is a REALLY good way to get to know your neighbors. No shigt, there we were. All of us. From the whole building. Standing around in our coats and sweat pants, laughing because we each determined that it wasn't OUR room that was on fire, and therefore tried to dismantle the ceiling alarm in our respective rooms... before we realized that this was not an alarm we could dismantle. No. In fact, someone came up from a different floor to apologize to those of us standing around outside, and explain that he'd left his friends alone in his apartment for a few minutes, and that someone had gone and pulled the fire alarm. Which can only be turned off by the fire department, it turns out. Thank god someone thought to call them.
We also laughed about what each of us thought to bring out of our apartments when we thought the building might be burning down. I brought my cat, my purse, and my book of passwords. I even remembered to put on pants and a coat, and get my car keys before I opened the door to my neighbors and went to stand in the cold for however long it took. The girl below me who thought to call the fire department took a moment to clean up her dirty clothes pile, and then grabbed her purse and her recycling so the place would be clean when the firemen arrived. She even had her make up on. A guy from down the way grabbed ear plugs and his leather coat. The guy below me grabbed his guitar.
Funny what matters most when you can't take everything. Funny that we all checked out our own places and assumed it was our own false alarm (because this happens a lot individually for us all-- any combination of cooking and oil will do it)... and that it took probably 5 or 10 minutes for us all to get out of our apartments. If it had been a real fire, would we have made it out?
I put my cat in the car, and then stood with everyone else on the sidewalk while people who'd been through this before told us how it happens, and how it gets turned off. And the guy with the do-it-yourself tattoos and the idiot friend (and the just-starting party) apologized. And finally the fire truck came. And they turned off the alarm. And we all wished each other a good night, and went back to our respective 2am activities. If my cat catches pneumonia, I know where to send the bill, that's for sure!
I've definitely decided to sleep in. Don't call me, k? And... I'm glad to say that most of my neighbors are pretty darn nice. Even at 2am.
Loudly.
But I learned that having some idiot pull the fire alarm at 1am is a REALLY good way to get to know your neighbors. No shigt, there we were. All of us. From the whole building. Standing around in our coats and sweat pants, laughing because we each determined that it wasn't OUR room that was on fire, and therefore tried to dismantle the ceiling alarm in our respective rooms... before we realized that this was not an alarm we could dismantle. No. In fact, someone came up from a different floor to apologize to those of us standing around outside, and explain that he'd left his friends alone in his apartment for a few minutes, and that someone had gone and pulled the fire alarm. Which can only be turned off by the fire department, it turns out. Thank god someone thought to call them.
We also laughed about what each of us thought to bring out of our apartments when we thought the building might be burning down. I brought my cat, my purse, and my book of passwords. I even remembered to put on pants and a coat, and get my car keys before I opened the door to my neighbors and went to stand in the cold for however long it took. The girl below me who thought to call the fire department took a moment to clean up her dirty clothes pile, and then grabbed her purse and her recycling so the place would be clean when the firemen arrived. She even had her make up on. A guy from down the way grabbed ear plugs and his leather coat. The guy below me grabbed his guitar.
Funny what matters most when you can't take everything. Funny that we all checked out our own places and assumed it was our own false alarm (because this happens a lot individually for us all-- any combination of cooking and oil will do it)... and that it took probably 5 or 10 minutes for us all to get out of our apartments. If it had been a real fire, would we have made it out?
I put my cat in the car, and then stood with everyone else on the sidewalk while people who'd been through this before told us how it happens, and how it gets turned off. And the guy with the do-it-yourself tattoos and the idiot friend (and the just-starting party) apologized. And finally the fire truck came. And they turned off the alarm. And we all wished each other a good night, and went back to our respective 2am activities. If my cat catches pneumonia, I know where to send the bill, that's for sure!
I've definitely decided to sleep in. Don't call me, k? And... I'm glad to say that most of my neighbors are pretty darn nice. Even at 2am.
Thursday, October 18
Just Awesome
So today, I went straight from work to the Crazy Aunt Purl "Drunk Divorced and Covered in Cat Hair" book signing. It totally rocked. I was asked to notice if she's really as cute in person as she is in her blog photos-- the answer is yes. She also talks with a really sweet accent and a killer sense of humor, and she does get calmer as the event gets going. She's one of those people that it is IMPOSSIBLE not to love.
Oh, and did I mention that I did in fact show up divorced, and covered in cat hair? And baby goo... but not exactly what you'd call DRUNK. I don't drink and drive. Although after work, sometimes I wish I could...
I think we also all got our endorphin fix from laughing at all the awesome stories and funny moments Laurie shared with us. And we all recognized in meeting her (as her blog has helped us see so many times before) that we really are not alone, and that we are definitely NOT the only person to go through what we've gone through. Be it divorce, knitting frenzies, awkward social situations, talking to cute guys after too much wine has been drunk, or failing to ever use our oven as an oven. Like for cooking, as opposed to storing other kitchen things. Which reminds me that I should probably make sure I did get all the hidden stuff emptied out of it last week...
After I get some much-needed food and sleep, I will upload my photos and post them-- It'll be my official 100'th post. Very appropriate, I believe. Oh, and even more cool-- she totally talks the exact same way she blogs. And she was HUMAN!!! I've never met an author who was human before. Her biggest piece of advice about writing your first book? Write Fiction! Understandably, touring the country and answering all sorts of personal questions about her life has been a bit uncomfortable at times. Apparently, she always thought her first book would be a steamy romance (fiction) anyway... And the second book we all want to read when it gets written has an awesome fried chicken recipe in it already.
Oh, and Firefox is her browser of choice. GO FIREFOX, we love you!
Dinner....
By the way-- did I mention that she promised to take a picture of her still-insane zucchini plants just for one of the people in the audience who asked about them? I'm looking forward to that. Rogue Zucchini Runs Amok!!
Oh, and did I mention that I did in fact show up divorced, and covered in cat hair? And baby goo... but not exactly what you'd call DRUNK. I don't drink and drive. Although after work, sometimes I wish I could...
I think we also all got our endorphin fix from laughing at all the awesome stories and funny moments Laurie shared with us. And we all recognized in meeting her (as her blog has helped us see so many times before) that we really are not alone, and that we are definitely NOT the only person to go through what we've gone through. Be it divorce, knitting frenzies, awkward social situations, talking to cute guys after too much wine has been drunk, or failing to ever use our oven as an oven. Like for cooking, as opposed to storing other kitchen things. Which reminds me that I should probably make sure I did get all the hidden stuff emptied out of it last week...
After I get some much-needed food and sleep, I will upload my photos and post them-- It'll be my official 100'th post. Very appropriate, I believe. Oh, and even more cool-- she totally talks the exact same way she blogs. And she was HUMAN!!! I've never met an author who was human before. Her biggest piece of advice about writing your first book? Write Fiction! Understandably, touring the country and answering all sorts of personal questions about her life has been a bit uncomfortable at times. Apparently, she always thought her first book would be a steamy romance (fiction) anyway... And the second book we all want to read when it gets written has an awesome fried chicken recipe in it already.
Oh, and Firefox is her browser of choice. GO FIREFOX, we love you!
Dinner....
By the way-- did I mention that she promised to take a picture of her still-insane zucchini plants just for one of the people in the audience who asked about them? I'm looking forward to that. Rogue Zucchini Runs Amok!!
Wednesday, October 17
Moment of the Day
No shigt, there I was. (That's how all good Army stories start. Makes you want to hear what's going to happen next, doesn't it?) Sitting behind the Reference Desk at the Unnamed Public Library, observing Reference Services in action.
On one side, young guy, quiet voice, girlfriend hiding around the corner:
"Do you guys have the Kamga Sugtra?"
On the other side, mature mother with 8-year-old daughter peering anxiously around Mom's elbow:
"Where do you keep the Frog and Toad stories?"
The juxtaposition of those two requests (and the stages in life of the people making them) was priceless.
I just love the Reference Desk. I really do. Today, among our other requests, we also had one for the history of bread making, one for books about Thunder and Lightning for toddlers (somebody got scared), and a woman who hadn't used her library card in over five years, but really really wanted to check out Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. We also discovered that we have NO books about spiders in stock, and only one children's fact book on mosquitos. It was a sad day for somebody. Also, I discovered that ALL the copies of The Princess Diaries, vol. 1, are checked out until doom's day, or the day after. I have to read it before our next Teen Council meeting, by popular choice, no less. That's going to be fun. Oh, and apparently the third book in some Violent Fantasy series for pre-teens is due out soon, and nobody quite knows when. Solution?
Ask Reference.
And lets not for get that the crazy man wanted to have a staring contest (which we've all been warned NOT TO DO with this particular crazy. Seriously. As soon as they saw him coming, the closest librarian turned to me and said, "Don't make eye contact with this one. He's bad-crazy.") so he made kissy noises at all the women behind the desk until our WONDERFUL security officer of the day came back inside, and crazy man left. Apparently, the crazy man is still smart and sane enough not to cause trouble in front of a cop. Who, by the way, had just finished dealing with another crazy person (female this time) who'd been harassing patrons on their way into the library.
Wednesday is crazy people day.
So yeah. Just another day at the office.
How was yours?
....You know... In retrospect, it occurs to me that some smart producer will eventually realize that libraries are NOT boring, and all the insane stories we librarians have amassed over the years and years and years we've been working with THE PUBLIC (all of it) will finally have an OUTLET. Can you imagine how FUNNY and yet Reality TV Bazarre a sitcom could be if it were based around all the stuff that happens around the Reference Desk at a busy library? I mean-- we've got rebellious teens trying to shock us by asking for info about occult magic (Yes, that section is HERE, and we've got some great websites to suggest as well. Have you read anything by Scott Cunningham yet?); and we've got elderly ladies learning to use computers so they can do online dating; and we've got the little angelic boy who keeps finding new and inventive ways to jam the printer... There is even a whole genre of librarian humor devoted to different terms and best locations for "doing it" in the stacks, you know. And we've found the dirty condgoms to prove it, thank you very much.
That's not even MENTIONING all the drama and hilarity of filming the librarians themselves. How about the 5foot tall ex-rugby player with her dog's footprint tattooed on her back? And the old-school reference lady who turns off her hearing aid when she doesn't feel like helping people? And the ex-Secret Service guy who left Government work and went into on-call reference services at the public library, but likes to act tough and tell war stories from Desert Storm (he wasn't ever officially there, you know) around the few male librarians we've managed to hire...
What about old what's-her-name who accidentally left behind forty-one pairs of black pumps when she retired? (We're still not sure what she wore home from work on those particular days.) Or Henry, who up until a year or two ago, was both head of a well-known Academic Library, and one of the best-loved down hill ski coaches (not to mention his hobby of white-water rafting!) ever. Oh, and that hot children's librarian from Europe, with the cute little accent and the cute little buns... Too bad he's married... And I don't think you could pay me enough to wear those two 8-foot tall cat costumes that require someone else to lead you around because you can't really see out of them... But yet those two cats are seen at every ALA conference, bumbling around after cute library geeks whenever they find one...
I tell you, a sitcom based on library world would strike PAY DIRT. Nobody could make up some of the stories we've got to tell! And believe it or not, I have personally met every one of those librarians previously mentioned. And most of the patrons, too. I have yet to find a condgom, but I know people who have, and I did once find a squatter in the library at closing time. He'd set up his tent back in the Government Documents section, correctly assuming that nobody goes there if they can help it, and was preparing a wiener dog over a propane burner for his dinner when I passed by. I still can't believe the fire alarm didn't go off.
But then... you know my opinion of fire alarms.
On one side, young guy, quiet voice, girlfriend hiding around the corner:
"Do you guys have the Kamga Sugtra?"
On the other side, mature mother with 8-year-old daughter peering anxiously around Mom's elbow:
"Where do you keep the Frog and Toad stories?"
The juxtaposition of those two requests (and the stages in life of the people making them) was priceless.
I just love the Reference Desk. I really do. Today, among our other requests, we also had one for the history of bread making, one for books about Thunder and Lightning for toddlers (somebody got scared), and a woman who hadn't used her library card in over five years, but really really wanted to check out Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. We also discovered that we have NO books about spiders in stock, and only one children's fact book on mosquitos. It was a sad day for somebody. Also, I discovered that ALL the copies of The Princess Diaries, vol. 1, are checked out until doom's day, or the day after. I have to read it before our next Teen Council meeting, by popular choice, no less. That's going to be fun. Oh, and apparently the third book in some Violent Fantasy series for pre-teens is due out soon, and nobody quite knows when. Solution?
Ask Reference.
And lets not for get that the crazy man wanted to have a staring contest (which we've all been warned NOT TO DO with this particular crazy. Seriously. As soon as they saw him coming, the closest librarian turned to me and said, "Don't make eye contact with this one. He's bad-crazy.") so he made kissy noises at all the women behind the desk until our WONDERFUL security officer of the day came back inside, and crazy man left. Apparently, the crazy man is still smart and sane enough not to cause trouble in front of a cop. Who, by the way, had just finished dealing with another crazy person (female this time) who'd been harassing patrons on their way into the library.
Wednesday is crazy people day.
So yeah. Just another day at the office.
How was yours?
....You know... In retrospect, it occurs to me that some smart producer will eventually realize that libraries are NOT boring, and all the insane stories we librarians have amassed over the years and years and years we've been working with THE PUBLIC (all of it) will finally have an OUTLET. Can you imagine how FUNNY and yet Reality TV Bazarre a sitcom could be if it were based around all the stuff that happens around the Reference Desk at a busy library? I mean-- we've got rebellious teens trying to shock us by asking for info about occult magic (Yes, that section is HERE, and we've got some great websites to suggest as well. Have you read anything by Scott Cunningham yet?); and we've got elderly ladies learning to use computers so they can do online dating; and we've got the little angelic boy who keeps finding new and inventive ways to jam the printer... There is even a whole genre of librarian humor devoted to different terms and best locations for "doing it" in the stacks, you know. And we've found the dirty condgoms to prove it, thank you very much.
That's not even MENTIONING all the drama and hilarity of filming the librarians themselves. How about the 5foot tall ex-rugby player with her dog's footprint tattooed on her back? And the old-school reference lady who turns off her hearing aid when she doesn't feel like helping people? And the ex-Secret Service guy who left Government work and went into on-call reference services at the public library, but likes to act tough and tell war stories from Desert Storm (he wasn't ever officially there, you know) around the few male librarians we've managed to hire...
What about old what's-her-name who accidentally left behind forty-one pairs of black pumps when she retired? (We're still not sure what she wore home from work on those particular days.) Or Henry, who up until a year or two ago, was both head of a well-known Academic Library, and one of the best-loved down hill ski coaches (not to mention his hobby of white-water rafting!) ever. Oh, and that hot children's librarian from Europe, with the cute little accent and the cute little buns... Too bad he's married... And I don't think you could pay me enough to wear those two 8-foot tall cat costumes that require someone else to lead you around because you can't really see out of them... But yet those two cats are seen at every ALA conference, bumbling around after cute library geeks whenever they find one...
I tell you, a sitcom based on library world would strike PAY DIRT. Nobody could make up some of the stories we've got to tell! And believe it or not, I have personally met every one of those librarians previously mentioned. And most of the patrons, too. I have yet to find a condgom, but I know people who have, and I did once find a squatter in the library at closing time. He'd set up his tent back in the Government Documents section, correctly assuming that nobody goes there if they can help it, and was preparing a wiener dog over a propane burner for his dinner when I passed by. I still can't believe the fire alarm didn't go off.
But then... you know my opinion of fire alarms.
Sunday, October 14
Hi, this is cool.
Okay, go check out this podcast of this all-girl's elementary school. It rocks. It's also kinda funny at times-- because these are kids. And kids are funny sometimes.
CHECK THIS OUT!!!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gVhzDJPxKKg&eurl=http%3A%2F%2Ffeministing%2Ecom%2F
CHECK THIS OUT!!!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gVhzDJPxKKg&eurl=http%3A%2F%2Ffeministing%2Ecom%2F
96... And Counting
So, much to my amazement, this is officially my 96th post on my err-what blog. Watch for national news coverage when I hit post #100... or not...
Did I bump into Mr. Nice Eyes at the Garden when I went back on Friday? no. But the leaves were all turning color, and the air was crisp but not snot-cold (you know when it's cold enough to make your nose run, even though you are perfectly warm in your fleece vest and ear-warmers? snot-cold), and I'm really glad I went. Turns out the guy in the entrance box has a mother who used to be a librarian. So even though my school STILL has not sent me a student id (have I mentioned that I graduate in two months?), I answered three questions right and got in at the student rate anyhow. Just to clarify-- I AM a student. ...And I like red heads.
Did my student loan eventually show up? YES! On Wednesday. So I made huge payments to my credit cards and spent what was left on that stereo I promised myself back in July. I should be getting the other half of my student loan ...oh... sometime before Christmas.
In the meantime, I cannot BEGIN to tell how you much I have missed having access to music in my home. In fact, I have barely turned the stereo off long enough to sleep since I brought it home. I'M THAT EXCITED!!!
It made me think. My ex was always the one who played music (and chose what to play) while I was married-- and to give credit where due, he sometimes tried to play something he thought we'd both like to hear. Mostly, he played the soundtrack to Jay and Silent Bob. There's a whole track devoted to artistically rapping the word "fugck." And a few songs about being high and all the things that didn't happen because of it (like getting to have segx). And... well... I mostly ignored the other tracks because they were rather offensive.
So... let me just reiterate how HAPPY I am to have MY OWN STEREO. It's been five years. Plus. And I've been playing awesome music like the "happy radio station" that only plays upbeat songs, and my rodrigo y gabriela CD-- this group is from Mexico, where they were a heavy metal band. But then they went to Ireland, and started playing guitar in local pubs and on the streets there. Now, they play acoustic guitar like I've never heard it played. Oh, and I'm playing my Enya music, and trying REALLY HARD not to break out the Christmas music again-- waiting until November, at least. I mean, really. June and December are the real seasons for that kind of music, and I'm trying not to jump the gun.... Trans Siberian Orchestra, HERE I COME!!!
My Shania Twain and Carrie Underwood are sounding pretty good, too, not to mention that Kid Rock CD I took as part of my divorce settlement. I love the duet with Sheryl Crow. Umm... A little Stray Cats, a little Sugar Ray... Cap'n Bogg and Salty... Dvorak... Godsmack... Jet... Gypsie Kings... Pink... Yeah. You could say my taste is eclectic. Or bizarre.
Did I bump into Mr. Nice Eyes at the Garden when I went back on Friday? no. But the leaves were all turning color, and the air was crisp but not snot-cold (you know when it's cold enough to make your nose run, even though you are perfectly warm in your fleece vest and ear-warmers? snot-cold), and I'm really glad I went. Turns out the guy in the entrance box has a mother who used to be a librarian. So even though my school STILL has not sent me a student id (have I mentioned that I graduate in two months?), I answered three questions right and got in at the student rate anyhow. Just to clarify-- I AM a student. ...And I like red heads.
Did my student loan eventually show up? YES! On Wednesday. So I made huge payments to my credit cards and spent what was left on that stereo I promised myself back in July. I should be getting the other half of my student loan ...oh... sometime before Christmas.
In the meantime, I cannot BEGIN to tell how you much I have missed having access to music in my home. In fact, I have barely turned the stereo off long enough to sleep since I brought it home. I'M THAT EXCITED!!!
It made me think. My ex was always the one who played music (and chose what to play) while I was married-- and to give credit where due, he sometimes tried to play something he thought we'd both like to hear. Mostly, he played the soundtrack to Jay and Silent Bob. There's a whole track devoted to artistically rapping the word "fugck." And a few songs about being high and all the things that didn't happen because of it (like getting to have segx). And... well... I mostly ignored the other tracks because they were rather offensive.
So... let me just reiterate how HAPPY I am to have MY OWN STEREO. It's been five years. Plus. And I've been playing awesome music like the "happy radio station" that only plays upbeat songs, and my rodrigo y gabriela CD-- this group is from Mexico, where they were a heavy metal band. But then they went to Ireland, and started playing guitar in local pubs and on the streets there. Now, they play acoustic guitar like I've never heard it played. Oh, and I'm playing my Enya music, and trying REALLY HARD not to break out the Christmas music again-- waiting until November, at least. I mean, really. June and December are the real seasons for that kind of music, and I'm trying not to jump the gun.... Trans Siberian Orchestra, HERE I COME!!!
My Shania Twain and Carrie Underwood are sounding pretty good, too, not to mention that Kid Rock CD I took as part of my divorce settlement. I love the duet with Sheryl Crow. Umm... A little Stray Cats, a little Sugar Ray... Cap'n Bogg and Salty... Dvorak... Godsmack... Jet... Gypsie Kings... Pink... Yeah. You could say my taste is eclectic. Or bizarre.
Saturday, October 6
Approaching Normal
My good friend, Gussie Finknottle, and I went to the Gardens yesterday. We thought we'd catch the Fall Colors, but I guess we were a little early. It was beautiful, as always, though, and we sipped green tea and noshed on lavender-flavored chocolate in one of the enclosures in the Garden. That is a day I want to repeat as often as possible.
As we wandered down to Gussie's favorite bench, we passed a man deep in meditation by the falls. I thought nothing of it until he, in turn, wandered past us as we sipped our tea. He was a good looking man. He was alone. He was about my age. Gussie and I had fun admiring his many fine attributes after he'd walked past. I suspect he may have heard some of what we said because he showed up in many of the places we went after we'd finished our tea and taken our pictures. He has very nice eyes, and a really gentle smile. I know because we achieved eye-lock in passing.
The funny part is that I had no idea what to DO about it. I felt shy about approaching him-- and what the heck do you say to a guy you've never met??? You have nice eyes, here's my phone number? How old are you, and are you currently in a relationship because I don't want to ask out a married man who's twice my age? (or, conversely, who it's technically illegal for me to date) ... I guess maybe he was also unsure of what to do about our little non-existent interaction... because we never did do more than bump into each other and smile a lot.
And I'm actually pretty disappointed that I didn't take the opportunity. How likely is it that I'll run into him again in THIS town?! It certainly never happened before. I'd remember him. And really-- what IS normal when it comes to approaching someone you think you'd like a chance to know better?
I still don't know, but at least I have a sort of a plan if I find someone interesting in my path again. I'm going to go up to him (a good way to start, non?), and ask if he works around here. Tell him I was feeling shy about asking a stranger on a date, but maybe if I run into him again once or twice, he'll ask me instead. I figure a mix of honesty and humor can't be bad, and if he tells me he IS seeing someone or married or working at K-mart after school (high school), well, at least I didn't ask him out on a date, and I know where NOT to go to avoid seeing him again. I think it's a good plan. I think this because at least now I HAVE a plan.
And... in the meantime... I might just plan to hit the Gardens again next Friday.
... Just in case.
As we wandered down to Gussie's favorite bench, we passed a man deep in meditation by the falls. I thought nothing of it until he, in turn, wandered past us as we sipped our tea. He was a good looking man. He was alone. He was about my age. Gussie and I had fun admiring his many fine attributes after he'd walked past. I suspect he may have heard some of what we said because he showed up in many of the places we went after we'd finished our tea and taken our pictures. He has very nice eyes, and a really gentle smile. I know because we achieved eye-lock in passing.
The funny part is that I had no idea what to DO about it. I felt shy about approaching him-- and what the heck do you say to a guy you've never met??? You have nice eyes, here's my phone number? How old are you, and are you currently in a relationship because I don't want to ask out a married man who's twice my age? (or, conversely, who it's technically illegal for me to date) ... I guess maybe he was also unsure of what to do about our little non-existent interaction... because we never did do more than bump into each other and smile a lot.
And I'm actually pretty disappointed that I didn't take the opportunity. How likely is it that I'll run into him again in THIS town?! It certainly never happened before. I'd remember him. And really-- what IS normal when it comes to approaching someone you think you'd like a chance to know better?
I still don't know, but at least I have a sort of a plan if I find someone interesting in my path again. I'm going to go up to him (a good way to start, non?), and ask if he works around here. Tell him I was feeling shy about asking a stranger on a date, but maybe if I run into him again once or twice, he'll ask me instead. I figure a mix of honesty and humor can't be bad, and if he tells me he IS seeing someone or married or working at K-mart after school (high school), well, at least I didn't ask him out on a date, and I know where NOT to go to avoid seeing him again. I think it's a good plan. I think this because at least now I HAVE a plan.
And... in the meantime... I might just plan to hit the Gardens again next Friday.
... Just in case.
Thursday, September 27
Spider Season
There was a spider in my pickle jar this morning. I swear, it's true.
Not only that, but two different financial institutions have informed me today that it is not financially possible for the guy who screwed up my student loans yesterday to do what he claims he did. And even though the mail room doesn't open until 10am in the mornings, it was open at 9:15am this morning when I went one last time to look for my lost student loan check.
No check. No junk mail, either.
How bizarre, how bizarre.
Not only that, but two different financial institutions have informed me today that it is not financially possible for the guy who screwed up my student loans yesterday to do what he claims he did. And even though the mail room doesn't open until 10am in the mornings, it was open at 9:15am this morning when I went one last time to look for my lost student loan check.
No check. No junk mail, either.
How bizarre, how bizarre.
Wednesday, September 26
Qwack-Qwack
Okay. If you haven't gone out and read Kiss My Tiara by Susan Jane Gilman, DO IT NOW. But only if you are fairly certain you are a woman.
Because then you will understand when I refer to such-and-such as just another Qwack-Qwack notion. Like fake leather thong bikinis. Or tattoo'd on makeup. Or diet twinkies. Or nylon pantyhos. I mean, really. Who invented this sort of rediculous torture, anyhow?!
And honestly, who wouldn't love to have a grandmother who says things like, "Take a few lovers, travel the world, and don't take any crap." (page xiii-- reading the forward is vital to understanidng what comes next. See?) So, like I said, go borrow a book from the local library. And make sure the title is Kiss My Tiara. Or, if you can't find that, I have it on good authority that you could easily settle for Hypocrite in a Pouffy White Dress instead.
Because then you will understand when I refer to such-and-such as just another Qwack-Qwack notion. Like fake leather thong bikinis. Or tattoo'd on makeup. Or diet twinkies. Or nylon pantyhos. I mean, really. Who invented this sort of rediculous torture, anyhow?!
And honestly, who wouldn't love to have a grandmother who says things like, "Take a few lovers, travel the world, and don't take any crap." (page xiii-- reading the forward is vital to understanidng what comes next. See?) So, like I said, go borrow a book from the local library. And make sure the title is Kiss My Tiara. Or, if you can't find that, I have it on good authority that you could easily settle for Hypocrite in a Pouffy White Dress instead.
Moonrise over the DoubleDribble
It's been an exciting 24 hours.
I haven't spotted the hidden cameras yet, but I know they're out there filming away, with glee in their hearts and laughter on their lips. I guess it's a good thing they aren't paying me. I don't think they could pay me enough to have these experiences on purpose.
The little boy I nanny (age 2.5) has discovered what stoplights are for, and that different kinds of vehicles have "names." So he is, at the age of 2.5, becoming an accomplished back seat driver. He also pretends to be a loud, fast, red "Thord" Truck (and boy is he LOUD and FAST when he plays truck!!!). He also has noted that the front end of my car is "broken," and really feels that I should get it fixed. I know because he now brings it up on a regular basis. Like every five minutes. I agree with him. And as soon as I have an extra $1,100 lying around, I will go right out and do that, if only to change the subject.
Driving home last night (after a longer than usual work day-- usual being 10 hours, plus driving), I tried to open a new bottle of water by squeezing it between my legs so I could drive with one hand and twist the lid with the other. This resulted in a geyser-like fountain of cold water soaking my pants and car seat-- RIGHT THERE-- and feeling really odd all the way home. Except first I had to walk into the library and pick up a bunch of books on hold. And greet my coworkers. All while pretending that it didn't really look like I just peed my pants.
It felt like a wet bathing suit about an hour after you get out of the pool, only the rest of me was fully clothed and perfectly dry. And let me tell you, undies take a fugging long time to dry, and hours-old wet bathing suits are COLD!!!
Of course, this was also the night that I had to drive straight to the unnamed library from work so that I could pick up the books I was supposed to have read for the Inservice I attended all day today. I got there 15 minutes before the library closed, and both books I needed were in. Of course, I got home around 8:30pm, and was just so hungry and exhausted that I only read one of the books. Unfortunately, it was not the one they actually remembered to ask me to give a presentation on at the Inservice today. Yeah-- THAT was the book I DIDN'T read.
Luckily, on my way past the exit I would normally take to go HOME from work, sitting in my soggy and rather hysterical state of exhaustion, with Kid Rock playing thumpily about cowboys in the background, I noticed the moon. A full moon. A harvest moon. Rising over the edge of a distant hill, right next to the snowy top of some awesome mountain or other. They were actually about the same size. Immense and breath-taking. And the whole view was framed between two much closer foothills. I knew I had my camera in the car. I just couldn't find it.
...Until about 20 minutes later when I was at a stoplight about 10 minutes away from the unnamed library. That's when I found the camera, and finally managed to take a picture of this gorgeous glowing full moon...
And this morning, as I spoke with the financial aid office about why I STILL don't have my student loan money, but have received ten letters about how they plan to give it to me in the near future, I downloaded the photo onto my computer. There she was. The most beautiful full moon I've seen in quite a while. Rising majestically into the clear sky over the Double Dribble bar. Sigh...
That's when Student Aid finally informed me that they'd sent my student loan checks out two weeks ago-- to my old address that I haven't lived at for over a year. And to compound it all, I got home from a full day of training today (on how to be an effective Youth Librarian), only to find an email from Student Aid informing me that ALL of my student loan checks have now been canceled and reissued. Even the ones I received a year ago and deposited and used up.
....man.... I wish I kept hard alcohol in the house! And unbidden came the thought...
"I'll bet the Double Dribble has some."
I haven't spotted the hidden cameras yet, but I know they're out there filming away, with glee in their hearts and laughter on their lips. I guess it's a good thing they aren't paying me. I don't think they could pay me enough to have these experiences on purpose.
The little boy I nanny (age 2.5) has discovered what stoplights are for, and that different kinds of vehicles have "names." So he is, at the age of 2.5, becoming an accomplished back seat driver. He also pretends to be a loud, fast, red "Thord" Truck (and boy is he LOUD and FAST when he plays truck!!!). He also has noted that the front end of my car is "broken," and really feels that I should get it fixed. I know because he now brings it up on a regular basis. Like every five minutes. I agree with him. And as soon as I have an extra $1,100 lying around, I will go right out and do that, if only to change the subject.
Driving home last night (after a longer than usual work day-- usual being 10 hours, plus driving), I tried to open a new bottle of water by squeezing it between my legs so I could drive with one hand and twist the lid with the other. This resulted in a geyser-like fountain of cold water soaking my pants and car seat-- RIGHT THERE-- and feeling really odd all the way home. Except first I had to walk into the library and pick up a bunch of books on hold. And greet my coworkers. All while pretending that it didn't really look like I just peed my pants.
It felt like a wet bathing suit about an hour after you get out of the pool, only the rest of me was fully clothed and perfectly dry. And let me tell you, undies take a fugging long time to dry, and hours-old wet bathing suits are COLD!!!
Of course, this was also the night that I had to drive straight to the unnamed library from work so that I could pick up the books I was supposed to have read for the Inservice I attended all day today. I got there 15 minutes before the library closed, and both books I needed were in. Of course, I got home around 8:30pm, and was just so hungry and exhausted that I only read one of the books. Unfortunately, it was not the one they actually remembered to ask me to give a presentation on at the Inservice today. Yeah-- THAT was the book I DIDN'T read.
Luckily, on my way past the exit I would normally take to go HOME from work, sitting in my soggy and rather hysterical state of exhaustion, with Kid Rock playing thumpily about cowboys in the background, I noticed the moon. A full moon. A harvest moon. Rising over the edge of a distant hill, right next to the snowy top of some awesome mountain or other. They were actually about the same size. Immense and breath-taking. And the whole view was framed between two much closer foothills. I knew I had my camera in the car. I just couldn't find it.
...Until about 20 minutes later when I was at a stoplight about 10 minutes away from the unnamed library. That's when I found the camera, and finally managed to take a picture of this gorgeous glowing full moon...
And this morning, as I spoke with the financial aid office about why I STILL don't have my student loan money, but have received ten letters about how they plan to give it to me in the near future, I downloaded the photo onto my computer. There she was. The most beautiful full moon I've seen in quite a while. Rising majestically into the clear sky over the Double Dribble bar. Sigh...
That's when Student Aid finally informed me that they'd sent my student loan checks out two weeks ago-- to my old address that I haven't lived at for over a year. And to compound it all, I got home from a full day of training today (on how to be an effective Youth Librarian), only to find an email from Student Aid informing me that ALL of my student loan checks have now been canceled and reissued. Even the ones I received a year ago and deposited and used up.
....man.... I wish I kept hard alcohol in the house! And unbidden came the thought...
"I'll bet the Double Dribble has some."
Sunday, September 16
Vote me in!
I joined the I CAN HAZ CHEEZBURGER madness today.
You know that photo of my cat hunting dustballs under the rug? I use it a lot. And hey-- I've shared with my friends, my blogging family, and a few others-- but why stop there? I COULD be sharing it with the WORLD!!!
www.thecheezburgerfactory.com//ThereIsNoDead.jpg
Because, you know, why do homework when you can do this?!
By the way, these are not mine. I borrowed them from the site.
Because I love them. And I am just a little bit insane. =)
YAY!
So I did my first official library event today-- my first all by myself not at the library event, that is. And I think it was a success. I feel good. And thank goodness a couple of volunteers showed up to help! I hope I didn't take over too much, because I was SO glad to have more than just me at that table. Especially with all the little kids using glue at the same time!
We made puppets. We colored in big bubble letters. We stuck stickers everywhere. And we handed out info on age-appropriate books and the Unknown Public Library. We also got to pet a turtle and a hedgehog, watch the hula dancers, and stay dry in the rain while the orchestra performed. Free face painting, too. What could be better on a Sunday afternoon?!
Oh, and I even got to read one of the storytime stories I'd brought-- to an audience of one freaked out little kindergartener, and his grateful teenage cousin. It was a definite success.
Now I just have to muster enough energy to do my homework. Riiiight.
We made puppets. We colored in big bubble letters. We stuck stickers everywhere. And we handed out info on age-appropriate books and the Unknown Public Library. We also got to pet a turtle and a hedgehog, watch the hula dancers, and stay dry in the rain while the orchestra performed. Free face painting, too. What could be better on a Sunday afternoon?!
Oh, and I even got to read one of the storytime stories I'd brought-- to an audience of one freaked out little kindergartener, and his grateful teenage cousin. It was a definite success.
Now I just have to muster enough energy to do my homework. Riiiight.
By Any Other Name...
So every Wednesday, and often also on Saturdays or Sundays, I drive the 20-40 minutes out to the Unnamed Public Library. Often, I'm there for my internship. Sometimes, I'm there to check out books.
The thing is that on my way there, I pass a bar. Well, I pass a lot of bars-- I have a pretty seedy red-neck area to drive through. But this bar stands out. Someone with imagination, humor, and a really dirty mind owns it. This bar is called the Double Dribble. And they specialize in Hot Girls and Cold Drinks.
I still haven't figured out whether I think it's funny or sick. I do know that I have no trouble remembering the name of this particular bar. And that I must also have a strange sense of humor to get the double entendre so easily... I also know I won't be going there. Not my scene. Just thought you should know.
The thing is that on my way there, I pass a bar. Well, I pass a lot of bars-- I have a pretty seedy red-neck area to drive through. But this bar stands out. Someone with imagination, humor, and a really dirty mind owns it. This bar is called the Double Dribble. And they specialize in Hot Girls and Cold Drinks.
I still haven't figured out whether I think it's funny or sick. I do know that I have no trouble remembering the name of this particular bar. And that I must also have a strange sense of humor to get the double entendre so easily... I also know I won't be going there. Not my scene. Just thought you should know.
Sunday, September 9
My Personality DNA
My Personality DNA is:
My personalDNA Report
I'm a Benevolent Architect. Yes I am.
The ratings below indicate How Much More I am of something than others are. In otherwords, if I get an 84%, it means that I placed my confidence level higher than that of 84% of other test takers. I think that will help me remember how different I am.
My personalDNA Report
I'm a Benevolent Architect. Yes I am.
The ratings below indicate How Much More I am of something than others are. In otherwords, if I get an 84%, it means that I placed my confidence level higher than that of 84% of other test takers. I think that will help me remember how different I am.
| Confidence |   Low High | 84 |
| Openness | Low High | 8 |
| Extroversion | Low High | 62 |
| Empathy | Low High | 90 |
| Trust in others | Low High | 70 |
| Agency | Low High | 70 |
| Masculinity | Low High | 28 |
| Femininity | Low High | 88 |
| Spontaneity | Low High | 26 |
| Attention to style | Low High | 44 |
| Authoritarianism | Low High | 28 |
| Earthy/Imaginative | Imaginative Earthy | 70 |
| Aesthetic/Functional | Functional Aesthetic | 48 |
XHTML OMG
Did I mention that school has started again? It has.
I'm taking a Web Design class for librarians with little or no knowledge of web design.
In week one, we read about the history of code languages, up through XML rules and the subsequent creation of XHTML 1.0. In brief. And I managed to miss the section where she described the assignment for the week. Now, it's week two. And I'm already behind because of last week's mistake. Great.
This week? The assignment is to create our first page on our website and turn in the code string, and the url, so the prof can see what it's supposed to look like (on the url), and how we made it look that way. Oh, and a list of elements/information we want on the page.
I am so fugcked.
I'm taking a Web Design class for librarians with little or no knowledge of web design.
In week one, we read about the history of code languages, up through XML rules and the subsequent creation of XHTML 1.0. In brief. And I managed to miss the section where she described the assignment for the week. Now, it's week two. And I'm already behind because of last week's mistake. Great.
This week? The assignment is to create our first page on our website and turn in the code string, and the url, so the prof can see what it's supposed to look like (on the url), and how we made it look that way. Oh, and a list of elements/information we want on the page.
I am so fugcked.
Monday, September 3
Not So Mature
Anybody have a cure for favorite jeans growing too tight? Besides buying new ones or getting on some weird diet? Anybody?
... sigh ...
Well... I think I'm due for a trip to Ross, Deja Vu, and the gym.
See, I had two pairs of "I love you" jeans, and two pairs of "fits well and looks fine." I've had them for a good three or four years-- and they were used when I got them. Now, I have three pairs of "I tried to buy new ones that fit but they shrank in the wash," and one pair of "oh, these are perfect!" And all my old favorites that I finally admitted you can SEE they are getting too small, and in one case indecently full of holes, too. I finally decided that I'd rather look good now than walk around remembering how good I used to look in these jeans, and pulling down the pant legs all the time because they got stuck.
And as my pants shrink, my desire to start that healthy go-to-the-gym-three-times-a-week regiment is sounding better and better. I know I should. It's just hard to find a regular time, or well... anytime that I'd rather be working out than doing what I already have planned.
And no-- I don't think I'm fat or overweight or anything. I do think I'm out of shape, and changing shape, and FOR MY SIZE it would be good not to gain any more of a muffin-top than I already have in the past six months. And I learned a long time ago that there is a huge difference between being skinny, and being healthy. I want to move down to the HEALTHY end of things. I also want to find some jeans that fit well, don't get too small when I wash them, don't gape so big at the rear when I bend over that you could hide your lunch in the waist band, and that don't stretch so much over the course of a day that I can take them off without unzipping at bedtime. I'd also like them to not get stuck on my legs when I crouch down and be easy to button/zip closed. Honestly, I've been looking. For a couple of months now. Good jeans are hard to find.
I've concluded that they may in fact be HARDER to find than a good man. But just to be safe, I'm still testing that theory. I also suspect that my increased pant-size is due in large part to the fact that I no longer live in fear, and no longer work in a fearfully nasty office. I don't worry off the weight anymore, if you know what I mean. Or maybe it's because I'm nearing thirty, and bodies change... Humph.
... sigh ...
Well... I think I'm due for a trip to Ross, Deja Vu, and the gym.
See, I had two pairs of "I love you" jeans, and two pairs of "fits well and looks fine." I've had them for a good three or four years-- and they were used when I got them. Now, I have three pairs of "I tried to buy new ones that fit but they shrank in the wash," and one pair of "oh, these are perfect!" And all my old favorites that I finally admitted you can SEE they are getting too small, and in one case indecently full of holes, too. I finally decided that I'd rather look good now than walk around remembering how good I used to look in these jeans, and pulling down the pant legs all the time because they got stuck.
And as my pants shrink, my desire to start that healthy go-to-the-gym-three-times-a-week regiment is sounding better and better. I know I should. It's just hard to find a regular time, or well... anytime that I'd rather be working out than doing what I already have planned.
And no-- I don't think I'm fat or overweight or anything. I do think I'm out of shape, and changing shape, and FOR MY SIZE it would be good not to gain any more of a muffin-top than I already have in the past six months. And I learned a long time ago that there is a huge difference between being skinny, and being healthy. I want to move down to the HEALTHY end of things. I also want to find some jeans that fit well, don't get too small when I wash them, don't gape so big at the rear when I bend over that you could hide your lunch in the waist band, and that don't stretch so much over the course of a day that I can take them off without unzipping at bedtime. I'd also like them to not get stuck on my legs when I crouch down and be easy to button/zip closed. Honestly, I've been looking. For a couple of months now. Good jeans are hard to find.
I've concluded that they may in fact be HARDER to find than a good man. But just to be safe, I'm still testing that theory. I also suspect that my increased pant-size is due in large part to the fact that I no longer live in fear, and no longer work in a fearfully nasty office. I don't worry off the weight anymore, if you know what I mean. Or maybe it's because I'm nearing thirty, and bodies change... Humph.
Wednesday, August 29
A piece of peace
I've decided that I really like the new Gwen Stefani song-- "If I could escape..."
And I've selected a few relevant photos to match.
Oh-- and H? That word I was trying to think of-- it wasn't "girl-rooms..." it was "Harems." But I think I like the implications of the girl-room better. =) Besides, it's a great excuse to have tons of really awesome throw pillows!
And I've selected a few relevant photos to match.
Oh-- and H? That word I was trying to think of-- it wasn't "girl-rooms..." it was "Harems." But I think I like the implications of the girl-room better. =) Besides, it's a great excuse to have tons of really awesome throw pillows!
Tuesday, August 28
Pass, Fail
This blog entry started out as a retelling of an experience I wrote about for something else entirely. It went from there to an "All I need to know I learned in Kindergarten" moment. I guess in the end, it's all about perspective. Did you pass or fail? Do you chose to celebrate the successes, or mourn all the things you haven't yet accomplished? Are they things you WANT to accomplish in the first place? I don't know. And the mirror doesn't say.
I went to get a new passport yesterday. I had one once, back when I was in high school, and it's hopelessly out of date. I waited in line, got my picture taken (It actually looks better than the photo on my driver's license!), and handed over every scrap of personal information and identification I could find to the stranger behind the counter, including a check I wrote a week ago when I thought I could still get my passport renewed by mail. Then, he left for his break.
What does this have to do with libraries, students, or pretty much ANYTHING? Well... the lady who took his place was shocked-- SHOCKED by how organized I was, and how I had absolutely everything she needed to complete the passport process RIGHT THERE, with the i's dotted and the t's crossed. She told me it was actually a bit freaky. I told her I was a librarian.
If there is one skill a librarian must have, it is the ability to perform detailed research online, and use what we learn for the project at hand. Oh, and by the way, a little tip from me to you-- Put your passport forms, birth certificate, etc in between the pages of a book that is slightly larger than the biggest piece of paper. The book won't bend, and it's less likely to fall open and spill its content than a folder. Also, it comes in handy when you are standing in the passport line for an hour or two while the guy in Bermuda shorts tries to fill out the register in his wife's check book.
I'm getting the passport for two reasons-- one, my best friend (I have several) is getting married in Mexico this winter; and two, it's a smart thing to have ready. Tonight, I went to another best friend's house so we could talk about wedding-appropriate dresses, and maybe even coordinate our dress colors. That turned out to be the shortest part of the whole evening.
The rest of it seemed to be one long reminder of how hard it is to communicate change, and personal growth, in relation to emotional issues. Even to best friends. So whereas I might tell a story because I'm proud of how I handled the situation-- seeing my personal growth in that moment... they hear the story as a big picture of me still dealing with unhealthy situations far too often.
While I know it was their desire to help me have the best possible life, it was frustrating to switch from grim humor and personal pride to "don't get defensive, they might have a good point. Maybe I am still fugged up about this." I thought I was pretty successful at listening with an open mind, too, until it was pointed out that my "be still and listen to the whole commentary" face actually looked like an "I'm so angry at you for even bringing the subject up!" face. Sigh.
And my comment that I'm looking forward to cleaning my closet and finally sorting through the box of "ex-husband reminders" in the bottom left corner became a chance to express their concern that I might either be planning to throw out any and all reminders that once I was married-- TO HIM-- or, conversely, that I was not taking the emotional impact of my plan at all seriously, and ... well... I guess I somehow failed to communicate the part a year ago when I put all that stuff IN THE BOX so I wouldn't just throw it all out, and also wouldn't have to run into it every day and then have emotional breakdowns.
That was a year ago. This is now, when I'm excited about sorting through it and getting rid of the emotional baggage I'd attached to those things. And I want to share my excitement about finally reaching this stage with my friends. I'll probably keep some of the photos, pawn some of the jewelry, and so on, as appropriate. And no, it won't be a walk in the park, but I've grown since I put the box in the closet. I wish I were better at sharing my good moments with my friends-- AS GOOD MOMENTS. I wish I were better at looking the way I feel about things. I wish I knew how to make people believe me, even if they don't understand why what I say is true. I say it because it is my truth-- isn't that enough? But then... of course... so do they.
And for pity's sake--
Why isn't there a reader-board on my forehead that explains the thoughts behind the expressions?!
Why is it so hard to talk about the emotions that motivate my actions?
Why do we need concrete reasons for our actions in the first place-- intuition and self-awareness used to be enough to fly by, you know.
Why do we grow differently from our friends, and why is it sometimes so hard to bridge that gap?
Why are wedding dresses so hard to choose?
And why do I still feel some jealousy all these years later that she has so many people to go dress-shopping with, and I had to pick out mine alone? (it had nothing to do with her, by the way-- and I'm excited to be included in her process, whatever I felt about mine)
For that matter, why did the dry cleaner shrink my favorite prom dress?
And why do cucumbers and pineapple make my tongue swell up when I eat them, but not pickles or oranges?
Remember when you were little, and every little thing you did was not just a reason to be proud of yourself, but a reason for others to celebrate your accomplishments? Why isn't it like that now? Why can't we celebrate drawing our first letters, even if we don't yet know how to read? I've made so much progress lately. I don't live in fear anymore. I don't let others make my decisions for me. I've learned how to overcome my tendency to procrastinate things I don't like doing (somewhat), and I'm learning to be bold about expressing who I really am underneath. Please celebrate that with me, and don't remind me of how much more I have to do. I will never know all there is to know, but I work hard to learn something new every day. Isn't that reason to celebrate? Isn't that enough to pass the "are you really doing okay" exam? I don't see where I am now as failure. I don't want you to see it that way either. But I'm glad you are honest. I'm glad you care whether I fail or succeed. I'm glad we are friends.
I'm not afraid of men or of dating, and I could be. I'm not afraid of living alone or of being divorced, and I used to be. I'm embracing my future and I've even admitted that I like pink, and red. I've learned to be picky about the candles I buy. I may not be good at following a budget, but I give my friends good advice (they tell me this themselves, without bribes), and I know how to love. I try to be the best person I can be-- not just leading a selfish life, but really being a good contribution to the world by the life choices I try to make each day. And... well... in the end, I know my friends are trying to do the same thing.
So I guess what I need to do is go back to counseling. From there, I can figure out either how to communicate my personal growth and my emotions more clearly, or I can figure out what parts of the way I live my life are still fugged up, and fix them, so my friends don't have to worry about me so much anymore. Sigh.
Life is a journey. Thank you for walking with me for a while. I think I learn as much from the way you live your life as I do from the way I live mine. And I know I wouldn't be half so successful in leading a life I love without my friends. ...Even when they point out things I might not want to see. So ...thanks. I guess we passed the friendship test after all.
I went to get a new passport yesterday. I had one once, back when I was in high school, and it's hopelessly out of date. I waited in line, got my picture taken (It actually looks better than the photo on my driver's license!), and handed over every scrap of personal information and identification I could find to the stranger behind the counter, including a check I wrote a week ago when I thought I could still get my passport renewed by mail. Then, he left for his break.
What does this have to do with libraries, students, or pretty much ANYTHING? Well... the lady who took his place was shocked-- SHOCKED by how organized I was, and how I had absolutely everything she needed to complete the passport process RIGHT THERE, with the i's dotted and the t's crossed. She told me it was actually a bit freaky. I told her I was a librarian.
If there is one skill a librarian must have, it is the ability to perform detailed research online, and use what we learn for the project at hand. Oh, and by the way, a little tip from me to you-- Put your passport forms, birth certificate, etc in between the pages of a book that is slightly larger than the biggest piece of paper. The book won't bend, and it's less likely to fall open and spill its content than a folder. Also, it comes in handy when you are standing in the passport line for an hour or two while the guy in Bermuda shorts tries to fill out the register in his wife's check book.
I'm getting the passport for two reasons-- one, my best friend (I have several) is getting married in Mexico this winter; and two, it's a smart thing to have ready. Tonight, I went to another best friend's house so we could talk about wedding-appropriate dresses, and maybe even coordinate our dress colors. That turned out to be the shortest part of the whole evening.
The rest of it seemed to be one long reminder of how hard it is to communicate change, and personal growth, in relation to emotional issues. Even to best friends. So whereas I might tell a story because I'm proud of how I handled the situation-- seeing my personal growth in that moment... they hear the story as a big picture of me still dealing with unhealthy situations far too often.
While I know it was their desire to help me have the best possible life, it was frustrating to switch from grim humor and personal pride to "don't get defensive, they might have a good point. Maybe I am still fugged up about this." I thought I was pretty successful at listening with an open mind, too, until it was pointed out that my "be still and listen to the whole commentary" face actually looked like an "I'm so angry at you for even bringing the subject up!" face. Sigh.
And my comment that I'm looking forward to cleaning my closet and finally sorting through the box of "ex-husband reminders" in the bottom left corner became a chance to express their concern that I might either be planning to throw out any and all reminders that once I was married-- TO HIM-- or, conversely, that I was not taking the emotional impact of my plan at all seriously, and ... well... I guess I somehow failed to communicate the part a year ago when I put all that stuff IN THE BOX so I wouldn't just throw it all out, and also wouldn't have to run into it every day and then have emotional breakdowns.
That was a year ago. This is now, when I'm excited about sorting through it and getting rid of the emotional baggage I'd attached to those things. And I want to share my excitement about finally reaching this stage with my friends. I'll probably keep some of the photos, pawn some of the jewelry, and so on, as appropriate. And no, it won't be a walk in the park, but I've grown since I put the box in the closet. I wish I were better at sharing my good moments with my friends-- AS GOOD MOMENTS. I wish I were better at looking the way I feel about things. I wish I knew how to make people believe me, even if they don't understand why what I say is true. I say it because it is my truth-- isn't that enough? But then... of course... so do they.
And for pity's sake--
Why isn't there a reader-board on my forehead that explains the thoughts behind the expressions?!
Why is it so hard to talk about the emotions that motivate my actions?
Why do we need concrete reasons for our actions in the first place-- intuition and self-awareness used to be enough to fly by, you know.
Why do we grow differently from our friends, and why is it sometimes so hard to bridge that gap?
Why are wedding dresses so hard to choose?
And why do I still feel some jealousy all these years later that she has so many people to go dress-shopping with, and I had to pick out mine alone? (it had nothing to do with her, by the way-- and I'm excited to be included in her process, whatever I felt about mine)
For that matter, why did the dry cleaner shrink my favorite prom dress?
And why do cucumbers and pineapple make my tongue swell up when I eat them, but not pickles or oranges?
Remember when you were little, and every little thing you did was not just a reason to be proud of yourself, but a reason for others to celebrate your accomplishments? Why isn't it like that now? Why can't we celebrate drawing our first letters, even if we don't yet know how to read? I've made so much progress lately. I don't live in fear anymore. I don't let others make my decisions for me. I've learned how to overcome my tendency to procrastinate things I don't like doing (somewhat), and I'm learning to be bold about expressing who I really am underneath. Please celebrate that with me, and don't remind me of how much more I have to do. I will never know all there is to know, but I work hard to learn something new every day. Isn't that reason to celebrate? Isn't that enough to pass the "are you really doing okay" exam? I don't see where I am now as failure. I don't want you to see it that way either. But I'm glad you are honest. I'm glad you care whether I fail or succeed. I'm glad we are friends.
I'm not afraid of men or of dating, and I could be. I'm not afraid of living alone or of being divorced, and I used to be. I'm embracing my future and I've even admitted that I like pink, and red. I've learned to be picky about the candles I buy. I may not be good at following a budget, but I give my friends good advice (they tell me this themselves, without bribes), and I know how to love. I try to be the best person I can be-- not just leading a selfish life, but really being a good contribution to the world by the life choices I try to make each day. And... well... in the end, I know my friends are trying to do the same thing.
So I guess what I need to do is go back to counseling. From there, I can figure out either how to communicate my personal growth and my emotions more clearly, or I can figure out what parts of the way I live my life are still fugged up, and fix them, so my friends don't have to worry about me so much anymore. Sigh.
Life is a journey. Thank you for walking with me for a while. I think I learn as much from the way you live your life as I do from the way I live mine. And I know I wouldn't be half so successful in leading a life I love without my friends. ...Even when they point out things I might not want to see. So ...thanks. I guess we passed the friendship test after all.
Sunday, August 26
Eat It
I've concluded that puking in public parking lots is infinitely more humiliating than puking in the privacy of your own bathroom. I've also concluded that food poisoning sux as much this time as it did last year when I got it (by golly, I think that was in August, too!). And, to top it all off, puke stains are not easy to remove from the fabric of one's car.
On the plus side, I've reestablished my love of and appreciation for food, and I will now be stocking flat soda pop permanently in the back of my fridge, as it is the only thing I've found that STOPS the continued after-effects of food poisoning for me. I also want to thank my good friends, whom I called between frantic jaunts to the bathroom because I didn't have any soda pop, or soda crackers, or baking soda (for the car stains)-- and who called each other, and then eventually LG showed up at my door with half her pantry and a bunch of kids movies to make my life easier. Luckily, her pantry included some sprite and a whole box of soda crackers. I love my friends.
Oh, and my cat's tooth cleaning (and mine, come to think of it) went fine. It was just the drive home that was painful-- because that's when my food poisoning struck. She's fully recovered but for some short fur on her front leg where they had the tubes (you don't clean a cat's teeth when it's awake, thank you very much). I'm able to eat rice and potatoes and vegetables again, and water with no sprite in it, so things are getting better for me, too.
Oh, and classes start again tomorrow. Yay. On the plus side, it is my final semester in my quest for a Masters Degree, and I don't have that one professor this time. YAY! ...bbbboooosssseeee...
On the plus side, I've reestablished my love of and appreciation for food, and I will now be stocking flat soda pop permanently in the back of my fridge, as it is the only thing I've found that STOPS the continued after-effects of food poisoning for me. I also want to thank my good friends, whom I called between frantic jaunts to the bathroom because I didn't have any soda pop, or soda crackers, or baking soda (for the car stains)-- and who called each other, and then eventually LG showed up at my door with half her pantry and a bunch of kids movies to make my life easier. Luckily, her pantry included some sprite and a whole box of soda crackers. I love my friends.
Oh, and my cat's tooth cleaning (and mine, come to think of it) went fine. It was just the drive home that was painful-- because that's when my food poisoning struck. She's fully recovered but for some short fur on her front leg where they had the tubes (you don't clean a cat's teeth when it's awake, thank you very much). I'm able to eat rice and potatoes and vegetables again, and water with no sprite in it, so things are getting better for me, too.
Oh, and classes start again tomorrow. Yay. On the plus side, it is my final semester in my quest for a Masters Degree, and I don't have that one professor this time. YAY! ...bbbboooosssseeee...
Monday, August 20
Bose Bwahahaha
Just in case you were wondering, I promised myself a Bose Stereo if I got all A's in my classes this summer. A truly difficult task because I had that one professor again, for a class with little redeeming value, and lots of quizzes-- and because it was Summermester. As you know, this is when they cram a whole 4-month semester class into the 8 weeks of summer.
Just in case you were wondering, I suffered. Not "my dad died of small pox and I had to take over the farm for my younger brothers, and we didn't have enough to eat because it was the depression" suffered, but ... it was Not Fun. And I didn't have many get-togethers with my friends this summer either, and I felt like a not-good-friend about it, but there is only so much time in a week, and mine was packed.
Just in case you were wondering-- I'll be buying my stereo just as soon as the financial aid check that I was supposed to live off of this summer arrives in September. My grin of mad satisfaction is so big, I look like the Cheshire Cat. I'm even wearing pants with purple stripes in them. =D bbbboooooosssssseeeee.... mmmmmm ...I'm also going to ask my dad to turn all my favorite old tapes into CDs so I can listen to them-- I haven't had a way to play them in about three years. Oh... well, except for in my car-- and I never thought of that. Whoops. Ok. Well. Ahem-- anyway, they'll be much more user-friendly on CD. Yeah.
(in case you were wondering-- the 3BT are the two A's, and the stereo. Also, I'm really looking forward to having more time with my friends again-- and to having that financial aid check finally!-- it feels just like Christmas. Speaking of which, I'm proud to brag that I have now purchased five christmas gifts, and I even know who most of them are for!)
Just in case you were wondering, I suffered. Not "my dad died of small pox and I had to take over the farm for my younger brothers, and we didn't have enough to eat because it was the depression" suffered, but ... it was Not Fun. And I didn't have many get-togethers with my friends this summer either, and I felt like a not-good-friend about it, but there is only so much time in a week, and mine was packed.
Just in case you were wondering-- I'll be buying my stereo just as soon as the financial aid check that I was supposed to live off of this summer arrives in September. My grin of mad satisfaction is so big, I look like the Cheshire Cat. I'm even wearing pants with purple stripes in them. =D bbbboooooosssssseeeee.... mmmmmm ...I'm also going to ask my dad to turn all my favorite old tapes into CDs so I can listen to them-- I haven't had a way to play them in about three years. Oh... well, except for in my car-- and I never thought of that. Whoops. Ok. Well. Ahem-- anyway, they'll be much more user-friendly on CD. Yeah.
(in case you were wondering-- the 3BT are the two A's, and the stereo. Also, I'm really looking forward to having more time with my friends again-- and to having that financial aid check finally!-- it feels just like Christmas. Speaking of which, I'm proud to brag that I have now purchased five christmas gifts, and I even know who most of them are for!)
Heroines, A Quiz
I just took the Jane Austen Heroines Quiz. Fairly accurate. Friggen Funny.
Here's me--
Here's me--
I'm Anne Elliot. Who I totally identified with and loved when I saw the movie, and who has the last name I always wanted, and who even (in a very small way) looks like me. COOL! Of course, I'm not so big on doing things the way my family has always done it or something-- but I am big on doing things the right way, being the good girl, as it were... much the same sense of responsibility and willingness to take on other's problems-- easily persuaded if it might be the right thing to do, don't you know...
So go have fun, take the quiz (thanks, Shana, for pointing it out to me), and let me know what heroine YOU are! =) I tell you, this is better than horoscopes!
http://www.strangegirl.com/austenquiz/
:: A N N E ::
You are Anne Elliot of Persuasion! Let's face it, you're easily persuaded, especially when faced with choices that are or aren't 'the Elliot way.' But this doesn't mean that you don't have conviction. Actually, your sense of duty is overwhelming. And though you won't stick your neck out too often, you have learned to speak up when it counts. To boot, you know how to handle sticky situations. You love deeply and constantly.
Friday, August 10
The Ono Fish
Ummm... so, yeah, it was my birthday yesterday. My goal was to spend a few hours in meditation, thinking about who I am and what I'm doing. It felt like an appropriate time to be doing that. Instead, what seems to have happened, is that I was aware of the way I spent my time during the day. I really thought about what I'm doing with my life in a more "here and now" sense-- because "what I'm doing with my life" isn't about my goals-- it's about each day lived.
And I realized that I get to read books to little kids who smile at me and like to hold conversations with me-- and who are already learning (at the age of 2) how cool the "libbery" can be. I'm very proud of that. I feel it's time well-spent, for all my complaining about the long hours. I realized that filling and emptying the dishwasher is a fact of life, and I posted a quote from one of my favorite blogs--
"Cleaning isn't just an obligation. It's also a way to honor your life, a way to show yourself you're worth that much effort. ...I'm working on that one."
It made me stop and think about all the ways you can honor your life, and how I'm not doing any of them right now. And I decided that I actually am worth the effort, and I actually do want to honor my life. And if that means putting the dirty dishes in the dishwasher every day, then I can do that. And if that means running the a/c for a few minutes so I can brew a cup of tea on a hot day, then I can do that.
And if that means taking the time to finally look up the name/location of a women's shelter so I can donate the rest of the stuff I've decided to get rid of to them instead of Goodwill, and TAKING THE TIME TO DROP THE STUFF OFF THERE, then I can do that, too. I want the file cabinet out of my entry way. I deserve to walk into my apartment without running into things, tripping on things, or knocking things over.
And then I went to one of my favorite stores to meet my family for dinner. I found out that my all-time favorite candle that only they carry and that lasts 50 hours, and has never dripped and made a wax puddle on my floor or my table, and that doesn't smoke, and doesn't tip over, and is just PERFECT because it only costs $5... well, they've discontinued making it. But the nice helper-lady looked at other stores and found 15 of them for me at other stores, and they're being shipped to my home. I figured if this is my last chance to get ahold of my favorite candle, I'm not messing around. Of all the candles I've ever bought, this is the one I keep lighting.
And dinner with my mom, papa, and aunt was great. I had the opportunity to realize that where I come from is a part of who I am. And I finally had a group of people who all go whole-hog with Ottohumor and there was no one there to roll their eyes and be disgusted with us for deciding that hero-ono fish was a super hero who changed his mind, fell (o-no!), and sorta splatted into the water... well, you get the picture. It was fun to be a family for a bit.
And then I got home and had time for myself. That was interesting, too. I was so tired after working ten hours and having quality social time for two hours after that... the one thing that really rose out of my quiet time is that I'm about to be done with school. I'm about to emerge into the world of self-supporting professionals. And in many ways, it will be a rebirth for me. A whole new start in the world, with new goals and new priorities and new lessons to learn. I'm really looking forward to that.
For now, though, I'm going to move through my day with joy, and spend time with good friends. I can't think of a better gift to start my new year than that.
And I realized that I get to read books to little kids who smile at me and like to hold conversations with me-- and who are already learning (at the age of 2) how cool the "libbery" can be. I'm very proud of that. I feel it's time well-spent, for all my complaining about the long hours. I realized that filling and emptying the dishwasher is a fact of life, and I posted a quote from one of my favorite blogs--
"Cleaning isn't just an obligation. It's also a way to honor your life, a way to show yourself you're worth that much effort. ...I'm working on that one."
It made me stop and think about all the ways you can honor your life, and how I'm not doing any of them right now. And I decided that I actually am worth the effort, and I actually do want to honor my life. And if that means putting the dirty dishes in the dishwasher every day, then I can do that. And if that means running the a/c for a few minutes so I can brew a cup of tea on a hot day, then I can do that.
And if that means taking the time to finally look up the name/location of a women's shelter so I can donate the rest of the stuff I've decided to get rid of to them instead of Goodwill, and TAKING THE TIME TO DROP THE STUFF OFF THERE, then I can do that, too. I want the file cabinet out of my entry way. I deserve to walk into my apartment without running into things, tripping on things, or knocking things over.
And then I went to one of my favorite stores to meet my family for dinner. I found out that my all-time favorite candle that only they carry and that lasts 50 hours, and has never dripped and made a wax puddle on my floor or my table, and that doesn't smoke, and doesn't tip over, and is just PERFECT because it only costs $5... well, they've discontinued making it. But the nice helper-lady looked at other stores and found 15 of them for me at other stores, and they're being shipped to my home. I figured if this is my last chance to get ahold of my favorite candle, I'm not messing around. Of all the candles I've ever bought, this is the one I keep lighting.
And dinner with my mom, papa, and aunt was great. I had the opportunity to realize that where I come from is a part of who I am. And I finally had a group of people who all go whole-hog with Ottohumor and there was no one there to roll their eyes and be disgusted with us for deciding that hero-ono fish was a super hero who changed his mind, fell (o-no!), and sorta splatted into the water... well, you get the picture. It was fun to be a family for a bit.
And then I got home and had time for myself. That was interesting, too. I was so tired after working ten hours and having quality social time for two hours after that... the one thing that really rose out of my quiet time is that I'm about to be done with school. I'm about to emerge into the world of self-supporting professionals. And in many ways, it will be a rebirth for me. A whole new start in the world, with new goals and new priorities and new lessons to learn. I'm really looking forward to that.
For now, though, I'm going to move through my day with joy, and spend time with good friends. I can't think of a better gift to start my new year than that.
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