Transitions

This seems to be a big year for transitions. For example, I've moved in with my awesome boyfriend, and I've made some real changes in the way I spend my time and energy. I never thought I'd find a relationship worth compromising for-- but all good relationships require some compromises. I never thought I'd be happy without a solidly planned career path-- but I am. I'm even done with the first fully edited copy of my book. (Of course, it'll go through more changes once I find an agent/publisher.)

And oddly enough, I realized that one of the biggest and toughest transitions we face is death. I know and have known so many amazing and wonderful people-- and in the past few months, so many of them have been faced with the death of a loved one. It's a really tough thing. Hardest for those who remain behind when someone passes on.

Makes me realize that the most important thing we have to give in life is ourselves. Fully, authentically, and gratefully. My loved-ones have always been my number one priority. Today, for instance, I dropped everything and went to visit my wonderful friend Kim, and her 22 year old son, Aaron. He's come home from the hospital for now. And even though the list of things he can't do anymore continues to grow (eat, sleep, swallow, move, talk, breathe...) his sense of humor, and his stubborn determination to LIVE keeps shining through. I am in awe.

It's a difficult thing. Unimaginable. And yet, I know that even good transitions are difficult. Partly because we have to change, but also because we are often afraid of all those unknowns on the other side. I think we Americans are not trained to see change-- to see death-- as anything but fearful and dark. How do we change that? How do we make peace with the irrevocable turning of life's wheel? How do we gain an honest understanding of what we can change, and what we cannot? How do we forgive death from taking away a piece of our hearts?

I don't know. I do know that it has become important to me, over the past few years, to live every day of my life well. To be proud of what I've done, and who I've done it for, and how, and why. Tonight, I'll stay up late working on those emails and work proposals and client projects that I put off today. And it'll be worth it. Because today I spent time with two good friends that I might not get to see tomorrow. I let a mother cry on my shoulder. I participated in the conversation that let her son relive better times, and laugh. Today, I didn't let myself down.

Some people are forced to become adults before they even graduate high school. Some people become adults at thirty, or fifty, or sixty-five. Some people live long lives without ever really having an adult understanding of-- or taking adult responsibility for-- their lives and the lives they touch. It's an interesting transition.

Today, I called my mother on the phone, and cried, so that I could smile and tell funny stories when I visited my friends. And I'll stay up late working so that the other people who are counting on me to do my part and support their professional goals won't be disappointed. I don't want to let them down either.

So here's a toast-- and a hug-- to my friends and family. May you always be one-and-the-same, and may you always know how much I appreciate having you in my life. Whatever else is going on. Because- hey- change is the only constant we have. And the world is such a beautiful place to live.

Growing Up Good

I copied this post from the link below. I'm reposting it here because it gives me so much hope. (Much-needed hope!)
http://community.livejournal.com/library_mofo/1175117.html
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Non-mofo award
I've been meaning to mention this one for a while, but...

To the two-year-old twin girls who come in with their mom, so well-behaved, and clean up the children's area when they're finished playing, and always push in the chairs, and wait until we're done with the patron on the computer before showing us that wonderful book they found this time, that they're so excited about getting to read... Thank you. May you grow up just as wonderful as you are when you visit us...and just as generous.

We actually have a whole bunch of awesome little kids at work, but these two really take the cake. They came toddling in one day with their mom, nearly bouncing, and came up to return their books, and handed us a bag. Inside was the majority of their joint sticker collection. One of the things we've had to cut back on is fun kid-stuff, like coloring/activity pages, and the stickers the kids get at the end of their visit, at checkout. These two little girls visit with their mom regularly, and always ask for a sticker, like the other little ones...so they donated their sticker collection from birthdays and other presents so that everyone could still get one, when they come to the library.

It's Own Self

Funny thing... I stopped trying to guess what would make others happy, stopped trying to control outcomes, and started simply stating my personal preferences directly as the day unfolded... And the outcomes started taking care of themselves. Today has been a wonderful day.

Had an awesome breakfast with GB around lunch time. Ordered what sounded good to me instead of worrying about the price. Acknowledged that I wasn't interested in watching one of his favorite shows-- knowing he can watch it when it replays on Friday. Was therefore not resentful about the time we spent watching TV. Petted cats for a while because they needed to be petted. Felt no need to justify my priorities to anyone.

Cleaned out my entire car in anticipation of lots of family and luggage fitting into it on Friday (yay!). Stopped worrying about identity theft and recycling and finally threw that huge-ass bag of junk mail in the trash. Ate a few bites of ice cream to cool me down. Cleaned out the plastic leftover food containers bin with my housemate like I've been promising to do for the last few months. Now everything that's left has a fitting lid, and the door to the bin actually closes. YAY!!!

Cooked the little organic corns from the food box, and had some really yummy greens (courtesy of my awesome roomie!!) Because I wanted greens, and I've been drooling in anticipation of that corn for nearly a week now... Decided not to stress that GB was late for our double-dinner-date with his friends I'd never met before... Only tried on two shirts in the process of getting ready. (And if I hadn't sweated out the one I had on, I'd have been ready to go just as I was. No more vacillating in front of the mirror as I try to look like the right kind of girlfriend. I'm me. Isn't that enough?!) Decided to send him a reminder text when he still didn't show up because I wanted to know what was going on. Good decision, as he'd gotten sucked into the world wide web, and was totally lost to reality 20 minutes after he'd planned to let me know he was on his way. Decided to read up about healthy relationships while I waited for him to finish getting ready and come pick me up for our double date.

Decided it is his worry and not mine if we are half an hour late the first time I meet his friends. Failed to worry. Had a total blast with GB and his friends at a really yummy bar with fuzzy black wall paper and the Kentucky Fried Colonel's photo in the place of honor over the restroom hallway. Felt just fine eating-but-n0t-drinking in a punked-out restaurant-bar. Had a good conversation about friendship and friends with GB after we took his awesome friends back to their apartment. Kicked him out when I started getting sleepy. Wrote a blog post about my day.

Started the laundry, and went to bed early enough that I won't be tired when I drive out to the Farm tomorrow morning. At least, that's the plan. Really, when I decided to make sure *I* was enjoying my life, life suddenly became so much easier to enjoy!

I think sometimes when you stop struggling to make the flow go your way, and just go with the flow that's already inside you... the rest takes care of itself.

Bang Bang Bang

There has been on-and-off construction on the house next door, and specifically on the roof-patio that looks into my bedroom windows, since I moved in. And apparently, for two years prior to that as well. Now that house, and the one on the other side (ten feet to the right, if you include the upstairs hallway) both have little 2-year-old boys living in them. Bang Bang Bang.

Actually, I was originally going to call this post "In With A Bang," and then I was going to talk all about the Fourth of July, and the total lack of relationship between today's fireworks parties and any sort of leftover patriogtism about the colonists's war with the British. Except, of course, for the fact that everyone was probably drunk and stogned at the signing of the Declaration of Independence (History Channel), and so were most of the fireworks partiers we encountered on Saturday. But seeing as how this is already the 6th, what happened two days and over two hundred years ago... Well it just seems like old news.

SO... to sum up... Humperdink gonna marry Buttercup in a littlelessan khalph-an-hour. And GB and I went downtown and watched the big fireworks display from the bridge, with 50,000 of our closest friends. It was very cool. Bang Bang Bang.

And then the insurance claims dude came to look at GB's bike this morning, and declared it totaled. Which shocked the hell out of everyone, because there's basically some scratching, a dent in the gas tank, and maybe the handlebars are bent crooked, and some lights and a mirror snapped off... but other than that, she was just fine! Wait... when you put it like that... there doesn't seem to be much left undamaged besides the engine. Huh.

Anyway, GB first introduced me to his motorcycle soon after we started dating. "Innt she beauuuuutiful??" So for him to think of trashing her for the insurance money... well, I suspect it feels a bit like a cold-blooded murder. So as soon as the insurance claims dude left, GB called me up, totally upset that the most logical option seems to be agreeing that his baby is totaled, and letting the cold-hearted insurance robots drag her away. Because the truth is that he was just planning to fix her up and sell her anyway. But going against all his carefully organized manly reasoning and well-thought-out acknowledgment of the financial reality, he just doesn't FEEL LOGICAL about it. And in the background, I could hear his fist on the desk... Bang Bang Bang.

There were three other serious examples of "bang bang bang" in my world today, but one was the sound of my head hitting my desk, one is the way Abbigale's sneezes keep getting louder and closer together, and the other was this new and bizarre "Rule of Three" that the nurse practitioner told me about at Planned Parenthood. Somebody should have told me that a long time ago, thank you very much. And honestly, I just don't want to talk about any of them at the moment. Sorry. Bang Bang Bang.

Ways of Being

I had an interesting conversation with a friend this weekend. We talked about the difference between having goals to work toward, and working on new ways of being in the world. She had a pretty convincing argument, so I thought I'd share.

We often talk about our latest goals, or the goal we are focusing on in the moment. Somehow, this places not only our efforts but also our accomplishments outside of ourselves. If you want to earn top ratings in your company this quarter-- whatever your company likes to rate-- that's a goal.

It's you working on something totally separate from your SELF, and with both a goal and a reward that are pretty impersonal. They might give you a year-end bonus that you can spend on a trip to Maui or something... but they don't really change who you are or how hard you'll have to work next quarter if you want the same results. Losing weight, getting up earlier-- these feel like similar goals. Things you can measure by looking at the scale or the clock or the nightly news. Looking outside yourself for both expectation and outcome.

Ways of being are harder to measure, harder to change-- and yet when we do improve our way of being, every aspect of our life gets a little bit easier, clearer, more functional.

Example: Several years ago, I wanted to change my way of being-- I wanted to be healthy. And I really examined what that meant for me. How I would be in the world, and what about my lifestyle or my thought process or my daily activities needed to change in order for me to live in a way that feels healthy to me. And to be honest, I'm still working on it.

I wanted to be pain-free in my body most days. I wanted to be able to lift moving boxes and heavy bags of kitty litter without hurting myself. I wanted to feel that I had a chance of defending myself from harm if I were ever attacked in a dark parking lot at night.

I wanted to feel connected to the Earth. I wanted to be connected to my own feelings and intuition so that I could USE them to keep myself healthy, safe, sane. I wanted to respect myself enough to pay attention to my needs, and work on meeting them. I wanted to get rid of my adult acne, and keep up with my friends on long hikes in the hills without complaint. These, to me, were the measuring sticks of my improved way of being. If I could do these things, I'd be living the life I want to live-- the way I want to be in the world.

So I took time to examine my lifestyle, and look for things I could do with very little money and no health insurance-- to improve my way of being healthy in the world. I started meditating. I read about the root chakra that is our connection to our physical body, to the earth, and to our internalized messages of security and sturdiness. I spent a few minutes every time I realized I was tired, or in pain, or sick, or pissy-- and tried to figure out WHY. What could I learn in that moment about my SELF and my physical needs. What cues had my body given me before I reached this point? Maybe next time I could do something BEFORE I got this tired, this uncomfortable.

I started walking a couple of times a week, looking at trees and birds and clouds when I walked. And I tried to change my sleeping habits so that I got a fairly reliable seven hours of sleep a night. Then eight. Then nine. I really feel rested if I get nine hours of sleep a night. I don't always manage it. And I know most people don't need that much. But I do. And I'm learning to respect my body's needs enough to be healthy. I also realized I had formed an unhealthy dependency on pain killers and sleeping pills to manage my pain from an old car accident.

Some folks do legitimately need medicine, and if you need it? TAKE IT. But so many more of us take meds we don't need because it is easier than dealing with the problem that the meds help us ignore. I decided to consult a doctor friend on the healthiest way to reduce my dependence on my particular prescription medicines. I knew it would be dangerous to stop cold-turkey. Then, I cut my dose by 1/3 on a Friday, so I'd have the weekend to cope. The next Friday, I cut the daily dose in half. And because I was so cranky by then, I told a few people what I was doing so they wouldn't take my attitude personally.

I stayed at that level of dosage for almost a month. This wasn't about meeting a goal. This was about finding ways to be healthy. So I didn't have a set timeline. Instead, I waited until I wasn't so scared by the side effects I had with reducing my dosage. I picked a time when I knew I didn't have to do any driving or anything important for four or five days in a row. And I had some non-chemical pain-management options ready to use. Things my doctor friend had suggested, or that I'd learned about when I studied alternative medicine-- healing herbal teas and yoga for pain and such.

I started on those new things the first day. I stopped taking prescription meds the second day, with an over-the-counter pain med just to ease myself into it a little more. By the third day, I was using pain management techniques, an no pills. By the fifth day, I felt better than I had in years. I know I was lucky to break my dependence so easily. Oddly enough, I have fewer painful days now than I ever did when I was on pain medicine. I get more rest from my sleep, too.

I'm still working on the acne. Managing it requires overcoming my life-long addiction to sugar-foods. But I'm also proud of the progress I've made in listening to my body's needs, and maintaining some sort of regular exercise. And when I exercise, I listen to my body so I don't over-do or re-injure myself. If I start to feel tired, I take iron pills and vitamin C and garlic. I try to manage my body temperature, and give my body extra sleep and extra water to help fight off any virus germs. I'm not sick nearly as often as I used to be. And I feel more alive. More connected to the Earth and to myself. I even keep up with my friends when we hike.

I guess improving my health wasn't so much a goal as a way of being in the world. It wasn't about crazy diets or binge exercising. It wasn't about denying myself or punishing myself. It was about getting to know myself better, and then making informed decisions. It was about learning to accept what my body needs to be healthy-- and not what I think it should need, should look like, should do for me. It was about learning to be compassionate-- at least about my health-- with my SELF. And THAT is one of the hardest lessons for a person to learn. To be good to themselves, without punishment, judgment, or unhappy indulgence.

Anyway, I guess I agree with my friend (PC) that goals are really NOT the same thing as ways of being. As that one song says... "the way you do the things you do..." And it was interesting to think back on that period of my life, and how fugged my health was at that point. How much progress I've made since then.

...YAY ME!

Crashing Into Life

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Snow Daze

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

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

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

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

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

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

Glossy

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

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

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

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



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

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

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

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


....WHEEEEEE.....

Nu Nu Nu

The paint went up on the walls today! Special low VOC paint, in Apple Green. The glass shade on the torchier broke in my car on the way there, too, but that's beside the point. Turns out, somebody has two comfortable chairs sitting in her garage because they need a new home, too. So now they're going to be my client chairs. Awesome, but still not the point. The point is-- tomorrow I finally move into my new office. I'm so excited, I could sing. Loudly. Those old tunes they used to play really loudly at the roller rink on Thursday nights.

:"My-mymymymy Miiiiiyyyyy SHERONA!!... Take me on an- ESSSScaPADE...and Let your Body GOOO with the FLOOO, just do ihhht.... and ROCK around the CLOCK tonight, VOGUE!":

Yeah. THAT excited.

It's the funniest little space, too. The only square corners are where the wall meets the ceiling-- an ugly pock-marked drop-down ceiling with really evil florescent lights in it. Which will soon be covered up by a really nice natural cotton curtain I bought at IKEA. We love IKEA. We also love my new officemate with the two chairs for my clients, and my main officemate whose husband did the painting for me today, and the awesome Apple Green paint. Yes! We do.

So now I'm going to bed. So that tomorrow, when I get up, I'll be ALL SET to move into my NEW OFFICE!!!! YAY!!! (and paint a lot of dark green leaves on the walls and find a way to haul one of my bookshelves from my storage unit to my office and find all my packed books about alternative healing that are somewhere in that storage unit-- hopefully in the same place as my flannel sheets are packed. I'd really like to find a second set of sheets for my bed here sometime.) YAY!!

Heart-Friends

When we were little (especially if we were little in the '50's), we often immortalized our friendships by carving everybody's initials with a heart between-- S.B. -heart- R.O. or I heart Johnny, for example. It was a way of saying we loved someone-- they were a friend of our hearts. It was a hope that we would always have that loving connection in our life.

I have just returned from a retreat. I went there with a friend, I came back from there with many friends. Friends of my heart. It was a very intense process, and yet also very restful. I learned so much from the lessons that others shared with me while I was there-- and I was also able to facilitate the learning of others.

Our blood relatives and our "parents" are often chosen by biology or by someone else's decisions about marriage or responsibility. As children, we rarely have the opportunity to choose our family. Many of us are lucky. We have a parent, or maybe two, who really love us and wish the best for us and work hard to help us grow. Many of us cope instead with adults who hurt us, or who are hurt. As we mature, regardless of what came before, we learn to find folks we can trust outside of our original family.

Often, these people begin as friends, and then we realize that our bond is deeper than mere friendship. We share a connection that is truly special, truly magical. These people become our chosen family-- our "spiritual family," if you will. The folks who love us and who we love as if they have always been a part of our lives, as if they always will be. Understanding that we can create a support network that is stronger (and often stranger) than the family we were born into brings a special kind of freedom with it.

I deeply enjoyed the friendships and experiences of this past weekend. I look forward to our next meeting, whether at an organized retreat or at a local coffee shop. And I know that just because I don't hear from someone I really felt a moment of connection with-- it doesn't mean that I can't appreciate what that moment held. The time I spend with these special people is carved into my heart. Each meeting is a gift, and all the distance in between visits can never take that gift away from me.

As the old saying goes: Merry Meet, Merry Part, and Merry Meet Again.

TTYL

I got a call from my mom yesterday, a little after 4pm. She and some other favorite family of mine were planning to meet for dinner at 6-- in a restaurant about an hour's drive away. Could I make it?

It turns out that doing my dirty stinky dishes wasn't as important as visiting with my folks after their trip to Michigan for my cousin's wedding-- and getting to see my aunt who is slowly dying from breagst cancer in her bones, and her husband, my favorite uncle. So I went. And it was really good to be there. But it was also strange. It seems that spring is the season of divorce. Between them, they knew of at least five couples going through separation and/or divorce just now. I added another to the list. And they treated me like an equal when I talked to them about realizing that there's this pattern that many of us seem to follow in a divorce: We immediately get struck with this need to date-- to prove that we're desirable and that we're wanted. We'll date just about ANYBODY in this phase of things, if they show an interest.

And, strangely, we often go out with people who are very similar to the one we just divorced. At this stage, we either seem to get so stuck on the need to have SOMEBODY in our lives that we get married again-- to someone just as bad for us-- or we realize that we DON'T want to end up with the same old problems in yet another new relationship. And we withdraw from dating for a while-- until we can figure out who we are when we stand by ourselves, and where we actually stand. Figure out what about ME needs to change before I try to be an us again, and set some damn high standards for the next person I allow into my life on such an intimate level. Realize that if someone who meets or exceeds those standards doesn't come along, I'd be happier alone.

It felt like a warm hug that my family could understand, and respect that awareness-- and maybe worry less about my not dating yet. Even after two years of being divorced. I just haven't met anyone that seemed worth the effort yet. And I won't accept the kind of unhealthy unhappy unequal relationship I had before-- not now. Not ever. (Knock on wood.)

And it was nice to stand around talking with everyone in the parking lot after dinner. My uncle hadn't seen my new car (post-accident in December) yet, and really liked what he saw. My mom and dad enjoyed hearing about my booth at the Spring Fair (Pagan Faire) last month, and telling me how they laughed about my blog post (I write for a library magazine) that explained my revelation that "I am not Cinderella." And we had a good talk about how life is supposed to be hard, and it's that way for everyone. How it does take a while to get established on your own, and how nice it is to have family there with you while you take those first steps into the real world. Or even your fifth or sixth step.

For all my complaints, I do love my family. It was nice to have some special time with them last night. Now, I just have to find the will-power to do my dishes on this warm sunny morning, when all I really want to do is go for a hike and read brain-candy books on the back porch!

I Need You, Larry!

It's been a strange day. I planned to be up around 7:45am, writing in my journal, preparing for my noon interview with a university back east, cleaning up the stuff I displaced when I finally bought more shelving because I couldn't stand to have all that stuff in a pile on the floor...

Instead, I finally woke up around 9:3oam, to the yowling of the (either highly intelligent or somewhat suffering from altzeimers) cat upstairs. He's 19, and stiff, and somewhat lost at times. But he knows he likes sunshine, kitty treats with glycocemine, and people. In that order. As a side note, I'd just like to mention that spell-check does not have either altzeimers or glycocamine in it, and therefore I have no bloody clue how to spell them. Grow with Love, dammit. Up to this morning, he's only yowled like that when someone forgot he was outside, and left the house without letting him back in. Or, when they left the house without letting him back in, and he didn't realize they'd propped the door open so he could get back in on his own.

This morning? He yowled because he wanted someone to come pet him, and he's come to realize that if he yowls, and I know no one is home upstairs, I come running upstairs. I tried all three upstairs outside doors (in my nightgown, freezing my tucas off) before a little "prrrt" from my neighbor's bedroom lead me to finding him quite calmly stretched out on the bed, waiting to be petted. Huh.

I had the interview at noon. It went fairly well, though I forgot to ask an important question or two-- and the whole thing only lasted about 20 minutes. Huh. Sounds like a fun position to learn and grow in, really. There in the middle of the back-country Pennsylvania with 800 students, one other librarian, and me. If I get the job. And, strangely enough, YET AGAIN, my having a background relating to the military (I was married to it for several years) was a bonus. Apparently, this library has a LOT of Vets for students. Resistance is, apparently, futile.

By the time the interview ended, I was shaking. And I don't remember doing that after past interviews. Quite possibly, I blocked it from my memory so that I could be up-beat about having MORE interviews. Anyway, from that point on, everyone I came into contact with was justifiably grumpy about something in their lives that I have no ability to help them fix. It was very disempowering, really.

And then I managed to get my energy and excitement up for my long-awaited once-monthly Journaling Group (I totally choked last month and only remembered I'd forgotten to go about five days after the fact-- not pretty, especially since I'd arranged to meet someone before the group meeting last month. Oops. ....I think I was reading a book...)--- My Journaling Group ROCKS-- but it's hard to wait a whole month between sessions. And then I got totally lost trying to find my way there from a new direction-- after my upstairs neighbor had even TOLD me how to get there by making a total of two turns-- and I still got lost. TWO TURNS, people!! So, there I am, not the 20 minutes early I'd intended to be, frantically searching for parking.... hoping the place I parked is actually legal to park in after 6pm (before 6pm, it's a loading zone)... RUNNING up to the door...

And it's canceled due to a death in the family. I ache for the family. I really do. But I also have this feeling of inevitability that I've probably gone to my last session of that Journaling Group-- three months ago-- and I didn't even know it. Driving away from the building (no parking ticket in the five minutes I was parked there, thank goodness!), I felt really just DOWN about things. I could actually feel myself falling into a blue funk, and I was kinda pissed about it, to be honest. And me feeling both pissed AND funked is not a friendly sight. Really. Right up there with hung-over walruses and snot-nosed over-tired toddlers and parole officers who run into their charges while on vacation and things. Not Friendly.

So I went to H Street. Where I've had other fun adventures, thinking maybe MAYBE something there would still be open after 7pm on a Tuesday to cheer me up. Maybe. And it turns out that not a whole lot is open after 7pm on a Tuesday. But the ice cream shop and the bookstore are open until 9pm, so hey. Life can't be THAT bad, right? I chose to stop at the book store first. And went in. And found the "travel adventure" section. And picked up a book about a Native Alaskan woman Hero. Who, it turns out, died in poverty, suffering from four broken marriages, TB, and a lot of really bad press from the families of these white men she went into the Arctic wilderness with back in the early 1900's-- and two years later, after nearly starving to death with a sick member of the expedition who was left behind due to lack of food, she was the only one who made it back to civilization. Ever. Ummm... not exactly the pick-me-up I'd been looking for.

By then, even Ice Cream had lost it's appeal, and I felt like spending money frivolously was bad... and so... I headed home. In a grumpy blue funk, with an unhealthy side of guilt and depression brought on by this stupid book. But somehow, I just could NOT go back into the house with this big blue depressive grumpy funk on my shoulders, and the cure had to happen for under $5 and not be too fattening. So I stopped in at this awesome gourmet little corner store about a mile past my little apartment. They have the best of all things that you might possibly think a corner store should have, at a price to match the rather haughty location. I mean hand-dipped designer candles in all twelve shades of green, and specialty chocolates, and organic produce, and not-quite-cuban cigars, and ... all of it in this little corner store. So I go in there, hoping to find something that will cheer me up, and I wander around, and wander around, and wander around, and...

Suddenly, over the PA system, comes a man's sturdy voice:
If anybody needs anything, just page Larry. I'm available.

... Huh.
...maybe I need to page Larry...

And just that quickly, my funk and my grump and even my guilty depression are GONE!
I love you, Larry.

About two seconds later, someone did come on the PA, and make it clear that
"I need you, Larry!"

And about a minute after that, the PA came to life yet again, with a man's sturdy voice:
If anybody REALLY needs anything, just page Larry. I'm available.

...Larry, you ROCK!!! I went and found myself a little pack of dark chocolate M&Ms and a nice ocean-mist-blue tapered candle, (all for under $5) and headed home with a big goofy smile on my face. Life is good, dammit. All it needed was Larry.

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!!

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!

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.

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!!

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

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.

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!)

Has it All

Driving home from work yesterday, saw a big macho truck.
And this truck had every macho or cool thing the owner could think of.
-It was jacked up.
-It was black.
-It had a skull and crossed bones sticker on the tailgate.
-It had steer antlers.
-It had a shark fin.
-It had the stickers that look like bullet holes.
-It was pretty funny to see ALL the gimmicks on one vehicle!

The little boy I nanny put in a special request for books about trains and airplanes from the "libbery" this week. He was so thrilled yesterday when I BROUGHT THE BOOKS!! Sat right down and flipped through each of them. I just love that.

The little girl took her first two steps yesterday!!! I called mom right away and told her about it, even though she was at work. She was so thrilled! Who knows how long it'll be until the next steps happen, but that was just SO COOL!!!