Linnea's Quill

A Choice

2011-05-08T22:53:00.001-07:00

I knew that today was going to be a rough day, being the first Mother's Day without my mom. Mother's Day for the past few years had already been hard for me, because it meant another year of seeing people around me celebrating the gift of motherhood which is something that I have been wanting so desperately and fear that will never come. This year I knew that part would still be there, in the back of my mind, but that mostly it would just be crappy in general because I no longer have someone here to celebrate. I know that I can celebrate her anyway, but it's just not the same. It has been building for a couple of weeks as the e-mails and television commercials and billboards advertising mothers day specials have been growing exponentially. My emotions had been mostly peaceful prior to this last couple of weeks, but I knew that it was going to change.
I considered staying at home, isolating myself, but I made a choice. I decided that it was better to go and cry with my chosen family, than to sit at home and cry alone, or even worse, to hide everything away for the sake of my birth family. It turned out to be a very good choice. Yes, seeing everybody with their mothers, hearing them talk about their mothers, was painful. But acknowledging that pain will only make me stronger. I know that even though my mom is not here anymore, she would still want me to be happy. Now I just have to convince myself that being happy, having joy, does not mean that I don't miss her. The choice now it to continue mourning life without her or to celebrate who she was and who she has helped me to become. I think I choose the latter.

Letter to Me

2011-05-02T09:56:00.000-07:00

It is funny that I should feel so bored and discontent most days, because there truly is a lot going on most days, and I really have accomplished a lot in the last year. The purpose of this post is mostly to remind myself so that I can be encouraged and reminded that I am capable of most anything I set my mind to, as long as my heart is in it. It takes the form of a letter to myself, and since probably nobody except for me will read it, it shouldn't be too awkward... :)

Dear Jeni,
Here are the things that you have done in the last year that you can be proud of:
1) You survived. Plain and simple. Despite devastating loss, you muddled through and became a stronger person for it. You are a fighter, and don't let yourself think otherwise.
2) Your first act of keeping a commitment to yourself - the 60 day yoga challenge. Yes, it seems like so much more than a year ago, but really, that's all it's been since you were getting rolling on that. You stuck to it - took the time for yourself every day. It's time to find something and do that again. You are worth it.
3) National Novel Writing Month - This was the seventh or eighth year that you've started something with the goal of writing 50,000 words in a month and this time you made it. Now, you just have to set aside some time to finish the story that you started. Your heart desperately wants to finish it, and there is no reason to be afraid. Even if you cannot sell your novel, you'll still have written one. Finish this one, then move onto another. And another. It is your dream and your heart and you will not ever know how many lives might be touched by your writing if you never put it out there, if you never try.
4) Who knew that you could become a runner? All of your previous attempts involved alternating running and walking, but once you learned that it was okay to run slow, that you didn't have to be ashamed that you weren't the fastest, you found your groove. So you don't run fast enough to be considered competitive, but right now you're just competing with yourself. You have worked your way up to 6 miles, which is so exciting- 6 miles without walking really is something to be proud of, no matter what the lies in your head try to tell you. Now it's time to get in gear and start working your way up to 13.1. I know right now, September seems pretty far off, but if you delay, it will be here in the blink of an eye and you will be unprepared. Remember. You can do it.
5) You have taken a leap of faith and completed the paper work necessary to get pre-approved for a home loan. I know that it is unnerving waiting for an answer, but have faith. Have faith that God will take care of you no matter where this journey leads. Have faith that God knows what is best for you and that His timing is perfect. If this doesn't work out, it just means that the time isn't right. And if there is work to be done before you can be approved, you can do it. You can pay off your student loans.
6) You have ventured out into the world of dating again. So the ventures have been completely unsuccessful, but you have held tight to your values. It would be so easy to settle for someone just so you could have someone, but God has promised you the best and you will not settle for less. You are strong for holding out for what you know is right, for not compromising on the things that are important, and because of this, when the time is right, your marriage and your family will be a success. I know it is hard to believe this when you're watching everybody around you build the family you desperately desire, but when the time comes, it will be so much more precious, so much more valuable because of your wait. You will be rewarded for your patience.

Please know that you are so much stronger, so much more talented, so much more loved than you give yourself credit for. Never forget that when you let your passion for life take over, you can do anything, you can be anything. You are a representative of God and with that you have a responsibility to live life to the fullest. That means not hiding in corners or holing up in your apartment like a hermit. It means taking care of yourself so that you can take care of others and it means getting out there and loving the people you encounter. It is true that some people are jerks, but chances are the thing they need most is love, so think about that before you retort back in an equally jerk-like fashion.
You are loved, therefore you must also love. Love yourself (but not in an egotistical sort of way) and love all who you come in contact with, even if they don't deserve it. That's not your call.

May God's love be with you,
Jeni

What happened to my heart?

2011-04-30T07:24:00.000-07:00

We'll just say that this last year has done a real number on it-- and along the way, it seems to have gotten lost. I am still aware of it. I know that it's there--it reminds me when I experience a particularly harsh disappointment--but it's almost like I'm trying to ignore it, to numb it. And in the process I've lost all discipline for taking care of myself. Yes, I still go to work because other people expect me to be there, but my heart isn't in it. I still go to the gym with my day, because he expects me to be there, but I don't put the effort in anymore. I don't care what I eat, or how messy my apartment gets. My head knows that all of these things are a problem, but it can't convince my body or my heart to do anything about it.
I feel like I've been losing touch, like I've been trying so hard to just get through, to just get by, and in the process, I've stopped depending on God, and I've stopped depending on the people I love, and this is why everything is falling apart. I know that I need to allow my friends to come beside me and help me. I know that I need to ask for help sometimes, but at some point I started to feel like a burden, like a drain, like I should be moving on and not needing help and comfort anymore. But it's not true. I still need help. I spend too much time alone, and I know it's not good for me, that it's death for my spirit, but I don't do anything about it. This past week, I was talking to a friend and I told her that if I didn't have commitments, I could go the entire week without talking to anybody aside from my co-workers and my dad. I told her that between weekends, a meaningful conversation with my friends was rare. She looked at me like I was crazy-- like I was making this up, because in the real world this sort of thing just doesn't happen. And I love her for the wild-eyed optimism that allows her to feel shock that such a thing could happen. And I love her for stepping beside me and offering to help with part of the repair work that needs to be done in my life.
In the mean time, I'm not sure if the isolation I'm struggling with right now is entirely my fault, as it has been in the past. I feel like I'm making more effort than in past periods of isolation, but it's really hard when everyone else is seeing their lives fall into place while mine is just falling apart. Priorities change, relationships shift. It happens, and I know it's a constant. I love all of my friends and I know that each of them was placed in my life for a specific reason, but sometimes it feels like I don't fit anymore. I am happy for their progress, for their success in life and relationships, I just can't help feeling excluded. I celebrate with them when we're together- but when I've alone, the chasm I'm looking across seems to be getting bigger every day.
I know that lately, I've been trying to build my own bridge, to figure out my own way to get across. And I know that this is part of the problem, because I cannot build a bridge that size on my own. For that, I need a carpenter...

My Neglected Blog

2011-04-25T18:02:00.000-07:00

My blog has been rather neglected, and after last weeks excursion back into emo poetry, I'm thinking that it may be time to return to my blogging, whether anybody reads it or not... I'd prefer they did, but if not, at least I still have a place for my emo thoughts to go.
So right now, I'm reflecting on Easter weekend and all that went on. The processing and such began on Friday when I suffered another disappointment in the dating (or lack there of) department. It really wasn't that big of a deal, but since I'm still not used to having my main support for this sort of thing, it became a big deal, but just for the day.
Saturday was busy, packed with activity from 7 am - 11pm, but it was enjoyable. Attempted to participate in a conversation in which my last dating potential disappointment was involved. It felt very awkward, but I didn't run away like I have been, so I guess it's progress. Then Saturday night I had a dream about the awkwardness and confronting it. The reality of the matter is that confronting the awkwardness would probably just create more awkwardness than just letting it pass, but in my dream, we had a conversation about it and he admitted to knowing that what he did was going to hurt me, but he didn't really know what to do about it. This left me feeling like I really did just want him to have what was best for him, but still it's hard to be around the whole thing. Whatever. No more dwelling on that.
Then Sunday morning, many people that I talked to told me that they had no idea that I could perform, that it was a completely different side of me. And then I realized something-- not entirely new, but something that I thought I'd moved past-- the reality of me is that I still feel more comfortable playing a character; putting on a facade. It's so much easier to share the hard things that have happened when I tell it in third person. The people who know the real me truly know all of me because they can see past that character, past the facade, but everyone else is willing to accept the character as who I am.

Finding Hope

2010-08-30T21:54:00.000-07:00

Hope is something that is a recurring theme in my life right now. The reality is, there is just a tiny pinhole of light in an otherwise dark time in my life, and that tiny pinhole of light is what keeps me going. I sometimes find myself feeling like there is nothing but darkness, but fabulous Noel and her hope quotes on Facebook keep directing me back to that little drop of light in the distance. The quote that sticks in my mind and pops into my head several times every day right now is the one that says “Hope is the feeling that the feeling you have isn't permanent." Knowing that this despair, pain, grief, and emptiness cannot last forever is the only hope I have right now.
I feel like a bucket that is always full to the brim, and dropping even just the tiniest thing in sends the tears rushing over the edge. I've always been a naturally emotional person anyway, but this is far beyond that. The thing I want the most is someone to hold me while I cry and to tell me that things will get better. But I'm still missing that, because the person who used to do that for me is gone. I don't know who should be filling that spot right now- I haven't figured it out yet.
I have been blessed by a few really good friends who are by my side as I make my way toward that tiny bright spot in the distance. They know who they are, and I hope they know how much I truly love and appreciate them.
In other ways, some things never change, though I hope they will. I still feel like I work hard at the things that I do and see very little difference for all of the hard work. I still wish that I was more talented at the things that I'm passionate about. I still desperately desire a family of my own. Only now, I sometimes feel like a failure and a disappointment because my mom never got to see me accomplish my dreams or find my greatest desires. My head knows that this is a lie, but my heart is cruel. This is the first time I've actually shared these thoughts- the ones where I feel like I let my mother down because I wasn't able to give her the grandchildren she wanted more than anything. Because I never got to prove to her that my dreams really could come true. Because I never got to take her to the places she wanted to see. And I never really got to take care of her instead of her taking care of me.
These thoughts have the potential to overtake me, to drown me. The only thing I can do is keep clinging to my life raft and hope that the storm will calm down soon so I have a chance to swim back to solid ground. There is hope in knowing that ten years ago, the person I was could not have survived this storm. The person I was ten years ago didn't have a life raft to cling to- the person I was ten years ago did not have Jesus. That is hope.

Working Through...

2010-06-13T22:02:00.000-07:00

This has been a period of time for me where I'm working through a lot of stuff. I'm trying to learn to value myself enough to keep the commitments I make to myself. I'm trying to find contentment with the family that God has given me even though it looks nothing like the family I thought I'd have by now. It's been challenging. I'm used to making excuses for myself, finding reasons why I can't do the things I want to do- I don't feel well... I have this other thing to do... I am just too tired... So doing the same thing that I want to do every day for sixty days has been a healing process. And as far as the family goes-- I'm lost on how to deal with that challenge. Every time I turn around, there's another person close to me starting on their journey to start their families. I am overjoyed by the thought of having additions to the family God has blessed me with, and yet it is a challenge because it means that I am watching up close and personal as my friends are blessed with the things I have been waiting patiently (and sometimes not so patiently) for a good number of years. I am daily seeing the joy they are experiencing and trying to be content while I wait for my own joy. But it's not always as easy as just knowing...

Today I was hoping to talk to someone about all of this junk, and instead I ended up crying more as I discovered that even more of the people who have invested in me and loved on me even when it seemed like nobody cared will be moving on to something new. I am, again, happy for them as they move forward in their journey of life, but I am also sad. The past year of time has seen many of the people who invested in me move away or leave for other reasons, and while some of them are still in contact and loving me and encouraging me, others don't even offer so much as a hello on Facebook anymore, and that has hurt quite a bit. I'm afraid of this happening with more friends, more family as they go off in new directions. I know that I should not be afraid, but I don't want to slide back into being the person who hides in the corner and waits for people to notice me. I feel myself slipping back in that direction sometimes and I'm not sure how to stop it when it feels like I'm starting all over again-- investing in new relationships with people who have not yet grown to know and love me as I am.

After all of this ick today, and processing, I really didn't feel like doing anything. Of course I went to yoga, because it would be stupid to give up with just five days to go and for such a petty reason. So I went and hoped that since I'd only had one other class with this teacher that she wouldn't notice me- that I could just blend into the background and get it over with. But that is not what happened. Instead this teacher commented on my postures throughout the class, which made me want to work harder. After class she commented some more. Also, several other people offered encouragement to me as I get close to completing my 60 day challenge. It made me feel a million times better to know that people see the hard work that I put into something that I am doing. It made it clear to me that people see it in other parts of my life, too-- It's just me that doesn't always see it, that doesn't always recognize that the things that I am doing really are a big deal in some way. I tend to downplay the things I do, like they don't really matter, rather than being excited for what I have accomplished. As I said, I am learning. I am moving forward in my own way. And the things that I do are important in their own ways.

Stagnant

2010-06-09T22:40:00.000-07:00

I thought that accomplishing something would fill something that was lacking in my life. And in a way it has. I really am learning to value myself enough to keep my commitments to myself. It really is a good thing. But in another sense I feel like it hasn't changed anything. While I'm valuing myself in my own life, I still feel like I'm standing still while everything moves and changes around me. I am seeing friends and family members all around having their dreams come true- weddings, babies, graduations, careers, all of it. And here I am living- every day the same as the one before. Nothing bad happening, which is a blessing, but nothing good either. Just the same old stuff, different day.
I am struggling to find peace with God's timing. I know in my head that His timing is perfect and if things aren't happening for me, it's because it's just not the right time yet. But my heart is impatient after all of these years that I've been waiting for my turn.
The other day after my yoga class, one of the other students asked if I was writing about my experience working toward completing 60 classes in 60 days. She'd heard that I was a writer (I'm not quite sure how) and she thought it would be a good thing to write about. I was ashamed to admit that it hadn't really occurred to me. I suppose writing will be the next commitment to myself that I need to work on keeping while I'm waiting for God's timing to bring me a family to love.

I May Be Crazy

2010-05-13T19:52:00.000-07:00

If you're reading this and don't already know about my latest venture, I'll fill you in. On April 19, I started a 30 day challenge of Bikram yoga. In other words, I go to class every day for thirty days. The classes are 90 minutes long and consist of the same 26 postures every time. The best part... The class is done in a 105 degree room... Very exciting. So anyway, today was my 25th day and it feels great to be accomplishing something. I'm trying to focus on the positives I've experienced even though I sometimes feel frustrated that I'm working so hard and not seeing much change in my body. I'm sure it will come. In the mean time, I have finished 25 out of 30 days and I think I'm going to expand it to 60 days. Like I said, I may be crazy. If anyone would like to join me, I'd love the company! :)

Dumpy day

2010-05-05T19:16:00.001-07:00

I am here because I feel dumpy today. I feel like no matter how hard I work at anything, it always amounts to nothing. My head knows that it's not true, but it is how I feel. I'm feeling discouraged right now because nothing ever seems to go right. I know that working towards accomplishing something is a good thing- that setting and meeting a goal will help me feel better about myself, but I still feel like it's not enough. I want to be healthy. I have been trying for quite a while to get myself there, and every time I think that I'm on my way, something else comes up and I just never seem to get there. I know that I'm fortunate because there are people who have much bigger problems than I do and all of that jazz, but it doesn't keep me from being discouraged because I just don't ever get any answers and if there are no answers then there are also no solutions. I haven't felt GOOD in quite a long time. I'm not sure if I'd recognize the feeling anymore if I ever did. Most days I feel OKAY, not good, not bad, just here and it's much better than feeling bad, so I guess in a way it's good... But I want to wake up some morning and be able to say to myself, "I feel good."

Eh, enough emo-y goodness from me. Back to the rabbit hole...

Taking control while giving it over

2010-01-18T18:54:00.000-08:00

2009 was a tumultuous year that left me feeling like I was tumbling downhill over and over again. For the most part, I was happier than I've been over any year in the past. This doesn't mean I didn't have my emo moments, but I was much less depressed over all than any other year. This is a good thing. But as my emotional health has been improving, my physical health has been doing the opposite. Nothing horrific or catastrophic has happened, but the reality is, I haven't really felt GOOD for a long time. Mostly a general blah. I've spent the better part of the last year trying to track down a reason for it and have been poked, prodded and processed more than the rest of my life combined. And as of now I have 4 different answers and nothing to really concretely tie it all up in a neat little package. But I guess the reality is that life doesn't ever happen in neat little packages, so I'm not sure why I expected this to be any different.
I've mostly been quiet about the whole process except for a select few who have been kept in the loop along the way because I really just don't want to seem like a drama queen-- and because as I said, nothing horrific or catastrophic, so there's no point in drawing too much attention to something that is really nothing more than a horrible inconvenience. Occasionally a facebook status update or a comment here and there might give it away that I don't feel so great, but for the most part this has just been something for me to deal with and get through and that's all there is to it. The problem with this, is that I haven't been really giving it over to God to handle. I mean, sure-- I prayed about it-- that there would be nothing wrong, that somebody would give me an answer, that there would be a simple thing that I could do to make things better, whether it was eliminating a specific food/food group or a pill that would instantly make it all go away, even that something even worse would happen so that I could just get an answer already-- but I never really gave it over. I spent so much time dwelling on it that I let it take control. I was letting discomfort and fear control my life and in the process was missing out on a lot of life.
The reality is, I still don't have a solid answer. I don't know if I ever will--most things are normal, just a bunch of little things that aren't-- but it's not really my problem to worry about it. I'm not saying I intend to ignore things that my body may be trying to tell me, but I am saying that I can't spend every day worrying about it, letting it dictate what I will and won't do. If I let it control me and stop living, then it is a certainty that I will acquire everything that I'm already at risk for because of my mom's history on top of whatever my own issues may be.
So the plan for now is to do what I need to do to be as healthy as I can be and to know that God will give me the strength to do it. First off- I'm starting to run again-- because brisk walks in the park and the Gazelle in the living room aren't cutting it, and because I want to accomplish something. I'm setting a goal of running the 10K in May with my co-worker. So far I've done two runs, and they were not nearly as difficult as I thought they would be. Second-- I'm going back to doing Bikram yoga. The plan is to go once a week. There are several reasons for this part of the plan: For some variety in my workout routine, because it feels good, but especially because it is something that I might just be good at someday because I'm pretty flexible naturally-- and I need something in my life that I'm good at. The third part may be the most important-- only time will tell-- but I'm going to ask my doctor to refer me for a nutritional counseling program to help me figure out what foods are going to work for me and what ones aren't, but more importantly how to make sure that I'm getting everything I need when I'm excluding certain foods from my diet. I've been eating a lot of the same sorts of things over and over again and I know that I'm not getting everything, but I haven't quite worked out what is going to disagree with me, and most of the time it's easier to just stick with what I know is safe than to try something new and then have to worry (I know I'm not supposed to do that) about what it's going to do to me. I am a work in progress, and I am trying to take control of the choices I have been given by God, and leaving all the rest for Him to carry for me. I know that I can't carry it all, and trying to will just leave me weighed down so much that I won't be able to move. So, God, please take these burdens from me. Take the worry, take the fear, point me in the direction of the choices you'd like me to make and give me the strengh to make those choices everyday.

Christmas Weekend So Far

2009-12-26T22:25:00.000-08:00

Ah, what an eventful weekend after an equally eventful couple of weeks-- and not all in a good way. It started out last week when I spent the entire week feeling crappy and losing weight. Now don't get me wrong, I'm all about losing weight and I'm glad that I can now fit in a smaller pant size, but it really was not pleasant. When all was said and done, I ended up losing 9.6 pounds in a week. Now that I'm able to eat properly again, I've gained back two of those pounds. It seems that the problem was caused by the antibiotics I'm taking for Small Intestine Bacterial Overgrowth, which is the fourth answer that I've received since April and it is still undecided whether all of these things can be tied together in some way, or if they are all separate. So the antibiotics made me super-sick for a week and I have four more months where I need to take them for a week. We shall see how this goes.
So, just as I was starting to feel a little bit better and able to eat somewhat normally, my mom got the fabulous cellulitis infection right before Christmas. She went to get it checked it out on Sunday and they gave her antibiotics, which apparently did not help because it got worse instead of better and spread so they put her in the hospital for the night so that they could treat it with intravenous antibiotics. There was the possibility that she'd have to stay until Christmas Eve, but since it improved in 24 hours she was able to go home on Wednesday instead.
So Thursday, Christmas Eve, I had to work. We had been given the option of working longer days at the beginning of the week then only working 1/2 day on Christmas Eve, but I don't like going to work early because 7:30 is already early for me, so I opted not to. Most people took the 1/2 day on Thursday, so after 11am there were only 3 people still working in my department. My co-worker across the aisle put on Elf on his PSP and we listened while we worked. In the evening, I went to my aunt's house for the traditional Christmas Eve celebration. Every year my uncle (who is more like a sibling in maturity) and I provide entertainment by singing Christmas carols, sometimes in funny accents. He was also in theatre at UNR, so he enjoys performing as much as I do. My other uncle dresses up as Santa even though the youngest person there is 11 years old. And we eat lasagna every year. This has become a problem-- I really like lasagna, but lasagna doesn't like me. But I ate it anyway. And it didn't hurt me too much... After we left my aunt's house, we picked up Smokey and went to my parents' house and went to bed.
Christmas Day was much more busy than usual, but not in a bad way. We started off the morning with coffee at Starbucks (actually, soy chai for me) with my half-sister and her new husband and my nephew. Next, we picked up my grandma (the one who's not so nice) and went to breakfast at Black Bear Diner. I had a chorizo scramble which was quite tasty. After that, my parents wanted to take my grandmother out to the casino to gamble. Since I am really not a huge fan of the casinos, I went to the movies while my parents and grandmother went gambling. Yes, I went to the movies alone on Christmas. I love going to the movies alone AND I love going to the movies on Christmas, so it worked out quite well. I wanted to see Sherlock Holmes, but the next show time was over an hour away, so I went to Up in the Air instead. I was disappointed at first, but after seeing the movie, the disappointment dissipated. It was funny and sad all at once. It made me feel both content and depressed with my own life. It made me think about what's really important in life. After the movie/gambling, we were invited to dinner at my half-brother's house in Ferntucky and asked to bring dessert. So we went to the store to pick up ingredients for dessert and went back to my parents' house to make the dessert which was a cream cheese pudding pie. For dinner at my bro's house we had turkey, corn and macaroni and cheese. It was fun spending time with them, but the reality is I made very bad food choices which made it difficult to fully enjoy the evening. I really need to stop doing that. After dessert, I spent the remainder of the evening feeling crampy and tired, but I still had fun with the family. When we got back to the house, I crashed almost immediately.
This morning when I woke up, I got one of the books that I'd gotten for Christmas and went back to bed to read for a little while. We had breakfast, did some laundry and then went out to do some shopping. At Costco I got a beautiful Asian and Thai cookbook that has pictures of every single recipe. I really love Asian food because they use almost no dairy and very little wheat. I can't wait to try some of the recipes in the new pots and pans I got for Christmas. We then went to Starbucks with my brother and his... um... well his "friend"... Yeah, we'll just call her that. The rest of the evening was fairly uneventful. French dip sandwiches for dinner, finishing the laundry and Jeff Corwin's show on food network. Now I am home and I think it is almost time for bed. I think I shall take Smokey, my book and myself and head for the bedroom. :)

In most families, I'd be the weird one, but in this family, I'm the normal one...

2009-12-19T07:58:00.000-08:00

Okay, I know. I've been a very bad inconsistent blogger as of late. Back when this blog first started, it was all kinds of emo and I whined a lot about how horrible my life was and so on. And over the last year, I decided I didn't want my blog to be that kind of place anymore. The problem is, the times when things are yucky in life are the times I feel most compelled to write, and so I have ended up writing nothing here. Emotionally, things are great. I look back at my old blog posts and realize that I have come MILES from the emo girl I used to be. That's not to say that I'm not still emo sometimes, because of course I am, but at this point in my life I have far more days between crying binges. (Okay, so that's not really hard since back then they happened almost daily...) At any rate, I am back to my blog and that's that.
As I said, emotionally, I have been great. I have isolated myself much less than usual this year and am learning to not take things so personally. People are people. They are flakey and inconsistent and it has nothing to do with me. It's just because they're looking out for number one...
Physically, I have been eeehhhhhh. But that is a story for another post, if ever...

Today's title, though, is about my family. I have to say that my family of origin/birth family is COMPLETELY insane! This is brought on by lots of family drama and weirdness as of late. It seems that nobody in my generation is capable of having a normal relationship. I will break that cycle eventually, but for now, there is my brother and his wife, each with their "spare spouses" as I like to call them. They each have a "friend" of the opposite sex with whom they spend their weekends and important days (such as birthdays, holidays, etc.) There are my half-siblings, only one of whom has even semi-normal relationship habits. But my two half-sisters... Forget about it. Definitely NOT rolemodels for me in my future life. The older of my two half-sisters got married last weekend with a week and a half notice. She married the father of her son. Sounds normal, right? Not so. Her son (my nephew) is TWENTY THREE and did not even know his father until this year. Did I mention that my family is insane?

Wishes

2009-09-17T21:31:00.000-07:00

Today record your wishes: the secret ones, the old favorites or the one that is speaking to you right now.

I wish I could finish a novel.
I wish I could edit somebody else's novel.
I wish I could share dinner with another person at least 5 days a week.
I wish I could go to medical school just for the knowledge.
I wish I could go to grad school, but only if I didn't have to work at the same time.
I wish I could plan another bridal shower or two or three.
I wish I could take my parents on a trip to Europe.
I wish I had appreciated my body more when I was younger.
I wish I could go to culinary school, again, just for the knowledge.
I wish I knew for sure that I would have children some day.
I wish Ben & Jerry's would bring back the "One Sweet Whirled" flavor.
I wish I didn't cry so much, but it's better than the alternative.
I wish my talent matched my passion in the things I love the most.
I wish I had some nachos.
I wish I would make better choices.
I wish I didn't still have two more work days before my vacation
I wish I had a margarita to go with the nachos that I also don't have.
I wish I had the courage, the resources and the finances to make these wishes come true, but mostly to make my friends' and families' wishes come true...

Lies

2009-09-16T20:24:00.000-07:00

Writing Exercise for 09/15/2009

Today write only lies. They can be absurd ones, such as, last night I had dinner with the President in Honolulu, or the lies you tell yourself and/or others. Without judgment be a total liar. Or write down lies you have told and, in retrospect, what motivated you to withhold the truth. Or, write a scene in which one of your characters considers telling a lie.

When I was in fifth grade, I went on a camping trip with my class to learn about surviving in the wilderness. This part is not the lie. The lie is what I told my classmates when they were trying to catch lizards and I was afraid. I didn't want to give them more fuel with which to burn me with their taunts, which saying that I was afraid of lizards was sure to do... So I lied. I told them that I was allergic to lizards. I know that it sounds ridiculous now-- after all, who is allergic to lizards-- but they bought it and I escaped the added ridicule that my irrational fear would have bought.

In eighth grade I lied to my mom about my grades. I told her that I was getting A's and B's and maybe one C when the reality was that there was maybe one A, one B and several C's-- and I didn't even mention the D I was getting in Algebra because I didn't do my homework. That would have meant explaining to her that I was miserable-- that it's hard to focus on doing your homework when you didn't even want to live. I cried a lot, but I never let her know how sad I really was because I was afraid of what she would do to try to make it better. I was afraid that she would actually make it worse. After all, in the past her interference, though with the best intentions, always had given the other kids even more reason to pick on me rather than stopping the trouble.
So the first semester she didn't find out about my grades until the failure notice came in the mail. I learned my lesson and did better the second semester. My grades didn't really improve but I learned to lie better. I told her that I was doing better in Algebra at least and then I made sure that I was the one to bring in the mail every day the week failure notices came out and I intercepted the notice, took it into the bathroom and burned it over the toilet then flushed the evidence.

When I was nineteen, I lied to everyone. I told them all that I was okay, that I was happy, then I secretly went into the bathroom and vomited or cut myself. I did it to distract myself-- by drawing the focus away from my emotions and onto the physical discomfort, I was able to keep from crying most of the time and even put on a happy face most of the time. I didn't want people to see what I was really feeling because they would think I was weak and needy. And if they thought I was weak and needy, they wouldn't give me a chance. This was a time of transition and I really needed people to give me a chance.
I still lie to my mother about this time in my life every day-- not that she's ever asked or even come close to knowing what I did during that time-- but I lie by omission. I tell her everything. I've admitted all of the rest of my lies and missteps, but this one I leave out. I don't want to worry her needlessly-- because even though this was almost eleven years ago and I'm not that person anymore, as a mother she will still worry about it and even be upset that I didn't come to her (even though I didn't go to anyone at the time) and upset that I did those things. It is the past and there is nothing to be gained by telling her.

These days, I still find myself lying constantly, but now it's in a different way. I lie when I act like I'm not smart enough. I lie when I say I don't have the discipline to change myself, to write a book, to run a marathon. I lie when I say I'm not pretty enough or interesting enough to meet somebody who will love me. I lie to myself every single day because to admit to myself that I AM intelligent, that I AM driven, that I AM beautiful and that I AM interesting means allowing myself to hope that the things I have always dreamed of are real possibilities. I lie, because having hope for the good things that may come if I believe in myself and taking action toward those things makes me afraid. I lie because if I convince myself that I can't do it, that I'm not good enough, then I don't have to try and then I will not be disappointing myself or anybody else when I fail.
This is my way of breaking free from the lies I tell myself. I am taking action. I am putting myself out there even though I'm afraid-- because if I don't, nothing will change. I will never feel more fulfilled and I will never know what could have been.

Piece by Piece

2009-09-15T20:13:00.000-07:00

Writing Exercise from 09/14/2009

Today start writing with no thought about what form the material will take. Or, select material you already have and try it out in another form. Pick from short story, poem, essay, performance monologue, creative non-fiction, children's story.

The enemy prevails
where uncertainty dwells.
The devilish voice in your head
incessantly yells
at you letting you know
that your dreams are worthless
that you'll never make it,
that your life is a mess.
The more that you listen
the more you believe
the less that you fight it
the more you're deceived.
As you boldly break free
from the tight grip of fear
you'll find even more of
the things you hold dear--
you'll start to find love
wherever you look
all because of your courage
and the chances you took.

Snot

2009-09-14T22:05:00.000-07:00

Writing Exercise from 09/13/2009 (Don't blame me for the content, I'm just following the directions!)

Today, for a minimum of one full page, write about snot. Afterward, consider how you felt before you began, as you wrote, and once you were finished. Record your responses. Check if any material emerged that you could incorporate into a piece you are working on. Or list other unmentionable topics you could explore as you write.

As she sat crying on her couch, her body quivered and pulsed much like the oozing, dripping gob of snot that hung from her left nostril. It's pale, slightly yellowish hue was reminiscent of corn chowder and she was to upset to do anything about it-- she just left if there trembling on her upper lip, just barely clinging on. The mass of snot was fighting its hardest not to fall, like an inexperienced rock climber clings to the face of a mountain just a little bit too challenging.

As she continues to cry, the pearlescent blob begins to pulsate as it fills with air and then deflates again. When she finally realizes the snot is dangling perilously, she sniffs, summoning a portion of the pasty fluid back within, then she runs the back of her hand under her nose creating a smeared trail of snot up to her wrist.

I feel that writing a whole page about the snot is a bit over the top, but it might help in the event that you're trying to accurately portray a situation that may involve snot. Of course it would be excessive to use the entire description, but to just pull the pieces that fit the situation, it could be quite useful.

In the Beginning There Was the Word

2009-09-13T21:25:00.000-07:00

Writing Exercise 09/12/2009 (Incomplete)

Today write about the first time words profoundly affected you. Describe the situation, what led up to it, the moment of the encounter, your physical reaction, and something else that was taking place in the same setting but had nothing to do with your experience. Feel free to allow your imagination to supply whichever of these elements you can't recall. You might try this as a poem.

"Does not play will with others."
Six simple words and yet they caused so much destruction. The first time those words emblazoned a report card, I could not imagine the affect they would have on my life. The reality was that others didn't play well with me, but those six words changed everything-- those six words came to define me. If they wanted somebody who didn't play well with others, then that was exactly what I was going to give them.
I became the feisty little girl who didn't really pick fights, but didn't do much to avoid them, either. Had I been bigger, I might have become a bully. But it's hard to act tough when you're only four feet tall.

I Don't Remember

2009-09-12T23:58:00.000-07:00

Writing Exercise from 9/11/2009

This time, begin with the phrase, "I don't remember," and fill up a page. If you draw a blank at any point, repeat the phrase "I don't remember," in writing, until something else forms in your consciousness. Notice if one of these non-memories suggests a section of a piece, an experience for one of your characters, or perhaps a topic to write about. Notice what subjects of non-memories emerge: are they the same themes you write about? If not, further explore one of the new ones.

I don't remember much about my life before high school. Some people say it's because it was a long time ago, but I know that is not the truth. While, yes, it was a long time ago, the reality is that there just wasn't much worth remembering before high school. Then again, I could be wrong-- how would I know if there's anything worth remembering if I can't remember.
Maybe what really happened is that I hit my head on the first day of high school-- no, make that the last day of middle school-- and forgot everything that had happened in my life prior to that day.
Or maybe it's like some crazy plot in a soap opera-- Perhaps I was kidnapped by some evil genius and brainwashed to do his dirty deeds. That sounds about right. I can almost see his sinister face looming over me as I begged him not to take the pleasant memories of my childhood away from me-- not to replace them with traumatic ones.
Or maybe I was right before about hitting my head, only like in the soaps, or maybe romantic comedies, I woke up and found that high school and college were just a dream.
I don't remember much about my childhood-- maybe because I was abducted by aliens when I was seven... Alright, so that one's a little far-fetched even for me.
Or what if I was drug off into the woods by a pack of bears and forced to live with them for several years and when I was finally rescued I suffered from PTSD and became agorophobic and refused to leave the house because I was traumatized but didn't really know why so I started seeing a psychologist who was paid by my parents to plant false memories so that I wouldn't remember the horrible things that had happened with the bears but my whole existance was then a sham because all of my memories were created by somebody else.
I don't remember most of my life before high school, so I think I'll just make it up.

Memory is Imagination

2009-09-11T21:02:00.000-07:00

Writing Exercise from 9/10/2009

Begin with the phrase "I remember" and start writing. It doesn't matter if you stick with one memory or list several. You can retrieve memories from as far back as childhood (or past lives!) to as recently as yesterday. If you get stuck just keep repeating the phrase "I remember," in writing, until something else forms in your consciousness. Don't even be concerned with the authenticity of the memory. Just record whatever comes to you. Don't stop until you have filled two pages.

I remember the day I met my first boyfriend- the one I don't usually count. I went to a baseball game with my best friend. It was the Diamonds-- They were after the Silver Sox and before the Chukars and before the Silver Sox returned. I don't recall the details of how we wound up going to that game, but I do remember that is was with people from her church and he was one of them. Tall, brown eyes, curly hair.
I remember the day I met my second boyfriend. He was actually my friend's boyfriend at the time. I know that your friends exes are supposed to be off limits, but she's the one who set up up, so it seemed like it would be okay. The day we met, my friend had invited me to go see a movie with her and her boyfriend (who would later be my boyfriend) . We saw Mr. Bean, and afterward we went back to his house and his best friend played Fur Elise on the keyboard.
I remember the day I met my third boyfriend (and there hasn't been one since-- I learned not to settle for less than I deserve). It was freshman year of high school and a friend from my English class was friends with him. We'd seen each other every day because his locker was right by mine, but we hadn't been introduced. After the day we met, we would spend years bickering and bantering as friends before he became my third boyfriend. He definitely was a much better friend than he was a boyfriend, but I'd always know that would be the case and had settled anyway. Never again.
I remember my first kiss, well before all three of the boyfriends. It was the friend from my freshman English class the summer after freshman year-- I was fourteen. He wanted to be my first boyfriend, though I didn't know it at the time. He'd invited me over to the apartment where he lived with his mom along with some other friends for a pool party. The other friends he's invited were a couple. That night, we were all in the pool after dark and his other friends were in the corner of the pool making out. We were on the other side of the pool talking and he pointed up at the sky pointing out Orion. When I looked up, he kissed me. But I didn't kiss back. I was fourteen. I wasn't ready. And I'd thought we were just friends. I told him that I only thought of him as a friend, and he accepted it, though throughout high school he kept trying and I never was willing to give him a chance. If I have any regrets, that is it-- who knows what my skewed high school perception may have lost me.
I remember the day I met my first love, not realizing at the time what he would become to me or the drama that my life would become because of it. I had gone with a couple of friends to the Pi Phi Sorority house to play board games in the basement after the Thursday night meeting of Intervarsity. My friend and I had decided to stay on when the girl we'd ridden with decided to go home. We were going to walk back to the dorms-- After all, it wasn't very far at all. When the game night ended and the group dispersed, my friend and I made our way to the door, but we were followed by a friendly giant-- an extremely tall guy who hadn't said much all night. He announced that he couldn't let us walk back to the dorms alone and he joined us on our trek up Sierra Street. On the way, we passed two girls sitting outside on their front steps having a cigarette. One of the girls was wearing bunny slippers. Our tall friendly escort was quite amused by the slippers and asked the girl if he could try them on. I can't even remember if she let him-- just that he asked.
I remember all of these things and the lessons that I learned from each of these experiences have helped to make me into the woman I am today.

A New Challenge

2009-09-10T20:20:00.000-07:00

Only 9 more days until Talk Like a Pirate Day. Because I don't really want to acknowledge the other thing that is happening in 9 days. I know it's not really a big deal, but at the same time, it is-- primarily because I have been lazy. I have not done most of the things I've wanted to do, and the reality is that some of those things are out of my control, but some of them are not-- some of them I've just been lazy about. I'm not trying to be too hard on myself-- after all, I know I've made progress in reaching out and meeting new people as well as being okay with being the one who does the inviting. But I've been lazy about other things that are important to me. I've been lazy about eating, mostly because I kind of gave up, deciding that if I was going to feel crappy no matter what I eat that I might as well enjoy it. I've been lazy about blogging because I got tired of nobody reading, even though I started it for myself and that used to be good enough. I've been lazy about writing because I'm afraid that I'll never be good enough. These are just some things that I've been lazy about, but they're also the ones that need to change. So the plan is as follows:
1) I'm going to join Weight Watchers with some of my co-workers. Our company pays for half, and I figure I may as well take advantage of that.
2) I'm working through a book of writing exercises one a day-- just as a warm-up to get my focused so that I can hopefully finish the novel by Sept. 19, 2010 (a year later than I'd originally planned, but better late than never.)
3) I will post the writing exercises on my blog, no matter how rough & crappy they are. This will be my way of keeping myself accountable with the help of anybody who may read this and notice that I'm slacking.

Feel free to check out now if you're not into this sort of thing or if you're opposed to long blog posts. Here is the first writing exercise from last night-- now remember, I said I was posting these no matter how crappy and nonsensical, so here goes:

Today dive into writing by choosing any one of the following words that have more than one meaning: bear, cleave, lie, sewer, tear or desert. Start by copying the word and quickly, without stopping for any reason, continue writing until you reach the end of the page. Making sense is unimportant. Your goals are speed and endurance. If you get stuck, repeat whatever word you've just written until something new spills out. After you finish, read the result. Don't forget to breathe, and try not to tense up your hand. Ready, set, go...

Desert
Living in the desert can be quite like going through life alone. After all, in both scenarios, any company you might find will be a great pleasure, and quite the relief.
There will be times in the desert that you find yourself parched. After going quite some time without the living water of companionship, you will find yourself dry-- unable to speak because of the cotton heaviness upon your tongue. In these times the appearance of even the most unwelcome acquaintances can come as a relief-- the may not be the cool, refreshing sparkling water you may be desiring, but unfiltered tap water will still quench your thirst until you are able to get to the place where you can find the cool refreshing drink you're looking for.
You may find times where you feel alone and deserted and sometimes it's because you simply chose not to drink-- you didn't want to settle for luke warm tap water, so you held out for something shinier in a plastic bottle. But when you get thirsty enough, you will take what you can get and you will find that the tap water is not as bad as you thought it was. You realize how much hurt you could have saved yourself if only you had given plain old tap water a chance in the first place.
After all, while the pretty plastic bottles can be so quick and convenient, so tasty in its variety of flavors and so attractive in its decorative bottle, you will find that it is tap water that will always be there for you, a faithful friend who never leaves, who will be wherever you go, whose provision will never run out and who will still be refilling you long after the pretty bottle is gone.

No Big Deal

2009-08-31T22:15:00.000-07:00

As my 30th birthday approaches, I am receiving a lot of solicited and unsolicited advice from well-meaning friends, family and co-workers. The only ones who are offering no advice are the ones who most relate and understand to how I'm feeling. Most people seem to think that it's unnatural for me to NOT be excited by this birthday or that I'm making a big deal about nothing. And they're probably right. I probably should be excited and I probably shouldn't be thinking that I'll be depressed. But the reality is I know myself-- this is another landmark birthday that will be passing with my dreams still floating in the distance unfulfilled, and I don't tend to deal with that sort of thing very well. I want to be excited. I'm trying to make the experience as fun-filled and pain free as I possibly can. I'm trying to plan activities and vacations so that I will not have time to isolate myself or hole myself up in my apartment.
I really don' have much more to say than that, right now. I am excited about the things I have coming up-- I'm excited about quite a few things in September. I just pray that the excitement will last through the fall. I don't want to be the one who cries all the time about things that she has no control over. I don't want to be the person who isn't grateful for the good things in her life. I do want to be the person whose joy is contagious, whose smile is genuine, whose eyes do not betray some hidden emotion.

Trying New Things and Finding Comfort in the Old

2009-08-02T20:00:00.000-07:00

Today was a day of trying new things... A lot of new things in one day for me. But the day started with an old thing that was quite enjoyable. First thing this morning, I went to I-Hop for breakfast with one of my friends from the days at the Evil K, who also happens to be a former roommate (in fact, probably the best roommate I ever had, besides my brother...) This is something that we used to do fairly regularly back in the Evil K days, but don't do so often now. It was a pleasant morning and well worth the sleep that was sacrificed.
Church was good in that since the group that I've now become accustomed to joining with for communion was completely absent, I was forced to reach out again and join somebody different. It's been almost a year since I had to do that! But I think I've grown more confident. This time, instead of going to somebody that I know, who would of course not turn me away (not that anybody would-- but my heart sometimes fears it), I went to somebody new, who I didn't already know. This is a new thing for me, having the confidence to believe that new people WILL accept me.
Another new thing I intend to try as a result of the message today: having the confidence to act on my potential. Yes, there was a lot of talk about hypocrisy and such, but what stood out to me was the little snippet about potential-- about God taking us and pulling out the potential that is already within us. Now, I don't have trouble RECOGNIZING the potential, I'm usually just too afraid to act on it. I'm afraid to fail, to not be good enough, to not LIVE UP to the potential. So what I need is to have the confidence in myself, as God does, as well as the confidence in God, to believe that I can do what God has for me-- that He will help me to do it. That would be new.
Later, in another new thing, I asked to join OTHER people in prayer at the end of the service. And not just any other people, but other people who generally intimidate me... This was an attempt to be more confident.
More new things: after church, I went to meet my family at Legends for lunch in celebration of the sis-in-law's birthday. We went to Jazz: A Louisiana Kitchen. This was my first time visiting the Legends "mall" or whatever you want to call it. Also, our lunch was my first time trying SEVERAL new foods: grits (didn't like 'em), fried okra (it was okay), breaded crawfish (was really good) and most interesting-- alligator bites (yes, they really are alligator meat...) It was fun and the food was tasty.
And back to the old, comforting things: I am now sitting at home, relaxing watching House on DVD. It's very comforting to do some of the same old things, particularly when there are some things this week that I am worried about. I find confidence in doing new things and having them work out, but I find peace in doing some of the same old things that I've been doing for years.

Lost Things

2009-07-05T15:43:00.000-07:00

I have been thinking lately about lost things. Things I used to do and no longer do: playing soccer, theatre, running, spending time writing EVERY day. Things I used to have, but no longer have: a sense of adventure, a desire for something more, a passion for all things I do. Yes, the reality is, I have become indifferent and apathetic. I want to care, but I just don't. I miss the things that I've lost, but I don't really do anything to get them back. And the reality is that if I was willing to work for it, I could get each and every one of them back. But I've lost the energy to make the effort. There's a country song (yes, I know some of you are gagging as you read that) that says it perfectly... "My Give-a-Damn's Busted."

Here's the thing-- Back when I used to do any of those things, I really cared about all of them. I gave each and every one of them my heart. But during those times I had very few real relationships. And the ones I did have are mostly lost now. Those are the lost things I find myself missing today. Those are the lost things that I would like to get back, but I just don't know how. I know how to get back the lost things that are what I DO. But I don't know how to find the people that I've lost over time-- how to rekindle the friendships that I miss. There are some that I've lost that I've let go of because they had become unhealthy-- they were good for a time, but they were never meant to last forever. But there are some that I'd like to have back, even if just so that I know that their lives are good and they are healthy and happy.

This afternoon during my nap, I had a dream that my best friend from high school had died-- not in the dream. It was just something that I knew in my head in the dream. She had died and I ran into her sister and we were able to sit and share the things we'd liked about her and cry together. When I woke up, for a minute, for a minute I thought that I really had at some point heard that she'd died. In reality, as far as I know, she's still alive and well, married with at least one child. I've learned this through the reports of a mutual friend. I actually haven't seen her for at least ten years and the reality is that she could die and I could never know about it.

These are the lost things that make me the saddest, the most upset. How is it possible that the person I was closest to for three years back in high school could be completely absent from my life now? I don't even have her as a friend on Facebook or Myspace or any virtual manner of connecting. I've never even looked for her. I'm not sure if I should. Has it been too long? Does she ever think about looking for me? I am somewhat optimistic because last summer my mom reconnected with HER best friend from high school through classmates.com and now they communicate again. After over forty years they were able to reconnect, and this gives me hope for all of the lost things. Hope that lost friendships may someday be rekindled, lost ambitions will be rediscovered, lost passions will be reignited.

Life and things to come...

2009-06-28T21:26:00.000-07:00

Today was a wonderful day filled with blessings. I had fabulous conversations with THREE of my close friends-- the ones who are just as much my friend as I am theirs and now I feel quite relaxed and encouraged. (I love you guys!)
The afternoon started out with a little time to myself, which was nice, because I really haven't had any of that for the last couple of weekends. Since I was meeting some friends for a movie downtown at 2:15, I just went straight downtown. It would have been silly to go home only to have to leave again 10 minutes later. So I decided to chill at Dreamers' for a little while and have some lunch. This was officially my first time trying a grilled peanut butter and banana sandwich and I must say that it was quite tasty.
The movie was hilarious and then I went to Pneumatic Diner with one of my inner circle (hehehe) and had a tasty meal there. We walked around downtown quite a bit, which was nice. I really should spend more time outside... I should make myself do it, even when I really don't feel like it.
Anyway, after that, I went home and talked to TWO more of my friends on the phone which was also quite nice.

As far as things to come-- Real Simple magazine is having another essay contest. I can't believe it's already been a year since the last one. At any rate-- I fully intend to enter again. I think this time the subject is a bit less vague and I already know what I want to write about. They've also increased the word count from 1500 to 3000 words, which might make things a bit easier. I can't wait to get started.
Also, it's almost JULY which means that ARTown is almost here. I fully plan to take advantage of the free activities-- I may be broke, but that doesn't mean I can't have a great time in July. I'll be posting some activities on Facebook if anybody wants to join in on the ARTown fun...
And last-- I am making plans for my birthday because I want to have fun and hang out with the people that I love and care about when I turn *cough* thirty *cough*. It's three months away, but I don't care. I want to make sure that I am happy and not depressed and so I'm planning things that I enjoy and if anybody wants to join in, they're welcome to, and if not, it's their loss! More on that later.

I also see bedtime in my near future... We'll say about 15 minutes in the future... :) Good night, all!

My blog has been neglected...

2009-06-24T21:33:00.000-07:00

Life has been interesting lately. For the most part I have been happy because of my friends-- the ones that God has so graciously placed in my life-- despite the constant feeling that something in my life is still unfulfilled. I've been dealing with some stuff that I'm just not going to blog about and these few fabulous friends who are endlessly loyal have been very supportive once I let them in. As far as everybody else-- I feel like I'm having to work far harder than I should, and I'm getting to the point of being burned out again on being the one to put in all of the effort. Why should I always be the one doing the planning and inviting? When does it get to be somebody else's turn? (The loyal few are excluded from this statement. You know who you are...) I'm tired and I need a break, but I'm afraid that if I take one, if I stop being the one to make the effort, I'll end up isolated all over again.
Partially I think I'm just emo because I have a lot of questions, a lot of issues, but not many answers. And partially I think it's because the up and coming birthday of doom (30) and I have yet to accomplish anything noteworthy. I know that our accomplishments should not/do not matter-- but as I said before, there are days when I feel unfulfilled. I wonder what I'm supposed to be doing, how I should be making a difference, why I am still here, alone, waiting for life to happen. I know-- life doesn't just happen-- I need to take action of some sort, but I just can't figure out what.
And this is why I haven't blogged. Nothing makes sense. I have Jesus. I have friends who love me and I am mostly happy-- at least when they're around. So why isn't it enough? Why do I still see what other people have and want it even though I know it isn't right for me? Why do I sabotage myself in my pursuit of my dreams-- give up before I've even started?

Yeah... I think it's time for bed.

Until the next time...

Pointless Pregnancy Tests

2009-05-12T17:34:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I made a status update on Facebook about this today but the size of a status update cannot truly convey the humor in this situation.
So this morning I had a doctor's appointment with the new doctor I started seeing about a month and a half ago. I changed primary care doctors because I was not happy with my previous doctor who dismissed my concerns, which in my new doctor's opinion, are very valid concerns, particularly given my family history-- which he also didn't dismiss because my parents go to the same doctor. So anyway, I've been seeing him trying to get the tummy trouble situation figured out and resolved. This was my third visit to his office and he has ordered various blood and imaging tests for me-- and today, out of nowhere, he asks me if there was any chance I could be pregnant.
I thought I'd made it clear on my new patient paperwork and during my first visit that I have not engaged in the necessary activity for such a question. I reminded him that if I was, it would only be the second time in the history of the universe that such a thing has happened. He politely laughed and told me that he wanted to do a urine test to make sure there was nothing unusual going on there. I didn't really think much of it, because he'd had my parents do the same in the past.
I wait in the room while the run the urine test and a little bit later he comes back and tells me that everything looks normal there... "Oh, and you're NOT pregnant." As if this is news to me... He then proceeded to tell me that since he was running the urine, he had to check because while he was sure that I wasn't, lots of patients lie about their sexual history. Every doctor says the SAME thing.

So, here's the long and short of it:
Number of pregnancy tests over the last 8 years: 5
Number of times I needed one: ZERO

Hence my status update this morning:

45 minutes at the doctor's office and here's the big news: I'm NOT pregnant. Note Sarcasm

I'm afraid that despite the "*Note Sarcasm*" the humor of it may have been lost on those who don't know me very well.

I thought I was going to have to move again

2009-05-07T19:08:00.000-07:00

Okay-- I was kidding... Kidding. Don't freak out... I'm not really moving again.

But the reason for that header:
So this morning, I went to work early for some overtime-- started at about 6:30, which is WAAAAAAAYYYYY early for me-- and when I walked into the building one of my supervisors sees me and says-- "Oh, I was just thinking of you." Then one of my co-workers stands up and yells across the rows of cubes, "JENI! You're not 'sploded!" So I look at her, puzzled and say, "And good morning to you, too!"

Then my supervisor proceeds to tell me that one of the buildings in my apartment complex exploded...

So I went online to find the news story, just to make sure I didn't have to move again... :)
This morning they were saying that an explosion that may have been caused by a gas leak, but as the day went on and the investigators investigated, this is what they found:

How stupid can you get

At least I don't live in the same building as that lady!

Things I didn't do before

2009-05-03T20:25:00.000-07:00

Over the last year, I've taken steps to be more outgoing, to reach out more, to talk to people and invite them to things despite the fear that they will say no. And over the last year, I've come to realize that if people do say no, it's probably not personal-- my head always knew this, but my heart was less rational. And I've also realized that when people say no, or bail on a plan at the last minute or whatever the case may be, it is their loss-- not mine. I can still have a great time doing whatever.
Today I did something a bit more unusual for me. I have become comfortable with reaching out to people I know and trust-- but reaching out to new people, meeting new people is still a challenge, but today, I found myself asking a complete stranger (a rather attractive one, at that :D) to join us for communion simply because I noticed he was alone. I didn't even think about it as anything unusual until after the fact. And that was when I realized that something has changed within me and I couldn't be happier.
I look forward to the excitement that will come as I continue to change and continue to willingly approach new people. I'm curious to discover what sort of opportunities this changed behavior will bring about. I pray that it will last-- that I won't just retreat back into my cave when things get tough. Only time will tell.

Weekend in Vegas Part I

2009-03-27T17:34:00.000-07:00

So last weekend, I took a fabulous trip to Las Vegas to visit Becky. It was my first time in Vegas (aside from passing through the airport) since I was three years old. Of course Becky had fabulous non-touristy activities planned for the three of us (Becky, Mary and I).

So Friday night, out flight got in at about 10pm and we went to Becky's place to change for a night out on the town. (I know-- I'm usually going to bed about that time...)
The first place we hit was Firefly Tapas Lounge where we enjoyed appetizers and a pitcher of Sangria. (When I relayed the tale of the evening to my mother, she heard me wrong and thought I said Firefly TOPLESS Lounge... Oh dear. Not that it would surprise me if there was such a place...)
Next we hit a bar that Becky said was a locals sort of place where the "hipsters" hang out... It was called the Downtown Cocktail Lounge. Nothing particularly special-- typical bar environment, low lighting, music that's way too loud--it's more about the company than the place. The most unusual part was the bathroom-- the bathroom stall wall is a one way mirror, where it's a mirror on the outside, but when you're inside you can see out. Kind of creepy, actually. Anyway, here we are hanging out at the Downtown Cocktail Lounge:

Next we hit another bar, just around the corner called The Griffin. More of the same-- loud music, low lights. Good thing we were only having one drink per place, otherwise we'd be in BIG trouble, eh? Especially since there was still one more place to hit. The last place we visited was called the Beauty Bar-- apparently sometimes they do manicures in the bar-- and this is where the real trouble began. They have a courtyard in the back. According to Becky, there's usually a band playing there, but on this particular evening, they were renting out roller skates instead and people were skating around the courtyard... Yes, I knew that this was a bad idea-- but I let Becky talk me into it. Tipsy roller skating would be bad enough-- but to make it EXTRA fun, the courtyard was not flat. It had kind of a slant, so on one side you'd be skating uphill, and on the other side you'd be coasting down hill. Here is a picture of Becky and Mary skating (No picture of me skating-- it's bad enough Becky put one on her Facebook):

That was the end of Friday night. It was after three by the time we got back to Becky's and we all crashed pretty quickly.
Saturday we slept in and when we woke up we took a trip out to Red Rock Canyon. We took the scenic loop and stopped along the way for a short hike. Here is a picture of the prickly pear that poked both Mary and Becky, after which they both proceeded to flip off the prickly pear (but I thought that picture would be inappropriate for blogspot!):

When we got back from our trip to Red Rock Canyon, we got ready for Becky's dinner party-- she invited some of her Vegas friends plus her dad over for dinner so that they could meet Mary and I (if they hadn't already). The Thai food Becky made was fabulous and the conversation was-- well, interesting. The husband of one of Becky's friends kind of monopolized conversation, so there was a lot of sidebar talk going on... There was also some toilet trouble that resulted in everybody having to fill up the tank using a giant pot before they flushed... Poor Becky.
After the dinner party, Becky wanted to take us to a bar at Circus Circus called the Horse-Around bar-- It is a bar that was built on the carousel in the midway, and it apparently was mentioned in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. Unfortunately the bar was closed, so we went to another bar at the Artisan. It was a classy sort of place with art on the walls and outside the bar in the lobby sort of area there was a nice fountain and tables and more art... I would have preferred to sit in the lobby area as it was much quieter, but it was nice, none the less...
We were home a bit earlier Saturday night, so we got a proper night's sleep, at last!

Too much drama

2009-03-16T22:52:00.001-07:00

Yeah, that's what my life has been lately. I'm choosing not to elaborate at the moment because it's much more appropriate for my emo blog... But I'm here, and life marches on...

Extending Love Without Expectations

2009-02-27T20:36:00.000-08:00

I'm in a phase again where I'm finding myself lacking the motivation to blog. After all- what is the point of sharing my heart if nobody finds it necessary to reciprocate?

The truth is this is something I've been struggling with in all parts of my life, not just online. I find myself not wanting to make the effort to put myself out there only to be ignored or pushed aside. It happens online and it happens in real life and I have been finding myself resentful of the people who do it. I am tired of constantly reaching out to people, of making an effort to love them when they aren't willing to give me the time of day.

This is where my epiphany comes in- this past Sunday, I arrived at church and was immediately in a foul mood. The people I have repeatedly attempted to reach out to just smile an walk on by. I stand around waiting for somebody to show up who actually wants to be a part of my life. I see a friend arrive and it improves my mood just a bit. Then, just before worship begins, another friend arrives and joins me where I am sitting. Worship begins and I'm feeling just a little bit happier. Then another friend arrives and joins me on my other side. And I'm filled with an overwhelming joy. I suddenly feel as though things are JUST as they should be.
I am convicted. I know that I have been selfish. I would not be happy being the center of attention, and yet sometimes that is what I want. In this overwhelming joy, God reminds me that He has handpicked each and every one of my friends and placed them in my life for a very special reason. Each of them fulfills a specific need in my life-- and I have no needs that are left un-met that would be fulfilled by any of the people whose attention I have been striving after. Things are just as they should be in God's eyes.
Just like a real family, just because somebody spends the majority of their time with other family members, it does not mean that they love you less. And there should never be a time where I do not show love to somebody simply because they have not been showing love to me. We are called to love others-- not to love only those who will show us love in return.

Jesus, please help me to love without expectation of anything in return. Help me to be grateful for the life that I have rather than resentful that it's not the life I want. Fill me with the same joy I felt in the moment I was surrounded by my friends, knowing that you have placed them in my life for a reason.

A New Season

2009-02-12T18:41:00.000-08:00

It has always been that my friends come in and out of my life in seasons. It is gradual, but when I look back, it looks like things changed quite quickly.
Right now, it seems that I am entering a new season again. I love my old friends dearly and they are still and will continue to be my friends. But we're not in the same place anymore and they are no longer the people I feel most comfortable turning to when I'm down and just need someone to cry with, to pray with. Over the last year or two, I have made some great new friends and reconnected with old friends who are in the same place that I am. But with the new friends, I still haven't quite established who is the one I should call when I'm feeling particularly lonely and vulnerable and need somebody to pray with. I kind of feel like I'm wandering.
Over the last few years, I have become 100% more outgoing than I used to be, and yet I still find myself feeling lonely. There is no rhyme or reason to it. It just happens. While it is great to have lots of friends and spend time in large groups, I still need to connect on the personal level with people as individuals.
And that part is finally starting to come around to. This new season may just be spring time when the sun begins to shine much brighter and the beautiful colors begin to light up all around.

Violated!

2009-02-08T21:26:00.000-08:00

Yes-- It is a tale of excitement and adventure, most of which I missed, despite the fact that it happened to me.

So today, just like every Sunday, I had bowling at the Coconut Bowl at 6:00. Our practice starts at about 5:50. Nothing particularly notable about this day. I did have a drink-something called "orange dreamsicle"- which is a little bit different. On about my third practice ball, I went up, took my turn, and when I came back, everybody is pointing at my purse and asking whose it is. I said that it was mine, and of course, asked why they wanted to know. I thought maybe somebody had spilled something on it, or knocked it on the floor or something.

And then the bartender said that he caught some guy trying to steal it. During the minute I was up throwing a practice ball, some guy had grabbed it and stuffed it under his coat. The bartender saw him and said something to him, at which time he dropped my purse and ran off. The bartender brought it back, and that is the moment that I returned from my practice ball.

I didn't see any of this happen-- this is just what I have been told. But I checked my purse to make sure nothing was missing, and then I took my wallet, stuck it in my pocket and asked my dad to put my purse in the car.

I thought that was all-- I felt violated and upset, but I thought that there was nothing to be done. I assumed that the guy had fled the property never to be seen again. But then halfway through the first game, the Sparks PD showed up and wanted to ask me about what had happened. I really didn't know anything since I didn't see anything. But then they said that since it was my property, I had to decide whether or not I wanted to press charges. All throughout the first game the police were in and out with reports to be filled out and statements to be made.

Then they needed to go through my purse to assess the value of the items inside to determine if the would be thief would be charged with a misdemeanor or a felony. It turns out that I had almost $500.00 worth of personal property in my purse (including the purse itself). So, apparently that makes it a felony. So we got everything wrapped up and my dad took my purse back to the car and the remainder of the night was uneventful.

I joked through the final two games, but when the evening was over, I just felt sick to my stomach. I felt violated- but also I felt incredibly blessed. The bartender's attentiveness saved me a lot of time, money and frustration. I feel like I should give him a giant hug (which would obviously be inappropriate) or buy him a drink (which would also be moderately inappropriate) or send him a cookie basket or something.

I think maybe I should have another drink before bed. Ugh, what a night.

Life should be more than this...

2009-01-25T20:41:00.000-08:00

I have, as some people have noticed, been struggling more than usual recently. I made a particularly emo post on my emo blog about part of it, but it doesn't really tell the whole story. In my life, there has almost always been a song that characterizes what I'm going through at any given time, good or bad. I've written about them here before, and they usually come to my mind unexpectedly-- sometimes they are songs that I haven't heard for months or even years. Today the song that characterizes this period of my life came to my mind. The song is "I Belong to You" by Superchick. Yes, I know Superchick is rather cheesy and such, but the song is quite true to what I am feeling right now-- so here are the lyrics:

Everybody needs to belong somewhere
life can feels so alone without someone who cares.
And when life becomes something just to get through,
that’s when I’m glad that I belong to you.

I belong to you,I belong to you,
you’re the one who will never let me down,
won’t let me down.
I belong to you.
Lord I belong to you.

Sometimes life brings more pain than we can bear alone.
When hope is gone and I have no strength to stand on my own,
when nothing helps, there’s nothing that I can do,
you surround me and show me I belong to you.

I belong to you,I belong to you,
you’re the one who will never let me down,
won’t let me down.
I belong to you.
Lord I belong to you.

When Love is gone there’s no arms to run to anymore,
I’m all alone there’s no one for me to live for,
letting go of the things I’ve always clung to,
that’s when I need to feel that I belong to you.

I belong to you,I belong to you,
you’re the one who will never let me down,
won’t let me down.
I belong to you.
Lord I belong to you.

This is how I'm feeling, spot on. I really do have a lot of days right now that just feel like something to get through. I do feel quite alone most of the time. I do have days where Jesus is the ONLY thing keeping me living-- because without Him I'd still be living the life I was ten years ago which consisted of intentionally hurting myself and wanting to die. The skeleton in my closet is that I still sometimes think about it. I never seriously consider it anymore, but it still pops up in my head, and there are days that it takes great restraint to not punch a wall or pull out a razor blade-- but Jesus gives me the strength to make the right choice, even in the moments when there is nothing I would rather do than cause myself pain. It is the weapon in Satan's arsenal against me that only Jesus can defeat.
At any rate, the song tells where I am at and what I'm living for right now. And I'm praying for a new song to come along really soon, one that's more about hope and less about loneliness.

My Essay, as Promised

2009-01-10T08:49:00.000-08:00

So I said that I would post my entry to the "Real Simple Magazine Life Lessons Essay Contest" on my blog after they posted the winner (not me). And so here it is-- If you don't like long, you should probably leave now. It's short for an essay, but still long for a blog post.

The question was: What was the most important day of your life?
“What was the most important day of your life?”

I look at this question and I am completely overwhelmed. After all, how can one possibly choose ONE most important moment of an entire lifetime thus far? Okay, so maybe if I was married, I might call the day I met my husband the most important moment of my life—or if I had a child, the day he or she was born might be the most important moment of my life. But my life to this point has not been quite that predictable or cliché. It has not been the life little girls dream about when they are young. There is no dream man, no dream family with 2.5 children, no dream house and no dream job. Don’t get me wrong—I’m not complaining, I am mostly happy with my life—but it’s not at all what I had thought it would be. Two major stops on my “happily ever after” timeline have already come and gone unfulfilled. In my fictional life that I created for myself, I was married by 25, had my first kid by 28 and had published my first novel by 30.
When I turned 25, I spent the first half of the year trying to get over the fact that I wasn’t married. When I turned 28, the not having a kid wasn’t quite so much of a blow because I still hadn’t (and haven’t) found the man I’m going to marry. One thing I didn’t think about is that these goals are not realistic. Yes, things could have happened this way, but they didn’t, and it’s not because I’ve failed. I would have failed if I settled for something less than I wanted just to make this happen—but it takes a stronger person to hold out for what is right, even if it means watching all of your friends get what you want and still waiting. As far as the third stop on that timeline? There’s still time for that.
Thinking about all of these things made me realize that I knew exactly which day to call the most important day of my life. I discovered that TODAY is the most important day of my life. Today I will learn to never lower my standards in an attempt to find love. Today I will be made whole again. Today I will meet my first love, and today I will let him go. Today I will go to driving school, get my license and buy my first car, and today my mother will nearly have a nervous breakdown when I come home with a flashy red car. Today I will move into my own apartment. Itwill be small and a little bit dingy, but it will be mine. Today one of my dearest friends will move halfway around the world and I will be terrified that our friendship can not, will not survive; and today I will discover I was wrong as our friendship remains solid. Today I will graduate 11th in my high school class; and today I will graduate college (just barely) one semester after changing my major, saying farewell to the teaching career I never wanted anyway. Today we will celebrate my great-grandmother’s 100th birthday, and today she will pass away. Today I will watch my little (though not in stature) brother get married before me. Today I will remember all of these days. These are just some of my todays, but each and every one of them has helped to make me the person I am on this today. And all of the todays that are yet to come—how will I choose to spend them knowing that each one is the most important day of my life?
Today is the day I get out of bed and go to work so that I can pay the bills. Today is the day I will smile at a stranger passing by and maybe he’ll smile back and maybe he won’t. Maybe he’ll even stop to chat. And maybe we’ll never talk again, but maybe we will. Today is the day I will take a chance on people. I will love them in spite of the possibility that I will get hurt, or that I will hurt somebody else. Today I will put pen to paper and write something beautiful. Okay, so maybe only my mom and dad will think it’s beautiful, but it’s a start. I will just sit down and write whatever comes out because I will never write anything beautiful if I continue to write nothing at all. I will write this essay and I will mail it even though I will never be completely happy until it’s perfect—which it never will be. I will write because it’s what I love and I will not stop just because it’s not perfect.
Today is the day I choose to put my all into what I have at this moment rather than holding back, waiting for my “real life” to begin. Today is the day I celebrate and cherish the life I have rather than coveting somebody else’s. And when tomorrow becomes today, today will still be the most important day of my life. After all, there is no good that can come of always looking behind us, wishing things could be the way they used to be, or wondering where we went wrong. Glancing back and remembering the good times and learning from our mistakes is natural, even expected; like checking your rearview mirror while you’re driving. But when we continue to look behind us, we miss what lies ahead— not only the obstacles, but the joys as well. We miss the roadblocks in front of us and we crash. Or worse yet, we are so busy looking back at the love we used to have that we zoom right past the love that’s yet to come, missing out completely. Each today is a choice. We can choose to be in today and make the most of it or we can choose to be in yesterday and tomorrow, completely missing out on today.
Today is the day I move forward. I will not live in the past, nor will I worry about what the future holds, because worrying will take me nowhere. I will live today in a way that reflects who I am and what is important to me. I will stop expecting to fail. I will make a reachable goal for today and today and today. I will do what I can with what I have and nothing more or less. I will value my commitments to myself as much as I value my commitments to others. Today I will spend a little less money and a little more time on myself. I will make dinner for a friend. I will pray for contentment with a life that is nothing like I planned and expect my prayer to be answered. I will stop standing in the place I have been and take one step forward, then another and another. Today I will choose to do all of these things. And tomorrow I will have to choose to do them all over again because it will be another today… And another best day of my life.

A New You in 2009

2009-01-06T18:41:00.000-08:00

Okay, so I'm not really counting on a NEW me in 2009. Yes, I will continue to grow and change, but I know I will not INSTANTLY be new. But I was watching TV and that's what the commercial in the background promised, so it seemed like a good title for a blog post.

2008 kind of sucked, but it is done and over with, so there is no use dwelling on that now. The topic of this post is the things I realized about myself this weekend that I can now work on.

As you all know, I love kids-- I really want my own, but alas it is not the time. As you also know, the place that I generally serve is with the kids. I spent several years working in the nursery once or twice a month and then I moved on to watching the younger kids while the older kids were in youth group. Once youth group stopped meeting on Wednesday nights, I never picked up another area of service. I really wanted to work with the kids, but I thought that it was best to stay away because I thought it would put too much focus on what I want more than anything else but cannot have.
But this weekend I realized that since I stopped serving with the kids and no longer had regular time spent with kids and/or serving, I have been MORE depressed. So I stopped to try to keep from being depressed and it actually made me more depressed. And so now, it is BACK to the kids. HOORAY!

In other news, it is a wonderful thing to have friends who share the same struggles as you. It feels great to know that there is somebody knows exactly how you feel and what you mean without having to give a lengthy explanation-- though it would be exponentially better if none of us had to deal with it- but since we do, being able to share the struggles makes life a little bit better.

The Real Simple Magazine essay contest that I entered will be posting the winners this Friday. I haven't heard anything yet, so I am assuming that I am not a winner. However, I will remain hopeful for three more days until the winners are posted. After that, when (oops I mean if) I am not a winner, then I will post my essay on my blog.

Happy 2009 to you all! And now it is time to watch Jeopardy-- It makes me feel smart.

Happy New Year and Welcome to 2009!

2009-01-01T02:55:00.000-08:00

You know all of the rules about drinking that one should follow in order to avoid feeling crappy the next day? Let's just say that those rules went out the window this New Years' Eve. The last couple of years I spent New Years' with my family for lack of a better plan. This year I attended a "progressive dinner" with a couple of my closest friends and it was quite an adventure. I enjoyed myself immensely despite my resistance to the entire idea. And at the encouragement of my friends, I did indulge in some beverages. To be honest, I broke the cardinal rule of drinking and mixed my alcohols... I had a margarita at the first stop (tequila). Shared a bowl drink with my friends at the second stop (also tequila). No drinks at the third stop. The fourth and final stop is when everything went down hill. I started with a glass of wine, moved on to a mojito (rum), then decided that a PEAR mojito might be better (vodka) and then after midnight enjoyed a couple of mimosas (champagne) and a glass of wine. Let's just say this is a once in a lifetime experience. I feel great at the moment, but I'm sure that won't be the case in the morning... I am currently eating crackers and drinking water to try to minimize the consequences. And I am QUITE looking forward to coffee with Erica tomorrow. Should be a great time. Happy New Year to Ya'll and I shall see you soon! :)

Out with 2008,

2008-12-27T23:35:00.001-08:00

While not everything has been bad in 2008, I'd like to say GOOD RIDDANCE to the year 2008.
Things went funky early on in the year and just went downhill from there. I know it was not just me and many people had a rather unpleasant year. But for me, here are some of the things that made 2008 a year to forget:
~February 24- spending time with my parents on their 30th anniversary when we received a phone call that my cousin --my dad's older brother's daugther-- had committed suicide. We weren't close-- I remember meeting her a few times when I was still in my single digits-- but suicide always messes with me. Having it happen in my family messed with me more.
~On top of my emotional issues (which are gradually improving over time...) this year was also fraught with physical issues. I started having joint problems-- the biggie was the ankle that hurt on the bottom and went numb on the top. That one has not been resolved yet. Others just randomly decided to hurt on random days. Whatever. Then there were some other issues that came along on top of the ankle issues leading to me not getting that resolve. These issues are being examined over time (yippee...) to see if anything changes. Then there was the tummy trouble that started with not just milk products, but other random foods as well-- eating is not enjoyable when nothing seems to agree with you. Then of course there was my clumsiest moment in the history of my existence, leading to my elbow injury-- that was fun. Amazingly enough, the month or so that my elbow felt really bad, everything else felt GREAT. Weird. And then there was the fact that for the two months prior to hurting my elbow as well as about a month and a half after, I was waking up at least twice a night. With all of this going on, my weight has suffered and my doctor is apparently not concerned by any of this. Well that's special. Particularly given that my mom has been diagnosed in the last three years with Type II Diabetes, a thyroid condition and Rheumatoid arthritis. All of which I am at risk for and all of which will hit me harder and sooner if I can't get my weight under control. But apparently this does not matter to my doctor.
~ I really did not want to move until I could afford to buy a place and moving was made even more complicated by the whole stupid elbow thing. I couldn't have done it without such fabulous friends.
~ This year has been the most difficult yet to be alone. The hardest part has been watching all of the new kids arriving to their families. Of course it is a joy-- but it is also painful for me because I worry that I will run out of time. I know that 29 is still young, but I also know that it is going to be VERY difficult for me to have a child if and when that time comes because of the "other issues" mentioned in the above section and so each year that goes by that I'm still alone is another year that I've lost.
~ I have struggled with hope and with trust. I have watched my parents' marriage continue in its destructive path of not communicating and the blame game. At the same time, I have watched my brother struggle as his wife goes out on the town with friends and leaving him at home. All the while, he brought in the only income for most of the year as she was unemployed for six months and he still was left to do much of the housework despite being the only one working and despite being out of town frequently for work. As far as trust goes, I have found that because of many past experiences, I am having a hard time trusting men to do anything they say they will do-- which may keep me from getting a date should anyone be miraculously interested.

But 2008 hasn't been all bad. Here is some of the good:
~ I made several great new friends and reconnected with a couple of old friends.
~ I got a better position at work- working in claims rather than customer service. My co-workers are much more friendly and accepting and much less catty and gossipy. I also feel much more appreciated. Not only do they say it and show it more-- I also received an unexpected promotion which resulted in a 9% pay increase. It's not a different job-- just a higher level of the same job because my boss thinks that I'm doing great.
~Smokey is still the cutest cat ever. And since I got my digital camera, it's easier for me to prove it. :)
~Now that I've moved to the new place, I'm starting to see the pluses-- I have much more space than I used to. It is walking distance to the grocery store, coffee, dollar tree and several food options. Also it is walking distance to the park where there is a beautiful walking trail.
~I've started to learn to believe and accept that the people who say that they love me really do love me-- it is not just an act and it is not pity.

Next Post: In with 2009-- My goals and hopes for the year to come.

A Post About Nothing.

2008-12-20T08:56:00.000-08:00

I am here to post about nothing. I, like some others, have been experiencing a case of the blog BLAHS and have not posted anything for a while. Don't worry-- I haven't posted anything on the emo blog either, so it's not because things are bad. I just don't have much to say.
I generally do not enjoy the holidays as much as I should because it means extra extra time with the family and my mom tends to make drama out of everything that goes wrong this time of year. She has been much more mellow this year-- I'm not sure what to attribute it to, but I am grateful.
I received a fifty dollar gift card for Wal-mart from my boss because of all the overtime I worked a couple weeks ago to help clean up the claims we had. Since I do not shop at Wal-mart, I offered to give it to my parents. My mom would not take it. I offered to sell it to them for forty dollars. My mom said that she wants me to spend it. The good news is, the gift card can ALSO be used at Sam's Club. I know it sounds weird, but I don't boycott Sam's even though I boycott Wal-mart even though they're essentially the same company-- the main reason being that Sam's has a much better track record on employee relations since they have to remain at least somewhat competetive with Costco.
So soon, I will be purchasing some items of bulk goodness. Perhaps some potsticker are in order. And I could definitely use some more individually wrapped chicken breasts (very convenient for a single gal cooking for herself). And some Laughing Cow Cheese. Yes, that sounds good. We'll see what else I get.
I am glad that Christmas is almost here. Because I will be very glad when it is over with. I'm not saying that to be all anti-holiday spirit or Bah-Humbug-y... It's just that all of my gatherings with friends are after Christmas, and I am rather looking forward to spending time with people who love me the way I am-- as cliche as that sounds, it is the truth.
I think that's about all the nothing I can write about right now, so I am going to eat breakfast now-- a cinnamon streusel muffin and perhaps some coffee.

Beauty: A Fallacy in My Thinking AND Roommates Part 5 of 6

2008-11-30T17:00:00.000-08:00

This probably not news to most of you, and it is most certainly not news to me, but I've never though of myself as a beautiful, or even a slightly pretty person. I've just never had that sort of confidence. I've had days or moments when I felt pretty but as a whole, I've never seen myself this way. But as of late, I have come to realize... Or instead let's say that I have been beat over the head with the fact that this is a lie. That it is a fallacy in my thinking and it needs to stop because God is not pleased with the way I've always seen myself.
Here's where the fallacy comes in: It is sort of like the "if/then statements" that you learn about in high school geometry-- like "All 4 sided shapes are quadrilaterals. IF all 4 sided shapes are quadrilaterals and a square has 4 sides THEN it must be a quadrilateral. But in this case it goes something like this:
Everything God makes is beautiful. IF everything God makes is beautiful and God made me, THEN I must be beautiful, too.
I have believed for quite some time that everything that God makes is beautiful. And I apply that to nature, and to other people and to music and to everything I can think of except for myself. Somehow I've always managed to exclude myself from the everything. And in the past it has been pointed out to me that this is an insult to God. And even though I always knew this in my head, I could never translate that to my heart. But recently my head and my heart have started to find agreement-- I have started to recognize, with the help of many people I love, that I am not the exception. God did not make everything beautiful EXCEPT for me... I am included in EVERYTHING.
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Roommates Part 5 of 6 - The Extremist
The Extremist was the most... let's just say interesting... of the Christian roommates I've had. We'll call her Dawn for the sake of the story. That is not, of course, her real name.
Dawn was, as I said before, a friend of a friend who moved into our three bedroom apartment on the day of my graduation ceremony. She did not have a car, but she borrowed her mother's for the move. We later found out that she also did not have a bed. Apparently she sold these things a few months prior because she wanted to live more simply. She told us that she wanted to sleep on the floor so that she could more easily relate to the suffering that was felt by persecuted Christians where they are not free to worship Jesus. We just nodded and smiled and went with it for the time being.
So for about a week after Dawn moved in, she slept on the floor and so on. But then one night I came home from work at about 2:30 am and there she was, sleeping on the futon in the living room. So much for getting a little snack before bed. This continued for about a month until she finally went out and bought a futon of her very own. Well, actually I think her mom bought her bed because she wasn't working at the time, but whatever...
During this same period of time that she was sleeping on the floor/living room futon, she was also doing the Daniel Fast as a full time diet. She would concoct strange soups in my slow cooker and leave them in there for days. All the while she would nibble on whatever food Becca and I had purchased for ourselves. Actually perhaps nibble is not the proper word. One time she ate a half a loaf of wheat bread in one sitting. Another time she ate a box of taco shells-- just the shells. And still another time she consumed a container of DRY OATMEAL. She said that she was doing the Daniel Fast because she had a wheat allergy, but she kept eating our wheat products in mass quantities. At one point she accused me of being a bad Christian sister. She told me that by buying wheat products and keeping them in the house, that I was causing her to stumble. Because apparently she was never supposed to have to develop self control.
Ah, and if only this is where the entertainment ended. But alas, there is still more to be said about Dawn. During that summer, the fifth Harry Potter book came out. Now I know it's not uncommon for Christians to be opposed to Harry Potter, and I'm fine with that. But when the fifth Harry Potter book came out, Becca and I had my niece, who was 11 at the time, come with us to the release party and then spend the night at our place. The next morning Dawn comes out of her bedroom, asks what we did the night before, and the instant that we tell her she goes into a rant about the evils of Harry Potter and how I am corrupting my niece and she can't believe that I would be such a bad influence on her-- all of this in front of my niece. Then when after her grandma came to take her home, the lecture began. She pulled out her Bible and started reading me verses and following me around the apartment ranting about how horrible Harry Potter is. I asked her if she'd ever read any of the books to which she responded with a resounding NO-- at which point I asked her to kindly butt out because she had no idea what she was talking about. I told her that her issues are not always going to be mine and she needed to just deal with it. Eventually she left me alone on the matter.
And now for the final piece of entertainment for this tale-- I guess this roommate is more a series of stories rather than one continuous one-- the trip to the emergency room.
So shortly after Dawn's 30th birthday, we had planned a trip to go to Great America for Joyfest-- I invited her because I didn't want to go alone. At the time, I was working the 4:00pm -12:30am shift and had split days off. In order to accommodate for my trip, I had to switch shifts with a coworker, which put me in the position of having to work a long shift on the Wednesday before we left. So instead of my usual 4:00 start time, I had started at noon that day. By the time I got home, I was exhausted and I went to bed immediately. I barely even took the time to change into my pajamas before falling asleep.
About an hour after I fell asleep, there was a pounding on my bedroom door. And then another. Then a yell-- "Jeni! Jeni! I think I need to go to the hospital. Jeni? Can you hear me?" And then some more pounding. After a couple of minutes I'm able to drag myself out of bed, and there is Dawn outside of my door with a blood soaked towel wrapped around her finger. So I put some shoes on-- I was not about to change out of my pajamas-- and we headed for the hospital. Turns out, Dawn had cut off her finger tip while cutting an apple. As we left the apartment, I couldn't help but notice that all of the lights were out in the apartment. I thought it was strange that she would turn out the lights after cutting herself-- but of course this is not what happened. She cut her fingertip off while cutting an apple IN THE DARK because she was "afraid that she would wake us up" if she turned on the light. Eh, whatever. So while we're on the way to the hospital, she tells me that we will have to throw away the towel. And the sponge in the sink. And we should probably bleach the sink, the knife and the cutting board. Because Dawn had Hepatitis B, which is spread through the blood-- so we needed to make sure that there was no blood lingering anywhere.
So we go to the hospital and I hang out in the waiting room while Dawn gets her finger taken care of. And by the time I get home, I am COMPLETELY wiped out-- but not so wiped out that I forget to babysit her while she tosses the towel, sponge and APPLE and takes them to the dumpster then bleaches the sink, knife and cutting board.
Fortunately, a month later our lease was up and Becca and I decided that the apartment in Lemmon Valley was no longer the place for us. And since Dawn's parents lived in Stead, she decided to go back to their house. And on Thanksgiving Day (yes, again!) Becca and I moved to an apartment in Sparks where my brother joined us. Turns out my brother was the BEST roommate I ever had. Who would have thought?

And I'm Back With Roommates Part 4

2008-11-15T07:31:00.001-08:00

To anybody who is still reading, sorry for the delay. I'm back here with more stories of roommate rendezvous--or whatever you want to call them. There will also be new poetry posted on my emo blog--it's not exactly emo, but it's more emo than the roommates story, so that's where it's going for now. So without further ado:

Roommates (Part 4 of 6) The Time in Between:

After my ex-best friend's sister moved out in November of 2002, my remaining roommate (now known as my SIL, also known as Becca) and I signed another year lease in the same apartment and decided to try to find a perfect third roommate. The problem with this was that neither of us could actually REALLY afford not to have a third roommate.
It seemed as though things were going to work out well when a friend of my SIL's that she knew from work got kicked out of his parents' house. It seemed like the perfect situation-- we needed a third roommate, he needed an inexpensive place to live-- perfect, right?
He moved into our apartment on Thanksgiving Day when Becca and I were hosting a murder mystery dinner for our parents for Thanksgiving. So the roommate number 3 and his friend show up, make a couple of trips to get his things, and when they finally come back for the murder mystery dinner, they are carrying beer--I'm not sure how they got it, since they were both 18. This put me in quite the awkward position being that I was the only one living at the apartment who was legal drinking age. I told roommate number 3's friend that he could not bring the beer into my apartment where I was the only resident of legal drinking age. He got all huffy with me, and went out to his car where I'm sure he downed at least one of the beers. He came back in for dinner and was basically snarky with me the entire night about how uncool I was for not letting him drink. Whatever.
After that night, things were not bad with roommate number 3. He mostly kept to himself and spent all of his time on the internet. This was a bit of a problem since we had dial-up back then and Becca and I were both in college. We occasionally had to ask him to stop the games so that we could get online for school related things. There was also the debates. Some nights, Becca and I would have these conversations where we just sat up debating things-- politics (which she is very good at, now having her degree in Political Science); religion (which I was very good at due to passion and persistance); hot button types of issues (abortion, gay marriages, etc.). We sometimes got a bit loud during our debates and would eventually end up crying and laughing and baring our souls about things that have made us who we are. And roommate #3 was freaked out by this. He just thought that we were always fighting.
Needless to say, roommate number 3 did not last long. Shortly after Christmas, partway into January, he decided to move in with his beer drinking friend in an apartment closer to town. Lemmon Valley is not a good place for the beer drinkers to live should they have to make a quick escape for more beer.
After roommate #4 moved out in January, we began the search for a new roommate. We put up fliers at UNR since it was just before the beginning of the spring semester--right when lots of people are looking for a new place to live. We got a few phone calls, but most people didn't want to live in Lemmon Valley. We weren't terrible worried for the rest of January because roommate #3 had paid a partial month's rent before he left, so we were okay for money.
We posted our open room on one of the roommate finder sites online, but really had very little luck there. It was a stressful time. I had changed my major from education to English writing in November and that left me needing 5 writing classes and a social science to graduate. So in the spring of 2003, I was enrolled in 4 writing classes, working full time at the Evil K and I had no idea where my future would take me-- I just knew it wouldn't be teaching. That decision was a long time in coming and came after I received a swift kick in the butt from God after two years of nudging had failed. But that's a story best left for another post.
In March we finally got a response from someone on the roommates site. He was a recent college graduate who was going to be doing some science thing with little kids for Americorp. He was moving from Indiana and wanted to have a place lined up before he made his move. So he came to visit the apartment in early March, and we didn't hear from him again. Finally, two weeks later he sent us a message saying that he wanted to be closer to the campus, but that he had really enjoyed meeting us. So we continued into April in the same frenzy we'd been in for most of February and all of March. I was particularly frenzied with graduation looming near. That semester I had 150 pages of final portfolio work due at the end of the semester and every paper I'd written for the entire semester had to be reviewed and revised one more time. And things were exceedingly tight with just two of us paying rent-- but emotionally it was a very easy time. During that time Becca was quite a good roommate even if it was a little weird having my brother stay the night every Friday.
Finally, at the beginning of May a friend of mine let me know that she had a friend who was looking for a roommate. We eagerly took her information and made contact. She came to look at the apartment and decided to move in ASAP. So she gradually moved her things in and while I was receiving my unofficial diploma at UNR's graduation ceremony (I wasn't officially done until August), she was moving the last of her things into our apartment.

Stay tuned next week for Part 5 where you will learn all of the terrors of the new Roommate #3.

A New Blog

2008-10-29T21:20:00.000-07:00

So, since I generally stop blogging when I'm feeling emo, and I've been encouraged not to do so, I have created another blog that will be all about those emo days. The link is in my menu on the left and it will include all my emo rants, poems, songs, etc. If you are into emo, then you can pop over there every once in a while to get your dose-- and if you're not then you can just pretend like my emo blog doesn't exist and just hang out at this one. The current feature on my emo blog is a lament-ish sort of poem. If you visit, then I hope you enjoy!

Random Thoughts-- And Roommates Pt 3 of 6

2008-10-26T22:09:00.000-07:00

Random Thoughts:
*Right now, my seven favorite people in the world are the people who came to help me move yesterday. I am all moved and my old apartment is already completely cleaned and ready to go. I suppose that the one person who offered to come but was unable due to circumstances beyond his control can be included, therefore making it my EIGHT favorite people in the world.
*My dad and my brother are the most dependable men that I know. I owe them a fabulous Mexican dinner and some beer.
*I can see cows from my kitchen window.
*Bowling left-handed is challenging. It's helping me learn to laugh at myself a lot more. (I know that I already laugh at myself a lot-- but usually only with friends, not strangers.)
*Earlier, I was watching TV and there was a commercial on about one of those expensive programs that is supposed to prevent identity theft. It's good to know that our most important identity, the one of "Child of God," cannot be stolen from us.
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Roommates Part 3 - My ex-best friend's sister and my brother's girlfriend

After the special experience I was treated to my second year in the dorms, I decided it was time to move on to greener pastures. Then I realized that I am in Nevada, and therefore the pastures are BROWN. While the dorms were not the most pleasant living experience, they were still a vast improvement over living with my parents. So during the seconds semester of my las year in the dorms, I started looking for roommates to share an apartment with. Conveniently, my brother's girlfriend (also known as my current sister-in-law) decided that she wanted to move into an apartment around the same time. To keep it affordable, we decided that we should find a third roommate and get a three bedroom apartment. The third roommate wound up being my ex-best friend's sister who was the same as as my brother and his girlfriend, and who'd had a crazy crush on my brother since they were about 12, though she would never admit it.
To make it clear, the ex-best friend wasn't an ex-best friend because of anything bad that happened. She just moved away for college and we drifted a part. She was actually quite a good friend for most of high school. She was the friend I went to church with occasionally. The trouble was, both her and her sister, who would become my roommate, were raised in a rather legalistic Christian home and were not really allowed any sort of freedoms. So when my friend went off to college, she rebelled and became a bit of a wild child for a few year. These were the same few years when I was beginning to find myself and my identity as a Christian-- We drifted apart because we were headed in different directions.
I have to admit that when I found out that her sister was looking to move out of their parents' house, I was excited for several reasons-- The first was that I had hoped that it would bring me closer to my friend again. The second was that I had hoped that she wouldn't feel the need to rebel against her parents if she had moved out of the house and was living with someone she felt comfortable to be herself around; afterall, she had known me for about eleven years by this point. And the third was that I thought that maybe if her and I went to church together, we could get my brother's girlfriend to go with us, too.
As I'm sure you can guess, I was overly optomistic. By the time we all moved into the apartment in May of 2002, she had already rebelled, though I didn't know it yet. It turned out that she was dating a guy several years older than her and after a few weeks, we basically acquired a fourth roommate. Her boyfriend started spending the night most nights. She never warned us when he was going to be there, she never asked if it was okay and she let him eat all of our food. At first, my now SIL and I tried to include her when we made plans for dinner or nights in, or whatever, but she always turned us down. Then her boyfriend would show up and they would lock themselves in her room. There were several problems with this plan:
1) He was practically living with us, but was not paying rent.
2) He would oversleep, then try to rush to take a shower in our home, where he was not paying rent, or utilities, and would wind up making my SIL late, even though she had woken up in what should have been plenty of time to get ready.
3) She asked me to lie to her parents if I happened to see them at church. That if they asked I should tell them that she was not sleeping with her boyfriend and that he didn't stay the night. I made it clear that I would not lie for her, but fortunately her parents never asked me anything.
4) There were three shows that my SIL and I watched together every week at the same time every week. And every time the other roommate's boyfriend would be playing video games and would get pissy with us when we asked him to let us watch the show, and then even more pissy when we suggested that if he paid rent then he would have the right to decide what the living room TV was to be used for.

Who would have ever thought that it would be more awkward to have her boyfriend stay the night than to have my brother stay once a week?

Fortunately, we had only signed a 6 month lease, and when that 6 months was up, the third roommate decided to leave (sigh of relief) stating that she just didn't feel welcome because we didn't include her in anything and because we didn't like her boyfriend (aka the leach). Good riddance!

The Dorms Part II (Post 2 of 6)

2008-10-21T22:05:00.000-07:00

Fall of 2001
I returned to the dorms for a second year in the fall semester of 2001. I remained in the same room because my friend T and I had decided we wanted to continue living in the same suite. We didn't really know anyone else that we wanted to live with, so we decided to just wait and see who we wound up with. This may not have been the best idea. This was my first experience with Christian roommates, and I am quite sad to say that it was not a good one.
I had started attending Intervarsity Christian Fellowship during the previous school year and had met quite a few new people. Four of those new people wound up being my new roommates, and they were all best friends to boot. This would not have been so bad had it not been for the fact that this was the year I was working graveyard at the Evil K and they were VERY loud best friends. But of course that was not the worst of it. I was used to not getting much sleep-- that's what college is all about. There were several other quirks that made this an interesting year-- though nothing quite as umm... let's just say special, as the previous year.
For example-- all four of these girls were from Las Vegas. To them it was cold when the temperature got down to 80 degrees. They started wearing sweaters in early September. And that was their choice to make-- but they also started turning on the heat and setting it to 70 degrees around the same time. Since I was trying to sleep as much as I could during the day because I worked at night, we developed a heater war. I would turn it off in the morning when I laid down to go to sleep so that I wouldn't melt, and I would wake up a few hours later covered in sweat because it had been turned back on. And there's more:
As you may have inferred from the previous post, my best friend at the time was a male. If you have known me long enough and well enough, you may even know who the male is. This is only relevant because he was also a part of the Intervarsity group that I was a part of and therefore all of my new roommates also knew who he was and had an opinion about our friendship. They had decided amongst themselves to create a set of rules regarding how they felt they needed to behave around males, and they claimed that this list of rules were the way that all Christian girls (I say girls and not women because they were 19...) should live. The rules, as best as I can remember, were as follows:
1) Girls shall not spend time alone with a guy at any time.
2) Girls should not be in mixed company (ie, guys and girls together; same place, same time) after midnight
3) Girls should only have friends who are girls.

Needless to say, I broke each of these rules-- I did not feel that it was inappropriate for a single girl and a single guy to hang out together in public, nor did I feel it was inappropriate to be in mixed company after a certain hour. For this, I was never really accepted among them and was constantly being "confronted" (because that's what people did in Intervarsity) with claims that they were "concerned" with the choices I was making. What this really means is that I received numerous lectures about the dangers of having a male best friend-- primarily that even Christian guys could not be trusted to control their urges, and the fact that I trusted my best friend implicitely was somehow an indication that I was not right with God.
Now, you would think that a group of girls who were so anti-guy would be above the drama of celebrity gossip... Not so. These girls were obsessed with celebrity gossip-- who was dating who, who was having a baby and who was the daddy. Apparently, it was okay for them because they weren't Christians. Why a group of Christian girls who were deadset against relationships would condone the glamorization of celebrities' rocky romances is beyond me. It didn't really bother me most of the time.
But there was just one time when it went a little bit far. I came home one afternoon after class and I found the four of them in the living room with a box of tissues, all of them crying. I got worried. Had somebody died? Was somebody sick? Was it somebody I knew also? I waited a minute and then I asked what was wrong. A couple of them blew their noses, rather dramatically, before one of the girls opened her mouth and sobbed, "Justin and Brittany broke up," which was followed by some more nose blowing. (Keep in mind that this was back when Justin Timberlake was a boy-bander dating Brittany Spears who was likely just as trashy then as she is now...) This rather unimportant and predictable event elicited almost as severe of a reaction as what these girls had on September 11, which we all experienced together that year. How can anybody feel that this was an appropriate reaction? How does the end of the relationship between "Justin and Brittany" affect us? And that was pretty much how the whole school year went. Between the lectures about my "inappropriate friendship" and the overdramatization of the impact of celebrity relationships on our everyday lives, the noise, the heat, I was quite relieved when the school year was over.

After a Monthlong Delay...

2008-10-16T19:59:00.000-07:00

I am proud to present my series on roommates as promised before my life momentarily imploded. Reconstruction has begun, and I am now ready to write these stories, which I hope will be entertaining if nothing else. The series will be six parts and will only include the most entertaining roommate stories. These stories are really about my crazy roommates--not the roommates I enjoyed my time with. I will be changing the names just because that's what writers do when they write about real people. :) I hope ya'll enjoy the series, and I hope they are worth the wait. Just as a teaser, the six parts will be as follows:
1) The Dorms, Part I
2) The Dorms, Part II
3) My Ex-Best Friend's Little Sister and My Brother's Girlfriend
4) The Time In Between
5) The Extremist
6) The Faux-Vegan and the Gamer (Or 4 Evil K-er's in One House?!!!)

The Dorms Part I

In the fall of 2000, I did something quite out of the ordinary and moved into the dorms for my first senior year of college. It had originally been my mom's suggestion, but somehow I became really excited about it. I moved into Canada Hall in August of 2000. My roommate was to be a Japanese student, which I had hoped would be an interesting experience. When I arrived on the day we were able to move in, my suite was already completely occupied. The living room was already set up, the kitchen shelves were all full, the bathroom counter had things piled all around and on my first day I was already feeling shut out. It turns out that I was moving into a suite with 4 Japanese students and a student athlete who had already been there for the whole summer together.
After about a week, I had a small space on the very top shelf and a drawer in the kitchen, a part of a shelf in the bathroom and of course my half of a bedroom. I also had three Japanese suitemates who were extremely shy but talked to me a bit, a Japanese roommate who wasn't shy, but who didn't talk to me and a student athlete suitemate who spent almost no time in the suite. I don't even remember my roommate's name, but I do know that she was a biology major. She was planning on going to med school because it was what her parents wanted, and she was dating a black man because it was what her parents didn't want. This much I got from the shy suitemates during our limited conversations. I'm also not sure whether she actually ever finished college because she was quite the party animal.
Unfortunately, there was nothing terribly noteworthy about these suitemates, and I was not making any friends. So when a space opened up in my friend's suite across the hall for the next semester, I jumped at the chance to make the move. I would not be roommates with my friend-- neither of us wanted to jeopardize our friendship in that way-- but I would at least have a friendly face in my suite. Plus I'd met a couple of her suitemates and they also seemed nice enough. It was looking like the spring semester was going to be MUCH better.
Fall semester drug on and on, and finally it was December and my new suitemates had told me that I could start moving my things in before it was time to go home for Christmas break. We set a date and I prepped myself for the move across the hall. Come moving day, they had cleared two full shelves for my food in the kitchen, plus one smaller shelf for my dishes and a drawer for my silverware and other similar things. My room was supposed to be ready for me to move in. My future roommate had been told that she needed to gather her things and get them all on her side of the room so that I could move in but when I opened up my room, I discovered that she had made no attempt to prepare for my arrival. Her clothes were strewn all over my side of the room and there was a blanket covering some boxes on the bed that would soon be mine. My friend came in and helped me toss her clothes over to her side of the room. She stepped out after that was done, and I proceed to remove the things from the bed. I picked up the blanket and before I could toss it across the room, I realized what was in the boxes on the bed. It was her umm... let's just say her personal pleasure toys. I was startled and disgusted all at once. I didn't know what to do. So I covered up the boxes with the blanket, wrapped it all the way around and tossed the whole package across the room and onto her bed. And then I considered burning the mattress, but I figured I would probably be charged for it, so I just settled for flipping it over.
I wish I could tell you that was my only encounter with her personal pleasure toys, but unfortunately it was not. We would meet again soon, during the spring semester, in a much less subtle way. I know that this first encounter was not at all subtle, and yet, it gets worse.
When we all returned for the spring semester, I almost never saw my new roommate. The suitemates said she spent a lot of time at her boyfriend's house in Carson. What they didn't tell me, was what she did with her boyfriend when she stayed at home in the dorms. So about four weeks into the semester, I came home late one night after hanging out with my best friend and my roommate was already asleep. I left the lights off and went to my computer and was instant messaging with my best friend (yes, I know I had just left him, but we were bored college students awake at 2am with nothing better to do) while I was working on an assignment for the next day. I heard my roommate's phone ring and I heard her answer. I expected it to be quite brief since she had been sleeping, but then I heard her start moaning. I continued my instant message conversation, thinking that maybe she'd just been yawning because she was tired. But then I heard a buzzing noise and the moaning proceeded to get louder and louder, until it became screaming. I called my best friend on the phone thinking that maybe she just didn't realize I was awake and that if she heard me talking, she would be embarrassed and stop. But instead, I wound up giving my best friend a sneak peek of what was happening in my suite, because she just proceeded to get louder and the buzzing persisted. I decided to go back to my best friend's room for a little while and left the room just as she was saying, "And now I am touching..."
The next day, she started up a conversation with me, as though nothing abnormal had occurred. I played nice, all the while just wanting to hurl as I tried to block out the buzzing sound.
Fortunately, that was the last time I saw her. Apparently she moved to Carson to be with her boyfriend, ditching her student housing contract and leaving me with a room to myself. I didn't find out about this until two weeks later when I came home after a weekend at my parents' house to find all of her things cleared out of the room. And by all of her things I mean everything that buzzed or hummed was gone, but she did leave me an unopened bottle of Kahlua, so I guess the experience wasn't all bad.

Breaking Free from Unforgiveness

2008-10-13T21:50:00.000-07:00

Over the last few weeks, I have started several posts about the fabulous "Growing Up" series-- particularly about the need to break away from the ways of our families. I have found several unhealthy ways of living that are passed down through my family, such as secrecy, shame and self-sufficiency (that was actually the title of one of my prospective posts). But today I realized the one that is the most crippling, and the one that I drew the line on several years ago--unforgiveness and holding a grudge. That's not to say that I am always perfect at forgiving, in fact FAR from it, but unforgiveness is the biggest thing that I have drawn the line on and said "NOT IN MY HOUSE."
I have talked about my family and their lack of communication skills on my blog before. This was a major roadblock in my life for a very long time. I used to keep everything hidden, to myself-- but my tongue was let free almost immediately when I accepted Jesus' gift. The unforgiveness was a harder one to deal with. My whole life, my mother had used her unforgiveness as a punishment. She would scream at us so that we knew that she was mad, and then she would punish us with the silent treatment until we caved and apologized, whether we were guilty or not. And my dad stood by and went along with it, but when she was not around, he let it be known that he didn't agree with her ways. I, on the other hand, was always the vocal one, always making it clear when I thought something was not right, always trying to get what was fair and right, even if it was somebody else that my mother was angry with. As I'm sure you can imagine, this meant I got more than my fair share of unforgiveness. And I eventually always caved and apologized for whatever I had not done wrong. Actually, simply apologizing was never enough-- it was actually more like grovelling.
I drew the line on this about four years ago, not realizing at the time what a difference it would make. It was about a week before Thanksgiving and I was at my parents' house for a visit. My mom was making dinner and she went to the sink to fill up a pot and found that there were dirty dishes from the night before in the sink. At this point, she began to scream at my dad, berate my dad, rant at my dad, etc about how lazy he was and how if she hadn't married him her life would be so much easier and so on. This had been going on for weeks before this, every time I came over, my mom would ruin my ability to enjoy my time with them by flying off the handle on my dad. I'd had enough-- and I will admit right now, this was FAR from my finest moment--I stepped in for my dad, since he never stood up for myself... Only it came out totally wrong and I asked my mother, "If you are so f---ing miserable, why don't you divorce him." Now let me make it clear-- this was a very poor attempt to make my mother realize that she was being overdramatic and that dirty dishes in the sink were not cause for divorce. I am fully aware that what I said was wrong. And I immediately apologized. However, my mom would have none of it. She turned her wrath on me. But it wasn't the suggestion of divorce that had made her angry as I would have thought, it was the fact that I used the f word in her house. I am aware that this was not a good thing to say, and I have only let it slip a handful of times when I was EXTREMELY angry as an adult. I apologized again, quite sincerely, crying of course, as is my nature, but still she would not even take a break from her yelling. And this is the important part-- I am, and was immediately, fully aware that what I said was wrong. And I made my attempts to seek forgiveness. My mom told me to give my house key to my dad and get out. I did as requested and went home. For a couple of days I was miserable. I made my attempts to apologize, to seek forgiveness, and I fully understand my mother being angry for what I said, but she was not open to hear my apologies-- she hung up the phone each time I called for the first couple of days. And then she told my sister-in-law (though then she was just my brother's girlfriend) that she was having Thanksgiving dinner at her house and that I probably wouldn't be coming since I still hadn't apologized. At this point, I decided to break the pattern. I had made my apologies, several times and I was not going to grovel this time. I had said all I could possibly say, and there was nothing left for me to do. So I just let the situation be. I made my own plans with friends for Thanksgiving. After all, being miserable wasn't going to make my mother speak to me, and holding a grudge against her for holding a grudge against me wasn't going to do anything but make me unhappy. So for the first and only time in my life, I had Thanksgiving separate from my family. And I enjoyed myself.
Several days later, my mother apparently realized that I was not going to grovel this time and she sent me an instant message. We talked that way for several minutes and then she called me. She talked as though we hadn't fought-- I had let it go several days before, and since she was ready to let go, we were back on track. Since then, I have made it clear that I will not tolerate the dad-bashing, and I have also made it clear to my father that I will not tolerate mom-bashing. It is their relationship and I should not be expected to pick sides. They still do it, but I remind them that I don't have to come to see them if they are going to put my in that sort of situation. Additionally, as my communication skills have improved, both of my parents have come to communicate better with me. This doesn't mean that my mom doesn't occasionally fly off the handle, but I don't really fight back anymore. If she wants to be miserable and angry, that is her choice, but that is not something I want for myself. If only they could extend this improved communication into their relationship with one another. They both need it, especially my mother, but they just continue in their old ways.
I wish I could say that the effect of this unforgiveness in my family is only emotional, but there is definitely a physical aspect as well. My mom has a slew of health issues and most recently has discovered that she has rheumatoid arthritis-- this is important because it is aggravated by stress. I have noticed that when she hurts the most is when she is angry at my father for some thing he has done or not done that he was supposed to know on his own that he should do. If I could, I would explain to her that by getting angry with him for every single unintentional slight, the only thing she is accomplishing is causing herself pain, both physically and emotionally.
So the train stops here-- I am not willing to cause myself pain by holding a grudge.

Finito

Processing the Emo

2008-10-07T22:12:00.000-07:00

Things are starting to catch up with me. I don't like not doing things I would normally do the way I would normally do them. I don't like feeling inept and I don't like needing help. Yes, I know this is an issue and yes I am working on it, but I don't like it. I don't like asking for time off from work in small amounts twice a week. It makes me feel like a nuisance. And I feel like an idiot. I feel like there should have been something I could have done to prevent myself from tripping on my pajama pants and making a mess of my life at the moment. My head knows that it could not be prevented, that it was just one of those freak things that could happen to anyone. But the enemy is telling me that I screwed up big time. That I've made a mess, dug a hole that's going to be hard to get out of. I feel like I'm not getting better fast enough, even though I'm still within the time line that was given to me. I just want this whole thing to be done, and yet is nowhere near being done-- I have at least two and a half more weeks of therapy left, depending on how things go, and we are just starting the grip/strengthening on Thursday of this week, depending on how I feel. Mostly my pride is hurt. It's stupid, I know, but that is the reality of the situation. I'm tired of laughing it off and I'm tired of the pajama jokes and it's probably just because I'm cranky right now, but that's part of the emo that I'm feeling right now.
I have 18 days before I move and I am freaking out. I am being quite bad in that I am not trusting that I will be taken care of. I'm kicking and screaming and trying to hold onto the control that I'm simultaneously trying to let go of. Ugh. What is the matter with me? Why is it so difficult for me to accept that the people who truly love me are genuine in their desire to help? I have a genuine desire to help those I love, so why should I expect it to be any different on the flip side? How did I get this stubborn and controlling? I think it is a bad habit picked up from my family, and the hardest one by far to move past--particularly as a single individual. My head knows all of this and my heart is trying to get in line with my head.
I am physically and mentally drained. I need to stop worrying, because all it is doing is making me more tired. I don't know why I'm telling ya'll this, except that maybe seeing it in writing will make it easier for me to do.
At any rate, it is time for bed. Tomorrow is another day, a better day. :)

The little things

2008-09-29T20:01:00.000-07:00

*My elbow dimple is starting to come back, and it's barely yellow now-- almost back to its pasty off-white color. Yay!
*I started my physical therapy today. It was pretty crappy, but not as bad as I thought, which I guess is good. We are working on getting comfortable with the full range of movement right now. My next appointment is Thursday and I will only have to request 15 minutes off from work. I'm sure the scheduling lady will love that one. :)
*I ate sushi left handed today. It was quite entertaining. The kind man at the sushi place gave me the chopsticks like the kids use that are kind of like big tweezers...
*Right now I am watching Dancing with the Stars. It is almost time for Mr. Tasty, I mean Rocco.
*This week I am hoping to start the series on my roommates of the past that I had promised. I had intended to start that a few weeks ago before the whole moving/elbow/everything going wrong fiasco. I'll probably get to that about Thursday-ish.
*Two more contests I'm intending to enter this year. The first is the Writer's Digest Short Short Fiction contest, with a December 9 deadline and the second is the Glamour magazine essay contest with a December 31 deadline. Mainly, this is about setting goals and meeting them.
*Another thing I am (being forced to) work on is asking for and accepting help. I am quite stubborn and do not like handing over control. I like to know exactly when and how things are going to get done and I'm having to let go of that for this move because I cannot do everything. I have to just have faith that things will be okay and everything will get done. I have to be patient with myself which is also not something that I am good at. I tend to expect much more of myself than I would of any other person that I know. Me and my darned unrealistic expectations... :P
*I am looking forward to moving and going jogging in the park across the street from my new apartment. Because the industrial jungle on the path I follow here at this apartment does nothing to motivate me to keep on pushing--Not that I've been going out for the last few weeks anyhow, but still... I am also looking forward to the indoor hot tub at my new apartment complex. And good, non-Starbucks coffee within walking distance.
*The fortune cookie that I ate this evening (they gave me three with my Chinese food on Friday-it was the only part of the order that didn't make me sick...) said "The hard times will begin to fade. Joy will take their place."
*Happy Monday!

Elbow-gate 2008

2008-09-24T10:04:00.000-07:00

So I just got home from having my Jolly Green Giant appendage removed, and I have to say, doctors irritate the crap out of me. Last week, they told me that they did not see anything on the x-ray but they were treating it as a radial head fracture based on the symptoms, type of accident and lack of being better. They said that with that type of fracture, it is commonly not seen on early x-rays and sometimes not seen at all if it's small and they just treat based on the symptoms. Today they say no fracture after all, but a moderate to severe sprain which apparently works out worse for me because apparently elbow sprains are not at all common and it takes an especially talented person to do such a thing. Apparently elbow fractures are more common than sprains and that's why they go there first. (Click on the links above to see the items I found online supporting what they told me... Okay, so I'm too anal for my own good...) Then, just a couple of minutes later-- the fracture could be there, but it would heal more quickly than the sprain... Make up your minds already!!!
So, now the Jolly Green Giant appendage is gone and replaced with ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. I thought I would be happy to be free of the thing, but honestly, it feels worse to have no support-- except of course the happy little sling from the ER that the PA told me to use-- is it normal to be nervous about being liberated? Because I'm terrified! I guess that freedom can always lead to fear...
So my physical therapy starts on Monday and I am on lifting restriction for 6-8 weeks. No lifting, pushing, pulling, turning-- just bending and straightening exercises along with rotations. Oh yeah, and apparently it's best not to drive because this can result in lifting, pushing, pulling and turning, even if you try to avoid it. And to quote the PA that I saw today-- "And no lifting means no lifting. Not even so much as an empty coffee cup." Hmm... I wonder how I'm going to pack those empty coffee cups. He he he... Apparently this is to be re-evaluated in 1 month, which happens to be the day before I move. This should be interesting. But the PT will work with me to start lifting and all the other normal movements... I'm considering attempting to re-establish my average for bowling left-handed...
On the positive side, the left-handed diet seems to be working out pretty well. I'm down 9 lbs in two weeks... It's amazing how much less you feel like eating when eating is such hard work. Ha ha ha! I wonder if a fork also falls under the lifting restriction. Maybe an empty fork is okay, but a full fork-- don't even think about it. Okay, so now I'm just being a little bit silly. I need to in order to stay sane!

If you are reading this, please pray for peace for me. This is too much stuff happening all at once and I just need to keep on pushing along. I was actually feeling mostly calm until after my appointment. I think the reality of the no lifting and its effects on moving are beginning to sink in. I'm doing my best to take it one day at a time. And one coffee mug at a time... :)

Some random things...

2008-09-22T22:12:00.000-07:00

* I am currently reading a book written by Hugh Laurie (yes, as in House) in 1996. Who knew that Hugh Laurie wrote a spoof spy novel? I found it on the buy two get one free table (which I, of course, frequent) and I had to buy it.
* I am happy that I can watch House tomorrow rather than taping it. Because usually it's on at the same time as the Dancing with the Stars results show, but since it starts earlier this season... HOORAY for Lazy Tuesday!
* And on Lazy Tuesday there will be far too much hotness for me to handle. This may be highly inappropriate but in addition to a couple of the pros, there is also one particularly tasty celebrity. Tasty because he's a cook-- and he's sizzling hot. He he he... enough cooking jokes. Then there's House. I think I'm drooling already just thinking about tomorrow's television viewing. Wednesday it will be back to reading.
* Ugh. Moving stresses me out. Moving when I'm not fully functional-- Ay caramba! My goal is to call somebody every time the stress makes me feel like eating something unhealthy. I've been quite good lately, though mostly only because things are not agreeing with me anymore and I'm trying to figure out what items cause problems and which are okay.
* And following that previous thought, what's up with that? All of a sudden after I turned 28 my body has started rebelling against me in every way possible. I guess now that I'm 29 I need to work harder to fix that.
* I don't want to wait until January to find out about the essay contest. I don't know why I care because the odds that I will win are probably in the negative numbers, but for some reason I have this tiny glimmer of hope floating around inside of my head. And I know that now matter what happens, I've done something good because I actually followed through on that goal.
* I have decided that I think that all people should be taught to be ambidextrous from the time they are small children. It would make life a lot easier.
* I am not a clumsy person. Following my recent incident, people have made many jokes about my clumsiness and for some reason it really bugs me even though I know I'm not clumsy. Yes, I had a singular clumsy moment, but that is not my nature. I generally don't drop things, trip over things or lose my balance. I have never done ANYTHING like that before and will hopefully never do anything like that again. I have no idea why I'm so touchy about that, but every time somebody makes a clumsy joke, it makes me cranky. Maybe because I've been trying so hard to laugh off the fact that I was ungraceful enough to catch my toe in my opposite leg pajama pants that it's made it seem like the kind of thing that happens to me all of the time--even though it doesn't.
* My co-workers make me happy. On the claims side of the building, everyone is so much more easy going and nobody really hates their job. Also, they're not so much girly-girls with all the gossip and cattiness that was predominant on the customer service side. Most of the claims women are the low maintenance and quirky types. Still almost all women, but much easier to get along with women. Very pleasant. At least there's no stress in that part of my life.
* As much crazy stuff that's going on with me recently, I am actually quite happy. I suppose being loved by people around you can do that. I feel like recently I've stopped focusing so much on the love that I don't have (romantic love) and more on the love I do (God's love, family love, love of friends). Hopefully I can keep on with this, because it feels pretty darn good.
* What, you expected me to keep coming up with random things? No way! It's time for bed!

I may be stubborn, but I am not left-handed

2008-09-16T17:34:00.000-07:00

So, as many of ya'll know, I had a minor incident last week resulting in what is more than likely a fractured elbow. Apparently with this type of elbow injury, which is caused by falling and landing on outstretched arms, essentially jamming the elbow, a fracture is rarely detected on the initial x-ray, and therefore additional x-rays have to be done at a later time if mobility has not significantly improved in about a week. So tomorrow, I will go to the orthopedic clinic for my additional x-rays and more thorough examination. If they are as gentle as the x-ray technician at the hospital, I'm imagining this will be something akin to torture.

Now you may be wondering about the extraordinarily talented thing I may have done to injure myself in such a way, and I have to tell you, the kids at church (and perhaps one adult!) were very helpful in coming up with some stories that are FAR more exciting than the reality.
1) I was skydiving.
2) I was wrestling an alligator in Florida.
3) I fell off of a building.
4) Rollerderby

The reality is that my toe caught in the opposite leg of my pajama pants and I kind of flew, landing on my outstretched arms, primarily the right, and ended up on the floor. That is the best description I can give as it happened so incredibly fast that there was no thought involved until I was already on the floor. I can tell you, however, that it was my black thermal Tinkerbell pajama pants that caused the fall. Is that enough detail for you?

I thought I just had a sore muscle from catching myself on the floor, but as the evening went on it was apparent this was not the case. I was going to try suck it up and see how I felt on Thursday, but when I laid down to go to sleep, all those little moves that you don't realize that you're making were killer. So my dad came and picked me up and I officially checked in for my first ever ER visit at 12:02 am on Thursday. It went fairly quickly and I was home by 1:30 am with my arm wrapped up to look like a limb of the Michelin Man.

Since Thursday, it has become apparent to anyone who didn't previously know, that I am too darn stubborn for my own good. Some of my friends as well as my parents have at moments, become irritated by my refusal to allow them to help me. I just like taking care of myself-- even when I was a child, when I was sick I would still get up and get my own juice or crackers or 7-up. It's just the way I am. Even though I am not a lefty, I'm doing my best to function like one because life does not get put on hold because I was so incredibly ungraceful that I tripped over the pajamas I was wearing. It may earn me a lifetime ride pass for the short bus, but that's about it.

Well, that's all for now. Think good thoughts for me tomorrow when I go to see the orthopedic specialist-- hopefully they'll put me in something smaller and easier to manage. Ironically enough, right as I was typing that, there was a Michelin commercial on TV featuring the Michelin Man. He he he he he!

Asking for help

2008-09-09T21:25:00.000-07:00

This is the post where I do something I'm REALLY not good at--and that thing is asking for help. So the first thing is prayer. I need prayer for finances as I prepare to move on October 25th and for peace and safety until I do. I am just keeping this on my blog because I prefer to keep it among my friends.
Second, I am going to need help with the moving process if anyone is available at any time. There are several parts of this--1) It would be great if any of my friends can just come to keep me company while I pack. I have a horrible time getting things done alone-- I don't really need help packing, just another person there to keep me motivated while I'm doing it. If anyone is interested in helping me out here, I'll make you dinner! 2) I need some muscle for moving day. A buff guy or two to help my dad with the furniture and heavier boxes. (Really the couch is the worst of it...) There will also be some food provided on this day, though probably more like pizza or something similar because there will be too much going on for me to make something fancy--plus my dishes will be packed... : ) 3) Do any of ya'll have a truck? 4) Does anyone need a dresser? It will be free to a good home. It is about six feet wide, 18 or so inches deep and about 30 inches tall (I'm just guessing on these measurements!) It's really good for a young girl because it has a vanity style mirror that's about 2 feet by 3 feet that attaches to the dresser. Here is a picture (please excuse the mess):

So I am bound and determined NOT to take the dresser with me this time. I have been wanting to replace the blasted thing with cubes for years, and now seems like the ideal time-- the dresser goes away and I set up the cubes in the new apartment. It will be a beautiful thing! I am not a fan of dressers because I like to be able to see what I have-- and while the mirror would be great for some girls, it did not succeed in turning me into the girly girl my mother had hoped I would be. At any rate, if any of ya'll want or need the dresser, let me know. I'm willing to give it away to a friend, but if nobody needs it, then I will attempt to sell it on Craig's list for a little bit of cash to put toward my cubes. Hooray!

So that's all for now: prayer for finances, peace and safety; company for my packing adventures; muscle for moving day; cubes; oh yeah, and if any of ya'll have any spare empty boxes lying around, let me know!

Success at last... and a failure

2008-09-07T21:26:00.000-07:00

At last, the dreaded essay of doom has been completed and sent off to Real Simple magazine. Okay, so in my eyes it will never be completed. I could continue working on it for months--or even years-- and never think it was good enough. But I cut myself off. I just sent it off by e-mail. I cannot publish it on my blog quite yet. Until the results of the contest have been determined, the essay cannot appear anywhere else--even if it's just my piddly blog that approximately 7 people read. So if anyone just CAN'T wait (insert sarcasm here) let me know and I will e-mail it to you. I know, it's not likely, but since my last few blog posts have been about this project, who knows.

Next on the agenda-- the failure... I need to move. I didn't want to move until I could afford to buy a place, but the complex is quickly going in the toilet and I would like to escape before I'm completely buried in crap. I know-- it's a beautiful visual, isn't it? So anyway, this week will be spend looking at new apartments because my lease is up at the end of October. I have been considering this for a while now. A new management company took over the complex in about January and everything has just gotten worse since then. My "air conditioner" has never worked properly; they turn the water off to the apartments to fix a leak AT LEAST once a week; the garbage disposal has stopped working and they never actually show up to repair anything; and all of this would be manageable if not for two more major concerns: First, the light outside my door has been burned out for two months and the next light over has been burned out for three... the moral of the story-- I cannot see ANYTHING if I come home after dark, which is completely unsafe for more than one reason. And second, it seems that they have dialed down the security patrol that used to drive around the complex at night because I haven't seen them for months, and I used to see them at lease once every day. These two things combined with recent events in my complex, and I just don't feel comfortable anymore. So I now officially have a month and a half to find a new place, get all packed up and moved out. I hate moving.

That is all.

Overhaulin'

2008-09-01T23:32:00.000-07:00

This just in:
Just days before the submission deadline for the Real Simple essay contest, my essay is being completely overhauled-- It is now going in a completely different direction than I originally intended, and this one seems to flow much more naturally. My old topic felt too force, too wooden-- And of course too lengthy. It was not a story that could any way be told in 1500 words. Trust me-- I've been trying for weeks to condense it, but telling only the bare bones cannot possibly capture the essence of the moment. And tonight, as I was lying in bed, trying to go to sleep, I was thinking about what I could possibly do to make this work. I really did not want to send in a crappy essay just to say I did it, so I tried to think of another moment to write about. But really, how do you condense THE most important moment of your life into 1500 words. In fact, how do you even pinpoint the most important moment of your life? These are all thoughts that rolled through my head within the last hour. And that's when it came to me. The beginning of the 1500 words that will describe the most important day of my life. Now to put pen to paper and get it done. I always have worked better under pressure. Hopefully this will be no exception. Look for the end result in a future post--but it may be a few months!

More than mere words...

2008-08-24T14:47:00.000-07:00

One of my greatest desires is to be able to write in such a way that it is more than mere words that flow from the page, but also joy and laughter, sorrow and heartache. I want to move people to fits of giggles, to action, to tears. I want the write something that stands out, that people will remember, not so that they will remember me, but will remember the story and what it meant to them and they will carry it with them. In my life, I have read probably four or five books that did this for me. I have seen two or three movies like this, and probably two episodes of television that have touched me so much, so deeply that their meaning cannot be forgotten. And yet this is what I want to create-- something so rare that not even the most accomplished writers do it all of the time. And yet, to me, to do anything else would be a failure. And so instead, I do nothing.

It is time to stop doing nothing. The deadline for applications for admission to the Master of Fine Arts program in creative writing at Vanderbilt University is January 15, 2009. I now have less than five months to complete my packet. This morning I tried to create a timeline for myself to get everything done.
Here's what I need:
1) My writing sample. Not just any writing sample, but it will need to be the best thing I've ever written. 25 pages of fiction--- part of a novel or a short story. The goal is to complete the first draft by Oct. 15 and the final draft by December 15.
2) College transcript. I need to head down to UNR and order this by Nov. 15
3) Statement of purpose. Yeah, not quite sure about this one. I can't really include the above in my statement of purpose because it's not really realistic...
4) Three letters of recommendation. Hmmm-- Also not sure about this one. Need to find out who are acceptable people to obtain letters from since I have absolutely no contact with any of my college professors, most of whom have disappeared from the University (or at least those who would have written letters for me.) At any rate, I will ask the people by Oct. 1 and request to have the letters back by Dec. 1.
5) GRE scores. This one is relatively simple since I'm still w/in the 5 year window. After that I would have to take the test again. So I'll just have to order the results online and shell out the twenty bucks to have them sent to another school since Vanderbilt was not even one of my considerations three and a half years ago when I originally took the test.
6) Lots and lots of prayer. Okay, so this is not actually part of the application packet, but really, this is what it's going to take for me to complete this, for me to remain obedient and actually follow through and finish something that I start. I don't usually struggle with follow through in other areas of my life, but in my writing it is a HUGE issue.

Good night and good luck.

A Reward Upon Completion

2008-08-19T21:16:00.000-07:00

Today Season 4 of House came out on DVD. I had intended to wait until after my essay was finished before I bought it, figuring it would be a reward-- but then I realized if I waited I would be paying 10-15 dollars more for it because it is always cheaper when it first comes out. So today I bought the DVDs, saving 10 dollars, plus also acquiring a 5.00 dollar Target gift card with my purchase. Here's the catch-- I am not allowed to WATCH the DVDs until after I finish my essay. Right now I am working on take 2 of my second draft. I have a lot to cut, and my first attempt at a second draft was getting longer rather than shorter. So my deadline for myself is August 31. I have 12 days to finish.

Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Tick Tock.

Things to Come

2008-08-10T18:42:00.000-07:00

Coming up soon, I am going to be providing my readers with tales of some "interesting" roommates I had back before I decided that living alone would be in my best interest. If you are not interested in my roommate experiences, too bad. Blame Erica... She told me I should write about them. He he he.
But before I am allowed to write those thrilling tales, I have to edit my essay for the Real Simple essay contest. The question was "What was the most important day of your life?" and the contest deadline is September 9. After I get my essay sufficiently edited and sent off, then I can write the roommate stories. For those of you interested in reading my essay, you can either ask me about it and I will send it to you, or you can wait until I find out that I didn't win, and then I will post the essay on my blog.
I also found another essay contest that I am planning on entering. It is for Glamour magazine and the deadline is December 31st. That one offers the winner the opportunity to meet with a literary agent. Again, I doubt I have much chance of winning, but (almost) every writer gets many rejections before they get paid for any of their writing, so I will use the cliche statement "nothing ventured, nothing gained" and I will proceed. This essay contest asks writers to simply provide a "real-life story." For this contest, I think I am going to write about the journey to find joy in a life that is nothing like I had imagined it would be or planned it to be. I did not plan on being 29 and single was not anywhere on my timeline (yes, I know I am not 29 yet, but I will be by the time I start work on that essay. And it's not like 28 and single was any more of a walk in the park)-- It was supposed to be something like married by 25, first kid by 28, done with kids by 35 at which time I would be able to stay at home and write for some additional income while caring for the children and the home. I know this goes against the feminist ideal that a lot of my female friends stand for, and usually I do, too, but that is really what I had imagined my life would be like. And most of the time, it's okay that it's not-- but every once in a while, like when another friend announces their engagement, or a pregnancy, or buying their first home with their husband, I get a little bit sad that I am missing all of these things. And my life is a constant journey/battle to try to find peace and joy in my life, just as it is. So this is what my essay will be about for the second essay contest.
Oh, and I am considering re-opening the Cross & Quill blog for all of you writers out there, just for the fun of it. I'll post writing topics on there every once in a while, just like I used to. This is not definite--just something I'm considering.

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!

Another Sleepless Night

2008-08-07T02:52:00.001-07:00

It is almost 3 am. I have to be to work in about 4.5 hours and I have yet to fall asleep. I should be exhausted. I walked to and from work, then to Whole Foods for some shopping and upon my return, I spent the rest of the evening cleaning. I finished cleaning for the night at about 10:45 and headed off to bed. By 12:30 I still had not fallen asleep, so I decided to get up and work on my entry for the essay contest in Real Simple magazine. It's not like I'll actually win, but there's no chance if I don't try, so I'm going for it. I thought I would get tired working on the essay, but no--instead I wrote six pages (handwritten) that have to be edited and shaved down to 1500 words. And I still was not tired. That was at 2 am. I'm almost ready to just give up and stay up until I have to go to work. But that never makes for a good work day. So here I am blogging about sleep, hoping that if I say the word enough times, it will actually make me want to sleep. So I think I hear my pillow calling me back for another attempt.

Good night and good luck!

Getting things in order

2008-07-30T21:38:00.000-07:00

Today, after ending my month and a half long television on DVD binge (which actually ended last Thursday after I finished season 7 of Gilmore Girls), I found myself in a cleaning mood. I cleaned the refrigerator. I folded almost all of the clothes on my bedroom floor. There are still some clothes on my living room floor, but I agreed to myself that I would stop at 9pm. I intend to continue cleaning tomorrow and the next day until I have my apartment organized in a manner that will allow me to function again. When I get depressed I kind of shut down and stop doing anything. I don't clean. I don't cook. I don't go out. I don't do anything. The problem is, that then when I'm done being mopey, things have become TOO overwhelming and so I don't know where to start getting back on track, and so I just ignore it even longer.
The reality is that in the year and a half that I have lived here, I still haven't found a place for everything, which is why it gets so overwhelming and why my apartment always looks like there was an explosion... I need to find a place for everything so that I know exactly where I can go to sit and write, or where I can grab my gym clothes and running shoes. Ugh. Probably I should get rid of some things, which might make the process of finding a place for everything a little bit easier-- but I'm horrible of getting rid of things. And when it comes to clothes I always end up regretting about half of what I get rid of. For example, two years ago, I got rid of my fat clothes-- but now I need my fat clothes again. Now I don't want to get rid of my non-fat clothes because I'm sure I'll need them again since I'm back on my pills and I really can't afford to buy new clothes again.
So things to do to get things in order:
1) Figure out what items I can get rid of.
2) Find a place for all remaining items.
3) Set up desk with all necessary writing supplies and utensils
4) Restock refrigerator with healthy food, eliminate all foods that contain the word "cream" because the result of eating said foods is quite unpleasant...
5) Find a suitable alternative to yogurt (which no longer agrees with me) for breakfast.
6) Establish if there are any other food items that no longer agree with me. Jerks.
7) Ease my way back into running and hope it works out better than the great walking fiasco this spring. All summer I have been sticking to the bike and the pool, so hopefully things are good to move back into running. We'll see...
8) STOP BEING SO DARN EMO!

That is all.

Strange.... And Yet I Cried...

2008-07-28T20:02:00.000-07:00

Yes, I know it will come as no surprise to most of you that I cried-- I always cry. No need to remind me of that. But this time, it was not about me being emo. It was actually me watching a movie. A very strange movie. If any of you have seen Lars and the Real Girl you will know exactly what I am talking about. Who would have thought that a movie about a man who falls in love with a life size doll could have such a good message.
I won't tell too much, just in case anyone intends to watch the movie, but basically, Lars takes the doll as his girlfriend, the brother takes him to a psychologist, the psychologist tells the family that they need to play along as long as Lars needs them to. The family gets the town to cooperate as well, and the town ends up loving the doll, too-- And at one point Lars gets in a fight with his sister-in-law because his doll has gone out to do things with some other people in town and she isn't home to play Scrabble with him. And the sister-in-law tells him that doing all of this for "Bianca" (the doll) is not easy, but the townspeople are doing it because they love him.
So the thinking part of that moment is this: What things do other people do for us out of love that we may not even recognize-- that we may even resent? And why do we have such a hard time accepting and recognizing love unless it's right underneath our noses-- and sometimes even when it is under our noses we don't recognize it.

Just a thought for today...

Smokey's Outdoor Adventure

2008-07-05T18:33:00.000-07:00

On the weekends when I go to my parents' house, it is always my mother's request that I bring Smokey along. She refers to him as her "grand-kitty"... And she always insists on taking him outside in the yard for at least an hour. We put on his harness and leash and let him roam around the yard. Here are some pictures of Smokey's adventure today:

Pictures in paint peeling... and Protestants

2008-06-25T20:42:00.000-07:00

About the pictures--
When I look at things like clouds and spackled walls and peeling paint I see pictures. Animals, faces of famous (and not so famous) people. It's usually when I'm feeling bored, or lonely, or when I can't sleep-- This week I discovered a new setting for seeing pictures in unexpected places-- when I'm uncomfortable. During a doctor's appointment this week I saw William Shakespeare's face in the air vent in the ceiling. Okay, I know it's weird, but I think my imagination takes over when my emotions can't handle the place that I'm in. Does this happen to anyone else, or is it just me?

And about the Protestants--
This weekend I have to miss church because of a family event. This isn't exactly true... I will not be missing church, I will be missing my church family. I will be attending church elsewhere with the rest of my family because the church that I attended as a child is honoring a friend of the family for her 95th birthday. It will be great to celebrate the occasion, as she's a really sweet lady.
This is taking place at the Lutheran church that I attended until I was 9 years old. I have only been back there twice and both experiences have left a bad taste in my mouth... I'm sure it works out well for some people, but for me I can't handle the exclusivity of it all. I don't really agree with the rules of the church that state that only someone who has gone through confirmation in that particular church can partake of communion-- among other things. I will be missing home this weekend. I will be missing the people who love me as I am, the people who actually know me-- who can look at me and know when something is not right. But at least I know I have someplace to call home. Someplace that I can go back to time and time again and be blessed by the company of true friends.

Today's post was brought to you by the letter: P

The best thing he ever did for me...

2008-06-15T23:35:00.000-07:00

Sorry all! This post is long!

Today was father's day. I have a great relationship with my father. I also have a great relationship with my mother (most of the time). I would call my relationship with my parents together somewhat mediocre. It's hard to be around them together because it upsets me that my mom doesn't appreciate the good things about my dad. She only sees his faults and holds them against him every chance she gets. She never mentions the things she likes about him. When I ask, she makes a joke, like "I married him because I thought he had money," but she never says anything positive about him. I've come to a point where when I spend time with just her, I have to tell her that I don't want to hear it when she starts complaining about my dad again. That's not to say that he never does anything wrong-- after all, he is human like the rest of us-- but most of us can look past those things to see the things we love about the person. I can't understand how my dad handles it, never hearing kind words about the valuable qualities that he has, about the great things that he does. He has always been my advocate and encourager.
For this reason, I want to share the best thing my dad ever did for me-- mostly because he reminded me of it today and I need to get it out, since there are parts of it that my family and even my closest friends don't know--parts that I had blocked out of my mind until recently. Parts that I have run away from. And my dad doesn't entirely know what he did for me. He could handle it, but my mother couldn't. And I can't tell one without telling the other.
Anyway, this afternoon, I went to have coffee with my parents at Starbucks. My dad and I were browsing through the "Homes" section of today's paper as I am always browsing at the cost of condos-- it's about that time for me to just live my life as it is now, rather than how it could/should be. Of course the only condos listed in the "Homes" section of the Sunday paper are the new condos, which are completely out of my price range. So while my mom went over to Linens-n-things to look at vacuums, my dad and I started talking about condos that ARE in my price range. There is one that I could even afford right now with no money saved. It has been fixed up beautifully-- I'm not crazy about the location of it, but with the right price and the right home, that would be fine. But despite the perfect price tag, I CANNOT and WILL NOT consider this condo. And when I told my dad where it was, he instantly knew why-- even though I thought he wouldn't remember, he did. I told him I knew someone who lived there and he said, "Yeah, that jerk who tried to....." Yes, he really did trail off at the end like that, which makes the perfect segue into the real story.

Many of you know I had my first real boyfriend when I was eighteen-- and that I didn't really like him, I just wanted to know what it would be like to have a boyfriend. I didn't really know him when we started dating and had no way of knowing what a lunatic he really was. He knew from the start my stance on sex-- he knew that I was waiting for marriage, and he told me that was okay--that he respected that. Twelve days after we started dating, he bought me two dozen roses and a necklace for Valentine's Day. I told him that it was too much and that I only had something small for him. This is when he started trying to get me to drop my principles. He told me that there were other ways I could make it up to him. I just laughed and ignored it.
A few days later he started telling me he loved me. I said nothing back. This upset him and he would grab me by the arms and pull me toward him and ask why I didn't say anything back. It made me nervous, but I told him that I didn't want to say it unless I truly meant it. I'm not the type to casually toss around words of affection. He told me that I could make it up to him by performing certain illicit deeds that I would prefer not to mention here. He said he was joking, but I always knew he wasn't.
After about a month, I knew I'd made a bad decision, but it took me another month to get the courage to actually tell him it was over. Another month of dodging advances and groping hands. Each time I told him I didn't want what he was offering, he got more emotional than I have ever been. He went into self deprecating mode saying that it was probably because he was too fat and that no girl would ever like somebody so fat. And each time I would have to explain again that I was saving myself for marriage and that I did not think he was ugly (even though I really did...) Finally, I decided to do it and he threatened to kill himself if I broke up with him. I was miserable. I had taken to punching walls and hitting myself with hard objects. But I was afraid he would really do it and I would have another thing to make me miserable--I would feel responsible even though I wasn't. I chickened out. I took it back, lied and told him I didn't mean it.
Two weeks later his dad and step-mom took us to dinner with them, after which they invited us out to their house. I didn't have my drivers' license at the time, and so I went where he went. At his dad's house, I had my first taste of alcohol aside from champagne and orange juice with my parents on New Years. His dad insisted that I HAD to try a shot of Aftershock. That it would be the best thing I ever tried. I am aware that it was a bad decision, but I was curious. I tried it, and it felt good. It made me feel a little bit numb and forget about all of the awful things this guy said and did. I followed up the Aftershock with two shots of peach schnapps and a mug of Goldschlager and hot chocolate. I felt good for the first time in two months.
After the hot chocolate, we left and went back to his condo-- the one in the complex where I can now never consider living. I was tired and tipsy and just wanted to go home-- bed sounded like a good place to be. But again, I didn't drive and therefore went wherever he went. So it was his condo. It was just as good of a place as any to sleep. But I didn't plan on what happened when we got there. I climbed into the bed and curled up to go to sleep-- his plans were different. He started removing my clothing one item at a time. I was kind of drowsy and out of it. I though if I just ignored him and did nothing that he would leave me alone, so I (stupidly) let him do what he was doing. I hated it. I felt disgusted, but I was drowsy and dizzy and didn't feel like fighting. But he kept going. He tried to do the one thing that I told him that I specifically told him I didn't want. I spoke up. I told him to stop. He told me that he knew that I would like it once he started. He kept trying, but I started squirming. I found within me a strength I didn't know I had. I know it sounds cliche, but it is the only way to explain what happened. How else could I have pushed aside a 24o lb male? I pushed him away and ran to the bathroom and cried. Once I came out, I discovered he'd fallen asleep. I considered calling my parents but I didn't want them to know about all of the stupid decisions I'd made that led to me being drunk and alone in a condo with someone that I knew had the will and the strength to force himself on me.
After that night, I stuck with him because I was afraid that what I had allowed him to do, though it was not everything, was still enough to ruin me for other guys. I was afraid that people would know. And I figured that since he'd already done a little sampling, he might as well continue. Yes, I know-- yet ANOTHER bad decision on my part. But mostly I tried to make sure that we were never alone at his condo again so he never had the opportunity to take it all from me. I only spent time there when I knew that his best friend or my best friend would be there. The rest of the time we hung out at my parents' house or in public places. I couldn't risk another experience like that. I never drank around him again, either. (Yeah, I know-- DUH!)
Finally around month four, I got up the nerve to call it off for good. I didn't care if he hurt himself, and I think part of me had figured out that he was just emotionally manipulating me. I did it over the phone so I wouldn't back down when he started crying.
Now I'm sure you know this isn't the end of the story, since I still haven't gotten to what my dad did for me.
About two weeks after I broke up with boyfriend number one, I started seeing boyfriend number two. He was a friend and he was there and it was convenient. Not a good reason to date someone, but at least I knew something about him. I'd known him for four years, so I felt safe with him. About a week after I started seeing him, I also started seeing boyfriend #1's car appearing in all of the places that I was. When I was at work, I would see his car go by four or five times a day. He tried calling but I wouldn't talk to him. He drove by my house each day, too. He even knocked on my window a couple of times and when I saw it was him, I went to another room. He asked my best friend why I wouldn't talk to him. She told him that I really didn't like him because he had tried to force me to sleep with him. And he told her, "If I want to sleep with her, there's nothing she can do to stop me." When my friend told me about this, I got a bit freaked out since he was basically following me everywhere.
At this time my parents didn't know the slightest about what had happened during my relationship with boyfriend #1, but I think my dad knew that something not so good had happened. He didn't say anything, but he is pretty insightful... He knew that boyfriend #1 kept calling, because it was their phone, and I was refusing the calls. He knew that boyfriend #1 kept trying to see me at work, because I told my parents that part. One night about two weeks after that creepy, threat-like statement, I was out with my friend and boyfriend #2 was out with his friends. And boyfriend #1 calls my friend's cell phone and demands that she put me on the phone. She lies and tells him that she just dropped me off at home. He tells her that he just talked to my dad and he said that I was out with her. My dad had mistaken him for boyfriend #2 (they actually could sound quite similar on the phone) and told him that I was out with said friend. My friend lied again and told him that he must have JUST missed me. He called my parents house again and this time my dad recognized his voice. My dad told him that if he didn't stop calling that he was going to hunt him down and remove certain body parts that I would prefer not to mention. Now I know that violence is not the answer, and my dad also knows that. He would never actually commit the acts that he speaks of-- but for him to be angry enough to say it was enough. I never heard from boyfriend #1 again. The truth is, my dad can be quite scary when he is angry. I have only seen him TRULY angry twice in my life, and both times were in my defense-- so I can imagine what he sounded like on this occasion. Whether or not it was the right thing to do, it made me feel a little bit safe again when I thought I might never feel safe again. He protected me the way only a father can. And that is the best thing he ever did for me.

A House is not a home...

2008-06-08T17:13:00.001-07:00

But it certainly is a FABULOUS refuge. When I am down and feeling funky, I find great comfort in certain things. One of those things is reading. I've progressed past the reading stage and I am currently watching season one of House on DVD. I am aware that running to old episodes of House can never make me feel at home, at rest, but my brain and my emotions have checked out for the day, so this is what I am doing.

So, anyone out there who is a House fan, what is your favorite episode?

Small Surprises

2008-06-03T23:36:00.000-07:00

Recently I have had a few small and happy surprises in my life. I have been having a difficult time, but despite that, there have been some good things that have cropped up during all of it. Due to the recent use of bullet points by others, I will use numbers instead, just to be different. :)
1) A few weeks ago, I received an e-mail at work letting me know that there was an open position in claims. My manager encouraged me to apply and I interviewed with the claims manager about two weeks ago. During the interview, the claims manager told me that there were over 100 applicants for the position-- this pretty much left me thinking I had no chance. I mean, it's not a promotion, just a lateral transfer, but still, I know I don't interview well and so I assumed I would not be chosen. But last Thursday I found out I was chosen. So beginning June 23rd, I will be working in claims. NO MORE PHONES! YAY!
2) I have been developing a more meaningful friendship with somebody who has been my friend for years. She came back into my life at just the right time-- we both have very similar lives/issues/ concerns-- and that has brought us closer.
3) Okay, so maybe it's a good thing I didn't use bullet points... I can't remember what else I was going to say! It was a good day, I've had a bit of wine and I came home and decided to put a movie on. But when I went to look through my movies, I really felt like watching First Wives' Club, which resulted in me having to break into my VHS tapes. Oh well. I guess I should go to bed...

Good night and good luck!

Just in Time

2008-06-01T20:22:00.000-07:00

Today started out rough. I don't know why, it just did. I've been in one of those places where I am in no way satisfied with my life. I knew I was in a funk the minute I woke up, but there was nothing to do to stop it-- not yet. I got to church early hoping to talk to some friends, and I did. I thought it was enough to lift the funk. When worship started and everyone started arriving, I discovered that it had not been enough. When I watch all of the happy married couples and their newborn children, or even their toddlers, the response for me is not just emotional. I literally find myself having a physical pain inside as I watch all of the couples, many younger than me, arriving with their children. This is not about being single. This is about the children. I watch people beside me and in front of me looking adoringly at their infants and it hurts. It never used to be like this. It used to be that being around other people's children was enough to fill that need inside of me, but it's really not anymore. I'm sure I sound completely mental to all of the people who actually have children, but each year this has become more and more of a struggle for me.

At any rate, about that time as all of the families are streaming in, the worship team was playing "Your Grace is Enough." And I'm standing there being completely emotional because I want more than anything to believe that. My head completely comprehends it. I know it to be true. But at the same time I don't FEEL it to be true. Even though I KNOW that I have everything I need, I still FEEL this physical pain inside when I watch all of the families gathered around me. And then, there I am, crying like an idiot again-- standing there wondering to myself why I even bother leaving the house, why I don't just stay at home reading or watching television-- it would probably hurt less. It would mean nobody would have to see me crying like an idiot and I wouldn't have to try to put words to what I feel inside when somebody looks at me and knows that something isn't right. And I wouldn't have to listen to another person tell me, "It's alright, it will happen in God's time" rather than just being there. I don't need somebody to tell me the things I already know-- I just need someone to be with me and to allow me to be with them. I also don't need somebody to act like my hurt is irrational or somehow wrong. That would be like if a married person talked to me about problems with his/her marriage or kids and instead of listening and being supportive if I said, "You should be grateful for the family God has blessed you with." I'm sorry, but if somebody is hurting, no matter the reason, their hurts should not be seen as irrational or insignificant because that just deepens the hurt.

So this morning when I was thinking that I want nothing more than to have my heart know that His grace is enough, and I was crying (at this point only a little) because I am upset that I don't feel this in my heart and in comes the ultimate example that His grace truly is enough. I don't know if any of ya'll have a song that is beyond worship for you but is somehow restoring and fulfilling but I do. The song is "Amazing Love." I blogged about this a while back and you can read it here. In fact just reading over this old post has refreshed some insights that I needed to have refreshed-- and all because of that song. And the beautiful thing is that it was the song during communion today. What better time to have God nudge me right when I'm wondering why I even bother coming to church anymore-- why I even bother leaving the house. And then this song comes and fills me up and I'm instantly reminded of what my life was before Jesus. Before Jesus, I was afraid to let people see me cry-- I took to cutting myself instead because I was ashamed of my hurts, afraid to reveal to much of myself because people might use them against me later. This song is a life raft that always comes along, right when I feel I'm drowning. When I need it most, God throws it out there to pull be back in again.

And now I see that it is time to start living in the present again, rather than wondering what the future might hold. Why must I keep forgetting this VERY basic principle? How much simpler would my life be if my heart could always remember this?

Houston, We Have Internet!

2008-05-31T01:31:00.000-07:00

I know it may seem that I dropped off of the blogging radar for a while, but it was only partially intentionally. The first two weeks of my blogging absence were because I didn't really have anything happy to write about, so I chose to write nothing at all. I spent those two weeks reading. I read 13 books in about 2 1/2 weeks. They're not long books, just a series that my mother and I both enjoy-- I read through again because the newest book in the series comes out on June 17. I did not intend to read them all that fast, but since it was a down period for me, I guess it worked out pretty well.
The third week of blogging absence was not intentional. My internet was not working for about a week. Stupid Charter. Why couldn't the cable go out? I don't use that NEARLY as much as the internet. Anyway, tonight when I came home and found it working again, it was the greatest reward. After spending 2 1/2 hours at the Fallon Fairgrounds for my nephew's graduation, I would have gone postal if I STILL did not have internet. After all, I have blog about the WORST graduation I've ever been to. I know this should be little surprise since the graduation was in Fallon. But I will save that story for later. For now it is time for bed.

Calling All Winewalkers.

2008-05-11T13:54:00.000-07:00

So, as Laura posted on her blog a few weeks ago, some of us are planning to get together for the winewalk downtown next Saturday. This post is just to serve as a reminder. So if you are interested.
Who: Anyone who would like to go.
What: The Winewalk downtown
When: Saturday, May 17 at 2pm
Where: Downtown Reno
Why: Because it's fun!

I am proposing that anyone who would like to go should meet up at Starbucks across from the movie theater at 1:45pm so that we will be ready to start promptly at 2pm. This is just a suggestion, and if anyone has any opposition to this plan, please let me know. I look forward to seeing ya'll there!

Straight off the rack

2008-05-01T20:53:00.000-07:00

So today I went shopping for a dress. I have an event this weekend that I will talk more about later-- but first, the dress. I bought a non-stretchy dress. With a zipper and everything. And it fit straight off of the rack. Now if you're a man, you probably don't really know, nor do you care what an amazing thing it is for me to find a dress that is not stretchy that fits me just the way it is. But for me, it is quite exciting as it is a new thing. In honor of the occasion, I may or may not have also purchased shoes that I don't need to go with the dress.
Now I'm sure you're still wondering, what IS the occasion. Okay, so you're probably not wondering, but I am going to tell you anyway.

As many of you know, when I was still a wee lad, and a student at UNR, I was a theatre minor. I performed in several plays at UNR and worked tech on a few more. This made me a member of "Nevada Repertory Company," which is celebrating their 35 year anniversary this year. All of the theatre department alumni were invited to attend a party in honor of the anniversary, and so I am going to the party with my uncle who was also involved with the UNR theatre department. I'm hoping to see some old friends, even though my life is now COMPLETELY different from what it was then.

I'm looking forward to introducing them to the more confident me, who doesn't find it necessary to drink herself into oblivion to feel comfortable around a group of friends. The me that I am now was just beginning to crack the shell back then. When my involvement with the department ended, I had been a Christian for about six months and was still figuring out what that meant in my life, and what that should look like. I was still going to all of the theatre parties and flirting unashamedly with the guys and drinking way more than a 5'2" girl should be able to consume. And then I was rolling out of bed after only a few hours of sleep, a little bit hung over, and made my way to church after brushing my teeth several times and popping a couple of pieces of gum in my mouth so that nobody would know that I'd been drinking all night.

As much as I miss theatre-- the performance, the light board, the people, I do not miss the person that I was back then.

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!

Just What I Need

2008-04-27T14:32:00.000-07:00

As many of you may have noticed, I slipped back into emo last weekend. I am glad to say that I have returned from the land of Emo where we all sit in the dark and cry, and I will no longer be sitting alone in the dark-- at least until my next weekend excursion to the land of Emo.
So last weekend, I was just brooding and moping and being such a jerk that I even skipped communion at church because I was just too tired of imposing and tired of working so hard to find someone who would take me as part of their group. I was so tired of butting in (though I know I'm always welcomed) where people were already settled in. It is awkward and uncomfortable to constantly be inviting yourself into a group, and while it gives the opportunity for getting to know a lot more people, it sometimes feels like to much like a chore. So since my heart was not right, I missed the opportunity to know a little bit more about someone else, and to celebrate our gift with someone new. Afterwards, I completely melted down. I know-- I really need to stop doing that. :)

Anyway, this weekend I was all set. I was prepared to go back out there and find somebody to share those few minutes with. And this week I had friends come and join me. I was blessed by the friends beside me. Right when I needed for things to feel a little more simple, my friends came in beside me and took away some of that burden. And during those few minute, I found out that one of my friends, whom I haven't spent time with for quite a while, is in a similar place of need to have someone come along side. We had lunch and talked about things that we've experienced spiritually since we last talked and decided that we are going to make a regular thing of this-- intentionally setting aside time to be involved in each other's lives, being available in the times of need when we're not quite sure who to call. This is going to be good. This is just what I need, right when I need it.

I feel that for the last couple of years, but particularly the last year, my faith has been lackluster. It is there, but I've let dust settle and I haven't really taken any time to polish it so that it shines, so that it reflect the true brilliance of Jesus. I've just let it sit getting dull, maybe acknowledging it once or twice a week, but never really taking care of it. I've let it sit on the shelf gathering dust, but it's really time for me to clean off the dust, bust out the polish, and move it back to the place of honor where it belongs. It is not something that I took in once, and now I can stash it away, just to glance at it every once in a while. It should be constantly polished and displayed for all to see.

I'm sorry if my metaphor is a bit wishy-washy, but it makes perfect sense in my head. I can see a very clear picture in my head of this-- it kind of looks like a Faberge egg. I just pray that I can get things back to the way that they should be.

Good night and good luck!

Like He Owns the Place

2008-04-20T21:35:00.000-07:00

So I was sitting on the couch, watching Desperate Housewives before bed (yes, go ahead and laugh if you must) and I went to the kitchen to get something. When I returned, my seat on the couch was no longer empty:

My Little Unimportant Rant

2008-04-19T12:16:00.000-07:00

If you are a male, you can check out now, because I am now going to be ranting about TV Guide channel's Top 25 sexiest television men of all time.
I am appalled. I was certain that they were going to say that George Clooney was number one. I was not particularly happy about it, but I expected it so it wasn't a big deal. But that was not how it played out at all! No, they gave George Clooney the number 2 spot. And number one? Can you guess? TOM SELLECK???? WHAT??? And Johnny Depp is number 5? And the rest of the stars I would consider hot are not even on the list? WHAT?
So here are some people who were excluded who would be on MY list of the top 25 sexiest tv men of all time. I know that some of these are by no means the norm, but some I really am shocked that they were excluded. Keep in mind that some of these people are being included based on how they looked quite a long time ago when they actually were on television:

* Hugh Laurie (yes, I'm sure this one makes me mental, but that's okay)
* Christopher Meloni
* Pierce Brosnan
* Naveen Andrews (Come on, people, he's sexier than Josh Holloway and Matthew Fox combined and they were both on the list!)

These are just a few, and if I had more time, I could probably create an entirely new list of my own, but I suppose I will spare you all..

The things I don't say.

2008-04-17T22:06:00.000-07:00

It's been quite a week. A lot of waiting for nothing. And a lot more social activity than I'm accustomed to, which has been FABULOUS. I have actually had to start using my planner. I used to be able to just remember everything I had to do, mostly because I either had nothing to do, or I only had things that happened at the same time every week... So this is what it's like to have a life.

Anyway, tonight I went to dinner with my friend Christina and we talked about a lot of nothing, and I actually shared with her some of the things I've had going on. Things I'm not ready to blog about, but things that I needed to talk to someone about. It was really good because I haven't talked to ANYONE about these things. So it was a good evening. Now I am watching Juno which is FABULOUS.

And tomorrow is going to be great. Bully's after work with some work friends. Then in the evening I am going to see Smart People with my friend Mary, which may lead to some more real conversations. I can hope.

Saturday will be a day of fun with another co-worker. We are going to the Wine Walk for her birthday, which should be a blast. Hopefully it's less crowded this time since it's not spring break.

The rest of the weekends activities are yet unplanned. I am hoping to make a trip to Windy Hill for some sunset photos with my new camera, but we shall see.

Anyway, Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

Ummmm... OOOPS!

2008-04-14T19:48:00.000-07:00

Check this out, it's pretty flippin' funny!

Redneck Candid Camera

2008-04-13T20:26:00.000-07:00

That's the show that I felt like I was on today when I went to dinner with my parents. So we are sitting at our table at a casino restaurant that shall remain nameless, and this man in an electric wheelchair comes in with two other men, both of whom were wearing beat up jeans and wife-beaters. The man was also accompanied by a dog. Now your first thought would be, "hmmm, guy in wheelchair, must be a service dog." But what you need to know about this dog is that it was a fat, black pug. Okay, so maybe the pug is his service dog... Whatever.

As the men proceed to settle in to their booth with the man in the wheelchair at the end of the table, the dog joins the other two men in the booth seat. WHAT? Service dogs don't sit on the booth seats at restaurants. All the while, people in the restaurant kept looking over at the dog, but nobody said anything. Their waitress acted like it was perfectly normal to have pudgy pug sitting at the table.

As the meal progressed, we watched all of the men playfully petting the pug, and the pug bouncing around on the booth seat. Exactly the type of behavior you would expect from someone's pet, and not from a service dog. Still everyone in the restaurant is looking over at this scene, and I can't look away because they are seated directly across from me.

Now you might think that this is the end, but unfortunately it is not. After the men were done eating they requested a takeout box, which they proceeded to put their leftovers in and place on the floor. Then they let the dog loose. They set him on the floor to eat the scraps from the takeout box, which the dog promptly devoured before wandering across the aisle in the restaurant, probably in search of more scraps. When the dog returned, the men dropped a few more French fries on the floor, which apparently appeased the dog because he/she did not wander off again.

It honestly would not have surprised me for some secret camera man to jump out from behind a tree, because the whole scene was just too hard to believe. I guess it really is true when people say that truth is stranger than fiction!

Jeni's First Digital Camera

2008-04-12T12:29:00.000-07:00

Yes, it is sad, I know. I have been putting off buying a digital camera until I could afford the best. I still can't afford the best, but I got a really good deal on a decent camera, so I sucked it up and made the purchase. I have moved out of the obsolete world of film and here is the best take of ten at my first picture to post:

Perhaps I should take up swimming...

2008-04-10T21:33:00.000-07:00

I'm here. I'm blogging about nothing because I really have nothing to say. I am feeling happier right now, I have switched from country music (which tends to be depression type music) to loud, obnoxious head-banging type music. This change is a seasonal thing, as well as a somewhat emotional thing. Every year in the spring, I wake up one morning and I feel like listening to something loud. That's usually the time I start to feel more confident, outgoing, and social. This is the time of year when maintaining relationships with other people stops feeling like such hard work. So I am looking forward to this season.
It's a good time for me to be more willing to reach out to others, because physically I am feeling quite discouraged right now. I feel better in general than I have in years now that much of that extra weight on top is out of the way. But after my surgery, during the period of inactivity associated with recovery, I gained more weight than I would have liked. And at the time it didn't bother me that much because I figured that as soon as I started to get active again, that would go away. But the time came to begin again, and that hasn't been working out so well. I'm kind of stuck right now. I'm doing what I can, trying to push through and I feel like I'm not getting anywhere. I am considering taking up swimming--and I'm really not a very good swimmer. Oh well. I suppose it is better to be living "fat and happy" than skinny and unhappy. He he he he he...

Well, that's the evening report. Thanks for joining us today for this mindless rambling that I call an update.

Response to a comment

2008-04-03T19:17:00.000-07:00

I will go ahead and say it, this post is kind of in response to a comment diga made on my post about feeling pretty. I'm not even sure that I should post this because I don't want it to be misinterpreted, but I'll go ahead and see what happens and if people take it the wrong way, I'll take it down.

For anyone who didn't catch it, my HEAD (the part of me that reads and interprets blog comments) is fully aware that spouse, kids etc will not make me a happier person. My HEAD having this knowledge, does not make my heart stop longing for those things. I do desire to find that person who loves me enough to commit to a relationship with me. I do desire to have children someday. And I am aware that I don't NEED those things to be happy, hence the reason for reading the book again. The problem is that I find myself longing for and lacking something that I DO need, that we all need, and somehow I figure that if I were married I would have that one thing.

We always put an emphasis on how important community and personal relationships are to our faith and our spiritual growth. The way I see it, while I am aware that marriage will not make me a happier person in general, it could give me the opportunity to grow and develop as a person rather than remaining stagnant as I have been. All of the married people out there say that it's not greener on the other side, but most of the married people I know at least have ONE person that they can sit with and pray with when they need it in their spouse. They have that one person they can depend on to listen to them when they have something on their minds. That's not to say that a single person CAN'T have that, but right now I don't. So perhaps all of the desire to meet someone isn't so much about getting married and have kids. Perhaps it's more about knowing that if and when something bad happens that I will have someone to call at two o'clock in the morning to talk and to pray with. My closest friend for the last five years and the first person I thought to call whenever I needed something is not here right now, she is across the world, and I have not been doing a very good job of keeping her up to date with my life, nor have I done a very good job of keeping up on hers. A 16 hour time difference makes a close involvement in one's life quite difficult. And so I have been treating my blog as my best friend. I know that a blog can never be a replacement for personal relationships, but it's what I have right now.
I have been trying to stretch myself out of my comfort zone by getting involved in other people's lives so that I can develop those sorts of relationships and friendships but I know it will take time. As of right now, I still feel like an outsider watching everybody else have the close personal relationships, and every once in a while I get a day pass and I'm invited in, but the rest of the time I'm left on the outside watching and waiting. It's not just so I have someone to talk to and pray with, either. I want people to feel like they can talk to me and ask me to pray with them, to call me at two o'clock in the morning. And I will be ready when that relationship comes-- not just a romantic relationship, but a meaningful friendship-- one that truly intersects my life as I intersect theirs. I will be right here, open to whatever God blesses me with.

Oh, Blast it all...

2008-04-01T22:17:00.000-07:00

What is the matter with me?

I love you. I hate you. I miss you. I wish I could forget you.

That is all.

And today I felt pretty...

2008-03-29T23:17:00.000-07:00

So today I went shopping. I needed some specific items, and I didn't really get much more than I needed, but it was still quite an enjoyable day. I discovered that I now have so many choices-- I didn't have all of these choices before, and now suddenly I do. After purchasing the much needed items along with a couple of others, I found myself feeling pretty. This doesn't happen often. Most of the time I either hate the way I look or I am indifferent because it doesn't really matter in the grand scheme of things. But today I felt pretty. I put on some make-up and a new shirt and met up with some of the other ladies in the church for pizza. But I really wanted to go out. I never want to go out, but today, I did. Unfortunately, the friend I was supposed to go out with tonight bailed on me. Oh well.
So now is the part where you all get to laugh at me and how completely ridiculous I am. You get to laugh at what I am about to confess because it is so wrong. Here goes: So when my friend called me and bailed, I decided to go to Barnes and Noble. I love books, and I like coffee beverages that don't taste like coffee, and since I felt pretty I hoped I might see some gentlemen who love books and like coffee beverages that don't taste like coffee. But wait-- It gets better. So I order my coffee and head out into the book store to browse. On the way out I pass a table with two guys sitting at a table doing their homework. I smile at them (this is not uncommon, I always smile at strangers) and find myself thinking in my head "look at me... look at me... come talk to me..." (this IS uncommon since I usually don't want people to look at me). If your still not laughing, it gets even better than this. After I go upstairs to look around, I look in the poetry section, then the Christian fiction section (I always get a good laugh out of some of the plots they come up with and the corny jacket passages) and when I got done there, I started to head over to the social sciences/current affairs sections when I notice that there is a guy about my age looking at poetry. So I go BACK to the poetry section even though I've already looked there. And in my head I'm thinking "Ask me what I like-- I'll tell you about my autographed Billy Collins books..." And then I realize that I've gone COMPLETELY mental and that it is time for me to go home. I go to the front to purchase my new journal for church notes and the guy cashing me out asks for my phone number to look up my rewards card. The psycho voice inside of me says "That's not all my phone number is good for--wink wink." And then I go home, thinking that I must be hormonal or something because as much as I hate being single sometimes, that psychotic inner dialogue is really not like me.
So now I am home, and I have decided that it is time for me to read a particular book again. It is called Living Whole Without a Better Half. I think I've blogged about it before, but I haven't actually read it for about 5 years. I bought it in 2003 when I was in the midst of the whole "met the guy I want to marry, too bad he doesn't feel the same way" drama and I went on a Christian singles book binge. I bought a ton of them and most of them were crap. They all talked about singles as though we are all raging with hormones and can't wait to hop in the sack and how important it is to not give in to those feelings. Um, DUH! Most of them addressed singles who are always dating and trying to figure out whether it's right or not. This was the only one I read that addressed the spiritual needs of a single person as they are in this moment. When I read it the first time, I made quite a few notes, and probably half of the pages in the book are folded over because of something noteworthy I found on the page. The book was so good that it provided the material for my one and only experience teaching a group.
The summer I graduated from UNR, some of the other college students I knew from Intervarsity Christian Fellowship decided that they didn't want Intervarsity to end for the summer. Yes, technically it did, but about 30 or so of us decided to get together and create our own similar meetings for the summer. There was worship and a teaching and then general hanging out. Somehow, I got roped into teaching about escaping emotional dependence. I'm not sure WHY anyone thought this was a good idea, but someone did, and I, being the people pleaser I was at the time, agreed to it. I suppose that in teaching about a subject, we always learn something ourselves, and that summer I learned quite a bit and managed to not hate being single, even if just for a few months.
My battle with this has always been two steps forward and one step back, but I know I depend a lot less on people to provide me with meaning in my life than I used to. I know that I have grown a lot, and that I still have a lot of growing to do. And I feel like right now I might be in the middle of that one step back because I have been so lonely lately. I want to stop that, before it turns into two steps back. So I'm going over all the things I learned last time, and I will also hopefully learn some new things.

Next Time: Lies about the single life.

A Painful Lesson

2008-03-20T20:29:00.000-07:00

Here I am blogging again--Which should make it painfully clear to all that I am processing a lot right now. This is good. Because I have been ignoring a lot of things for a long time just hoping that they'll go away on their own. My recent physical struggles have caused me to come a realization about other parts of my life. And I'm only coming to terms with this as I've been shut down from being the physical superhuman I always acted like. My whole life, I've been an extremely emotional person, as all of you know ALL TOO WELL. And on the opposite side of my sub-human level of emotional control, I have always had great levels of physical control... I can't really ever recall shedding tears over physical pain. Between my family who always said that doctors were a waste, and my super-athlete teen years during which time I played soccer year round in addition to running track, I was kind of brought up with a "walk it off" mentality. And so every little ache and pain that I felt, I always ignored it. I had been raised to believe that it would pass. That it would go away on its own. Here's some news: It won't.
In the process of trying to get things taken care of I am coming to a realization about myself. In the office of our very own Aric G, he pointed out that I was laughing and thought it was strange. I dismissed it at first, thinking it was just because I'm not usually comfortable around people I don't know very well. But after a few visits, I've come to realize that it's usually when I'm describing where it hurts and how that I find myself giggling--and I realized something awful about myself. I'm ashamed of feeling physical pain. That probably sounds insane, but it is true. Every once in a while, I will casually mention having a headache or something of that nature, but I will also make it clear that I fully intend to keep doing whatever I'm doing regardless. I have always been the type where if I want to do something, I will push through and force myself to do it. I have to prove that I can--maybe it's so I don't look as physically weak as I am emotionally weak. But I have never decided that I wanted to do something then have my body absolutely refuse to do it. After my surgery, I wasn't ready to start running again yet, so I decided I would join the group to walk the half-marathon. I thought it would be a good way to ease myself into running after being inactive while recovering for a couple of months. But it didn't happen that way.
So here I am, after ignoring the same problem for ten years as it grew gradually worse, and I am at a point where I can't ignore it anymore. So now a simple problem like shin splints has grown into a massive problem. I know, I'm an idiot. It's stupid to ignore a problem for ten years as it gets worse and worse and worse, especially if you don't know what the problem is or what to do about it. I am now fully aware of the idiocy of the "walk it off" approach. Yes, it is such a small thing like shin splints that is causing all of this drama, only they have apparently turned monster because when I hit about the quarter mile mark, even walking about 3 miles per hour, my body refuses to go anymore. Let me correct that, it will go, but not more than like maybe ONE mile per hour. This is completely mental and I feel embarrassed and like somewhat of a sissy, but I have to say that when it gets to that quarter mile mark, it hurts more than anything I've ever felt before. More than getting hit in the nose with a soccer ball from ten feet away, a hundred times more than getting the tattoo on my shoulder, and even more than waking up from my surgery tightly bound and with stitches from armpit to armpit.
But the point of this post (which I have taken forever to get to) is that it has taken this painful physical lesson to make me realize that I have been doing the same thing emotionally and spiritually. I have been ignoring these small issues that pop up, or maybe not ignoring them but just bringing them up in conversation (or on my blog) and then pushing them aside again rather than taking them to the Healer. When my emotional issues come up in conversation with my mom, she chides me because "there are people who have it much worse". And sometimes I let that mentality take over me. I shove the problems aside and don't take them to God, I don't ask for prayer, because it's just too small to matter. But just like shin splints, if you take this thing that is too small to matter and you ignore it and ignore it and ignore it, rather than going away, it will become a big problem. It will grow and grow and grow until it slams down on top of you, stopping you in your tracks. So the moral of the story? There is no problem too small for God. There is no problem too small for prayer. I know it's obvious. I know it's not the first time I've had this realization, but maybe this time, because of the physical aspect of the lesson, maybe maybe maybe it will finally stick.

The Endless Circle

2008-03-18T19:12:00.000-07:00

So this is kind of a continuation of my previous post about my personal struggles with hopelessness. I think that when I fall into the trap is when it feels like a vicious circle that I can't break free from. I will give you and example and please don't jump to discredit my example because I am aware that there are falsehoods there, but it's just how it feels in those moments of hopelessness. Here it is:

And so, I am single ------>
So I gain more weight, become less attractive .......If I were more attractive, I would not be single

|................................................................................................|
...............So I eat more.........................................If I lost weight I would be more attractive
|................................................................................................|
...................So I get depressed..............................................If I exercised more I would lose weight
|................................................................................................|
................But it does, so I don't <---------------If it didn't hurt so much, I would exercise more

Then a new circle begins... If I wasn't single and had fulfillment in other parts of my life, such as relationships, children, etc, I would not be so dependent on my job to fulfill me, and vice versa. Yes, I know it should be God that fulfills me. It's different to know this and to put this into practice when you feel like God's blessing is going to everyone but you. If you feel like I am being a whiny little ***** then you can kick me in the head next time you see me. I am just putting this out there to remind myself not to let myself get trapped in this vicious circle. And maybe someone else is trapped in a similar circle and needs to know that they're not alone. So in some ways it would be more selfish for me NOT to post this! Just keep that in mind before you go and kick me in the head... Thanks for stopping by!

Right Place, Right Time

2008-03-16T21:42:00.000-07:00

I have to say that today's message at church hit quite close to home. In fact it was bordering on too close for comfort. I have been battling hopelessness for the last month and as I wrote earlier this week, things are starting to pick up a bit, but it was still lingering right there in the corner waiting for me to let it back in. But something struck me today when Noel was speaking and said that God never gives up hope on us. And immediately I thought, if God never gives up hope on us, who are we to give up on ourselves. And now that I am aware of this, I'm hoping I can keep guard over all of the weak spots where hopelessness can sneak in. So as part of that, I will list my current weaknesses so that I can be reminded to keep closer watch so as not to let hopelessness overtake me in these areas.
1. Loneliness: I am always afraid that it's never going to end. I do most things alone and this doesn't leave me thinking that I have no hope of ever escaping this situation except when my friends flake on me or leave me out. This is when I am most vulnerable to hopelessness in this area.
2. My Physical Being: I am feeling particularly frustrated with this right now. I had been doing pretty well with working out a few times a week before my surgery. I was struggling, but I could still do it. After the surgery, I feel much better in my neck, shoulders and back, but I was kind of out of commission as far as working out goes for a couple of months. Now as I've been trying to get back in the swing of things physically, I'm coming up against massive barriers. In general on the day to day, I feel good, but when it's time to go walking, I have a whole new crop of problems popping up (actually it's old problems getting worse). This is frustrating for me, because I have a pretty high tolerance for pain. I usually can just push through it and I'm fine. But what I'm dealing with right now has progressed to the point that I can't just push through it. It doesn't really affect my every day life, but it's affecting my ability to complete a workout. I feel like I should be able to suck it up and the fact that I can't is making me feel hopeless. I'm trying to get it taken care of but I wish it would come faster. I will be on the lookout for any leaks of hopelessness here.
3. My Job- I don't hate my job and I appreciate the schedule. I wouldn't go so far as to say that I actually like my job, but I'm indifferent to it. It doesn't really keep me from connecting with other human beings, so that's a plus. At the same time, my days don't go by nearly as quickly as I would like them to. My job is not all that challenging and can be quite repetitive. It is tolerable and consistent which is a vast improvement over the Evil K. I still find the situation a bit hopeless. I don't see myself moving up because I do not have an outwardly confident nature. I don't interview well, and I don't generally know how to go about moving myself upward. I'm not good at finding opportunities for myself, particularly in such a large company. I had been looking forward to starting taking classes again, but I have discovered that right now I don't have the money for the class I wanted to take, which contributes to the hopelessness. I will have to keep my eyes on the sky for direction in what I should be doing in terms of finding my real career.

That it all for now... This may be continued later, depending how I feel the next time I blog...

Thanks a Latte!

2008-03-11T19:12:00.001-07:00

Thanks to all you guys for not throwing tomatoes at me when I go all emo. I particularly enjoyed the suggestion to get a latte, mostly because the timing of it was impeccable. I had already been planning on talking about lattes in my blog post tonight. So-- onward and upward:

I think that my non-prayers are working probably because one of my fabulous friends who are not quite so incoherent right now put them into words. I have been having a much better week this week. Better at work and better at home. I know that tonight was the big dinner and I really was considering dragging myself there, but I had the opportunity to enjoy a small dinner with a friend that I only get to spend time with a few times a year. I enjoyed an Ultimate Mudslide at happy hour price and some good conversation. I am feeling more optimistic, though nothing has changed. I am looking forward to enjoying a marshmallow mocha cappuccino with the new coffee creamer I purchased today at Target (and in case you didn't know, Target is my second favorite store. If you have to ask what my first favorite store is, you're fired!)
I am currently reading a book about brain surgery. It is a memoir by a neurosurgeon and it is quite interesting. I am working toward my goal of reading a hundred books this year that I've never read before. I am currently working on numbers 9 and 10 fo the year. The other one is The Little Book of Pandemics.
Dancing with the Stars starts again next week, so I'll be going to my mom's on Monday nights for dinner and dancing. And yes, we will also be dancing. Mock us not. It is quite fun.

So, now that I've provided you with my non-emo update, I am going to go enjoy a marshmallow mocha cappuccino. Let me know if you want one and I'll fix one up for you. :)

Desolate

2008-03-09T21:52:00.000-07:00

This is the most appropriate word to describe how I feel lately. Everything I do feels empty and unfulfilling. When people ask me what's happening in my life, I always have the same answer--nothing new, nothing exciting. I am functioning on autopilot and I don't know how to stop. And I can't be sure that there's really a good reason to stop. Because I'm afraid stopping would break me. It would leave in such a state that even the commitments I have would no longer be worth leaving the house for. At least on auto-pilot I can get through this, even if I feel numb in the process. I wish there was some sort of anesthesia for this part of my life-- the part where I feel like I'd rather have terrible things happening in my life as long as I had someone to share them with than what I have right now; the part where I feel like there is no use in having good health if you have nobody to share its benefits with; the part where I feel like the only joy and the only heartache I get to experience is somebody else's. If only someone could tell me to count backwards from ten--but I'd only make it to eight--and then I would wake up, as though only a second had passed and I would find all of the deadness inside of me removed, the emptiness filled and I would be in the part where I have a new challenge: learning to live with and communicate with and love another person who was sharing the experience of life with me.

I am sorry that I have been so emo lately, and that I don't know when this emo stage will end. Some of you have told me that I should blog it out anyway, even though I have nothing happy to say. So I am, because I don't have a better solution. The obvious answer would be to pray, but lately I haven't been able to think what to pray for. My prayers have been paltry, mostly just cries to God to read what's on my heart and take it from there. I cannot find the words to explain it, just as I am sure I didn't really accurately explain it in my paragraph above. It all comes out sounding like jibberish, or pointless rambling. I have never had a time in my life when my words have failed me as much as they are failing me now.

And with that I bid you adieu, for the night or for the week--until I blog again.

Small Changes

2008-02-26T20:12:00.000-08:00

It's no secret that I am not happy with my life. I am happy to be a child of God, but I am not happy with my life. I know I should be content with what I have. I know that I should count my blessings and be thankful that there is no bad excitement. But year after year of no excitement bad or good is beginning to wear on me. I generally deal with this by adding a bit of excitement myself by making small changes. On the outside they appear drastic and sudden (coloring my hair, cutting off 8 inches in one sitting, etc) but even these small changes are contemplated for weeks, maybe even months. These small changes have kept me sane over the last few years
But it's not enough anymore. I have been depressed beyond words for the last few weeks, though I have not kept myself isolated, which used to be my way. I've forced myself out of the house at every opportunity. I wonder if these small changes are necessary because there is actually a big change that I need to make but I'm too afraid to. I didn't know what the big change could be, and it's still not entirely clear, but I think it has something to do with finding a real career. This means I need to decide what I really want to spend my life doing (aside from writing) and start to make a way to do it. Yes, writing is my dream, but I need to take action for it to ever become a possibility-- and I should take advantage of my natural talents in other areas to try to pave the way. I know I've said it before, and I never did anything about it, but now I have another person in my life prompting me.
Last week at work, I got my review. It was good. In fact I was told that my performance is remarkable for a person who's been there for such a short time. And then I was told that I am too smart to be a customer service representative. My manager told me that she expects me to start taking classes again toward a career. She doesn't want me to leave, but she does want what is best for all of her employees. She pressed that there is really no excuse since we do have 5000.00 a year of tuition reimbursement available. And today again, my supervisor asked me why I work in a customer service job, when I'm clearly intelligent Ienough to do so much more. This is a constant internal struggle for me. People tell me that I can do more, but I find myself lacking the confidence to do more. That is why I did not pursue a degree that would lead to a medical career when I started college. It was the only thing that interested me besides writing when I started college, but I was intimidated by the amount of biology required and I told myself I wasn't smart enough--so I decided to pursue my passion thinking that would be enough to get me through my life.

Now hear I am, 4 and a half years after I graduated college and no better off than I was when I started, all because I thought I wasn't smart enough to do anything but pursue my passion. And I've found out that in the real world passion doesn't equate to anything if you don't have the skill. But now it's time to try to prove to the world, and myself that I am smart enough to have a real career. I have no choice-- my boss says so! :) So as soon as I get my bonus from work, it is time to enroll in Math 128 to brush up.

And I dyed my hair again-- I can't cut out the small changes all together!

Good night and good luck.

Too Much Work

2008-02-12T20:17:00.000-08:00

Warning: mopey post ahead.

Right now I'm in a period where doing anything but hanging out at home and either sleeping or watching TV is too much work. That doesn't mean I'm not going to do other things. Obviously I HAVE to go to work even though the last time I want to do is talk on the phone all day. I have been praying that this is not obvious to the people I am helping, and I think it's working because more people than usual have actually told me how helpful I am. I don't feel helpful, but perception is everything...
Today I wanted to stay home rather than going to the gigantic humongous dinner or whatever you want to call it. I wanted to stay home despite the fact that I thought we would be sitting at small tables having personal conversations with the people sharing a meal with us. I was disappointed when I arrived and found three MASSIVE tables with people stretched end to end. After all, a crowd is the last thing I feel like dealing with when I'm in this mood. I tried (unsuccessfully) to find the meaningful conversations I had been looking for. While I racked up quite a few hugs, which is common with this crowd, and always helps a little, the whole thing felt a bit impersonal to me. I know that it's just me, that most people enjoy getting together with lots of people all at once. I know it's probably for the best that I made myself get out rather than staying at home moping.
Tomorrow, I will force myself to get out again and my time with the kiddos will be better than staring at the glowing tube of doom with that glazed over look that I get when I don't even care enough to actually follow what I'm watching.
And Thursday I will be going goth. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I'm hoping that making a joke out of the day will make me feel a little bit better. I don't actually care about Valentine's Day and wouldn't want to celebrate it even if I had someone to celebrate it with, but the fact that it's nearly here is causing people to talk even more about their relationships, both positive and negative. I'm finding myself being a jerk and resenting the people who are talking about how great their relationships are, and being disgusted with the people who are talking about how bad their relationships are because they come across as ungrateful. Once again, I am aware that it is me being a jerk and if I wasn't in this mopey depressed mode I probably wouldn't be feeling like that toward people.
And Friday I decided to take the day off from work. Just because. So I'm going to spend the day doing things I enjoy, which will hopefully help get past this crappy phase. I really hate feeling this way and spontaneously crying over stupid crap and not caring about anything and being even more impatient than usual.

And if you actually read this post, I promise that I will not post again until I have something more positive to say. Today I am indulging and posting my depressive rant, and tomorrow perhaps I will delete it, we'll see....

Poison

2008-02-10T20:06:00.000-08:00

There are quite a few people in my life who are important to me. Many of them read this blog, but the ones who are related to me do not. There are two of these people whom I love dearly and enjoy the time I spend with each of them. But spending time with them together is poison to me. They are constantly bickering and fighting, even when I am with them. Each of them complains to me about the things that the other does to annoy them. It is unkind and unfair and I hate constantly being in the middle with them. The obvious solution to this would be to not spend time with them together-- unfortunately this is not an option. The constant exposure to this poisonous relationship is bringing me to lows I haven't known for quite some time. I want to run away, but I don't have anywhere to go, let alone the strength to do it. I am also fully aware that running away is not the answer to anything. I think it's time for bed. When I wake up tomorrow it will be a new day with new challenges and hopefully that will bring new hope.

Hooray for Movies!

2008-02-07T19:42:00.000-08:00

I have seen six new movies since right before Christmas and it has been quite an odd selection:
1) I Am Legend - Post apocalyptic zombie flick. I was interested to find out if Will Smith could pull off the "I am alone and have nobody to talk to except for my dog" better than Tom Hanks pulled off the "I am alone and have nobody to talk to except for my volleyball". This is not in anyway insulting Tom Hanks, but the movie Castaway could have been 30-45 minutes shorter and it would have been a lot better. I rather enjoyed I Am Legend, but I would have to say that the ending was a bit predictable. I will not go into detail because I don't want to spoil it for anyone who may still want to see it, so if you'd like to discuss it, ask me next time you see me.

2) Sweeney Todd - This may sound a bit morbid, but I watched this movie on Christmas day, and it is one of the best Christmas presents I got this year. Part of my enjoyment with this movie was that we watched a video of the Broadway version EVERY year in theatre class when I was in high school. Another part of my enjoyment was WHO KNEW that Johnny Depp could sing? And of course there's Alan Rickman, of whom I am also a big fan. Another enjoyable aspect is that it's not a traditional musical. Most people think musical and they think fluffy romance and/or fluffy happy ending. This is NOT one of those musicals. The story is completely sick and twisted-- a barber killing people and sending them down a chute to be turned into meat pies... You would never imagine such a story being set to music, but it is.

3) Charlie Wilson's War - This movie was actually a bit depressing. It was a good movie, an okay film (ask me about the distinction) and explained a lot. The trouble is, the further you get into the movie, the more you realize that there is no possible way for it to end well, since it is based on real events. It is more of a thought provoking ending, which for me is a good thing, but for most people does not satisfy. People like to know all the answers, even if they have to be made up.

4) 27 Dresses - This is the type of movie that I would normally see on video, but I went with a friend who is very hard to please when it comes to movies but she does like romantic comedies, so this is what we chose. It was your standard run of the mill happily ever after romantic comedy. I know, big surprise. It was entertaining, I would probably buy it for $5.00 at Blockbuster, but I would not call it a quality film. It's the kind of movie I would watch when I don't feel like thinking. Cute, entertaining, definitely NOT thought provoking.

5) Atonement - This would fall into the quality film category, in my opinion. I don't quite know how to explain my thoughts on this without giving anything away, so I'll just leave it at that. I definitely recommend watching this one.

6) Juno - I went to this movie today because I got my tax return and I've been wanting to see it since BEFORE I saw 27 Dresses. This was my movie choice that night, but my friend didn't really want to see it. So today I went alone so I wouldn't entirely miss my chance. The way that most of the movie was filmed reminded me a bit of Napoleon Dynamite, however the movie was NOTHING like Napoleon Dynamite. It was the type of movie that was laugh out loud funny without being sappy and predictable. I would have to say the best part was the dialogue. Oh yeah, and the hamburger phone. If you want to know more about that you'll have to see the movie.

If anybody else has any movie recommendations for movies that are out right about now, please tell me. I'm in a movie mood recently.

Soup'r Salad Monday

2008-02-04T20:37:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was SuperBowl Sunday. Tomorrow is Super Tuesday. So what does that make today?
Soup'r Salad Monday. Personally, I went for soup, though I'm not particularly partial to either--just like yesterday. I cannot say the same is true for tomorrow. Tomorrow, I can guarantee that I will be obsessively checking cnn.com every chance I get while I am at work. And then when I get home, I will immediately turn the television to CNN.

I KNOW that this is completely insane. I don't know what has happened to me. I have become a total political junkie. Ay caramba! I have to admit that in 2000, which was my first presidential election, I was literally yelling at the television as I watched the results came in. It was quite a discouraging year to experience your first presidential election. After that I knew what would happen in 2004 and had absolutely no hope that my vote would matter. I think I am so into it this year, because I actually have hope again that the process will elect the right person this year. That being said, if Hillary Clinton wins the democratic nomination, my hope will be lost again. I know it's probably a terrible thing to say, but I am literally having nightmares about what kind of pattern this would create. There are still Bushes out there who could potentially run, which could lead to a Bush Clinton Bush Clinton Bush cycle... and by the time that's over, Chelsea Clinton will be old enough to run, and who needs that sort of pattern. It's time to break free. No more Bushes or Clintons. Please!

But anyway, tomorrow-- 24 states will decide, and I am terrified about what the results will be. If you hear random screaming from my area of town, don't be alarmed-- just remember that I will be watching the results come in from the 24 states who are voting/caucusing tomorrow.

Good night, and good luck!

Die die die Evil Cold of Doom

2008-01-22T20:39:00.000-08:00

Alas, the cold that I have been trying to avoid for weeks has finally descended upon me in full force. I woke up this morning with my eyes crusted shut. Yummy.

And now that all of the negative is out of the way, now on to the positive. At the prompting of someone who gives great advice and who is like family to me, I have found out that all students admitted into the MFA program at Vanderbilt University in Nashville automatically receive a $34000 benefit package which includes tuition, a living stipend as well as a salary for teaching a beginning creative writing course and health insurance. This continues into the second year as long as good progress is made toward the degree.
The real challenge is going to be producing something good enough to be admitted. This is the challenge. Can I do it? Is this what God has in store for me? I guess I will have to start working on the best writing of my life... The difficult part-- what should I use? Is it finally time for my memoir project? I feel like I can write it more objectively now. I have moved past the emotional attachments that were holding me back before. But is it the right choice for my admission package, or is there something else, something better, something less personal that I should be writing about. These are difficult choices to be made, but the knowledge that if this is what God has for me, it will happen is encouraging. I will just have to pray and pray and pray and pray that it will happen and that my best story is yet to come.

And this is for Plucky: Good Night and Good Luck (and this time it's actually night! Can you handle it?)

Caucus Cookies

2008-01-19T15:08:00.000-08:00

For anybody who didn't know, today was the day of Nevada's caucus. Now that you are all fully informed, I will now be sharing my caucus experience.

I arrived at Pine Middle school at about 10:45 am (we were supposed to be there by 11 am) and I entered the building. Just inside the door, there was a woman directing people to the appropriate area for their precincts and I was directed to go into the gym. Once I reached the gym, I had to stand in line to check in, which was quite unorganized. The volunteers signing people in (most of whom were wearing Hillary Clinton T-shirts, even though the volunteers were supposed to remain neutral) were QUITE rude. They had tiny signs, not more than 1 1/2 inches tall directing people which line they should be in based on last name, and then they snapped at people when it turned out they were in the wrong line.

Finally, I was signed in and I had my card on which I would be selecting my candidate. I was directed to sit in the section over which my chosen candidate's name appeared. I went to find a seat and the fun began. I found great enjoyment in talking to the other people in my section as well as the lone Kucinich supporter in the section next to ours. As people continued to flow into the gym, it became apparent that in Nevada, there was only hope for two democratic candidates:
Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama. People tried to find seats, but as more people arrived, they were forced to cannibalize the other sections for seats. By the time everyone had arrived, the Barack Obama section had consumed the entire Kucinich section, as well as half of the Edwards section.

At this point the count began. It was very disorganized. A woman walked around carrying a microphone and directing each person to say a number out loud. This would have been a lot easier if they had just directed people to line up and count rather than trying to keep everyone in a huddled mass. Then we selected a leader for each candidate, and the group leader counted the people in their group. At that point, calculations were made and the candidates were determined to be viable or not viable. While we waited for the calculations to be made, a couple of volunteers with the Barack Obama campaign passed around cookies and juice. I rather enjoyed my caucus cookies. Any candidates with less than 15% of the vote were considered not viable. In my precinct Edwards and Kucinich were determined to be not viable and the people in their groups were directed to either choose another candidate, or to stick to their guns and basically have no impact. Of the nine people who had selected non-viable candidates, three selected Obama, one selected Clinton, and five opted to choose nobody and to just go home.

In the end, Barack Obama won my precinct by 1 delegate. It should have been more-- percentage wise, Barack beat Hillary in my precinct by 8%. Then again, I guess there was never much chance of Washoe County's choice actually being Nevada's choice as well. Clark County pretty much overpowers the rest of the state, and I have to say that in this case, that sucks. If I've never said it before (which I'm sure I have) I'm definitely going to say it now: I REALLY DO NOT LIKE LAS VEGAS!!!

And that, my friends, is my tale of caucusing. Good night and good luck.

A little less contemplation...

2008-01-10T22:53:00.000-08:00

A little more poetry!

It's been a while since I've posted a poem here, and for good reason-- I've been in quite the dry spell. I decided that if I'm ever going to get out of it, I'll have to force my way out, and so here is the first blow of the pick-ax that will break me out of my writing depression:

Countdown

Tick Tock

Time wasted on a mindless task.

Sucked in by a glowing screen

while I watch somebody else’s life

too scared to live my own

Tick Tock

My dreams so far in the past

I’ve forgotten what they mean

to me. Forgotten what it feels like

to live for dreams alone

Tick Tock

My doubts have recently amassed

in dark corners still unseen

leaving me with barely any light

to carve my name in stone

Tick Tock

Time is running out at last

for what I could have been.

The time has come to cross that line

to who I will become.

The wife I could never be...

2008-01-08T21:46:00.000-08:00

I have a fear that has only just been revealed to me. I am afraid to get married. Those of you who know me probably find this quite difficult to believe because you know how much I want a family of my own, but just continue reading and all will become clear. I am 28 years old and most days I feel like an old maid because I'm not married yet. This is because in Christian culture in general girls get married young. Yes, I did intend to use the word girls because at 20 and 21 I really don't think we are truly women yet. This is not intended to be judgmental in any way, it's just the way I see things. I also am not putting myself down. In fact most times, I feel a great amount of relief to be single, though this is intermingled with a desire to hurry up and meet somebody to create a family with. My heart feels a great amount of relief to be single. My brain thinks it would be much nicer to be married. My brain thinks about the advantages of a dual income household (would I finally have a home that's not rented) and how much easier it is to cook for two than it is for one (the actual act is not any easier, but the knowledge that there's someone else to enjoy it makes it more fulfilling) and how it is a necessity before I can have children (watching other peoples' children is both my greatest source of joy and my greatest source of sorrow) and how there would always be someone to talk to about all things, good or bad.

My heart, on the other hand, still cannot ponder the thought of marriage because of my life's experiences. I once thought I knew who I was going to marry. I loved him despite the fact that he had never shown that sort of interest in me. I convinced myself for 5 years that he would eventually come around and I finally had to let that go. If by some miracle he did at any time in the future decide that he wanted me back in his life, sincerely and completely, then I would be willing to consider that and I still would not be afraid, but in general with the rest of the population, I am still afraid. I know that if I met the right person, I would no longer be afraid, but I wonder if the fear is evident. If it's somehow holding me back.

One might wonder why I am so afraid. I am afraid that the odds are against me because of my family's history. Both of my parents were married and divorced once before they met each other. While they have been married for nearly 30 years, it seems that they remain together out of complacency rather than love. They don't communicate when something is wrong. My mother yells while my father just goes along with it to keep her from getting even more angry. My father is capable of communication--I do it with him all the time. But most of the time I don't share anything deep with my mother because I am afraid that she won't take me seriously.
That alone probably makes me damaged good for anyone who tries to take me in. But it is not the only thing that comprises my fear of marriage. There is also the fact that of my five siblings (four are half siblings), four of them have been married and divorced at least once. One of them has lived with AT LEAST twenty men in my remembrances and has four children, each with a different father. These are the role models for relationships I have had. While I have found new, more reliable role models within the church family, I cannot deny that my blood family has had some effect on me. The final reason for my fear of marriage comes from my one full brother. As many of the bloggers know, I was part of his wedding last year. He was married to his high school sweetheart after they'd been together for six years. After they were married his wife became considerable more selfish than she had been before. She has done and said a lot of things that have caused a lot of hurt to our family, whether it is intended or not-- because while my family may not communicate well, we are fiercely loyal. When someone is harming one of ours, we become VERY protective and defensive no matter what his or her flaws may be. She has placed one of her guy friends in a higher position of importance in her life than my brother on several occasions and this is not okay. This is what I fear for myself. I fear that I will end up with someone who doesn't cherish me the way I deserve to be cherished. I fear that I will end up just as lonely married as I have been single. I fear being emotionally abandoned. Perhaps that is ridiculous, but based on my history, it is with good cause.
Then again, perhaps after all the time I have waited and have yet to wait, and because I have seen the kind of wife I could never be and the kind of husband I could not have, perhaps this will be the difference that will matter. Perhaps this will rescue me from the relational chaos that my family history would doom me too if not for God's grace.

Game Night with Barack Obama

2008-01-05T07:20:00.000-08:00

Okay, so last night I had quite a strange dream. I was at somebody's house, I'm not sure whose, and we were having a game night. The house felt strangely familiar in the dream, but now that I am awake, I cannot identify it. There were quite a few people at the house, intermixed from different parts of my life as usual, plus some I didn't know. Some of my family members were there and also some church friends, and all were mingling together during the games as if they'd all known each other for years.
At one point I got up to get something to drink from the stainless steel refrigerator and there was a girl there I didn't know. She started talking about the blogs and she said, "And then there's that Jeni girl. Her blogs are SOOO boring."
I spoke up and said, "Hey, that's me!"
And her response was a flippant, "I know."
Right about that time, the board game ended and everyone started gathering in the kitchen to get some snacks in between games. We were all chatting and getting ready to head back to the table when there was a brief tap on the door. Before anybody can get over to let our guest in, the door opened and in walked Barack Obama. Everyone looked at him, astounded, not really certain that he was really there.
When he finally opened his mouth to speak, he said, "What's the matter? Did you think I didn't know about these things?"
He sat down at the table, as did his wife and children, and he motioned for all of us to join him.

And then I woke up. That was interesting...

For a Limited Time Only

2008-01-03T21:46:00.000-08:00

Okay, so perhaps the title of this post is a bit too much like an advertisement. But really it is accurate. Because here's the thing... I have this friend. Let's just call her "Schmecky". Oh wait, we've already done this, haven't we?
I guess I'll refrain from calling her "Schmecky" for the entire post AGAIN. So anyway, yesterday Becky was here. For one whole day. 24 hours. (Well, maybe more like 28, but since I was working, it didn't really matter.) We went out last night. I wasn't ready to go yet when Becky and Mary came to pick me up at my apartment--I had just gotten home and was trying to change after work. It made things a bit frantic. But anyway, I got ready to go and we headed downtown for a 4:50 movie time. We watched Charlie Wilson's War which was quite depressing. Then we went to Bangkok Cuisine for dinner. This was a required activity. Before Becky decided what day she was coming into town, she requested that I call Bangkok to see if they would be open on New Year's Day. If they had been, she would have been here then, but alas, they were not, and so the day after New Year's would have to do.
After dinner, we were faced with another disappointment. The Chocolate Bar was CLOSED! AHHHHHHHHHH! So we went to Seven Tea on Arlington instead where we chose drinks named for the seven deadly sins. As you can imagine, this resulted in quite a few jokes. And then it was time for me to go home since I had to work at 7am again today. And now it will be another 8 or 9 months before I see one of my closest friends again.
In the mean time, Mary has suggested that I get involved volunteering for an unnamed presidential campaign. This was probably just as much for her sake as it was for mine, since she doesn't want to volunteer alone. And Becky is a bit sad because she won't be here to caucus. Anyway, I signed both of us (Mary and I) today and we are thinking of going to the caucus party on Tuesday. Woo hoo! Who knew that I could be this nerdy.
I think perhaps I should stop writing before I let it slip that I bought 11 books on Barnes and Noble's website this weekend. (They were all clearance, so I really only spent about 35 dollars...) OOPS! I didn't mean to actually tell that! :)
Well, good night to all, and I hope you have nerdy dreams!

Ponderings on Jury Duty

2007-12-13T15:21:00.000-08:00

I have just completed my first jury duty experience, and to be quite frank, it is an experience I would prefer not to repeat. EVER.

The process began with the jury selection on Monday. Our group was sent to the courtroom and told that 31 random names would be drawn. I really did not want to be selected, not because I didn't want to serve, but because it just wasn't a good time. I was just off for two weeks, had been back for two weeks, and now this! As we made our way up the stairs to the second floor, my purse came open and all of the contents spilled out. A couple of men stopped to help me gather up my things, and then we were on our way. We grabbed the last few remaining seats in the gallery and waited for things to begin.
They explained to us that the court clerk would draw 31 names at random to comprise the jury pool. At this time the defendants, the defense attorneys, the prosecutor and of course the judge, were all already in the courtroom. The first name drawn was the man sitting next to me who had helped me pick up my things. I knew before they said it that my name was going to be the next name called. I also knew that instant that I would be on this jury. I don't know how I knew, I just knew.
At one point during the jury selections, there was a woman who said that she did not feel that she could serve on a jury because according to God, it was not her place to judge another.

As the trial began, it became evident that this was by no means a clear cut case. It was a sexual assault case, and therefore by nature came down to he said she said. I found myself wondering why I couldn't have been selected for something simpler, like a drug trial, where the evidence would be more clear cut, more obvious, less ambiguous.

This is by no means a complaint. It was a very good experience, and I can honestly say that I learned a great deal about how I relate with others. For example, I have very little tolerance for people who have to state their opinion about every little thing without letting anyone else complete a thought or get a word in edgewise. I also have very little tolerance for people who think that just because they experienced something one way, that EVERY other person who experiences the same thing should have the same feelings, the same reactions, the same responses. In this intolerance of mine, I tend to be more blunt and direct than some people are used to, and that is clearly something I need to continue to work on.

One of the most interesting parts of the experience was watching people come to their ultimate and final decisions and what it took for each person. We deliberated the case for about nine hours total--about five last night (until 11:30 pm) and four today. Nine total hours debating one simple point: Was the sexual activity in question consensual or not? There were many side points confirming or refuting that we discussed, but ultimately there was just that one single question to be answered, and it took twelve of us NINE HOURS to agree on the answer. I have to say that it was one of the most exhausting experiences of my life. It is hard enough to get TWO people to agree, let alone TWELVE!

So, in a nutshell, I am glad to have experienced this, just for the mere sake of seeing inside of the judicial process first hand. I am tired from the effort of reaching a consensus, which last night I had thought we were never going to reach. I am grateful that the trial is done and over with and I can now return to my life as usual.

Only 37 and a half more hours...

2007-11-11T23:48:00.000-08:00

Less than two more days until D-day. And I mean that quite literally. I am feeling nervous, but not nearly as nervous as I had expected to feel at this point. Last night I had a dream that it had already happened. In the dream, it started right when I was being put to sleep. When I woke up, my mom and dad were there. My dad peeled back my bandages to peek and then said, they look great. I hope you like them. It was kind of creepy. Then after that, we went downstairs to look for something to eat. We took the elevator down, and then we were in a casino. (That's pretty depressing that in my dream, even the hospital had a casino!) Then I decided I didn't feel well enough to eat, so we went back to my room and I went to sleep. Then I rolled over in my dream (as well as in real life) and I freaked out because I was supposed to be sleeping only on my back. That is when I woke up.
Now I'm trying to get my apartment clean for when I come home from my mom's. I am waiting for the dishwasher to get done so that I can go to bed. Then tomorrow, after I get the rest of my cleaning done, I will head out to my mom's house, where we will be doing more cleaning because my mom decided to make our weekly Dancing with the Stars ritual a party of sorts. Usually it's just my mom and I and sometimes my friend Christina, but since it is the night before my surgery, my mom decided to make it a party and invite a few more people. There may be about seven of us watching it.
In other news, since I figure I won't be able to drive to church next week, I asked my mom if she would take me and come with me. I told her that we no longer pray out loud in big groups, which is what freaked her out last time she came with me. Upon hearing that, she agreed to come with me. Yay! My sinister plot has succeeded. The reality of it is that it will be very nice to not show up to church alone and to not sit alone and to not have to work so hard to find someone to do communion with. I know this may sound a bit selfish, and I really don't mean it that way. I really do want my mom to come with me for her sake. But I can still see the advantages for myself. And it will be nice for her to meet all of the people who are more family to me that most of my family. I hope that I feel up to venturing out on Sunday.
I don't think I have anything else to add because my brain is turning into mush due to the lateness of the hour. :) Good night all!

12 days and counting

2007-11-01T21:03:00.000-07:00

Only twelve more days until my surgery. If you don't know what I'm talking about, it would be detailed in the posts marked "for ladies only". The rebellious men who are close friends ignored those comments and read them anyway. So if you really want to know, go back and check out those posts.
At any rate, as I get closer and closer, I get even more nervous. But at the same time, I am very excited, and I am very much looking forward to taking up running again in the early part of next year. But despite the excitement, the nerves are the dominant feeling right now. If ya'll could be praying that I would be able to get rest over the next couple of weeks and for the weeks following the surgery. It actually occurs on November 13. Also prayers that it would go well and that I would heal quickly would also be appreciated.
I have lots of lists of things to do between now and then. Things to buy, things to pack to bring to my mom's house, things not to do. And I keep going back to the lists, worried that I'm overlooking some major thing that I need to do beforehand, even though I know that it's just because I am nervous.
In the spirit of change that is happening and is soon to come, I updated my blog colors to reflect the season... I suppose it just means that in a few weeks, after Thanksgiving, I will have to change the colors again to reflect Christmas. Oh well, we'll get to that soon enough...

And I'm still laughing...

2007-10-29T22:56:00.000-07:00

So I was getting my evening news update, as I frequently do, from rgj.com when I came across an article about "GodTube". This is apparently supposed to be the Christian version of YouTube. I clicked on the link, just out of curiosity, and I found an add for this website: click here to laugh.

I have no words to express my feelings about that. Just laughter. I hope ya'll enjoy it as much as I did!

Linnea's Quill

A Choice

Letter to Me

What happened to my heart?

My Neglected Blog

Finding Hope

Working Through...

Stagnant

I May Be Crazy

Dumpy day

Taking control while giving it over

Christmas Weekend So Far

In most families, I'd be the weird one, but in this family, I'm the normal one...

Wishes

Lies

Piece by Piece

Snot

In the Beginning There Was the Word

I Don't Remember

Memory is Imagination

A New Challenge

No Big Deal

Trying New Things and Finding Comfort in the Old

Lost Things

Life and things to come...

My blog has been neglected...

Pointless Pregnancy Tests

45 minutes at the doctor's office and here's the big news: I'm NOT pregnant. *Note Sarcasm*

I thought I was going to have to move again

Things I didn't do before

Weekend in Vegas Part I

Too much drama

Extending Love Without Expectations

A New Season

Violated!

Life should be more than this...

My Essay, as Promised

A New You in 2009

Happy New Year and Welcome to 2009!

Out with 2008,

A Post About Nothing.

Beauty: A Fallacy in My Thinking AND Roommates Part 5 of 6

And I'm Back With Roommates Part 4

A New Blog

Random Thoughts-- And Roommates Pt 3 of 6

The Dorms Part II (Post 2 of 6)

After a Monthlong Delay...

Breaking Free from Unforgiveness

Processing the Emo

The little things

Elbow-gate 2008

Some random things...

I may be stubborn, but I am not left-handed

Asking for help

Success at last... and a failure

Overhaulin'

More than mere words...

A Reward Upon Completion

Things to Come

Another Sleepless Night

Getting things in order

Strange.... And Yet I Cried...

Smokey's Outdoor Adventure

Pictures in paint peeling... and Protestants

The best thing he ever did for me...

A House is not a home...

Small Surprises

Just in Time

Houston, We Have Internet!

Calling All Winewalkers.

Straight off the rack

Just What I Need

Like He Owns the Place

My Little Unimportant Rant

The things I don't say.

Ummmm... OOOPS!

Redneck Candid Camera

Jeni's First Digital Camera

Perhaps I should take up swimming...

Response to a comment

45 minutes at the doctor's office and here's the big news: I'm NOT pregnant. Note Sarcasm