Pressing On

I'm not a fan of excising.  Let's just get that out of the way.  I have had the hardest time setting a schedule to 'work out' and sticking to it for more than a few weeks.  The best intentions right?  Now, that's not to say I don't get out and move.  I walk the dogs.  I love to hike.  And I have a seasonal love affair with my bike.  See riding is my 'me time'.  I tend to take 'me time' once or twice a week from the time it warms up to 50° until it cools back down to 50°. The wind in my face.  The burn in my thighs.  The sound of the tires crunching in the aggregate.  The freedom to think and feel without interruption.  Love my 'me time'.  But I don't think of it as exercise.  There is no consistency.  I do it as I need it.

I promised Myka (That would be my sweet ride. A beautiful 16in, 2008 Specialized Myka Sport. White with red butterflies 'tearing' out of the frame. A pretty sweet ride indeed.) that after the Tour de Cure, I would take her in for a tune up and cleaning.  Afterall, a happy bike means a happy ride. And she deserves it. And I've taken my sweet time getting her in.  So I felt I needed to do something else to get out and move.  I think we all know what's coming...

                                                               Myka. She's pretty sweet.


I took up running.  Well I move my legs more than walking and bounce a little. Running would be a generous description of what I am actually doing.  But I'm doing it.  And not some fancy 'couch to 5k training' program.  Been there, tried that, FAILED.  And I hated it.  I tied my old worn out shoes and was determined to do it.  So I did. I walked to the preserve a half mile away from the house and picked a spot and said 'I will run there' and went.  And when I got to that point I stopped, stretched, and picked a new spot.  And so on.  I walked and ran 3 miles that first time.  And I went home and took a shower and felt ok.  Not bad for my first run since high school.

I woke up the next morning and felt awful.  I was incredibly sore.  My feet hurt and were completely stressed out.  My knees were on fire.  Muscles I didn't realized I had even used were audibly ticked off with me.  And I wanted to cry.  'This is why I don't run.'  'What the hell was I thinking?'  Work was painful.  And I knew it would be weeks before I would do that again.

And it was.  3 weeks.  To be fair, Tour was the week after the run and there was NO way I was going to stress my body out while I was in the final stages of training for 30 miles.  I don't know what it was.  I just couldn't quit this time.  I needed to move while I was waiting for Myka to be done at the shop.  I needed to find 'me time' with the 2 dogs at home (who always need to be in the exact same spot I am).  I am stubborn to a fault sometimes.  I looked up a few tips and picked out that I thought would help.

I decided to tape my feet for arch support (a little trick from playing soccer).  The only tape I had was painters tape.  So I used it.

                                                 Pre-Run injury prevention. Thanks 3M:-p

Carry the water bottle was stressful on my hands (I clutched it until I thought it would tear).  So I grabbed one of my running shirts with the pockets in the back.  Fits the water bottle perfectly.  Bonus: I can carry my inhaler in the pocket and not carry it either, AND my phone fits in the 3rd pocket: running tunes!

My feet went numb.  I found a site that suggested threading my laces 'straight' at the top of my foot not in an X pattern.  So I did.

And I went out.

I had a path in mind that combined walking and running and stuck to my plan.  I moved slower than a turtle, but I pressed on.  I went 4 miles, with about half of it actually running.  I got home sweaty and exhausted.  I did what I set out to do.  And I felt pretty darn proud of myself.  The next morning was sore, but not awful.  The little tricks made a big difference.  And I made myself do it again 2 days later.  I wasn't going to give up.


And I haven't so far.  I plan out my runs for Tuesday and Thursday nights.  This way when the school year starts again, this will still fit into my schedule.  I am slow.  But I press on.


I have a blister that covers the complete instep of my right foot.  It is extremely sore to the touch.  It finally dried out and broke open last night half way through my run.  But I  press on.


I have so many bug bites.  They have welted in spots and are impossible not to itch raw.  But I press on.


The tendons in my feet are tearing and healing after each run as they get used to the impact.  There are a few mornings it's been hard to walk.  But I press on.


My neck and shoulders are stiff from my running posture.  I am learning how to hold myself correctly, but it's a process.  It's interrupted my sleep a few nights.  But I press on.


I feel a bizarre sense of accomplishment after I finish each run.  I can actually feel my body responding and getting stronger with every mile.  After 6 consistent runs, I can see physical changes in my body.  My thighs are tighter.  I've lost inches around my middle.  My arms are slimmer.  (My tush looks great!)  I never set out to lose weight or even really change anything.  I just wanted to get out and move and my normal mode of outdoor movement was in the shop.  I understand how people can say running is addicting.  I have found my mantra 'each step is one more than yesterday'.

I'm not sure how I can say this, but I'm pretty sure running will stick.  I still don't 'like' it, but I love how it makes me feel.  Powerful.  Accomplished.  I know I can set reasonable goals that are tangible.  I've already met a few.  I am enjoying the challenge.  I even rewarded my feet last night with a new pair of shoes.  Happy feet means a happy run right?

                                                               Pressing on...in style.

Growing Up

One day you wake up, look in the mirror, and realize: you are a grown up.  No fanfare.  No big party to celebrate.  No milestone.  Just the realization that getting up, putting on slacks, mentally running through the list of 'to dos' at the office that morning while walking the dog, and sitting in rush hour traffic is the norm.  It's been routine for so long, you don't remember sleeping in, going to class, or worrying about what to wear to the party on Friday (ok let's be honest...I never actually worried about that).

Now it's: do I need milk? did I pay the eye doctor bill? when is the warranty up on the fridge?  The toilet is running, I should get new parts and fix it this weekend.  Ooo...there is a sale on linens!  And I'd love to say these are just examples thought up, but they are actual thoughts I have had in the last 2 weeks.  Normal, everyday, real grown up thoughts.  

I always assumed that growing up would happen with a life event to herald in this monumental life change.

Turning 18.  That makes you a legal grown up.  You can vote, join the army, enter into contracts.  A full fledged 'grown up'.  But it didn't feel so different than 17.  Or 19 for that matter.

Going to college.  Anyone who says that going to college is 'experiencing the real world' is lying. Perhaps it was the small, private, fairly isolated college I went to, but it was the furthest thing from being an adult.  Living with your friends, only having 4 hours of class most days, maybe working 2 hours, and spending the rest of the night eating pizza, watching Friends, and 'studying' was the ultimate childhood sleep over for 4 years.

That first real job.  Making an actual paycheck that will cover more than pizza and movies.  Being partly responsible for the bottom line and day to day running on an actual company.  Even getting an apartment and paying bills felt less than accomplished.  I was still grasping for that grown up feeling.

Buying my first house.  Signing the papers (and the heart attack that come with the final price after the interest).  Being handed the keys.  Even the very grown up house warming gifts of appliances and furniture.  It was all very exciting, but it didn't feel any more adult (maybe because it was actually less money) than signing the student loans. I expected it to feel more.  I expected the trumpets, the heart pounding, the 'now you are a real grown up' feeling.  But it wasn't the light switch I was expecting.

Growing up was a quiet event.  All the experiences of adult hood entwining together to form this strong, scarred, hodgepodged adult with a life full of responsibilities and obligation.  Full of adventure, laughter, and friendship holding all the pieces together.  Full of experiences, knowledge, and empathy sought out for advice and leadership.  A beautiful, complicated, busy life.

Realization came the day I brought home my new puppy.  The decision was not made in haste, it was measured and weighed.  Would my 'first born' accept a new member into our pack?  Was the energy level of the puppy compatible with the almost 6 year old?  Could I reassure 'first born' that he was not being replaced?  Would I be able to take the appropriate time during the day to walk and feed the puppy?  Research was done for the best way to aid in the transition.  Slow introductions were made.  New items were bought weeks ahead of the puppy so the oldest could get used to their placement.  We had sleepovers before bringing puppy home permanently.  Family was introduced to puppy outside of the home so the oldest would't be jealous at the attention.  There was a lot of excitement, but the transition was deliberate, careful, and well planned.

I sat on the couch the first night our pack was together, and it occurred to me that this was the most intentional decision I had ever made.  Not which college.  Not the house.  Not even the 'first born' was made with such careful consideration.  It wasn't about how cute the puppy was.  It wasn't about how much I wanted the puppy.  It was about considering how it would effect the 'first born'.  It was how it would all fit together.  I looked at the dogs asleep next to me, in the basement of my house, after a long day at work, and I realized: I wasn't sure when or how I got here, but I was here.  I was officially a grown up.  And I found peace in that thought.  I have endured and weathered the constant battering of growing up, and now the foundation was solid.  The waves will roll.  They always roll.  But I have survived.  I am standing here with a confidence that only comes with experience.  I'm proud of the scares.  I'm happy to my bones.  I have arrived.  And I think I like it.
   

Chaos

[Enter Post Title Here]

And yet, amidst the chaos and pain, the show must go on.

And as my wise friend added…and yet, amidst the sadness, love endures and sustains.

Yesterday I wasn’t feeling the greatest.  I was still recovering from a small bout of food poison that left my stomach in ruins on Monday.  I needed to get out on the bike.  My last 2 rides were too far apart and both felt awful.  My muscles hurt, my breathing was off, I felt wiped after both rides…and they were only 8.5 miles.  My shortest in months. I have 3 loads of laundry that need to be put away.    My house needs to be cleaned.  Really cleaned.  Top to bottom cleaned and organized before we get into production.  I have a grant to revise and get out for comments before we go into production.  I have work to catch up on after being out on Monday.  I have work to catch up on since I am still doing more than my job title can handle.  I have work to catch up on because with all the other things, I am very easily distracted.  I feel pulled in a million different directions and it’s stressing me out.  My life feels like chaos.  I knew yesterday was not going to be a great day before I even got out of bed.  I had no idea how true those thoughts would turn out to be.

I arrived late at work after trying to calm a headache (not enough water Monday).  I felt out of sorts and unprepared for my Tuesday meeting.  But I was going to make the most of it and get as much done as I could.  I ran my reports, got my first count done for the day, returned a few phone calls.  Behind, but moving forward; not a terrible start to a day.  All I needed was a little I Heart Radio to motivate me to keep going.  And that’s when I saw the smiley text message icon.  Why are they smiley?  The information in that text was nothing to smile about.  It was about to turn my whole day on its head…and it had barely started.

One of my best friends sent a text: Her mother-in-law had suffered a ruptured aneurysm and had been airlifted from East Grand Forks to Abbot Northwestern Hospital in the cities.  They had run all the reflex and EEG tests Monday night.  They indicated no response.  They were running them again at noon.  Please pray.

Nothing brings life into clearer focus than sudden tragic news.  Problems become trivial when you hear of life and death struggles so close to home.  Your heart stops.  Stomach drops.  You forget to breathe.  Your eyes overflow.  And you forget to worry about all the little things.  Even if only for a few moments.  And the only thing that matters in those few precious moments is love. 

Those moments are a reminder that life is fragile and truly unpredictable.  That the only thing we can give to one another that is lasting is our feelings…good or bad…and the words and actions that accompany them.  Those moments are spent thinking of the people that continually change your life.  Those that waking up without tomorrow would be unbearable.  You recall last conversations; did you make sure to tell them you loved them?  When was the last time you reached out and just let them know you think about them?  You start to write mental letters to send, jump on Facebook to say a quick hello, grab your phone to send that text.  You tuck these people a little tighter in your heart, because right now, that’s where you need them most. 

The next moments are spent alternately thinking of those you’ve hurt.  The conversations that ended cruelly.  Words that were said that you want to take back right now, even if you meant them at the time.  Wounds resurface and guilt springs anew.  You find yourself wishing you could change the outcome, just so you wouldn’t feel so badly about it right now.  Mostly, you wish that if you left this world right now, this would not be how they would remember you.     

Then you return the real moment.  One of those people that you love is hurting.  And you can’t take it away.  There is no magic cure.  All you can offer is a shoulder, a kind word, an offer to handle the mundane things that are needed to keep the rest of the world moving.  There are animals that need to be fed.  Phone calls that need to be made.  Mail needs to be checked.  Food must be consumed.  For them the world has stopped.  Time is a holding pattern.  The ‘show is going on’ without them for a time.  All you can do is love them until the answers are known.

For my friend, there is no happy ending.  No joyful insights.  The second test confirmed the first, there was no response.  The damage was too great.  The machines were keeping her body alive, but her soul was gone.  I know there is nothing I can do for her or her husband but be here to support them in their grief.  All those things I needed to do yesterday are not as important today.  Making sure they take the time to eat and sleep is.  Taking care of them so they can take care of each other.  Their life is in chaos.  I cannot make the pain go away, but I can try and contain some of the chaos.  In the end, all they are left with, all we are left with, is the love we have for each other.  It is all we have to sustain and carry us through when the rest of the world pushes on, and ours is standing still.

Popularity Contest

You've heard people say it again and again: life is not some big popularity contest. It's meant to mean well. To cheer us up when something just doesn't add up the way we want it. It's meant to raise our self esteem. To make us feel better about something. To make is feel we are all equal. But when you really break it all down, isn't this all a lie?

Life really is one big popularity contest. It is who you know. It's how people perceive you. And yes ladies, it is about how you look. And I'm not being a negative Nancy. It's not always a bad thing. Popularity is subjective, and it's not permanent. I might be popular at church, but not as much at work. Popular means 2 different things in this context. Popular at church means people know who I am. I am reliable, passionate about 'my' kids, trustworthy. There's a reason I've been asked to be on council twice in 6 years. Popularity equals dedication. It's a mixed blessing.

At work, I am popular when there is a problem. In all seriousness, if I was up for a position against say Diana, no contest she would get it. She's outgoing. She's a customer people person. She understands corporate wine and dine. I work in the trenches. I deal with boring things like buying things and keeping inventory correct. Important yes. But certainly not glamorous. I'm practical. The joke is if you hear from me, something is wrong. I work behind the scenes to make the boss look good. And in this context, I'm ok with not being popular. The only edge I would have is with a regulatory position. I can do mundane details and government bureaucracy. Most people would rip their hair out. I say bring it on.

And it's deeper than just this. Being 30 and single, I'm not the first person to be noticed when I go out. I'm short, slightly overweight, and (gulp) starting to go grey. I'm not 20, blond, and skinny. And yes men are attracted to different types, but stereotypes exist because there is some truth behind them. Might not be fair, but it is real. I am not outgoing. I'm not going to try and get attention with my actions, looks, and attitude. I'm not 'popular'. Never have been and never will be. But I can offer more once popular gets old. Loyalty. I'm not looking for the next 'high'. I'm not interested in the 'right' party, bar opening, or celebrity. I'm will still be the same person tomorrow. I'm not constantly looking for more. Social popularity relies on fads. Loyalty doesn't. I'd rather be loyal than popular.


So why this sudden tangent? I threw a party the other day. I planned it and invited people 4 weeks in advance. Theme: tacky Christmas...in June. I invited 40 people. Most people declined. Why? I'm just not that popular. People like me. Let's make that clear. A lot of people like me. I get invited to other peoples parties. But I'm now known for being a fun outgoing person (ok I think that's pretty well established now). Obviously my party wasn't going to be wild and crazy, fun yes, but in a 'social gathering' kind of way. I'm really seen as a dinner party in a formal dining room with table cloths, napkins, and candle sticks kind of person. Which is probably pretty true. My parties will never be crazy, but the food will be awesome. I leave crazy to the friends with the pool. And they are very popular. Their parties are well attended. Why? They are fun and crazy. I had a small showing with lots of laughter and great food (I made a pretty awesome cranberry pineapple salsa). And it was fun. But it made me realize that being popular does count for something. There are immediate benefits to being outgoing, good looking, and passionate. But popularity is fleeting. It gets bored easily. It's never ready to settle. And once it's gone, what remains is loyalty, dependability, and good food. I'll keep my small group of friends, laughter, and new recipes. It might be fun to be more popular...for a while. there are doors that would be open that are not now. My life might be very different. But what would I have lost? I'm not sure if I'd be satisfied. So maybe 'plain Jane' has its advantages.

posted from Bloggeroid

Resurrection

Wow, my first post in...well a long time. It was my hope a better phone meant more blogging. In reality it means more distractions. More Facebook. More twitter. More YouTube (scary, auto correct knows that word). More ways to stay current, and yet more ways to disconnect. See it's not that I haven't been writing, I've just found more solace going low tech. There are several pass of paper around my house with words, thoughts, ponderings, musings scribbled across them. I love to write. and nothing will ever replace the joy of a blank piece of paper and a good pen. Even the script I wrote for River City Theatre Company was mostly written in a notebook.

I find I can be more ethereal on paper. Scratch out, write over, rearrange. More organic. There is no back space. No delete. The original is always there. Maybe it's that I can be more honest. Look at it; digest it before I share it. I can refine it. I can hide more. I can add more layers so it isn't as naked and exposed. I'm all for honesty. But there is a fine line between being open and being sensational. I share what I feel, but I never look for pity or even understanding. Sometimes it's just easier to put it out there for people to read than to have to say the same things to multiple people. And if someone reads my ramblings and can relate and suddenly doesn't feel so alone, then I've done a bit of good.

So I have more to share. This year...the last few months have been quite a journey. Sometimes victorious, sometimes painful, but always beautiful. So if you can bare with (and Swype and Auto correct...which both are out to get me), I'll share more. I promise.

posted from Bloggeroid

Character Assassination

I am in shock. The pain of what you insinuate, nay what you speak as though truth, cuts me to the core. I will never see you the same way again. And deep down even you know it's not true. But it will not stop you from using your malicious lies to poison people against me. What have I done to deserve this kind of treatment? What could possibly justify trying, and in some cases succeeding, to create bold lies to turn opinions against me? Why the assassination?

For the record, I NEVER was unfaithful to our relationship. I take commitment seriously. I would never want to be the one on the other end, so I would never put anyone else there either. When I say yes, I go in full hearted. I am loyal to a fault. I could not live with myself or the guilt of breaking that commitment. My morals are not ambiguous. To be unfaithful is to consciously disrespect and hurt the person you are committed to. It is the deepest and most complete way to destroy another human being. The thought of it makes me sick. I would not wish that kind of pain on ANYONE. And in general, when I make a commitment, I see it through to the bloody, sometimes, painful end. And I do so with a clear conscious. And it is not a part of my character that I can hide. It is written in my actions. And to even imply contrary is incorrect. But that doesn't stop you, does it?

You make the claim I did not honor the commitment I made to you. You are lying. And if you honestly believe your own words, then you never knew me. You claim I betrayed you, I question when? I may have hurt you, but that does not excuse maligning my character.

You claim 'your friends' hate me. But how could they form such a strong dislike without fuel. You have purposely spread rumors to ensure people would take 'your side' in the battlefield that only exists in your mind. I am not fighting against you; you are fighting against you. But you have made others believe they have to take sides. You have become a very petty person. I would never ask a friend to chose. There are people who believe the lies you have started. What does that say about them? They judge based not on fact, but on your anger and hurt. You have destroyed my friendships with these lies. But that is what you want, isn't it? You need someone to be as miserable as you are. You need someone to dwell in your hurt and anger as well. You have succeeded. There are people I will no longer talk to knowing you have been spreading your poison. I will not exist in your counter reality or answer to the inquisition you sentence me to. And the weak souls who blindly sway because of your filth are not people I want to surround myself with. I have walked away from MY friends because of you. I will never forget that.

What you have done is petty. You demean yourself as well. You show your own true character by doing this. You may have attacked me with your words, but what have your actions done to you? Truth is hard to extinguish. It finds a way to burn through the darkness. When it does, how will you look? Will it be your words or your actions that will speak the loudest?

posted from Bloggeroid

The aftermath

It’s over. The night has ended. Everyone is home. Everyone is safe. And I am left with all of this. The feelings. The emotions. The numbness and yet intense pain.

He arrived early. Probably for the best. Let us get a firm footing before adding others to the mix. I was talking to my neighbor. I was trying to prolong being alone with him. To acknowledging he was here. In the flesh. After 8 years. It was happening. The reconnection. I hid for a few mins. Trying to assess what was happening. How this was going to work. He was here. And I wasn’t sure how to react. But I was happy. The moment is still fresh. I can still see it. The car. His tentative smile. Mine in return. It was him. A few years older. But the eyes and the smile were the same. We stood there awkwardly for a few seconds. Pretending we knew what to do and this was no big deal. The years and the miles scorched away for a few seconds. We were just us. Two friends. Separated by only a few days, months maybe, but not years. We stepped inside. Alone for the first time. And he opened his arms. Everything melted away. Here he stood. One of my best friends from yesterday. His embrace was gentle and warm and I gladly accepted it. Was grateful for the offer. It is a moment I will lock away. In that hug was relief, comfort, forgiveness, and maybe just a little bliss. A chance for us each to atone for the silence. A moment I may never forget. We were there. Two friends. The past intermingled with the now. Whatever came next we could handle.

Then words. Trying to fill the space. Still slightly uncomfortable what to say. A silent understanding to leave the past unspoken for now. Try and fill the space of now. A tour of my home. To introduce him to the me of today. The 30 seconds of catch up carefully avoiding the few landmines that hung there. The mention of the girlfriend. Joy and sorrow truly mixed. Joy that he has found peace. Sorrow for the conversations that might never happen. It would be unfair of me to remind him of the wounds. I know I will like her. I see what she has done for him. She must be amazing. And honestly, I can’t wait to meet her. She is going to give up everything to be with him, and he is willing to let her. She must be wonderful. He loves her deeply. And I know I will love her too. In time. If he lets me.

Sorrow. A sorrow I didn’t know I would feel. The finality is there. There is no chance to rekindle anything. Confusion whether I wanted to. We were in the past. Our present is not connected to that time. He is committed. I respect that. I will support him because he needs that. He deserves that. And I am genuinely happy for him. Even though I died a little. My heart sank yet soared. And it came to me. Suddenly. Unexpectedly. I love him. The intensity stole the breath from my lungs for a moment. I love him. Still. Truly. Honestly. Profoundly. He was some mysterious sway over me even years later. After all the silence. After the non answers. The anger. The frustrations. The pain. It’s still there. Pulling my heart in a direction it forgot. I would be content to be by his side. But he has chosen another. And my heart is warmed to see him happy. And I am not miserable to know this, yet crushed that fate has been sealed.

But I thought I was past this. All of this. Past him. Past the connection my heart felt when we were together. Past the stabbing pain when someone would mention his name. Past never being able to look at his picture. I had moved forward as well. Loved another. Was content with another. Have I been lying to myself? Was the ex right? Do I still ‘pine’ for him? Will I always love him? Does that mean I will not be able to fully love another? Or will speaking it make it less powerful? Or is the heart simply wondrous enough to find room for it all? Do I want this feeling to go away? I just wasn’t prepared to feel this way. Anger, yes. Joy, yes. Love…no. I cherish those few minuets we had alone. To let the range of emotions sweep over me. To give me a chance to just experience them. I am not sure if I hid them from him. I tried. It would be unfair of me to show him this.

People arrived. Hellos all around. I gave him space to reacquaint with others. To get to know them again too. To reconnect with the others from yesterday. I think he needed us. Needed to be surrounded by people who once knew him. People who still support him. People who will surround him if he will let us. We want to be his friends. We want him to know he’s welcome here. That when he hits these crossroads, he’s not alone.

The evening was spent laughing. Joking. Catching up. Talking about nothing in particular. Grilling, eating, drinking. The things we all did best. The things we all enjoy. The conversation flowed. No one brought up the silence. No one asked why. We just accepted that today was today and it was good enough for all of us. It was fun. It was enjoyable. It was healing. And it was needed. It had been too long. We are not the same. But that didn’t mean we couldn’t be friends. We could forgive and forget and be in the moment. I hope others felt this way. I hope it will happen again. I hope that it was a beginning. Because I don’t want to cut him out. No matter how I feel.

I want you to be happy; even while my heart is crumbling. Exposed to the cruel light of reality. A reality I didn’t know existed. A reality I think I didn’t want to know. It hurt. I looked through my pictures from college tonight. An album I keep in a drawer. I haven’t looked at them in a long time. I have 10 pictures of us. Images that set my heart ablaze. 10 pictures of a time when we were us before all of this. 10 pictures that I can only look at on occasion because they make me sad. They remind me of your loss, both love and kinship. But tonight, I wanted to remember. Because tonight I remembered how much I love you. I know now that I love you enough to stand by you and celebrate your love to someone else. I love you enough to finally let you go. Enough to see how happy you are. To know that the musings of who we were and what we might have been are mine and mine alone. I love you enough to keep the thoughts of who we could be buried. And finally move on for real. You are wonderful, complicated, and amazing. Please understand though how much my heart is aching for you. How hard this is for me. And how much I wish you all the happiness the world can offer. How much I have no intention of ever telling you any of this. I love you enough for this.

We are something special when our lives intersect. I desire, more than anything else, to be your friend. You make me better. Your friendship makes me whole. You complete me in your understanding of me. Your ability to put my mind at peace proves that. We are friends. I’ve missed you, my friend. I have shed tears tonight for all we could have been. For all the memories of a future my mind had long forgotten. For all that we have missed all these years. The connection still thrives. Our lives will forever intersect.

I have cried to God himself for guidance. You need to be happy and complete. And so do I. And if being on the sidelines means being able to be your friend, then I will be there. I know I will find that kind of love too. The completeness that comes from entwining my life to another. We will both find it. All we’ve searched for. And it won’t be together. My tears will be answered. Our hearts will be filled. But please, dear Matthew, promise we will be friends. That’s all I ask you. That’s what I pray for. That tonight is not good bye. That the last few hours were a breathtaking hello. That the foundation has been laid to a new kind of kinship. I pray also that tomorrow the light will be warm and kind and the offer of friendship will be there. That the healing can be completed.

I promise you my heart will heal. The pain will lessen. The smile on my lips will be real. This time I have closure. The thing I was denied before. I have heard the truth from you. It won’t stop me from loving you. But it also won’t change my desire to be your friend. It’s been a long time, and I have missed you. Don’t let this be goodbye.

The build up

the time has come. I knew it would happen eventually. I always assumed it would be because the circumstances made it happen. not a conscious choice by either of us. Someone else would drive it and we would just be along for the ride. That's how it was supposed to happen. I was prepared for that. and it was becoming clear that that time was drawing near. A birthday party in august? A wedding next fall? I was not prepared for this. A plan begun by both of us. On our terms. Our choice. Our doing. But for me, the feelings are spiraling out of control. I'm sick to my stomach, nervous, scared, excited, elated, and very confused. In 4 short hours I will see him again. In the flesh. In 4 hours he will me at my house. He will have to talk to me. Honestly communicate with me for the first time in 8 years.
I am so out of my element. I can handle emotions. I can be emotional. But there are no names for the ones shaking my fingers, nerves, and heart. I am anxious for tonight to be here. I am petrified to see him again. I am overjoyed he wanted to come. I've missed him more than I thought, but at the same time I have no idea who he is any longer. I want to prolong the anticipation because I am scared. How will it go? What do we do? How do we act? What is the pretense? Old college friends? Two people who were once more then friends? Just former classmates?
I am close to tears. How will this feel? How do I want it to feel? Is there anyway to truly prepare to see the person you once wanted to spend your life with? it's all out of my control, i don't like not being in control.

it happened so suddenly. a statements about being at crossroads. it sounded like he could hear some positive words. an offering to have people over to share wine and laughter. An honest offer. Usually side stepped. Or ignored. Then the actual reply. Not in comment to my comment. A deliberate message sent to me. 'definatley.' And dates. He was coming to town. He wanted to see people. I set something up. Was I testing him? Was I challenging him? Did I really expect him too follow through? Yes. Yes. no. it's been 8 years since I last talked to him. He implicitly cut me out. He expressly told others he wanted no contact with me. I walked away heart broken. I didn't know how to fight for him. There has been little contact since. A few emails. An almost apology for the many years of silence. A few facebook comments. Nothing consistent. So why now?

I'm scared by how I'm feeling. For all the thoughts and emotions. I don't know how to feel. I don't know how I want tonight to turn out. I'm terrified that this is isolated. That after tonight we go back to silence. That would be far more painful than last time. last time he was my best friend. I loved him so deeply I would have given up almost anything to spend forever with him. I was a different person with him. I allowed myself to be vulnerable with him. I was still headstrong and independent, but he offered me the support I needed and was there to let me fall apart when everything was just too much. No judgment. Just to hold me and let me be weak. And I let myself be that person with him. It was just who he was. and then he just walked away. no good bye. no hateful words. no explanation to anyone. just gone. I miss what we were. I miss joking and laughing and watching cartoons. I miss the cooking and drinking competitions. I miss the conspiracies. I miss my best friend.

But the feelings were not mutual. i have to conclude they weren't. wouldn't we have tried harder if they were? And now we are not the same people. we are not in the same place. we have both been invovled with other people. he is involved now. I fear having to alter my image of him; of having to reconcile then with now. afraid but maybe also hoping they are not the same people. But I wouldn't miss tonight for the world. I'm so excited to show him who I am. I am elated to think maybe we can slowly rebuild a new kind of friendship. His response blew me out of the water. The joy I felt was almost tangible.

And of course a will not be alone. I don't know if I would be able to do this alone. I doubt he would have agreed to. So it's truly going to be a gathering. My best friend and her husband, once his roomate, will be there. He cut them out too. we will be there for each other. They were almost as shocked as I was. A mutal friend whom he mostly kept in contact. Another friend who is more neutral. There will be plenty of people to diffuse the awkwardness. To carry the conversation when it lulls. To laugh and enjoy everyone's company. I am grateful to be able to spend the evening with friends.

I want tonight to be over. To be able to analyze it all. I want tonight to be hours away. So I can prepare. But more than anything, I want it to be time. 3 more hours.

New phone :)

My Blackberry finally just had too many issues. It was time to upgrade, in a big way. I have to admit I didn't really want to. I liked my phone. But I just couldn't deal with the unreliability any more. It's my only phone, my only computer. So I went to the store and walked out with a new Nexus X. A purely Google phone. A huge step up. So far, I'm loving it. I did have every Google App available for the Blackberry. So it was only natural to go all Google. Right? So besides all the cool stuff I can download (seriously, how have I missed Angry Birds), I can blog again! With work being so crazy, I have no time to blog. It was way too hard to do this on the Crackberry. I have been keeping a journal. It's going to take time to get it all on here, but there are two entries I have to get off my chest. This last week was a little surreal. it was wonderful and frightening at the same time. but perhaps I should just let the next entry speak for itself.

MGK Mondays

Why? because i managed to somehow get caught up on last weeks work (woohoo!) and i have a few mins before i feel like starting this weeks work (i'm already behind anyway, what's a few more mins?). Background on this little tidbit: at the end of last winter (before we played musical cubes and sales moved to the other side of the building), it had snowed a lot. so there was a LOT of salt and sand everywhere thanks to the very safety conscious plowing company.

The international sales manager walks by the outside cubes (there are 3 rows of 2 cubes. i am in row 2. i cannot see what is going on.) with a broom. All the offices are carpeted. i didn't even know there was a broom. I guess he was going to brush off his shoes because they had sand/dirt/salt on them from walking in the parking lot. the following takes place: (with only a few embellishments i might add)

Diana: why does Bill have a broom?

Me: he has a broom? as in a kitchen broom?

Diana: yes a kitchen broom.

Francisco: that’s how he gets to his car at night. Didn’t you know that? He just goes up and jumps off the roof.



Me: wouldn’t a jet pack be easier?



Diana: nah, he’s not a modern witch. He likes to kick it old school.



Me: like Sabrina the Teenage Witch?



Fransisco: wasn't that the one with the weird talking cat?

Diana: yep.



Bill walks out of his office with the broom: what are you guys talking about?

The three of us in unison: nothing.



Bill: you guys are weird.

says the guy who finds a broom and brings it to his carpeted office to brush off the shoes that are on his feet. :)

one of those weeks

Have you had one of those weeks too? The kind where the weight of responsibilities feels like it’s crushing you and you can barely breathe? Where it feels like the world is conspiring against you and there is no way out? When you fear striking out at someone who piles one more thing on top of your completely loaded day? The kind where you sit at your desk, a moment away from tears because you are just not sure how much else you can take? The week that you have no idea where any of it came from, but you will be ecstatic when it’s finally over?

I am not sure anyone would describe me as an overly flexible person. I like to be in control and prepare for things (most of the time). Or at least know what is expected of me ahead of time. For instance, I am fine with flying my the seat of my pants when teaching a lesson, however I do like to know a few days in advance that I am teaching it. so I like to control the commitment not necessarily the content. However I really have learned to ‘roll with it’ in the last year or so. change doesn’t make my stomach clench like it used to. But when I am trying to decide what to do during the week, being given a new project, with no deadline, and then being yelled at because it wasn’t done that day; or setting daily work aside to finish new project and then getting emails several times a day asking why the daily stuff wasn’t done DRIVES ME CRAZY! I just can’t win this week.

I don’t know why this week has been so bad. There were no indicators Monday morning it was going to turn out this way. I had a minor scheduling change at work (30mins earlier everyday). Didn’t seem to affect me too much Monday morning. The over loading and ‘reprioritizing’ without actually telling me what was needed when set the swing in motion. One of my new ‘goals’ at work this year is to handle consignment releases of purchased active ingredients. Sounds fancy, but it’s really not. Since I am still new at this, this requires ‘showing my math’ to my bosses and getting it all approved before I actually ‘do the work’. I spent an hour putting together the release. Only to have every piece of it scrutinized. I understand I am new at this. And it requires knowing what we have on hand, what we need, and what still needs to be released. And converting it from kg to lbs. All of it math, none of it rocket science (and I took Astronomy so I know what rocket science is). But because my bosses have done this before, they still insist on picking it apart. Double checking is good. I agree that it’s a good idea given the cost of the material. But to redo all the math, ask again how I came up with xxx amount, then agree that I did it ‘right’, is insulting. And time consuming. It took an hour longer than it should have. And hour I could have been working on my ‘normal’ daily activities.

I am in Chaska on Tuesdays. There is a production meeting that I attend and I spend the day counting and putting out inventory fires. Or finding them. $5,000 inventory fires that I checked 3 times and still have no answers for. $5,000 worth of inventory that was there at the start of the month. $5,000 worth of inventory that is technically not ours, buts on consignment for one of our customers. Not to mention fires that include a new system that is not entirely similar to the old system leaving cycle counts that cannot always be finished in one day with the report written immediately that afternoon.

I was asked to complete a project last week with no real instructions as to what I really had to do. I figured it out and emailed to make sure it was really what was expected of me and was told yes. I took the project home to ‘do the math’ so I could just enter it the next day. I thought that was all I had to do. Took me maybe an hour and I emailed it was done and thought that was the end of it. turns out there was a whole second part that needed to be updated as well, however it wasn’t as critical so no one thought to make sure I knew that part too. I was asked on Wednesday if I had finished with the second part. Well, no Mr. Boss, I didn’t realize that was a part of it. Let me work on that. Turns out, that was the longer and much more time consuming part of the project. So I spent 3 hours finishing that project. While being asked why report #1 wasn’t finished, where was #2, and when would I be done with #3. I was ready to cry I was so frustrated.

Thursday was maybe the worst so far. And the day with the least interruptions. But it didn’t feel like it helped. To start the day, my alarm went off at 7am like it was set to. The problem, it went off at 7am Central STANDARD Time. I must not have corrected the date on my clock and it switched to CST this morning instead of on Sunday morning. I was awake, dressed, made up, and walked the dog in less than 30 mins. Probably a record for me. I was unfortunately 40 mins late to work. it was a continuation of please make sure to get the extra things done, but where is the stuff you were supposed to have done last week. constant check in and reminders that the reports they requested last week were not done. could I please finish those today? what do you say to that? ‘No sorry, I think I am going to sit on my butt and play solitaire today.’ at least the problems I was expected to handle were less than they had been all week. less fire is good. I actually got to work on some of those reports. And low and behold, I got two done.

My plan today was simply to ignore everyone. The phone, the email, everything. Today I am going to get crap done damn it! that worked for maybe an hour or 2. It’s hard to ignore the person physically standing in my office. ‘Outside customer wants his order NOW. Why I haven’t even ordered their labels?’ Well, they need to have them approved by their Regulatory body first because I will NOT order them until they are. The fines can be extreme for mislabeled product. And since we are actually adhering the label to the bottle, it’s our responsibility to make sure they are correct. At least if they sign them, we can point the finger and say we had their Regulatory body’s permission. [AKA: it wouldn’t be my fault. Customers are great and all (except maybe this particular customer, they are a pain), but I am not willing to put my job on the line and cut corners for their convenience.] ‘Oh, I guess that makes sense. Can you ask them where they are with that?’ Sure. I have emailed them 2 times this week with no response. I have nothing else to do. Of course I will call them/email them yet again. NOT. Thankfully the finally emailed the approved label to me. They were holding up the process, but somehow it will still be my fault. I did finally get the first part needed to the last report I need to get out. still have to write the report, but I have a half hour to pull that off. Won’t be spectacular, but it will be DONE!

I had my one year review last Friday. One of the things I mentioned that I felt I should be better managing my time. I felt I hadn’t done as great of a job with that last year. There were a lot of days I felt like I didn’t get anything done. there were a lot of things that were not done on time. There were labels that were not in house in time for production. Whether or not that was my fault, it was my responsibility because it’s my job. I have been hyper aware of time management since. (My boss actually disagreed with me on that point. He said that he felt I did fine considering how much we actually got done and delays were inevitable.) This week I have made lists of what I wanted to get done each day to try and keep up with the flow of work. I have gotten 2 things on those 4 lists done so far this week. It has not been a good feeling to have to include yesterday’s list on today’s list. It’s a pretty long list at this point. I feel like I have really failed this week. it’s not entirely my fault. I have taken work home to try and catch up. I am frustrated. Close to tears. Stressed out. And extremely over caffeinated as a result.

But maybe I am looking at those lists wrong. Perhaps I should be creating a list of what I did get done every day. That list is a better curser to what was accomplished this week. there is still work outstanding. There is a lot that needs to be completed before next week’s responsibilities settle in. but I did do a lot this week. that list of what I finished that I didn’t know I had to do certainly outweighs the list of what I wanted to get done. I was so frustrated the other day, I refused to work when I got home. I walked the dog, made dinner, watched a little tv, and hung things on my very bare walls. I have a list of things I would like to have done in my house. There is a time line on some, but not on most. Hanging pictures was not on my list. But it got done. granted there are no pictures in them, but they are on the wall to remind me to put pictures in them. The hard part is done. I feel like I accomplished more this week by putting a few holes in the wall, than in 40 hours worth of work. it’s hard to retrain myself to look at the success of this week, and not the failure. I will eventually get everything done. it wasn’t on the time line set forth, but it will get done. in the mean time, I still finished a lot of things that I started. Maybe it’s the joy of the weekend being almost here. Or the relief that this week is over, but I am starting to feel better. I just have to keep saying ‘I was successful this week’. I can’t let the week beat me. there will always be another week with another list. Maybe it’s God’s way of reminding us there is always a chance to try again. Next week is still a new slate. So I am already ahead of the game. How was your week?

MGK Mondays

on a tuesday! why? because i am trying to kill time before a glorious council meeting.

so it's halloween time at MGK. and like another other place where the receptionist inherited the job from someone who spends way too much time with ms living (that would be martha stewart. i don't say the name too often. it's like a swear word to me), of course there are tons of decorations to be put out. Jane has spent several days laying out the happy looking skulls (seriously, they are all smiling) and pumpkins, she decided we needing something more 'halloweeny". Jane was gifted a bag of plastic spiders. She put a few out, and then one of the Research and Development people took the rest of them and put them up for her. They are everywhere. it's become a game to see where they can hide them. there is one on the glass, one on the change return on the vending machine, one on the stairs...

now i have been gone from that office for several weeks. i have been spending a lot of time at our plant. so i have been having fun looking for all of them. i noticed something funny about a few. here is the conversation i had upon discovering these 'interesting' spiders:

Me: um...why are some of the spiders upside down?

R&D: because we make insecticide.

Me: ummm...ok.

R&D: we can't make people think we left them alive, that would be bad for business.

only at MGK!

I'm Alive...mostly

Back from the dead. Well kind of. I looked at my last post and couldn’t believe how long it’s been! Not to mention how much has happened. This summer was the craziest, busiest, most stressful 3 months I can remember. Not that it’s all been bad. Just insane.

Let’s start the week after my last post.

I bought my house. Signed the papers, gasped at the closing fees, and was handed the keys. Well in a way. I was actually handed a new lock set. But there were keys in the set. My realtor was also my friend. My mortgage broker is also my friend. They collectively made the whole process so much easier. They are amazing people. They bought me new locks as part of my housewarming gift. My realtor offered to come and install it (he took the old one out just before closing to try and have it rekeyed with no luck), but I already had a screwdriver in my hand. I can’t wait for them to come see the place now.

I have never been so excited. It’s all mine. 1500 sq feet. 3 bedrooms. 2 ½ baths. 3 floors. 2 car garage. Giant deck. It’s all mine. Holes in the wall. Bad painting job. Crumbling ceilings. Water damage. Pet stained carpet. Green shag carpet. Leaking toilets. I closed on April 30^th. I moved in sometime towards the end of June. We spent 2 months tearing down ceilings, sanding them, painting them flat. Tear down water damaged ceiling, repairing it, paying to have it refinished. Repairing walls. Sanding walls. Cleaning ducts and fireplace. Priming. Painting. Moving in appliances (brand new factory installed appliances). Tearing out green shag carpet. Priming. Priming. Priming. Painting. Painting. Painting. Painting. Tearing out a vanity. tearing apart a toilet. Removing wall paper. Repairing walls. Cleaning carpets. Cleaning carpets. Moving my belongings in. Inheriting a dog. Cleaning carpets. Cleaning the same carpets.

Then after moving in we have continued: Painting. Sanding walls. Priming. Painting. Tearing out linoleum. Scrapping industrial adhesive off cement floor from linoleum. Getting new furniture (2 chairs, couch, table and 4 chairs, deck chair and chaise, glass table, 4 chairs, planters, plants, desk, guest bed, night stand, book shelf, washer and dryer. I LOVE IKEA and my family.) It actually looks like a house.

And by ‘we’ I mean a lot of people. I have been truly blessed with some of the most amazing friends and family. 2 of my best friends have been there to help anytime I have said I needed it. And they bring their other halves too. I put out a mass call on day, and several people showed up. They have scrapped, repaired, torn down, primed, and painted like champs. I am so grateful to have them. I can’t imagine what it would be like to have gone through this without their help and willingness to be paid in food and pool time. And there was never any complaining. Just the question of what time they needed to be there and what they needed to bring. I love that about ‘my girls’. We are always there for each other. Nana helped clean and brought her truck to move stuff in. Nana also paid for appliances and brought her former deck set for my deck. My aunts and uncle helped some. It was a whole community worth of help.

And then of course there is my mom. She is my hero. She was on stand by when I closed with cleaning supplies and a car full of stuff. I called her on my way from the closing and she met me there with a huge smile on her face. She then helped me scrub the 18 months worth of abandonment dust, dirt, and grime out of the place. She has torn down ceilings, torn off wall paper, learned how to replace the innards of a toilet, primed, painted, made food, cleaned, scrapped, sanded, repaired, moved furniture, helped pick out colors and appliances, organized and unpacked, moved and assembled furniture, and been my all over support. She is my partner in home improvement crime. She has helped me do everything. And she has already committed to laying laminate flooring, wainscoting, installing my new sink, and tiling my laundry room. She says my house is the ‘test’ house. If it works well, then we can do it in her house once we get some practice. I love my mommy. She has even gone and sat at the house and done things while I am at work. Despite being in school and then getting laid off, she is still willing to spend her weekends with me in the ‘trenches’. She’s been my rock. She is amazing.

On top of all the fun house improving stuff, this summer was full of ‘fun’ activities. My ex called me out of the blue. We started talking. Turns out my suspicion about him and my friend (see Overreacting: The Break up Edition from March) were dead on. He told me on his own. She had flat out lied to me. He asked me not to say anything until he talked to her. I waited a week. Then I let her know what I thought. Our relationship will never be the same. Either one. Despite all their excuses, she lied when I asked her what was going on. She could have said a million things, but she turned it back on me asking how I could ask her such a thing. I also found out she used what I was saying to her to manipulate him. I still don’t trust her. They are adults and they can do what they want. But why lie when someone calls you on it, especially knowing there is a good chance that person will eventually find out the truth? I even gave her a few chances after I found out for her to tell me what really happened. She still didn’t say anything. Man, with friends like that….

I was elected to the River City Theatre Company’s Board of Directors as a technical consultant and historian. We picked out a show and decided on show dates of the end of September. In the course of the show, 3 board members quit leaving the 4 of us who were involved in the show to be the board. I am now the Vice Chairman, by default. I had agreed to be the Technical Director for the show. These last two paragraphs are related. This is where stress comes into play. I introduced the ex to a fellow board member, who is also one of my best friends. She introduced him to the board as a possible director. I personally didn’t have too many objections to him directing so I stayed out of the deciding process and voted with the majority. The board liked his resume. I have seen his work. I know he’s got the talent and kids really like him. I thought he would be a perfect fit. So I let them to the deciding and stayed out of it. They chose him and away the summer started.

The show started off fine. Then the costumer/board member/cast member found out she was pregnant. Then the stage manager/board member also found out she was pregnant. Let the hormones fly. Stage manager had to back off from some things because it was too much for her to handle with some of the complications she was experiencing. Step up the other (3) board members who were all also involved with the show (and one who was also pregnant). Lots of stress. Lots of reworking of schedules. Lots of time spent in Watertown (70 miles from home). Lots more work than it started out. And Ex and I didn’t get along professionally at all. He’s not a technician. He’s done some minor technical work, but even he admits he doesn’t know what he’s doing. He started to ask for things that were not within our budget or scope. He got snippy when I tried to suggest that something wasn’t going to work with the technical aspects of the show and space. He started to not tell me things. Important technical things. He figured I would just find out. Lots of snipping. Lots of snarky comments. A few nasty emails. We do not work well together at all. I almost quit. Lots of extra time to cater to him. Lots of time away from the house. All in all, maybe not the best choice getting him involved in ‘my world’. Especially this soon after everything blew up and then we started talking again.

And if those 2 things were not enough, I moved into my house one week, inherited my aunt’s dog a few days later, agreed to be the Tech Director for RCTC’s show the next week, and then the following week, the powers that be at church, fired our full time Director of Children’s Ministry. And politely dropped her job in my lap for a few weeks. Being the Council Chair for Children’s Ministry, it was my job to keep things moving along. I met with the powers that be a few days after all this happened. The summary of the subtext of that conversation was a little something like this: ‘we have no idea what you guys do down there, so we can’t really help you. Good luck. And if you need anything, you can ask, but we will probably have no clue what to do.’ Not only did they fire the Director (who happens to be a good friend of mine), they have no plan as to what to do after they did. And the first question I got from anyone was ‘what are your plans for Rally Sunday?’ Yeah, that was the most pressing thought on my mind. I had just been handed an additional 40 hour a week job that I wasn’t getting paid for on top of my actual 40 a week job, and my 20 hour a week volunteer theatre job. I laughed and told them my plans were to try and survive the day. I do have to say that I have some amazing committee members who stepped way up and really helped. By the time we hired an interim person, curriculum was done, trailguides were found, a major scheduling shift had occurred and been handled, and rally day was planned. We kicked butt. And of course got little to no recognition for any of it. The kids are enjoying themselves and having fun. So that’s recognition enough. Oh and former Director had been interviewing for other positions anyway. She was offered a much better job the following week!

So that was my ‘summer’. I am not sure what happened to any of it. The only plants that did well were the ones that were able to sustain themselves this summer. I killed a lot by not being there. I sat on my deck and enjoyed it 3 times. Got to my pool twice. The only time I saw people were if there were in the theatre or coming over to help with something with the house. I made it to Nana’s house only once. Another one of my best friends got married this Labor Day weekend. I only saw her during her dress fittings all summer. I left like a terrible bridesmaid. We did manage a pretty awesome shower/bbq. And she said she had a great time at her bachelorette party. And no they were not half thrown together. Her sister and I made sure to get those planned and done up right. I have 1400 emails to finish going through. About 1400 hours of sleep to catch up on. And many many blog entries to catch up on. I am so out of the loop. I am exhausted just proofing this entry. I have got to learn to say no. So I have not been ignoring people these last few months. I have not been ignoring this blog on purpose. I have simply been way too busy to stop and scribble a not to myself, let alone write anything else. So here is to hopefully more frequent blogging.

Much delayed update

The long overdue check in. Probably because there is not a whole lot to report. Allergies are making it very difficult to breathe. That means less activity so as to aggravate my lungs. Allergies inevitably turn into a head cold which means headaches and lots of coughing. It’s hard to stick to exercising when you are struggling to walk around at work. But being sick for me also means less eating. It’s no fun to eat something when you can’t even taste it. I know that’s probably why I stay sick for so long, but I just don’t feel like eating. I have not been as careful about what I eat either. I seem to have found myself busy again so dinners out are becoming common place again. That doesn’t make my scale nor my wallet happy. I still try to bring lunch to work, but have settled for the pre-processed food, though I do not eat anything that is not weightwatchers or healthy choice as the preservative/fat/salt content of anything else is so high I feel a heart attack coming on just reading the labels! So all in all, I have gone up and down for the last 2.5 weeks in weight, but over all remain pretty much exactly the same as before I got sick: 9 lbs down with a whopping 20 to go. I know I have several months, but I was hoping to be a little further along with the wedding in September.
I feel a deflated about the numbers not changing. I could have done more. I should have at least kept up on my sit ups and pushups; but again, that’s hard to do when you keep coughing…however it’s not impossible. I guess the positive way to looking at that is at least it was exercise in some form :-p. But I am on the mend and NEED to get my tush in gear. 5k challenge must be started in earnest this week. And I expect my few readers here to call me out on it if I don’t post at least some moderate success next Monday!

Another reason has cropped up to make sure to start an exercise program like the Couch to 5k program. I have very high cholesterol. My LDL has clocked in at 290 on its own. About 3x what is considered safe! And even with an HDL that is also very high, usually around 70, it’s not anywhere near enough to offset the dangerous level of LDL. Ok so that’s nothing new. What is new if the dose of Lipitor I am on. 40 mg per day is considered aggressive treatment. Not the 80 mg we could go, but high enough for me to have to be pretty in tuned with my body because of the risks associated with the dose. I don’t like altering the chemicals in my body artificially. I don’t even like taking allergy pills. But this was necessary since my LDL is caused by genetics and not the foods I eat and diet and exercise did nothing, and I mean didn’t even prevent it from going up, to help. So pills it is. I tried the generic Simvastatin. Failed. Which I hear is not surprising, but it takes a whole year before then can determine if it really is a failure. Next we move to actual Lipitor, $165.00 a month, ouch. [SOAP BOX: Pfizer should be ashamed of how much they STILL charge for this drug knowing it’s coming off patent. They actually paid off a company who was starting to formulate this drug so it could be available at a fraction of the price right after the patent expires next year. Therefore it will be at least 18 months after he patent expires before we will see any sort of generic, providing the patents isn’t extended AGAIN. Research my butt, it’s the $11.4 billion a year for the stock holders they are interested in. Getting off soap box now.]

Any who, I started off at 20 mg. Not aggressive enough. So we moved to 40mg. Now I have had the random minor side effects to the other drugs and doses; mainly the heartburn. I ate Tums and Pepsid like candy. The 20mg didn’t seem too bad. The 40mg is killer. The minor: very bad heartburn if I eat within 2 hours of taking the pill. And worst: the muscle pain and weakness and joint pain. This can be a serious sign that very bad things are happening. And to top it off, with my Vitamin D levels being so low, this is also the side effects if the mega doses I took didn’t work. I am playing a very delicate game of which one is causing this. Lipitor means the drugs are too strong, but we don’t want to dose off of them just yet because they are working so well (down to 190. Very high, but at least on the charts finally!). But it could also be the sign that my kidneys are in trouble (producing enzymes that break down muscle tissue). The diagnosis is to keep a very close eye on it. If it’s the Vitamin D not working, it can be a sign that the mega supplements weren’t enough and my calcium levels are still dangerously low. My body may still not be absorbing what it needs and the muscles and bones are breaking down. The diagnosis is to keep a very close eye on it. I don’t like the options presented to me. I can take all the Advil in the world, but it’s starting to affect even the simple things like walking up stairs. So the suggestion: try an exercise program that starts slow and build up to allow my muscles and bones to build strength slowly. This should alleviate the pain from the muscles being weak, but should prevent splints and breaking if it’s the lack of calcium causing it. I am not scheduled for more blood work for a few months, so unless something goes wrong, this is the only actual solution offered to me. And one that my health care provider strongly suggests. She was excited to hear I was setting the goal of running a 5k. She has suggested being very aware of how my body reacts and to take it nice and slow and not push it. So I have found yet another reason why this should be a very real priority in my life.

What I seem to lack though, is accountability. Being in constant physical pain is certainly a motivator. But it’s not a guarantee that the pain is going to go away. In fact, at first it will be worse. I know it has to be done, but I have no one to really kick me in the rear if I don’t actually do any of this. Sure LutheranGeek will be disappointed. But there is no one to yell at me for slacking. So I am giving anyone who reads this permission to call me out on the carpet if I start slacking. And you only need one phrase: you let me down. Because I promise I will have already made a million excuses as to why I didn’t do it. It will remind me none of them are good enough, especially if other people are challenging themselves and we agreed to do it together. So…Feel free to scorn me if a post is not made by Tuesday afternoon about this week’s activities. I look forward to NOT reading them :)

The Big Picture

This is not what I dreamed my life would look like. Somehow it’s more than I ever knew to dream for.

That’s not to say ‘all my dreams have come true.’ They are still a few left to realize. Reality is just more than I knew what to hope for. I stand on a path I would not have chosen then I started, but the joy that I now look at, has made the journey more meaningful.

Not every bump has worth. Most were the result of the choices I made with consequences less than I desired. There is not always worth in things that bring one pain, anger, or humiliation. But there are always lessons in those bumps if one slows down long enough to be taught. Things that can be applied as the path leads on, to avoid future bumps. Some bumps are bigger than others. But I have surprised myself with how few still stick out. There are even a few that I take some pride in. Those are the bumps that have been worth it.

But right now, I am not thinking about those bumps from the past. I am only thinking about a few that may lie ahead and how I can prepare for them. I am thinking of these bumps with excitement. I know they will be there. I know there will be much to learn from them. But these bumps mean something amazing has happened for them to be a possibility.

I’m not trying to sound as cliché as I think I am being. I have certainly not been wandering lost through a deep dark wood. The path has been taking more twists and turns, and there has been more shade than I would like. But the beauty of shade: you can always still see the light. It was always there guiding me, I just had to press on to get to it. I never dreamed this path would be straight; just maybe that I would be able to anticipate more of the twists and see more of the turns before they actually happened. I like to plan things out. I like to know where I am going and when. I like to be in control. I don’t like the unexpected. It knots my stomach like a pretzel. I get disoriented and disgruntled. I try to handle it as best as I can, taking as few casualties as possible. Grinning and bearing it is an art form for me, one I try hard to paint. I think this is why things seem to be better than I knew to dream.

Every little girl has a dream about what they want their future to look like. It’s always been hard to reconcile when something in that dream had to change for me. I have always been driven to see it all come true exactly as I imagined it. I have always been a planner. This is why it’s so funny that I am never on time. Sometimes I am too busy planning it out, that it never gets done. But for me, there always comes a time when the dream and reality must be weighed.
At this point in my life I dreamed I would be married and at least planning (see, that word again) on starting a family. I dreamed on a home with a yard and of course a dog. I dreamed of a good job I enjoy doing making a wage to make the rest of the dream possible. I dreamed I would have a partner who would share my ups and downs. A partner who would share in the emotional and financial responsibility of this dream. A nice rosy picture huh? The further I journey, the more this ‘dream’ no longer sounds ideal. This ‘dream’ is so not there I am.

So what is my reality? My reality is that I have, by societal standards, failed at the relationship part. Lots could (and have) been said about the only two long term, emotionally mature relationships I have been in. But to me fail is a strong word. I haven’t failed. They may not have made it to my reality, but each of them has lead to a greater understanding of who I am and how I function in a relationship. I have learned that sometimes you grown in different directions than your partner and ultimately the relationship must end for the health of both people involved. That is not necessarily anyone’s fault. The failure comes when you fail to recognize it and you cease to grow. My reality is that I am surrounded by people who love me. Friends and family who emotionally support me daily and will always be available to help lessen the burdens. I have people who share and empathize with my ups and downs, and let me share in theirs. I don’t need to be attached to any one person to find that reality.

My reality is that I have no children. I am not planning on having children anytime in the immediate future nor to I anticipate that to change for quite some time. My reality is that I don’t need to give birth to have children or for my life to have meaning to a child. I volunteer with children and youth on a weekly basis. They remember my name. They smile and greet me when they see me; even when in public. I know I have made a connection. That makes me feel good. I have a niece that thinks the world of me, and I would do anything for her. I have a godchild that I get to spoil and love. I get to watch them grow and forever be a part of them. My friends have children. I get to love and play with them. I get to care for and about them without having to spend the sleepless nights. And I have a responsibility to live my life with dignity for each of them. They are my reminders to strive to be a better person. My life is surrounded by children. I get to be a role model without ever having to give birth.

My reality is I don’t own a dog, but I do have a dog. My sister came home with a cute, fuzzy little puppy (who was born 8 years ago today!) one summer day. The now 70 lbs, medium size dog has become the family dog. We are collectively her pack. She is a full member of the family with all rights there contained. She instinctively protects all of us, as we do her. She whines and wiggles at the top of the stairs when each of us walks through the door. Her needs are always considered when making decisions for the family. And in return, she loves out without conditions. There is something wonderful about the love of a dog. The unwavering trust. They joy at seeing you no matter the amount of time you have been away. It doesn’t matter I physically live with her or not, I am a part of Sammi’s pack. She is my dog.

My reality is that I don’t down a single family house with a cute little yard and a white picket fence (a little too Martha Stewart anyway). But soon, I will own my own house. And it will be my name on the mortgage. And only mine. I didn’t need someone else to make this a part of my reality. I did it on my own. I get the joy of painting the rooms the colors that I like. I get to pick out the flooring. I get to make the repairs, replace appliances, scrape popcorn off the ceilings, and keep things running smoothly. I am the only one I have to please with my choices. I never thought I would be able to do this on my own. It’s a huge responsibility, and a vast source of joy.

My reality is that I work for a company I can be proud to be a part of. I have co-workers who are helpful and willing to share their experience with me. I have the financial resources to make sure I can still dream. But most importantly, I have a job I enjoy going to. I am doing something worthwhile and have the support of those around me. I have been set up so that success if the only option. I may not be doing the work of my dreams, but I am working for the company of my dreams.

My reality is: I am happy.

My reality is only an alteration of my dreams. The elements all exist, just in a different way. I don’t need a partner for love and suport, I am surrounded by people who love me. I don’t need biological children, I have a vast number in my life already. I don’t need a big house with a big yard; I have a townhouse with a huge deck. I didn’t know to dream for any of this. It’s where the path has lead me. Those twists, turns, and bumps have lead to me to a place full of joy. I am prepared to handle the next leg of the journey. My patience and perseverance has been rewarded. And there are so many people to thank. I am grateful I don’t have to try and do it all alone.

I am not normally an openly optimistic person. Cautiously optimistic at best. But the need to slow down and do a reality check has been great. There have been so many changes in the last few months, with so many more on the way. Reflection and perspective are needed. I have had to let go of a lot and embrace so much. I like where I am. This is not what I would have thought happiness looked like. This is so different than I had hoped for, yet I can’t help but smile when I think of it all. I feel ready to tackle the next few dreams. I have opened my mind to the possibility that change isn’t always bad. Change is a better catalyst than planning. Losing control doesn’t mean having to give up, it means going with the flow until I find a better foothold. I still marvel over how everything is different, but still somehow where I wanted to be. This dream is far more than I knew it could be.

The post I couldn't post :)

i am ready to share this post. i wrote it back in the beginning of april. april 8th i believe. i have been hanging on to it until the time felt right.

The post I can’t post. At least not yet. Not until a few more things are worked out. Not until I have told a few people. Not until the papers are signed and the inspection is complete and the all clear is given. Not until I pinch myself a few more times to see if this is real. I am writing this now, but I can’t post it until later. I just became a home owner. Well, I just found out there is a very real possibility that I will be a home owner in the next few weeks.

This has been the longest process I have ever experienced. If someone told me 2 years ago that this would take 22 months, with 4 different price points, and seriously about 60 homes, I would have told them they were crazy. It was 24 ½ months since I gave up my apartment in Minneapolis to buy a house with the man I thought I was destined to spend the rest of my life with. I packed up everything I owned and moved it all to his father’s basement to wait until we found a place of our own. Between moving and prequalifying, his losing his job, finding a new job, losing that job, finding yet another with a lot less pay involved, then me losing mine, being told to move out of his father’s house by him, me finding awesome job, and moving my belongings to my mother’s garage: all my earthly possessions, save my clothes, my bed, a few books, and my plants, have been in storage for 24 months. I am not even sure what I own any more. And it might finally all be coming out of storage to be gone through and decided what is really important and what is no longer needed.

This is not how I thought this would end. I honestly thought we would be doing this together. That this was the first real big step that we needed to make to declare our intentions to be together until death did us part. I thought we would be partners in this whole process. When I started looking again on my own a few months ago, it was still for us. A place where we didn’t have to live with anyone else. Where we could make our own rules. Where we would be forced to make it work because we were in this together. But also a place he didn’t feel he needed to stress about financially. And if he didn’t want to move in with me right away, he didn’t have to. I never thought I would be doing this on my own. This was not what I had in mind. Yet somehow, it makes the accomplishment that much more. I did do it on my own. I was the one who went and looked at this place. My mom saw a few of the others, but not this one. I was the one who decided what to offer. I was the one who wrote the check. I don’t have to share this with anyone. (Ok so I am actually getting the down payment as a gift from family, but I still have to pay the earnest money and inspection fees, ect.) I feel like I have actually grown up. At least I have taken a giant step towards being a full fledged adult.

I am scared to death. I know logically I can afford it. But how in the world and I going to pay for it? The thoughts of a second job are already floating in my mind. I can make it, but there is going to be little cushion. What happens if something goes wrong? Although this does mean I can officially change my tax status to 1. Because I am a homeowner. That’s going to take some getting used to. I don’t need to worry about panicking when I see the papers, I am already.

This is mine. It will be my house. I don’t have to accommodate anyone but myself. I get to be that fiercely independent person I have always been. I wonder if that will really be a good thing. Being so stubbornly independent is what got me where I am today…but it’s also what’s gotten me where I am today. It’s made me successful in my career, if that’s what I can call it. But it’s also led to the demise of my personal relationships. I will one day find someone who will admire that. I know that. And maybe this will actually help me let go a little since nothing ever works out the way one expects when you own your own place. Perhaps this will teach me about perspective. Perhaps this will encourage me to not take everything so seriously.

This means I will not be moving to Arizona. Katie wants me to. I want to be near Katie. I will just have to visit more often. Yes it was a serious consideration. After everything else that’s gone on here, the idea of packing up and starting over somewhere else, sounded oddly comforting. The chance to start over fresh with only a few people who knew who I was or what I was about had a very real draw to it. We might have to see how things pan out. It’s only 2 years until I can sell right? And by then things should have turned around, right? With this as an investment, who knows what it could be worth in a few years? But for now I am staying in Minnesota. I am staying at MGK. But it doesn’t mean I might finally be able to go back to school without worrying about a student loan messing things up.

Allie is sleeping in my bed tonight. I look at her and think this is going to be a rarity from now on. She will have to come over for special sleepovers, but she will not just crawl into my bed because she is scared, or cold, or just wants to be near Auntee Mollee. I am thankful to have her to cuddle up to as I ponder all of this tonight. My mom is in her bed. Soon she will have her room back. She can buy the kitchen table she wants. She can fully enjoy her new home. She has been inconvenienced by him and his selfish decisions too. It was her new house; she shouldn’t have had to make the sacrifices she has. I am thankful I am able to stay here, but it’s time for me to move on. It’s time for her to stretch out and relax in her room and not have to worry about keeping me up. I haven’t told her yet. I still need time to ponder what this will mean. It’s the next big chapter for me. I am scared, and nervous, and excited all at the same time. I want to process this in my own way. I am a bit fatalistic. This could still not happen. We are ‘fast tracking’ this. I could close in 2 or 3 weeks if all works out. It’s going to move fast, especially once everyone knows. Then it’s real. Then I have to start planning. There are appliances that need to be purchased. Painting and repairing that need to be done. Carpets that need to be cleaned. Inspections to pass. Loans to be authorized. And once everyone knows, everyone will want to help. I am imagining the whirlwind now. I want a night for this to be mine. For my heart only. Hence sitting here typing away on the computer.

I am not sure what I will do if this doesn’t work out. I really don’t want to start all over again. This process has been very long and very tiring. There are only so many houses to look at. There is a very logical part of me that says this isn’t over until the papers are signed and the keys are in my hand. There is a part of me telling me not to get too excited yet. There are still a few unknowns. Maybe they didn’t really accept my offer. Maybe this isn’t my stop on the real estate train. But there is a small part of me ready to burst with excitement. That wants to shout it to whoever will hear it: I just might be a new homeowner. All by myself. I just bought my first home!ho