brain teaser

whenever i'm told NOT to do something, i find myself inclined to not only continue doing it, but to do it more.  for example, my dentist told me a few checkups ago that she thinks i have a tendency to touch the back of my front teeth with the tip of my tongue, causing them to slightly jut out.  fearing the development of an overbite, i must have spent the next 6 months trying to avoid tapping the back of my teeth, but only found myself more conscious of doing it.  this sometimes prompted me to "accidentally" make the very gesture i was trying so hard to break.

i think that once a mindless action registers in the brain, the makeup changes, and suddenly, you can't stop thinking about it.

even now as i'm writing this, my dang tongue can't seem to leave my teeth alone.

hailed

the looming forecast of snow for friday reminds me of the intense, swift-moving hailstorm i drove into on my way home last week.  i was a few miles from our development when it suddenly went dark overhead, flashes of lightning illuminating the sky, turning it odd shades of pink, blue, and purple.  then the thunder came.  it clapped so loudly that my breath caught in my throat and i held it in anticipation.  rain started pouring down in fury, banging against my car like rocks until i realized they were actually hailstones.

what i recall about this moment was the feeling of pure and utter dread.  the slapping thunder and blinding lightning were practically in unison, causing me to feel the closeness of danger and the illogical fear of being struck.  it was then that i thought there are much bigger forces at work here, bigger than me, my car, the road, the sky.  the only thing that could make me feel an emotion somewhere between frightened and awe-struck is an inexplicable power from beyond.

true power is not manifested until it is recognized.

homework

staying home in bed on a weekday is not as glamorous as it sounds.  first of all, everyone you know is at work, and secondly, the only thing on daytime TV are soap operas and courtroom dramas.  i found myself flipping through the channels, hoping for something tolerable, something that required minimal brain power and could relax me at the same time.

that brings me to my next point about how hard it is for me to be home.  my mind never stops.  i'll spend most of my morning checking and responding to e-mails, and even when i tell myself to sign off, i'll usually be signing on later to catch up.  i'll mentally check off a list of things i need to do, and then panic at how i could possibly get it all done, now that i'll be "short" 8 hours in the office.  by the end of the day, in my quest to take it easy, sometimes i may end up more stressed than when it first started!

i read in a book once that it is difficult for americans to truly unwind, even while on vacation.  the brain is always running, churning with thoughts of deadlines and projects and meetings.  am i going to wake up one day and question how my life whizzed right by me, and all i have to show for it is a long and "rewarding" career?  there's much more to it than that, isn't there?

lesson of the day: when at home, be at home.

a patient patient

an emergency room is a strange community.  it is a place where people from all walks of life congregate, the young and the old, parents and children alike.  it does not discriminate across race or gender, only categorizes those who are sick and others who are sicker, grading the pain, as if you could measure a hip replacement that has popped out of its socket, a ruptured appendix, or broken bones.  and then there is me -- walking in on my own 2 legs, feeling remarkably healthy in comparison.

the wait through registration and triage and whatever step that is between triage and the next available room is not only frustrating and intensely boring, but a test of wills -- the will to be helped, to be told you're okay flush up against the will to run home immediately, to a dark room that doesn't smell antiseptic or synthetic, to a chair you can sink into rather than a stiff, industrial one bolted to the one next to it.

and then there is observation.  it's significantly quieter than the waiting room, the hustle and bustle now coming from the wheels of carts holding laptops and supplies, sneakers on the floors, insurance registrars and nurses and lab technicians and doctors rather than the cries and groans from potential patients on all sides.  here, you have your own bed (aka 'litter') surrounded by 3 walls and a curtain, and it almost, nearly feels like sitting in front of your TV set in the family room, except you're not, and the voices you hear are real.

somehow between the initial exam and various bouts of poking and prodding, it has now been almost 7 hours from the time you first stepped in line and the results you are awaiting, your stomach an empty hole (save for the bag of potato chips you shared with your husband after realizing it's either vending machine or gnawing hunger), the backless gown feeling big enough to drown in.  you begin to wonder which part of you will win this battle, still ready to bolt, watching your husband's tired eyes in the chair beside you, but grounded to this bed and room, sticking around to hear the news.  and you are wiped out too, wondering how or why we as people constantly take our bodies for granted, pushing through the minor aches and pains, lack of sleep, awful diets, and that big, loaded word -- STRESS -- until something alarming happens and we suddenly become fragile.  fragile and weary and scared, willing to wait, willing to go the distance just to hear 5 magical words: "you're going to be okay."

updated: ~1:30 a.m.

draw the line

tonight we had dinner with friends who i haven't seen in probably close to 3 years.  we used to all work at the same place and have kept in touch here and there but couldn't ever get our schedules together.  the conversations were easy and carefree and we had a nice time.

when i look back over the years, the people who are still in my life sometimes surprise me.  people who i always thought i'd be close to have faded away and some that i didn't expect would stick around, have.  those that i stopped speaking to also didn't make any effort to contact me, and that was just the natural progression and cessation of our relationships; no hard feelings or fall outs, only quite simply, the end.  as i've gone through changes in status (marriage), locations (moves), and jobs, my friendships have evolved too.

a girlfriend of mine recently was struggling with issues that all seemed to stem back to her choice of friends.  she told me that she felt used and abused in her relationships and wasn't sure why she even put up with it.  i told her the most efficient way to deal with her problem would be to draw a line, one half including her and the other not -- and then sit down and decide who she would want on her side and who she could bear living without.  i know it is easier said than done, but once she jumped over the initial hurdle, she would see the finish line.  take it from someone who's been there.

several years ago, i was stuck between a number of friends who treated me like dirt until one day, i decided to change it.  since then i've been picky with who i consort with and it has really given me peace of mind.  like i told my girlfriend, i am more content having a few amazing, wonderful friends than a ton of not-so-great ones.

and for the ones who i've chosen and who have also chosen me, who make the effort and reciprocate, our relationships will continue to develop and mature in value.

good fortune

today at the arcade, i played the 'wheel of fortune' game (of course) and lucked out on a good spin for 200 points and guessed 4 letters right.  even though i couldn't solve the puzzle, i won 800 tickets!  the machine kept spitting them out and the hubbie and i ended up with a small crowd of onlookers and both of our hands full.

i used to say that i never won anything until i met my husband.  he's my lucky charm.  technically, it's true, but i was always timid and apprehensive before, willing to sit on the sidelines while i'd watch someone else step up to the plate.  he has been my #1 fan, my coach, my cheerleader, and given me what i didn't know i could possess: courage.  confidence.  hope.

he's given me the belief that i have a chance.  without that, i wouldn't take the shot.  and you can't win if you're not in.

curveball

after a few conversations at work today, i noticed that the general theme of our chats is that life doesn't turn out as planned.  you can assume that spring has made it's official debut but then find yourself amidst a hailstorm.  you can expect that your parents will be around tomorrow, just as they are today, but that's not how it always works.  your educational and career aspirations can change, whether it's switching majors in college or sticking with it but landing in a different field or industry entirely.  we discussed our thoughts on being working moms vs. staying at home with the kids and how our views (and those of others) have morphed as the years go by.  we even agreed that it's nearly impossible to keep to a set schedule at the office because requests will come in, patients will call, surveyors will show up, and the list will continue to reinvent and append to itself.

how many times have i heard people say, "that's life," in response to adversity or hardship, or simply when things don't go the way they intended them to?  i used to think this was somewhat of a dopey expression until i realized it's just a way of stating the obvious, laying out the facts.  you could be walking along a path -- steady, peaceful, careful -- then turn the corner and smack face-first into a wall, a roadblock you hadn't seen or anticipated would be there. and then what can you say to justify it?

that's life. 

and we get up, recover, steer back on course, keep trekking along.

yes, life does not always turn out as planned.  but it doesn't mean we should stop planning.

words with friends

term of the day: onion snow.

a couple days ago, when we were anticipating a spring snow, 2 of my coworkers used this term in conversations so i had to look it up.

per dictionary.com:

–noun Chiefly Pennsylvania.

a snowfall in late spring; the last snow of the season.

my coworker explained that the expression probably originated from the fact that onions can be planted in early spring and may get snowed on with a late snow.  hence, onion snow.

who knew?  i love learning about local colloquialisms.  (try to say that 3 times fast)!

quote from a dame

quote of the day: 

"I call upon you to draw from the depths of your being — to prove that we are a human race, to prove that our love outweighs our need to hate, that our compassion is more compelling than our need to blame." 

-- In memory of Elizabeth Taylor, February 27, 1932 – March 23, 2011 (spoken from the dame herself in 1993)

pass it on

have you ever hung on to something purely for the sake of sentimentality?

i do all the time.  back when my husband and i first started dating, i had a large, clear vase that served as our "memories bucket."  i began dropping in ticket stubs from our first, second, third, etc. movie, and soon added remnants from shows, games, and vacations.  it wasn't long before the container was filled with dried petals from the first dozen roses he gave me, scraps of notes and messages, postcards and souvenir pennies from our road trips, beaded bracelets we had been "tricked" into buying while in the bahamas.

when we moved into our house, the vase became a box that eventually graduated to a drawer in my bedside table.  now it holds trinkets from our travels, soaps from the b&bs we've visited, valentine's day messages, cards.. it's already overflowing and difficult to close once opened.

there are so many things like these that accumulate over the years, and somehow feels as if it all happened overnight, almost like i didn't know i was collecting something until i realized i had a collection.  i used to wonder how we'd fill this house and now have days where i feel like i don't even know where to begin to tackle the clutter.  and why do we keep these possessions?  simply because we don't know how to say goodbye to them.

case in point: my parents kept my old bike for me in their garage long after i'd graduated high school and college.  last fall, they brought it over to our house where it ended up sitting on our porch for over 5 months.  while my in-laws were visiting last weekend, they asked me what i wanted to do with it since they had the bike rack set up on their car.  i hadn't even thought about it.  what did i want to do with it?  sure, it was a memento from my childhood (which is why my parents had kept it so long in the first place), but it would probably just continue to sit there on the porch, not being ridden, for i certainly wouldn't ride a turquoise/purple/hot pink bike fit for an elementary schooler around my neighborhood.  so i made a split-second decision to send it off with my father-in-law to see if there would be any takers at his workplace.

sure enough, his coworker approached him as he was unloading it and said her 10-year-old neighbor would enjoy the bike, especially since her family didn't have enough money to purchase one.

when my husband told me this, i was overcome with joy.  i remembered that the day my in-laws had carted off the bike, he had been asking me if i was okay with parting with it.  i shrugged, thinking someone could benefit from it, but finding out later that it actually had couldn't have felt more right.

as i grow older, i'm gradually learning the value of letting go of things.  yes, there are some i will probably never give up, like my memories bucket-turned box-turned drawer, but others that can (and probably should be) imparted to others.  consider this: what can you give today?

~update 3/24/11:
i was told when the girl received my bike, she was so happy that she cried.  i am overjoyed!

record of care

earlier today, i had to call my doctor's office to see if they had forwarded my records to another doctor i planned to see later this week.  instead of being helpful, the rude office clerk told me to call the other office to see if they'd received the records, claiming they had "no way of knowing if the records were sent."  when i called the other office, unsurprisingly, the records had not been received.  they offered to help move the process along by sending me a release form to complete and send to my doctor's office.  so i called my doctor's office again, only to be told that another company handled the releases so i had to call that company.  after being transferred, i was greeted by a discourteous employee who basically told me that the records were being processed but would not make it in time for my appointment, despite the fact i had sent the request off nearly 2 weeks ago.  this left me with no choice but to reschedule my appointment.

this whole incident left me frustrated because i deal with medical records and releases on a daily basis.  not only was i given sloppy excuses but was treated very poorly, save for the new doctor's office that i hope to switch to permanently.

just this past weekend, my in-laws and i were discussing customer service and how important it is, especially since it seems that whenever i am speaking with people in jobs with a strong customer service component, i'm wondering why they even bother!

what my doctor's office doesn't realize is that if the clerks just exercised some common courtesy and decency (i.e. answer phones politely, refrain from asking me to hold without waiting for a response, listen to the customer who happens to be me instead of rushing to hang up), they'd keep me as a patient.  but instead, i'll take my business elsewhere, thank you very much.

proofs

i take pictures of practically everything.  i usually carry my camera around in my purse for easy access.  whenever i don't have it with me, i'm typically wishing i did.

one of the earliest times i had a camera was probably in 7th grade.  i was in science olympiad and my team had won at state and we were going to tucson for nationals.  i'm pretty sure it was a disposable camera that i'd brought with me on the trip, and i still have the prints today.  since it was my first time going to arizona (and first time traveling without my parents), i clicked away at all we saw and did as keepsakes.

since i often borrowed my parents' camera, i received my first one sometime in high school.  it was a clunky grey box with a black plastic lens cover attached.  i remember my parents teaching me how to load and unload film in it.  once mastered on my own, i took pictures of our new house after we'd moved in the summer right before i entered 10th grade.  then i captured junior prom and track meets and sometimes after-school activities.  i snapped more throughout senior year, at my birthday party and the weeks leading up to graduation and of course, at both proms (old and new school) that i ended up attending.

the pictures and albums accrued as technology moved faster.  before long, i was playing with the black & white and sepia features or having my pictures developed onto CDs.  once the switchover to digital occurred, i was no longer limited by the cost of film and number of shots in a roll -- i could take pictures of everything.  and so, i did.

these days i will snap a photo of a pretty sunset or glowing moon or my cats sleeping in odd places or robins nesting in our holly bush.  i'll be outside in the middle of the night with camera in hand, trying to document an eclipse.  i'll stand on our front porch, shivering and fingers shaking, taking a picture of our white, untouched lawn the morning after a snowfall.  and one of my favorite "subjects" to photograph is food.  i'll be camera-ready just seconds after the waiter has set down my plate in front of me at a restaurant, or click a shot of one of my creations at home once i've carefully and properly plated it.

i've often been scolded in the past about taking too many pictures, that i should live in the moment rather than strive to get the perfect picture.  i understand that, but it doesn't stop me.  why?  because i have all of those memories i described above, a collection of snapshots frozen in time.  i've often sat down and been able to reminisce for hours, paging through boxes of albums, watching myself grow up, witnessing family dynamics, seeing my friendships change.  yes, i have memories up here (*tapping my temple), but the pictures are the proof.  and one day when my memory is fractured and faulty, hopefully the photographs can piece together my story.

tomorrow, tomorrow

i don't know if there's anything more frustrating than writing an entire post and losing it with the click of a button!

maybe when it happens 3 minutes before blog deadline??

sigh.

until tomorrow.. (which isn't too far from now anyway!)..

fair-weather friends

it seems that whenever the weather gets nicer, i suddenly become ms. popular.  and trust me, i'm not ms. popular.  my phone starts going off like crazy with texts asking me to hang out.  my e-mail box comes to life with invites to parties and double dates and movies and restaurant weeks and weddings and drinks.  spring not only breezes in with sunshine and birds and blooms, it brings with it friends who i haven't seen in months or all of winter, and sometimes even longer than that.

i was telling my sister-in-law about this phenomenon today and she called these people, "fair-weather friends," then added, "literally."

i guess that's okay because i'm happy to see them too.  there's a certain magnetic quality about the first signs of spring... it's intoxicating, and people want to share that, want to lure you in, want to soak you up in their sun.

violent silence

i'm an expert at the silent treatment.  it's not a skill i'm particularly proud of, but a skill nonetheless.

whenever i'm angry, instead of boiling over, i generally simmer beneath the surface.  like i've mentioned before, i'm unable to formulate the words i want to use to convey the feelings i want to express.  instead, i am mute, collecting my thoughts, simulating comebacks and shouting them in my head, sometimes wishing i could have said them but glad that i hadn't.

the longer i stay mad, the more times i've gone through the above scenario.  the cycle will repeat itself until i'm raging, fuming mad.

but i remain silent.  and the whole time my mind is on overdrive, my pulse racing, and i'm completely and utterly consumed with burning, irrational fury.

nobody would know this, except that i appear to be exceptionally quiet and remarkably apathetic; often unresponsive, but if i do reply it is with one-word answers in a flat voice and dismissive tone.

i can go about this for hours.  days.  sometimes, i don't even want to stay mad, but my pride gets in the way.  other times, i can't even remember what i'd been annoyed about or what had even started it all.

that's when i know i'm ready to let go.  it only takes a rueful look, soft word, or loving gesture and i crumble.  we hug it out and something lifts, like a burden released from my heart.

it is true what is said about how the person holding the grudge is the one who ends up hurt.

idling

as an 80-mile-per-day commuter, i am privy to some pretty unusual sights on the road.  i've often played the license plate game (there are some really obscure ones out there!), mused at interesting bumper stickers and signs, and marveled at curious debris in the road: whole bumpers, scraps of tires, random car parts, bags of unidentified material, tossed furniture, mysterious roadkill... and then there are the people.  the other day i saw a girl riding a horse across a highway overpass.  that was a rare spectacle though. 

usually, it's the abandoned cars that leave me guessing.  sometimes i will see the same disabled car haphazardly parked for weeks to months until it gets the boot, at which point it is really stuck.  occasionally, after a snow or rain day, i'll notice cars sitting at awkward angles, appearing to have gone off the road into ditches.  and then left there.

once, i saw a car that had "will you marry me?" scrawled on the rear windshield in large, red, questioning letters on the side of the road.  i passed the car every day for several weeks.  then i started to wonder what had happened to the couple.  had they eloped?  been kidnapped?  celebrated too much and gotten into some trouble?  had she said no and caused him to go off the deep end?  had she said yes but on one condition: to get rid of the car?  why in the world was it still there?

then one day, it was gone.  just like that the car had disappeared, without rhyme or reason, without a note explaining why.  it wasn't long before i started speculating the reasons.  the car had been towed away, unclaimed.  the guy had never gone through with the proposal and had finally pulled himself together to retrieve it.  he had been saving up gas money for the ring.  or my favorite one: they'd gotten married and honeymooned on a whim and now were back to start their lives together (and needed the car, of course)!

i guess being on the road can offer time to ponder useless questions that can not be answered; it can stretch a mind over miles and miles of hollow distance between home and a destination.

connected

facebook has an incredible way of connecting (and reconnecting) people.  it serves as a portal to an online presence unique to each person and their networks.  my "friends" list spans decades and generations, comprised of family, close friends, coworkers old and new, classmates from elementary school through college, neighbors, people i've gone to church with, prom with, dinners with, parties with, or on trips with.  people who held me as a baby, who i've grown up with, who i know as "aunties" and "uncles" or friends of the family.  or people that i've merely crossed paths with at some point, during some stage of my life.

it strikes me that facebook has also recently become a priceless tool for reuniting earthquake and tsunami survivors in japan with their families and vice versa.

who would have thunk it?  it began as a simple idea that amassed into this gigantic, spinning web of interlocking lives and shared experiences.

sometimes i think about these people who make up my list and am flooded with memories; fleeting encounters, isolated incidents, mutual moments that pattern and weave in and out and through my existence.

daylight delight

it is so nice to leave the office when it's still light outside!  (it really doesn't take much to make me happy).

that is all.

snuggle

our male cat is a sweetheart.  when we went to see him at the humane society, the employee there called him this but didn't completely register with me then.  now that we've had him for about 2 years, we've realized that's the most fitting word for him.  he is incredibly docile, mellow, and wouldn't hurt a fly.

after we first adopted him, he would often sneak into bed with me after lights out and rest his paws on the underside of my arm and nestle against my body.  i don't see how it could be comfortable for him at all, but he was content lying next to me.  it's a darling gesture and makes me happy, like saying, "hello there, i'm here."

yesterday i was feeling a bit down, and the little guy climbed in next to me to cuddle.  suddenly, everything was okay again.

i think the relationships we can develop with animals are dear; they take care of us just as much as we take care of them.

little blessings

today we visited my cousin to see her week-old baby boy.  there is something mesmerizing about a baby's face.  her little one would be sleeping peacefully or yawning or simply opening his eyes, but we would be transfixed on his every expression.  it amazes me how 2 people could create such a beautiful being, that somehow this tiny newborn's parents are responsible for his existence, and he is an equal piece of both of them.

thinking about it now, it's quite miraculous.  sometimes the best things in life come in small packages.

shaken

just yesterday my best friend had remarked, "isn't it weird how one day everything is fine and dandy and then boom! everything's a mess?"

those words couldn't have felt any more valid than they did this morning.  i switched on the news only to be stunned by the image i saw on the screen: ominous, murky tsunami waves rapidly moving a mile inland from japan's coastline, enveloping everything in sight, the result of a massive 8.9 earthquake that rocked the country overnight (our time).

strictly a coincidence, but i immediately thought of her words from the day before and how truthful they now sounded.

funny how that works, isn't it?

splash

while driving home today, i was slowly passing a car on the left when it hit a huge puddle and splashed my windshield.  for a few protracted seconds i was completely blind, unable to see through the darkness or rush of water.  holding my breath and gripping the steering wheel, i had no choice but to pilot forward and pray there were no obstructions in the road.

it scares me alittle when i feel like i've lost control over my surroundings.  i'm a nonstop planner, so not being able to "expect the unexpected" is disconcerting.  my husband constantly tells me that i can't possibly prepare for everything, that things happen regardless of how ready (or not) i am for them, and that sometimes i just need to let go.  let go?  me?  at times i don't even know what that means.

but sometimes, letting go is the best advice i could have.

brush strokes

my in-laws bought me an electric toothbrush 2 christmases ago and i've been using it ever since.  it is automatically set to brush for 2 minutes straight before it shuts off.  even though the timer doesn't change, i usually have to press the button again in the mornings (since i won't even be done with my bottom teeth) but at night the minutes seem to drag on and on.

sometimes i wonder why this is, especially because the brush is always on for the same amount of time.  how could 2 minutes pass by so quickly and at the same time, move so incredibly slow?  is it because i'm tired in the mornings, still waking up, sluggish with my movements?  does it feel prolonged at night because i'm wanting my bed and to be done with it, like a chore?

it's interesting that pockets of time, measured and unchanging, can vary by so much simply based on the situation.

tipping point

today is mardi gras, which evokes a memory from sophomore year in college.  my suitemates and i decided to check out the madness on south street and join in the festivities.  the night was crisp and cold enough for us to see our breaths in the air.  the street was so packed that at some points we were stopped, unable to move forward, our bodies jammed up against each other and random strangers (ahem, refer to my 'elbowroom' post).  there were sounds everywhere: raucous crowds spilling into the sidewalks from bars, the clicking of ridiculously high heels on the pavement from girls in ridiculously small outfits, drunken yelps and obnoxious singing (why do people tend to break out in song when they're drunk?), guys hooting and hollering and whistling through their teeth, and of course, the "show me your boobs/beads!" chanting.

despite the uncomfortable masses, the unwelcome groping from dirty old men, and the occasional flashing/streaking that we witnessed, we had fun.  that was, up until we heard bottles being thrown, glass in the street, and a couple of guys jumping on car hoods, some armed with bats, starting to wreck parked cars.  without convening or discussing what to do next, our group swiftly and deftly crossed the street to make a quick exit.  it was as if an unseen force was pushing us towards the el and the safety of our dorm.

later that night on the news, we found out that we had narrowly missed the riots of a good night turned ugly.  thank goodness, we thought.  we had made the right decision to walk away when we did.

how many times have i skirted the brink of disaster, sensing the sudden change in mood?  i can usually tell when a night is about to go south or turn sour.  it only takes one word or action that oversteps the line, and i'll feel the itch to put on my jacket, pay my tab, and bolt.  some nights i listen to that little voice inside and get lucky.  other times i ignore it and regret it later.  why didn't i leave when i had the chance?  i'll ask myself, over and over.

maybe i need to reorient myself to trust my own instincts.

sense offender

could you live in a world devoid of feeling?

i netflix'd the movie 'equilibrium' since my husband had never seen it.  the movie portrays a future of suppressed emotions, where art, books, and movies are banned, and strict enforcers punish "sense offenders" by death.  in order to survive, you would take a government-mandated, mood-inhibiting drug, and as a result be able to exist in a war-less, peaceful society.

knowing how it is to feel and touch, on both ends of the spectrum, it is hard for me to imagine conforming.  i would join the revolution.  a world without sensing is cold.  bare.  uniform.  dark.

one of the protagonists in the story asks christian bale's character, john, "why are you alive?"  and sadly, his answer sounds programmed, illegitimate.  she asks him what the point of his existence is and he retaliates by asking her that same question.  she responds by explaining the point of her existence is to feel, both the good and the bad, that it is as vital as breathing.  this exchange ends up changing his outlook and eventually, his life and his world.

so to answer my own question, could i live in a world without feeling, without breathing?  certainly not.

happy accidents

i have always believed in fate or destiny, that there is a predetermined, divine force at work.  the movie, 'the adjustment bureau' plays with the idea that a higher power called "the chairman" creates a "plan" for each person, and it is the job of the bureau to carry out that plan.  matt damon's character, david, accidentally catches a glimpse of the inside operation of the bureau and is then faced with a choice: follow the path laid out for him or fight for what he knows as free will, all in the name of love.

it is almost a mystical notion, but one that leaves you thinking long after you've left the theater.  what do we know of the decisions we make?  are they all part of an elaborate design written in ink?  if we start to stray off course, are there "adjustments" that are made to steer us back in the right direction?  what would we risk, what lengths would we go to, if we had a chance to stare fate in the face and didn't like what we saw?

these are probably questions i will never know the answers too, but are intriguing nonetheless.

sista sista

this afternoon we threw a surprise bridal shower for my sister.  the minute she walked in, i was hit with a pang so strong that it brought tears to my eyes.  it was at that moment i realized that my younger sister was getting married -- the same scrawny kid who would tag along in my gymnastics class, the tomboy who would always be running full speed ahead, the fashionista who would set the trends.  when did this girl become the woman i now know?  in that instance, i felt both joyful and proud.

as one of my mom's friends was leaving today, she remarked how "it is so nice to have sisters," and i couldn't agree more.

BFFs

in the middle of dinner tonight, my best friend remarked how nice it was to be able to have a good conversation over a meal together.  you'd think we would have more opportunities like that, but we don't.  we see each other as often as we can, but they are planned outings since we live about 60 miles apart.

it's funny that we didn't become closer friends until after graduation, even though we were in the same program for 2 years.  during that time, i lived in the city just a few blocks from where she was.  why didn't we carpool? i often ask her.  she says it's because i kept to myself at school and wasn't one for socializing.  she's right.

i remember the first time we met.  we were both in an anatomy class over the summer.  i had just transferred into the university so knew absolutely no one, and was still fairly shy and awkward.  during a break, i realized i had forgotten my cell phone to call my ride.  i walked to the payphone and discovered i had no change on me either.  i walked back into the lab and looked around.  there was a girl talking to a couple people but she looked nice enough.  i asked her if i could borrow some change for the phone, and she handed me her cell phone instead.  i remember thinking it was such a nice gesture from a stranger to a stranger.

she doesn't recall this incident even though i've recounted it over the years.

later, in the fall of junior year, i recognized her in my first class.  she sat behind me for most of the curriculum and we talked here and there, but our friendship didn't really develop until our accreditation exam and the CE classes following.  we also bonded, not surprisingly, over food.  fast forward a couple years, when i asked her for a very huge favor: to be in my bridal party.  and the rest is history.

people come and go in your life.  but those that stay leave impressions, big and small.  my advice?  savor the moments you have together -- whether it's sharing a simple dinner or having them stand next to you on your big day.

out of all of our memories, and there are many, meeting my best friend that day in the lab is still one of my favorites.

fitting

i can't remember if it was in high school or college, but in one of my classes my teacher had asked us to consider a regular work day.  did we see ourselves in a 9-5 conventional job as opposed to one that morphed all the time?  though i wasn't quite sure what i preferred back then, my classmates had easily pinned me.  they could see me in a familiar environment with a set schedule and "regular" day-to-day.  i couldn't disagree that that's what i had an affinity for, but i also wouldn't be okay being bored out of my mind.  i knew i needed something i could be passionate about but feel challenged by as well.  so did that mean i'd rather be in a rapidly-moving workplace?  i wasn't sure.

in a way, i sort of stumbled into healthcare, an industry that is ever evolving.  there are new regulations that pop up every day, updates to process, advances in technology.. and our role as professionals is to ensure compliance, follow protocols, and learn to not only welcome a new age but conform to its effects.  so i'm technically in a fast-paced atmosphere, but with a special set of skills that allows me to stick to a fairly traditional office setting.  who knew that i'd find my perfect career match without even knowing that's what i wanted?

funny how the pieces fall into place when we aren't looking for or expecting them to.

modified equation

i am not a person who is inherently comfortable with change.  i am resilient, but that is not the same thing.  if you muck up my routine, i will bounce back, but with all my i's dotted and t's crossed, of course.

i do believe that change is good.  and i can even manage it alright.  but if i don't have ample time to prepare and process it, you'll find me a bit unsettled.

unsettled glo = stressed glo, and stressed glo ≠ fun.

niceties

two weeks ago, when i was rushing out of the office to make my v-day dinner on time, i stopped when i saw a volunteer at the copier with a distraught expression on her face.  she was attempting to make 2-sided copies but they had come out with just the first side copied, so was trying to figure out how to copy page 2 on the backside.  after a bit of trial and error on my part, we were successful (and managed only to waste 2 sheets of paper rather than the entire pile).  she thanked me profusely and the beaming look she gave me was all i needed to realize that those few minutes were well worth being later than i already was.

i had seen this volunteer around the office and spoken to her a few times, but even now i still don't know her name.

how often do we stop to help a stranger?  i would like to believe that it is commonplace and people do all the time.  yet my husband has said before that he thinks i am somewhat of an exception.

when i interviewed for my first full-time job, after a rigorous interview session, the poker-faced manager said she would walk me down.  as we stepped into the elevator, i was convinced that i didn't get the job.  then from behind, i heard a voice: "hey, don't you work at _____ hospital?"  surprised, i turned around to see the late-shift custodian from the hospital i worked at part-time.  i would talk to him every time he came by or when i passed him in the hall getting a snack or doing my rounds.  he would share about his family and struggles.  it just so happened that he also worked as a maintenance person at the office where i was interviewing (which would become my future employer after all).  we had a brief conversation in front of the manager that day, but my husband believes it showed my character.  for someone to remember me from another facility and recognize me in a different setting in different clothes, he says that i must have made an impression.  that i'm a nice person.

i had another interesting incident during my interview for my current employer.  as i walked in, i noticed a car with its lights on in the front parking lot.  i asked the person at the front desk if there was an intercom system where it could be broadcast.  she took the license plate number down and i went into my interview.  afterwards, when the manager walked me back into the lobby, the woman at the front desk approached me with a thank you and to tell me that the person who's car it was had been extremely grateful.  the manager inquired what that was all about, and after explaining it, she remarked that that had been a nice thing to do.

maybe it's all coincidence or maybe being "nice" has landed me a couple jobs.. but i'd like to believe that maybe i just saved someone a car battery or listened or gave up a few minutes of my time for a greater good.  to be a good samaritan.  because lending a hand is just that: helping someone who needs it when they haven't asked; giving without looking back.