fish out of water

earlier this week, i found a tee in my car, and since i am not a golfer, i figured there was only one way it could have gotten there: somehow i had unknowingly tracked it from my husband's car to mine.  i had borrowed his car a few weeks ago when my own car was being inspected, and while there are several benefits to driving his zippy little hatchback, there are also quite a few things that i would rather not be reminded of.

for one, the not-so-subtle hints that he plays golf.  when i first got into his car, i noticed that he had an abundance of tiny pencils everywhere.  and scorecards.  and oh, when i backed out of the driveway, no, that's not the sound of a huge bowling ball rolling around in the trunk... it's golf balls!  loose golf balls flying all over the back!  and you could hear them having a ball (see what i did there?) at every turn or stop.  hilarious.

and then there's the cleanliness, or lack thereof.  the man literally lives in his car.  now, to his credit, he has a decent commute, so i guess of all people i would understand.  and also, his parents told me when we first started dating that they knew something was up because he only cleaned out his car before dates.  i guess i would suspect something if the car was miraculously tidy.  so we can let the messiness slide there.

there's also the fact that i can only play one CD at a time.  as someone who boycotts the radio for months at a time, i fully appreciate the 6-disc CD player in my car.  and that i can switch tracks or turn the volume up/down right from my trusty steering wheel.  spoiled, i know.

i could go on and on, but the main thing is there's an amazing amount of random stuff we get used to for random things.  we probably don't even realize how accustomed we are to something until we find ourselves wanting.

beep#!

a couple of nights ago, one of our smoke detectors was beeping, so naturally my husband replaced the batteries.  moments later, we heard the chirping again so he changed out the batteries in the detector in our room.  but the noise continued, probably since the detectors are all wired together.  he came downstairs to switch out the batteries in the one right outside the kitchen... and wait for it... wait for it... beep!

so i jumped in to try to figure out which one was the culprit.  i stood underneath each one, deciding it must be the detector in the hallway upstairs, which turned out to be the first one he'd traded new batteries with.  i had to laugh, because the whole scene reminded me of a modern family episode.  if you haven't seen it, this was totally us (just short of the smashing part):

from season 2, episode 7: "chirp"



even though the hubbie managed to get the detector (which one, we'll never know) to stop, i swore i heard the darn chirping in my sleep that night.

it's all relative

i just heard on the news that there was a stabbing in my old apartment complex, right on the same street i lived on.  granted, it's been a long time since i've lived there and these acts of violence could happen anywhere, but it is more impactful when i actually know the exact spot where something horrible has occurred... like i can almost imagine the possibility of it happening to me.

5K-OK

hubbie has been talking about running a 5K for awhile, and recently committed to train.  being a supportive wife, i agreed to train with him.  what have i gotten myself into??

today was day 1.  we've decided to follow the couch-to-5K program written by josh clark:

Week	Workout 1	Workout 2	Workout 3
1	Brisk five-minute warmup walk. Then alternate 60 seconds of jogging and 90 seconds of walking for a total of 20 minutes.	Brisk five-minute warmup walk. Then alternate 60 seconds of jogging and 90 seconds of walking for a total of 20 minutes.	Brisk five-minute warmup walk. Then alternate 60 seconds of jogging and 90 seconds of walking for a total of 20 minutes.
2	Brisk five-minute warmup walk. Then alternate 90 seconds of jogging and two minutes of walking for a total of 20 minutes.	Brisk five-minute warmup walk. Then alternate 90 seconds of jogging and two minutes of walking for a total of 20 minutes.	Brisk five-minute warmup walk. Then alternate 90 seconds of jogging and two minutes of walking for a total of 20 minutes.
3	Brisk five-minute warmup walk, then do two repetitions of the following: Jog 200 yards (or 90 seconds) Walk 200 yards (or 90 seconds) Jog 400 yards (or 3 minutes) Walk 400 yards (or three minutes)	Brisk five-minute warmup walk, then do two repetitions of the following: Jog 200 yards (or 90 seconds) Walk 200 yards (or 90 seconds) Jog 400 yards (or 3 minutes) Walk 400 yards (or three minutes)	Brisk five-minute warmup walk, then do two repetitions of the following: Jog 200 yards (or 90 seconds) Walk 200 yards (or 90 seconds) Jog 400 yards (or 3 minutes) Walk 400 yards (or three minutes)
4	Brisk five-minute warmup walk, then: Jog 1/4 mile (or 3 minutes) Walk 1/8 mile (or 90 seconds) Jog 1/2 mile (or 5 minutes) Walk 1/4 mile (or 2-1/2 minutes) Jog 1/4 mile (or 3 minutes) Walk 1/8 mile (or 90 seconds) Jog 1/2 mile (or 5 minutes)	Brisk five-minute warmup walk, then: Jog 1/4 mile (or 3 minutes) Walk 1/8 mile (or 90 seconds) Jog 1/2 mile (or 5 minutes) Walk 1/4 mile (or 2-1/2 minutes) Jog 1/4 mile (or 3 minutes) Walk 1/8 mile (or 90 seconds) Jog 1/2 mile (or 5 minutes)	Brisk five-minute warmup walk, then: Jog 1/4 mile (or 3 minutes) Walk 1/8 mile (or 90 seconds) Jog 1/2 mile (or 5 minutes) Walk 1/4 mile (or 2-1/2 minutes) Jog 1/4 mile (or 3 minutes) Walk 1/8 mile (or 90 seconds) Jog 1/2 mile (or 5 minutes)
5	Brisk five-minute warmup walk, then: Jog 1/2 mile (or 5 minutes) Walk 1/4 mile (or 3 minutes) Jog 1/2 mile (or 5 minutes) Walk 1/4 mile (or 3 minutes) Jog 1/2 mile (or 5 minutes)	Brisk five-minute warmup walk, then: Jog 3/4 mile (or 8 minutes) Walk 1/2 mile (or 5 minutes) Jog 3/4 mile (or 8 minutes)	Brisk five-minute warmup walk, then jog two miles (or 20 minutes) with no walking.
6	Brisk five-minute warmup walk, then: Jog 1/2 mile (or 5 minutes) Walk 1/4 mile (or 3 minutes) Jog 3/4 mile (or 8 minutes) Walk 1/4 mile (or 3 minutes) Jog 1/2 mile (or 5 minutes)	Brisk five-minute warmup walk, then: Jog 1 mile (or 10 minutes) Walk 1/4 mile (or 3 minutes) Jog 1 mile (or 10 minutes)	Brisk five-minute warmup walk, then jog 2-1/4 miles (or 25 minutes) with no walking.
7	Brisk five-minute warmup walk, then jog 2.5 miles (or 25 minutes).	Brisk five-minute warmup walk, then jog 2.5 miles (or 25 minutes).	Brisk five-minute warmup walk, then jog 2.5 miles (or 25 minutes).
8	Brisk five-minute warmup walk, then jog 2.75 miles (or 28 minutes).	Brisk five-minute warmup walk, then jog 2.75 miles (or 28 minutes).	Brisk five-minute warmup walk, then jog 2.75 miles (or 28 minutes).
9	Brisk five-minute warmup walk, then jog 3 miles (or 30 minutes).	Brisk five-minute warmup walk, then jog 3 miles (or 30 minutes).	The final workout! Congratulations! Brisk five-minute warmup walk, then jog 3 miles (or 30 minutes).

wish me luck, because i'll need it!

purple sky

it's only been a few days into summer, but there's nothing like the summer sky in the evenings.  i love sunsets, but i think i prefer twilight, when the sky is aglow, the light reflecting off the houses, trees, every surface the rays can touch.  suddenly, the world is illuminated for just a moment.

a beautiful, purple sky.

fish 'n friends

tonight we hosted our 4th(?) annual sushi party.  it's always a great time.  my husband and i provide all the necessary fish, ingredients, and supplies, and our friends jump in to make their own creations.

people always ask me how i learned to make my own sushi, and the answer is that i taught myself.  one day, i told my husband i wanted to try to duplicate what i've seen in restaurants at home, and so i did.  then i started inviting a couple friends over here and there, teaching them too, and soon, the sushi party was born. 

i usually invite a number of "regulars" and then some "newbies" who are interested in learning how to roll their maki and are open to a different experience. we tell guests it's BYOB, and then it's a party.

this time we had our biggest group yet.  there was a moment when i was in the middle of the hustle and bustle in the kitchen when i realized i have a really eclectic group of friends.  i'm never sure how the get-together will turn out, but when you have a bunch of people there all for a common love of sushi and a unique experience, how could it truly go wrong?  it's so nice to be able to bring a bunch of the people you know from all walks of life together for a night of good food and good conversation.

office life

friday evenings in the office after 5 o'clock (usually earlier in the summers) are especially quiet.  it's like a flick of a switch.  absolute stillness.  a sense of peace.  freedom to kick off my shoes or talk aloud (yes, to myself), without looking completely looney tunes.

there's also the liberty of yelling over cubes, which some of my coworkers were doing when i walked by today.  i had to chuckle because it reminded me of my old job when our group would stay late, sometimes into the wee hours of the night, to make a deadline for particularly hefty projects.

there are moments when i miss those days, but then i remind myself that i didn't want to be working all the time.  yet, what was i doing at the office until 8 p.m.?  sigh... i knew it would only be a matter of time.  old habits die hard.

closet germaphobe

it seems the longer i work in healthcare, the more germ-conscious i become.  infection control is always top of mind, even for office employees.  these days, if my fingers brush any part of a trash can while throwing something out, i'll feel the need to wash my hands.  i keep disinfectant wipes at my desk and use them frequently.  the thought of those tiny microorganisms lurking everywhere is enough to make my skin crawl. 

i also have an issue with saliva.  on a CSI episode (and i may not get all of this right), one of the investigators was dry-heaving over a spitbucket she had to search for evidence.  that would totally be me, if i wasn't already throwing up in the corner.

but i wasn't always like this.  i can't say that the thought of germs even bothered me a few years ago.  however, there seems to be some correlation between getting older and my increased germaphobia.  i don't know if my OCD is manifesting with age or whether it's mostly because of the industry i'm in.  i could blame my microbiology class.  or my infectious diseases webinar.  there's something about images of infected people that doesn't exactly go away.

most people probably don't know this little hang-up of mine.  i don't freak out or anything.  not on the outside anyway.  so i guess that kind of makes me a closet germaphobe.

maybe sometimes ignorance is bliss!

ready, willing, able

i am a natural planner (a product of organized parents -- my mom loves to arrange family gatherings and holidays, months in advance; my dad is constantly scheduling the next vacation, complete with a schedule and list of activities).  i prepare for absolutely everything, whether it's a project at work, an outing with friends, a weekend with my husband, or even an upcoming trip.

case in point: in anticipation for an event at work today, i had been worried about having enough of a particular item.  i even volunteered to purchase an extra supply ahead of time.  nevertheless, i was told there was no reason to be concerned, so left it alone.  long story short, we (unsurprisingly) ran out of what we needed fairly quickly, which required a run to the store.  what did this teach me?  maybe sometimes it's not such a bad thing to be overprepared.. just in case.

i think those around me recognize this attribute (or it could be called, just being anal), because i am usually counted on to handle the details of whatever's going on.  there will be preliminary talk about events and such, but i am looked to to take the lead (or else nothing would be done).  and the more i take on, the more i'm asked to do this or that, join another committee, head up another event... it's impossible for me to say no.  most days i am balancing somewhere between coordinating a family project and finding the next adventure for my husband and me and making reservations for a girls' dinner and driving a team towards a company goal.  sometimes it's so much that i find myself asking, why do i do this to myself?

i do it because i care.  i do it because it matters.  i do it because after all the time and hard work and lack of sleep and occasional aggravation, it's worth it.  and then there's not even a question anymore.

limelight

tonight while i was in the produce aisle of the supermarket, the man next to me asked his wife, "is there any more news on ryan dunn?"  she replied that there wasn't much more, and then he inquired whether they (being the news) ever "found out" who had been in the car with him during his fatal crash.

the wife replied, "yeah, it wasn't anyone famous... it was just someone he [ryan] had been close to."

celebrity news is always an open topic for discussion, as if anything about them is fair game.  it's an odd phenomenon that snippets into their lives, these people who are essentially strangers, instantly bring us together -- the "did you hear?" and "is it true?" buzz in our ears.  and the more local the celebrity is, the more sensational the news.  we may know absolutely nothing about the person except for what's reported, but their names roll off our tongues as if we're on a first-name basis.

when i told my husband that the news stations were waiting to hear from bam margera (ryan dunn's best friend and jackass costar), and he remarked, "what do they want?  just leave him alone," he had basically vocalized what i'd been thinking... that people are people, famous or not, and should be respected the same way any grieving friend would want to be.

it's also interesting to me that a person's life can be measurable by their notoriety.  although there were 2 people in the car yesterday, the other person will forever be linked to the tragedy as "ryan dunn's friend," his name probably meaning little to media outlets and fans of reality TV.  how suddenly, one person's life and the loss of that life are more noteworthy than another's.

it's sad, really.  but i guess that's the nature of the beast.

home cooking

a coworker gave me some spring onions from her garden, so i decided to try my hand at making spring onion pancakes from scratch.  they turned out pretty good for my first batch, but i'll probably need to make them a few more times before i'm satisfied.. that is, if i make another attempt.

spring onion or scallion pancakes remind me so much of my mom.  i don't think she actually ever made them from scratch, but she always liked heating some up for us in a pan as a snack.  whatever she makes always has that "mom" touch, like her signature.  the same goes for my dad too... his fried eggs or salmon dish that i can almost taste as i'm typing this.  there's always something about homemade cooking from your parents that can not be duplicated.  i don't know how many times i've tried to make something that my mom or dad has, and it just doesn't taste the same.  it's similar, but there's always something missing.

i've asked my mom over the years for recipes, but like any mother would tell you, there really aren't any.  it's all by memory and taste.  she's tried to put together recipes for me with portions and amounts, but no matter how precisely i measure or how much i compensate, it turns out different.  i can't put my finger on what it is, but i know enough to know that it's not my mom's.

maybe the reason is because i know who it's coming from, the love and care that's put into the food, not only to provide nutrition and sustenance to my body, but to nurture and sustain my life.

mentor

in my sophomore year of pharmacy school, i had to take the dreaded organic chemistry.  my father was my personal tutor, as this was his field of study.  there were many times we'd be up all night working through the problems, him patiently waiting for me to figure out the solutions.  usually as the night gradually became morning, i would become more and more frustrated, often in tears because my brain couldn't wrap around the diagrams or formulas, and he would tell me to try again, try again.  he would show me how he arrived at the answers and walk me through them step by step, consistently telling me i could do it, and that he wouldn't stop helping me.  he told me the first time he'd gone through organic, he had failed, but he picked himself up again and decided to major in it.  this is exemplary of who he is.

on particularly rough nights when i was in a daze from lack of sleep and bouts of self-loathing, my dad would tell me to go upstairs to bed while he finished up.  in the mornings, i would find page-long explanations on how he had solved the problems, with pictures, notes outlining each step, the works.  i knew that he had sacrificed a good night's sleep to do this, even when he had church or work or whatever responsibility he had on his own plate the next day.  he never gave up on me, even when i gave up on myself.

in the end, i did pass organic, but i owe more of that to my teacher at home than my professor in school.  this is only one of many examples of what my father has given me.

if it's one thing i've learned, it's that he taught me to believe in me.  so happy father's day to the constant mentor in my life, from your grateful student.

recreation/re-creation

this afternoon, my sisters and i (along with our respective husbands, which still sounds alittle funny and odd to say), went on a bike ride with our dad at the local park.  i was trying to remember the last time we'd ridden our bikes as a family, and it must have been when i was in high school and we were all still under the same roof.

the park by my parents' house wasn't always there.  it used to be a massive field that was across the street from our old house.  it was so neglected and overrun with grass and weeds that it reminded me of a wheat field.  it could have actually been one, but i can't be sure.  the middle sister and i would walk over there to play, much shorter than the growth, getting lost in the land.  sometimes we would test how far we could go before one of us chickened out (more likely to be me) and we'd turn around towards home.  a few times we saw deer, and i remember twice we discovered a buck.

when we found out about the plans for the park, we couldn't wait.  it took a couple years to develop, and i still remember the first few times we went after it was officially open, how new and fresh it looked, the black pavement of paths undiscovered.  one summer i'd get up early (a true feat) to go jogging with my dad.  we would often go at night too, with just the sounds of the crickets and our sneakered feet hitting the ground in rhythm.

the middle sister and i loved to bring our bikes too.  there was an entrance to the park right across the street, so we'd pedal over and hook onto a larger loop that brought us to a bridge that spanned over a creek.  that was the best area for honeysuckle; even to this day i could smell the sweet scent as i rode by.  there is still wildlife around (today we spotted a groundhog), and back then, we would still see the deer.  i remember one particular time when we tried to catch up to a one as we raced down a hill.  we couldn't, of course, but it was still fun trying.

there is also another memory i particularly like.  on the last night (or so we thought) before we moved, my sister and i snuck out of the house to the park.  there, on the swingsets, we said our goodbyes to our town and talked about how much we would miss the place we had come to know so well.

it's a wonderful feeling to be able to come back to a place that holds so many fond memories, and to share it with the same people who helped create them in the first place.

carrier

i saw this on someone's mug at work awhile ago, but it is rather fitting (for any day, really):

"i do not suffer from stress, but i am a carrier."

how true!  this is probably why i grind my teeth at night.

tears for fears

today i woke up crying from a bad dream i had of my mother dying from breast cancer.  she is overseas right now, so i had dreamt that she never made it home from her visit.  in the dream, i was racking my brain to picture the last time i had seen her before her trip, and couldn't remember if we'd hugged.  and i cried and cried because i was convinced that we had not, and the ache in my heart was from missing her, even though i had just found out the horrible news minutes earlier.

coincidentally, today is the day my mom is traveling back home, so the entire scene in my head was incredibly jarring, even after i'd woken myself up with my own tears.  i hate waking up this way, to a wet pillow and swollen face, and utter confusion... then remembering the terrible images conjured up by my mind, the realness of the raw emotion, the stillness of the morning.  until finally, to the relief that it was only a dream.

there was nothing i wanted more today than to hug my mom as tight as i possibly could.

fireflies

the lightning bugs are out tonight, illuminating the lawn with their bright, flashing bodies, as if in a choreographed dance.  whenever i see them, i am reminded of summer.  i think of my childhood when we'd chase them in the front yard, arms outstretched, watching them flicker around us.

i have a vague memory of my cousin catching one once, then holding it securely between his thumb and index finger.  my sisters and i gathered around to peek, somewhat tentative but mostly fascinated.  we marveled as the little thing lit up, emitting a greenish-yellow hue from its underbelly.  after a few blinks, my cousin released it gently, and we all watched it float away into the distance.

as i recall this incident, it becomes clearer, like a lens coming into focus.  but if i were to recount it again tomorrow, or ask my sisters or cousin what they summon to mind, the story would have slight variations.  the recollection is one-sided and uniquely conscious to me in the way i've chosen to remember it.

memories are a bit like fireflies.  they hover, close to the surface, some more vivid than others.  they can be almost mystifying until you catch one, reminding yourself it's real.  you could jar them up to keep them close, but they're probably meant to be free and shared, like drifting rays in the dark expanse of our minds.

off/on

this morning i started to date something, "3/16" until i realized it wasn't march or the 16th.  how off do you have be to forget the month AND the day?  i said to myself aloud, "what are you doing?!" and made a mental note that i needed to get it together.  like, now.

my little internal lecture worked.  i powered through the morning right through lunch, crossing a ton of stuff off my endless list until it no longer looked so insurmountable.  by the afternoon, i had burned through an entire pile on my desk, and before i knew it, it was time to go home already.  once home, i decided to switch on jeopardy (which i've neglected for months), and managed to answer question after question correctly, including the final question, which is rare (the 'correctly' part, anyway, and especially when it comes to the last round).  i had redeemed myself.

maybe sometimes a mini pep talk from within is all that's needed to turn a whole day around.

viewfinder

i don't have the best of luck with cameras, or rather, cameras don't have the best of luck with me.  (i think part of this is actually because i carry a camera with me everywhere, so the chances of something happening to it are much higher).  a few years ago, my sister bought me a nice camera that i used for a good couple of years until i dropped it face-first into the sand while on vacation.  after deciding my camera phone wouldn't cut it, i bought a new one that didn't even last me a full year before it fell out of its case, again face-first, onto the floor of a gelato shop that ended up messing up the sensor.  that brings me to the camera i have now, which is about a month and a half old.

yesterday afternoon, my husband spotted a hawk sitting atop a neighbor's house so i, of course, reacted by going back inside to retrieve my camera.  i turned it on and pressed the mode button to switch the scene setting, and the camera did nothing.  so i tried to zoom in and out, but it wouldn't do either.  next i attempted to take a picture but again, nothing.  none of the buttons were working!

i immediately assumed that it was because i had dropped it recently.  (yes, really).  it had slipped off the table the week before, but had appeared to emerge unscathed.  could it be a late effect, though?

i removed the battery, then the camera card, and when my husband suggested that i plug the camera in directly to my laptop, i did.  but once i connected it to my laptop, i couldn't even choose the mode i wanted the camera to go in, since none of the buttons did much of anything.  i resorted to the manual, skimming through the pages, then went online to troubleshoot.  i couldn't find anything about buttons freezing.

i was baffled.  my husband couldn't figure it out either.  it had just been working a couple of hours ago!

i could feel myself on the verge of panic, wondering if i had somehow broken my camera again without even knowing it.  i refused to believe it couldn't even survive for 8 weeks!  so i  decided, like all the times before, it had to be something i was doing and not what the camera wasn't doing.

the manual was pulled out again and after some trial and error, i realized that i must have bumped the 'intelligent auto' switch and somehow locked up the buttons.  a simple tap, and it was fixed.  thank goodness.

i guess luck was on my side this time.  or more appropriately, the power of logic.

daydream believer

today my cousin posed a question to his facebook family:

"I suppose there are only things such as hopes and dreams so you can hope and dream that they come true. I guess that's why they stay as hopes and dreams.

When is it when they become reality?"

this got me thinking.  when do your hopes and dreams become reality?  i answered that maybe it was when you started seeing them as reality.  to go after them, tooth and nail.. despite the critics, despite the letdowns, despite all those voices telling you no.  sometimes, the loudest voice you hear is your own.. and you have to dig deep inside to pull yourself out.

in my experience, whenever i really wanted something, i'd fight for it, instead of talking about what i wanted to do or what i thought i should do.  perhaps nike got it right with their slogan: just do it.  take action!  and for me, it typically was much harder before it became easier, and 9 times out of 10 i'd have to find a way to tell myself i could.  but that didn't mean to give up.  or to stop believing that one day what i wanted most could come to fruition.

i think once a goal is within sight, the road to get there doesn't look so long anymore.

creepy crawlers

i hate centipedes.  i don't know if it's their long, spidery legs or how they appear to float across the floor when they crawl.  there's just something creepy about them that makes my hair stand on end and my insides yell, gross!  i'm shivering even at the thought of them.

i tend to notice them more during the change in seasons, which is now (hooray).  they like to hang out on the walls of the basement surrounding the stairwell, which are stark white compared to their dark brown bodies, so needless to say, they stick out like a sore thumb.  whenever i see one (or sometimes 2!) positioned by the stairs, i have to give myself a pep talk into going down that night to clean out the cat litter.  if one is on a side wall, i'm usually okay with running past it (while sticking to the opposite wall), but if i have to walk underneath one, you can forget about it.  i'll tell myself it will be gone in the morning.  and it always is.  where does it go?  who knows, but let's not talk about that.

i rarely see them in the house (apart from the basement) but the other night when i was about to head upstairs, i saw movement from the corner of my eye.  i looked closer and realized a centipede was resting against my husband's shoe.  of course i totally freaked, especially because i couldn't possibly smash it against his shoe!  i managed to shoo it away from that particular shoe, but then it climbed into his other shoe.  this would not do.  i smacked the shoe and it ran across the floor (ew).  i grabbed the closest diffuser (which happened to be some body mist stuff) i could find but the spray technique didn't work very well.  it climbed onto one of the cabinets, and to my horror, into the crack between the drawers.  i wondered if i could let it go, but decided that i'd never get to sleep knowing there was this disgusting bug in one of my drawers.  so i worked up enough nerve to go through the contents, lifting up plastic utensils, napkins, placements, then dish towels.  nothing.  where was the sucker?  so i opened and closed the drawer a couple times, hoping it would scare the thing into fleeing.  it did.  mr. ugly scurried towards the cat food (yikes!), then changed direction (thank goodness) and headed into our watering pitcher that happened to be laying on its side on the floor.  i grabbed the pitcher and turned it upright, but the nasty thing was already staring to make its way back out!  this is when i filled a cup with water and drowned it.  can you believe it?  so much work to be rid of a stupid bug.

and after all that, i still didn't sleep soundly that night.  i kept feeling an itch where there wasn't one. 

bogey

it's interesting how whenever my body feels alittle off, everything else does too.  i am so connected to my physical being that feeling like crap generally equates to a crappy day, or night, or whenever i stopped feeling up to par.

it is a gentle reminder of how fragile we are; one day our world is limitless and the next we are merely limited.

ah, the quiet mysteries of life...

shelter

i weathered the thunderstorm tonight by cooking up my own storm in the kitchen.  a coworker gave me a ton of fresh basil from her garden, so i decided to put it to use.

pasta with fresh pesto.

tomato, basil, & mozzarella quiche.

cooking can be so therapeutic.. my refuge.

glee live = live glee

concert parking: $15.

bff scoring tickets a week before the performance: $115.

enjoying a night with thousands of other gleeks: priceless.

... for dummies

my workplace's phone system recently changed so that incoming calls will just ring (instead of beep).  i didn't think i would ever get used to our original intercom system, but i must have since i had to re-learn how to operate a phone the "normal" way.

now to give alittle background on this (so my story will make sense), most of the calls that come in for me do not go through my direct line.  we have receptionists that answer the phones and distribute the calls accordingly, first buzzing into the appropriate person, then announcing the call, and finally "transferring" it to our lines.

in the past, the calls would be parked on our lines and the "park" button on our phones would blink, cuing us to pick up.  so with the intercom system it went alittle like this (for me, anyway):

<LOUD BEEP>

receptionist: "<my name here>?"

me: "yes?" (after picking up the phone, because i didn't like yelling back).

receptionist: "you have <so and so's name> calling from <so and so's place> on your line."

me: "okay, thanks."

<BOTH HANG UP>

so then i'd hit the "park" button and introduce myself to the caller.  piece of cake, right?  (believe me, it took me awhile to get this down to a science).

well, most of today didn't run so smoothly.  for one thing, my phone was ringing off the hook.  and secondly, i didn't realize the phone changes affected my process.  whenever one of the receptionists would announce my caller and say, "when i hang up, you'll have her/him," i'd hang up, and wait for the blink.  when it didn't come, i'd wait a few seconds, then call the receptionist and let her know that i didn't receive the call.  meanwhile, the caller had been calling back in to the main line, picked up by a receptionist, yada yada yada, and transferred to my line, where again i wouldn't see the blink.  this cycle repeated itself 1 or 2 times, so both the receptionist and i thought something was wrong with my phone.  after another couple tries, the receptionist asked me if i was hanging up after she was.  well yes, that's what i always do... doh!  that's when i discovered that the real problem was me.  i had been (accidentally) hanging up on my callers!  all i had to do was remain on the line like the receptionists had been prompting me, but somehow that had gone in one ear and out the other.

i felt like a dimwit and apologized profusely to both receptionists for being an idiot.  we had a good laugh and luckily, my callers had all been patient and kind once they got through to me.  i retold the story to my coworkers, telling them that i needed, "how to operate a phone... for dummies" (inside joke).

sometimes, you just need to be able to have a real good laugh at yourself.

try, try, try again

ah, rejection -- that awful, ugly word.  we all know the feeling: unrequited love, receiving a poor grade, being passed up for that job or promotion, losing a game.  for me, it's not winning a writing contest.

my fear of rejection has condoned a glass-half-empty outlook that i am constantly trying to battle at home.   and when i say battle, it's not just with myself (though a majority of it is within me).  i also have my husband to contend with.  on one hand, there's me, who often goes into things with skepticism and low expectations, and on the other, there's him, all promise and pure emotion.  his excitement is so contagious that i typically accuse him of getting my hopes up when i'd rather stay level, which is believing that nothing good could come from dreaming.

the thing is, if i truly looked inside, i think i'm really the glass-half-full girl.  ask anyone at work and they'd tell you i'm the positive one, diligently looking for greener pastures.  so when i enter a contest and say, "i'm not going to win" or "this is just practice," inside, my heart is really saying, "what if i win this time?"

which is probably why it always hurts so much when i don't make the cut.  i play like it doesn't matter, that i have the potential or the confidence or that thing, the thing which the people who matter haven't seen in me yet.  perhaps it would soften the blow if i were more honest with myself from the beginning, but there is no way to tell.  i just know that every time i'm told no it aches, a few tears are shed, and my fear tries to overtake me with its acrid words: you don't have what it takes.  what's the use in trying?

what is the use in trying?  maybe for a breakthrough, the word my husband used to console me.  for one day to be seen.  for one day to surface.  who ever said it was easy, anyway?  you don't ever hear from those who have made it that it didn't take some blood, sweat, and tears to get there.  and so, i will write.  (hopefully, minus the blood).

daddy's girl

last week, i broke the bottom end of the car charger to our GPS (aka 'jenny'), leaving us with none that work (the top end of our first charger refuses to charge).  so naturally, i tried to fix it with tape, and discovered that if i angled the cord just right, jenny charged up just fine.  alittle slow, but fine.

it wasn't until my husband was teasing me about my taping technique when i realized that it was totally something my dad would do.  for my father's birthday this year, my sisters and i decided to buy our parents new garage door openers since my dad would never do it for himself.  he would have used the broken, taped-up openers until all of the buttons stopped working.. or until the things vaporized.

then i thought about my cell phone which i've had for just under 3 years now, and how frustrated i get when the trackball gets stuck, which is one of the major features of a blackberry.  but i'd rather just deal with it than fork over some cash to replace it.  same thing with my laptop.. i spent hours realigning my "N" key when it fell off the keyboard, even after hubbie told me to just buy a new one.  but no, i fixed it and it dislodges from time to time, but i just clip it back into place.

i truly am my father's daughter.

this time though, i caved with the charger.  i finally decided that for all the aggravation it would cause me, i was willing to pay $3 for a replacement.

lesson learned

at the arena football game tonight (our first time going to one, btw.. and it was fun!), i mentioned to my husband that i didn't get a chance to blog before we left.  he told me i didn't need to worry since he had already blogged for me.  naturally i laughed it off (since i still have trouble sometimes telling whether he's joking or not).

once we got home, i jumped on the computer and found this:

it wasn't posted, but i couldn't let it go to waste.  so congratulations hun, you just won a spot as my guest blogger for the day.

i guess that teaches me not to leave my blogger window open and unattended!

signed

whenever i find myself at a crossroads, i pray for guidance.  when i was younger, this meant that i'd literally ask God to please give me a sign.  and like clockwork, i'd always receive one. 

for instance, throughout my teenage years, whenever i'd be struggling with a decision that i believed to be life-altering (c'mon, i was a teen), i'd specifically ask God if He would reveal the answer to me.  preferably in a clear manner.  and every sunday, the pastor's message would hit home, as if God were directly speaking to me.

it has been this way all my life.  and even though it never fails, i am still stunned each time i stumble upon a "sign" without looking, and especially by how amazing it is that i can have this relationship which transcends anything i've ever known.  i know skeptics would say, well it's all up to interpretation or what can be perceived to be a sign.. but nonetheless, i believe this truly happens.  that's what faith is after all, isn't it? 

just last night, i prayed extra hard for something that's been troubling me for awhile, especially in the last week.  and then today, i got my sign (through another fortune cookie, no less):

"Pick a path with heart."

i instantly felt at peace.  and if that is all i need to feel some comfort (even for alittle while), then i will believe it to be true.

OCD

i was on my way home tonight when i realized that my cell phone wasn't in the inside pocket of my purse, where it usually is.  i fished around my whole bag for it, hoping it would somehow materialize if i wished for it hard enough.  it didn't, of course.

so i searched the car (as much as i could while driving).  it wasn't on the seat or console or stuck in the door or anywhere in between.  once i was settled on the fact that it wasn't in my possession, i thought about where it could be, deciding that it must still be at work.

this whole thought process probably only took a few seconds, but then the questions started coming.  why hadn't i noticed the phone on my desk when i was packing up?  could i leave the phone at work until tomorrow?  should i turn around to retrieve it?  how much time would it take to go back?  what if i discovered that it wasn't even where i thought it was?  what if i'd dropped it while i was out during my break today?

at this point, there was no room for hesitation.  i had to go back.  otherwise, the questions wouldn't stop and i'd be plagued with them all night.  i had to find out.

don't you absolutely hate that?  just this morning, a coworker mentioned that she had gone back home to make sure that she'd turned the iron off.  i do that all the time with my straightener, checking and rechecking, until i get in the car and start asking myself if i really remembered unplugging it or not because i am so used to doing it every day.  this happens with the garage door too.  i'm constantly questioning whether or not i really saw it close, until i just give in and make a loop around the development.  once the questions start flowing, i really have no choice.

it turns out that my phone was under a stack of papers on my desk.

ah, well... i'd rather know than obssess about not knowing.  at least that's what i tell myself.

shake it off

you know all those little things that are so easily pushed to the side for the bigger things to be done?  well, they accumulate over time.  so much so, that sometimes i feel so overwhelmed that i don't know even know where to begin.  so i don't.

and then, i wake up one day and can't take it a moment longer.  i have to attack the list, cut it down, cross it off, unburden myself.  it's like a cleansing, turning the page, starting fresh.  something inside just says, do it.  take care of it.  be rid of it.

today was one of those days.  and now i feel so relieved.  lighter.