matters of the heart

the heart walk is tomorrow, and as my company leader and member of the local AHA heart walk committee this year, i have a million things running through my head. did team members get their t-shirts in time? does everyone know about our meeting time and place? have i validated my donation records with the website totals? i've counted and recounted the cash and checks we received from our last fundraiser this week, still determined to hit our goal.

yesterday afternoon, i received word that i was needed as a photographer for the event, so now on top of everything else that has to be done in the morning the very minute i get there (registration; donation submission; material distribution; rounding up my family and the group/counting heads; making sure everyone's in line for the team photo, not to mention figuring out how i'm going to jump into my own team photo; all of which occurs before the walk itself!), i will now be required to arrive even earlier than scheduled, and did i mention i'm not a morning person?

luckily, i have help (which i graciously "volunteered" my husband and wonderful committee members for), and i just have to keep reminding myself that this is all for an amazing cause. and to breathe, too.

this year, our committee came up with the idea to invite members of the team to share their story, in order to connect the event and the cause to our company on a more personal level. our local AHA always features a 'face of heart' to represent the walk each year, so we took that idea and expanded it. the stories that have come out of these segments are extraordinary and incredibly moving (as in, i cried when i read all of them). so i think now would be a good time to mention how i become involved with the heart walk and why i do what i do.

it all started in april of 2009. i was on a trip with my best friend in london. we were in a pub enjoying some great food and loud music when i received a call from my husband. almost instantly i knew something was wrong... he wouldn't have called unless it was for an emergency, because of international roaming fees and all. my husband's voice had an edge to it, and i had to pull myself into the street to hear him and then take a few moments to acclimate myself, match my not-so-serious atmosphere to his much-too-serious tone.
 

"my dad is in the hospital," he said.

"is he okay?" i asked, stupidly. how else do you respond to that, though?

"he went in with tachycardia."

"is that when your heart beats too fast?"

"yeah."

and that is what started it all.

after he filled me in on the details of my father-in-law's condition, i never felt further away from my husband than i did in that moment. i could have been a million miles away. i was helpless, wanting to be there for him, wanting immensely to hold him and tell him things would be okay. but would they? there was no way of knowing.

a couple of days later, i was on a plane back home, and then picked up and driven straight to the hospital, fatigued and jetlagged. but i would grow more weary after my visit. there's something disconcerting about seeing a parent in a hospital bed, someone who you assume is healthy and strong, built solid, in a generic gown. it stirred something within me; i had never even taken the time to contemplate heart disease or stroke or other heart-related conditions since i was so focused on other killers (based on family history), like cancer. but that is always the way, isn't it... to be ignorant and unaware until something happens, forces you to wake up, like a slap in the face.

my FIL underwent 2 procedures to pinpoint his arrhythmias. the first was a femoral catheterization to check for blockages (and luckily there were none). next he had a cardiac ablation which appeared to fix his heart flutter. he was kept in the hospital for more tests and closely monitored. with each new test or procedure, there seemed to be another problem to fix. the whole experience was frightening and difficult, and all we could do was wait. finally, it was determined that he had atrial fibrillation and this would be managed with medications.

not even a week later, my company announced that we would be participating in the heart walk that year. i immediately signed up as a team captain, which by the next year had morphed into the company leader, and now in my third year of being involved, i also volunteer as a member of the official heart walk committee which plans the entire event.

tomorrow is the first time that my FIL will actually be walking with us, and i couldn't be happier. this is why the cause is so close to my heart, literally. i will be walking for him and all my coworkers and their families with their incredible survival stories, and for everyone affected in some way by cardiovascular disease.

wild child

today is my sister R's birthday.  happy birthday!

R has always been the bold one.  fearless.  at first glance, you probably wouldn't guess this, since she's a tiny person.  but she can certainly make a big splash.

when we were younger, my mother enrolled us both in gymnastics.  my sister was much more excited about this activity than i was, because she had no problems with tumbles and flips or utilizing any of the equipment.  although we were in separate classes based on our age group (which determined level of difficulty), it wasn't long before she had aced everything and would hang around my class to cure her boredom.  soon, she had become an honorary student in my class, the youngest and smallest, but able to climb like a little monkey and jump like a baby kangaroo.  and it took me the entire length of the course to do a cartwheel on a balance beam.

growing up, she would do things her way.  she would go after what she wanted, never thinking twice, jumping right in.  she tried out for the basketball team.  she made friends on the first day of school after we moved (with a girl who, not surprisingly, is still her best friend).  for someone like me, who liked to blend into the background, she was who i would look to for the latest fads or trends.  but i would also look to her for courage, because she seemed to hold the key to adventure and a place free of worry.  and i constantly craved for alittle less responsibility, even though it was against my nature to do so.

what i've come to realize is that R ultimately helped me pave my own way.  seeing her face things head-on gave me strength and resolve.  even when she wasn't so sure of herself, she appeared confident.  which meant i could be too.  i could do things that scared me, especially when it involved her.  prime example: when she was in sixth grade and relentlessly taunted by a bully at a neighbor's house, i marched across the street and gave that girl a piece of my mind.  i was shaking.  and i knew R probably could have eventually handled it on her own.  but i wanted that girl to know i had my sister's back.

because i'm sure my sister will always have mine.

me at age 4.. ecstatic to have a sister.

can you guess which one she is??

snooze muse

i'm a chronic snoozer.  i set my alarms far enough ahead that i can hit the snooze button several times before getting out of bed.  i even space out my alarms so that they do not go off at the same time.

this morning, after i had ignored my phone's normal buzzing and the static from my radio, the sound of a text message brought me out of my drowsy limbo.  curious, i checked my screen and it was a text from my husband (and yes, he was right next to me, but i hadn't noticed because his back was turned).  the message was short and sweet, and it caught my attention.

and it made getting up just a little easier.

the jitters

i had to get in earlier for back-to-back meetings first thing in the morning, so decided on a cup of coffee to give me a jolt.  this is a rarity because i hardly drink it now.  i quit coffee right after college since i didn't need it anymore to get me to class or to an exam (which in pharmacy school was always scheduled for 7:30!) and because it didn't always leave me feeling at my best.

still, there are times when coffee is absolutely necessary, like i'd fall asleep driving on my way in to work or a day like today where i knew i'd have to stay focused straight through the morning.  and even though i know these are must-have situations, it's still hard for me to drink it.  i actually think my body is so used to not having it that my stomach lashes out in protest when i do.  and i avoid that at all costs.

so, back to today.  i don't think it hit me until about 11 a.m. when i almost felt like i was buzzing, and it was difficult to stop talking.  if you know me, this is odd.  but i found myself doing everything in my power to sit still or pause long enough to maintain fairly balanced conversations.  to make matters worse, once i was back at my desk, i powered through lunch without hardly realizing it.  and because my stomach felt hollow and i had a 4 p.m. meeting scheduled, i somehow believed drinking a latte would help me function at that time.  but when 6 rolled around and then 7, my hands were literally shaking and i felt like i had to pry my teeth apart.

even now, i know i need to sleep because i have another big day ahead of me tomorrow, but my eyes are wide open.  i mean WIDE.  OPEN.

sigh... i think i'll stick to tea from now on.  or maybe just water.

squirreled

funny of the day (and a sign that autumn is here):

while sitting at my desk, i heard jumping, tapping, and scurrying overhead.  turns out it was a squirrel (or 2) that had made its way into the roof and was driving the facilities manager nuts (get it? heh).  he had mentioned the pest problem at a meeting last week, but the little guy hadn't made it to my area until today.  and apparently he's been bringing his friends with him.

imagine having a meeting in your office and hearing the critters running about.  you can't help but laugh.

it's electric

my sister-in-law recently bought a house, so we spent this afternoon helping her move and set up her furniture and get her appliances in working order.  it required alot of energy, even to do a simple task like put her couch together.  after we were done and relaxing, i was trying to recall who had helped my husband and i move into our place, especially with the big items i couldn't have carried, and remembered my old roommate had come out to give us a hand.  i felt ashamed that i had so easily forgotten, especially since we couldn't have done it without him.

after the move-in, we went out to dinner to celebrate.  my SIL was giddy, displaying that same excitement anyone would have for owning their first home.  i was reminded of one of my favorite memories when my husband and i had bought our house, after closing.  since the house was 40-50 miles from each of us, we decided to pack up the smaller items in our cars and drive over every evening after work for a week to unload.  on the first night after we had unpacked, not yet possessing any furniture, we lay on the floor in the dark holding hands, in disbelief that this place would now be our home.  we were ridiculously happy.  our cheeks were sore from smiling.  everything on our faces screamed, this is ours!  this is really ours!  and although the rooms were bare, we knew it would only be a matter of time before we filled them.  and nearly 5 years later, we have.

that "first homeowner" feeling is electric.

november 2006, our first night in our new house

back to basics

my husband was out of town today, so i decided to utilize the morning to dye my hair.  i had bought the dye weeks, maybe a month or so ago, but my weekends have been so busy that i kept pushing it off.  the main difference this time between all the times before it was that i was dyeing my hair back to black, or 'black licorice' as the box indicated.  i had promised my husband i would quit coloring my hair awhile ago, and although the thought scared me (since i hadn't had my natural hair color since my freshman year of college), frankly i was alittle tired of keeping up with my roots reappearing.  so, once i had the gloves on and prepared the dye, there was no going back.

the effect was instant.  odd.  the color was black indeed, but seemingly darker than my natural hair color, and in stark contrast with my light skin.  so i still am not used to the strange reflection staring back at me.  i know with time i will become used to it (what choice do i have?) but it's something else too.  i didn't realize it earlier, but while i had been stripping my hair of the color and accents and chemicals i had used over the last decade, i was starting anew by going back to the basics.

afterwards, not feeling up to going out, i spent most of my afternoon rereading the hunger games.  even though it was the second time around and i knew what would happen (not to mention i had just read it only a week ago), i still couldn't pull away.  this time i dwelled more on the descriptions of the scenes, painting the pictures in my head.  there were other details i noticed during this read, like watching a movie for the second time and discovering things that had been missed at first glance.  it's amazing how a story can change and develop with a longer look, with a different perspective, one with knowing the ending.  because now, instead of focusing on the major plot points, there's a chance to see the accompaniments, the pieces of the drama that complement it, which are just as important as the key events.  if the story were stripped bare, it would be these elements that would prove vital to the book as a whole.

so today was a second look of sorts; at myself, at a story i can't get enough of.

off-course

i can get lost practically anywhere.  for most of the places that i travel frequently, i have a set route that i take and am comfortable enough to run on autopilot.  but if there's a roadblock (i.e. accident, construction, etc.) that forces me off a normal road, i'll have to blindly rely on jenny, my trusted GPS.  and i hate this, being unprepared and without printed directions (yes, i still look up and print directions even with a GPS).

familiar roads can still become foreign to me.  i recognize certain streets and areas but have no sense of how they fit together on a map.  directional cues?  forget about it.  at least i have a slight awareness of when i'm starting to go the wrong way, and have found many creative ways of circling back or turning around.

the one exception to all of the above is when i'm traveling to a place i've never trekked before.  if there are 2 of us vacationing, i'll often step up as the navigator.  i'll study maps the night before, plan our routes to our destination, and keep us on track.  and generally, this method goes pretty smoothly.  so i wonder... am i able to shift gears somehow because i know someone else is relying on me?  or is it just because i do my homework? 

maybe it's a bit of both.

whad'ya know

i normally don't realize how much i actually know about what i do every day until i'm training or educating.  then the details and explanations just fly out as naturally as if i were talking about the weather or my family.  it's like my brain has acquired all this knowledge i didn't even know i had.

i guess what i'm saying is (and what my husband is always saying), i shouldn't underestimate myself.  there's alot of room in that head of mine!

newsworthy

i was (pleasantly) surprised to find myself on the front page of the pennysaver this morning.  since i work 40 miles west of my residence, i do not get the local paper but my coworker spotted me in it and dropped off a copy.

the article which accompanied the group photo was about the lancaster heart walk.  i had known about the picture and article, but even the local AHA (where i volunteer) had not seen the final piece and had no idea where it would be published.

i don't think i've been in the newspaper since probably high school when i received a scholarship.  it's a nice feeling to make it back in for a great cause.

tangled

i've had 2 people remark about how incredibly long my hair is now, as if it's only recently noticeable.  it is long.  i can reach behind me and pull on it, the strands nearly encompassing my entire back.  i thought i was through the hard part (muggy, hot summer), but now i'm finding my hair gets caught in everything, or should i say i've been getting caught in my hair.

it's for a good cause.  it's for a good cause.  it's for a good cause.

and at least it will keep me warm this winter.

hunger for good

i mentioned in yesterday's post about pulling an all-nighter to finish the hunger games trilogy.  i hadn't been this intense about a series since twilight, and trust me, that's saying alot!

to be honest, i had my reservations about the hunger games.  i had heard some buzz awhile ago, but the premise sounded eerily similar to a japanese movie i watched (that was highly recommended by my crazy cousin which was probably a blatant warning), called 'battle royale.'  i found that movie disturbing and needlessly violent.  it bugged me so long afterward that despite all the recommendations and news i heard about 'the hunger games,' i banned it from my list.  i wanted nothing to do with it.

but i got over my fear and decided to be open.  it's not fair to swear something off by appearances alone, right?  so after reading the hunger games and only seeing 'battle royale' as a film adaptation, i will say this.  i think that overall they are different, but touch upon the same ideals, ask the same questions.  what would you do if you were rounded up and asked to kill for entertainment?  could you do it, knowing there could only be a sole survivor?

this is what the hunger games asks.  in a futuristic totalitarian country known as panem (which was once north america), the capitol forces the annual hunger games as a reminder of their power.  there are 12 districts that make up panem, and each year a boy and a girl between the ages of 12 and 18 are pulled from a lottery to represent their district in a fight to the death on live TV.  katniss, the story's heroine, steps in to take her younger sister prim's place who was pulled as their district's "tribute."  already a born-fighter and survivor since her father was killed as a child, she is a fierce competitor, but it isn't long before she wrestles with whether or not she can dispose of the boy in her own district.  she is constantly faced with that question of morality.

this theme carries throughout the series and you find katniss's innate compassion and ferocious determination to protect those she loves outweighing even her own will to survive.  you start to see what she would sacrifice for others and are amazed by her undeniable spirit, the lengths she would go to to ensure a better future for her family.  you watch her character grow and change, witness her vulnerability not only from physical battle scars but from the government wearing her down, and are reminded by her bravery.  and before she even realizes it, her defiance paints her as the face of a rebellion, whether she likes it or not, even if she has not completely understood her own feelings about the world she lives in.

i've heard from a couple of friends who read the books that they did not like the ending.  i had a different reaction; i felt that there was no other way the author could have concluded the story, after all the hardship and suffering the characters had gone through.  and although i felt that the main characters did find their version of happiness by the last book, it was at the expense of much pain and loss.  there couldn't have been a happy, fluffy ending.  this was reality.

and reality asks the hard questions.  it's probably why i loved these books.  they make you think, they make you question.  they give you a story that does not leave you.

an account

it's nearly impossible to sleep during the day.  the sounds of life are too loud to ignore; my husband trying to tiptoe around the room, a cat coming to wake me as i struggle against consciousness.  cars racing (?) down the street.  neighbors talking.  every couple of hours i find my eyes opening, checking the clock, marveling at how i'm so tired but can not remain asleep.  i'm not ready yet, my body says, but i finally decide the attempts to stay in bed are futile.

why haven't i slept, you ask?  i stayed up all night devouring the last book to 'the hunger games' trilogy.  i knew what i was in for when i brought 'mockingjay' downstairs after midnight so i wouldn't disturb my husband.  i would be losing enough sleep for the both of us.  at one point it was 1:44 a.m., and the next time i checked 3 hours had passed.  three hours?  confused, i thought i had misread, so walked straight up to the clock to read the numbers at close range.  yes, while i was wrestling to stay awake, breezing through the pages, skimming ahead because my need to know what would happen next outweighed my patience to wait to complete the paragraph, sometimes the words looking blurry and small because my eyes had watered over, other times reading passages over aloud because the meaning wasn't connecting to my brain, the time had ticked away unnoticed.  but i couldn't stop now.  i was far too invested.  so by almost 6 a.m., weary and surely somewhat delirious, the story at last concluded, i gave myself permission to crawl into bed with the characters and questions swimming in my head.

i'm almost positive they surfaced in my dreams last night.  lost in a world not quite my own, but with lasting effects.

BB-62

i surprised my husband today by taking him for a tour of the battleship NJ.  neither of us have ever been, but i knew of his interest in battleships as a piece of history, and although not overly interested myself, i was open to checking it out too.

i had a deal for 2 self-guided audio tours, so we hooked ourselves up and boarded the massive ship.  the tour started at the bow and then right up to a door that led inside via a narrow ladder.  first we saw living quarters, even being able to try out the bunks ourselves, noticed passages with live switches still (!), and then moved into the dining hall.  the tour looped us outside and back in several times, always by use of small ladders, and we found ourselves squeezing into spaces and ducking our heads, watching our feet especially.  i have no idea how people could live on these ships, let alone run this way and that during battle!  this particular battleship had been through WWII, the korean war, and the vietnam war.  there was a museum near the end of the tour (where hubbie set off one of the fake alarms) and we also saw a chapel, barber shop, print shop, dry cleaners, laundry room, and even the brig, which had 3 cells!  i was amazed by the size of the cafeteria and other places inside.

we happened to be on the tour the same day as a beer fest, so many of the exits were blocked off.  when we were searching for a permitted exit, i started feeling claustrophobic.  how could people do it?  i don't think i could have.  i had a newfound respect for our navy and many, many sailors at sea.

overall, it was an interesting visit and not a bad way to spend a saturday afternoon.

young at heart

i absolutely adored this video when i first saw it... this "old" couple is ridiculously cute!  thanks for reminding us how to be young at heart!

double rainbow all the way

i had dinner plans in the city with the girls tonight, so had to take the turnpike to hook on to take the dreaded expressway in straight from work during rush hour.  the temperature had dropped 20 degrees since the morning, dipping into the 50s according to my car's gauge, and it seemed like this affected the skies.  as the sun is setting earlier now, my drive was lit up by the brilliant shades of color, rues of pink and purple and blue.  once i exited to connect to the freeway, i saw it: the tailights and considerable back-up ahead of me, yes; but also a large, bright rainbow reaching up into the clouds.  it was quite distracting.  and as i drove around the curve, i noticed a second one, looking as if it was standing straight up.  it took me a few more seconds to realize that it was the same rainbow, the base of each end showing with the arch smothered by the puffy, pink clouds.

in that moment, the traffic wasn't unbearable.  i sighed in relief, feeling lighter.  happy.  how can you not smile when you see a rainbow?

i clung to that feeling of levity, of weightlessness as long as i possibly could.  i'm sure now it's what got me through the next hour of crawling to my destination.

and i know singing this song in my head helped too.

hand-me-downs

i talk alot with my hands.  they're constantly moving, especially when i'm presenting or heading up meetings.  most times i don't even know i'm doing it until i notice someone's gaze following my motions, and this slight recognition will make me check myself.

i was thinking today about where i picked up this habit, and concluded that it's another one of my dad traits.  he'll be waving his hands around when he's speaking, and moreso when he's really passionate about getting his point across.  i think it's natural to do this when you're trying to find the right word(s) to use.. for me, it's like physically pulling out what i want to say. 

more and more, i'm realizing how much my parents are really a part of me.

girl, interrupted

i was rummaging through some old boxes in our "junk room," which has recently traded places with our office that my husband graciously cleaned out.  i call it that because we shove all the unwanted crap from other rooms into that room to sort out later.  'later' being the operative word.  it's not quite hoarders material, but i still wouldn't let anyone cross the threshold if i had the choice.

anyway, i went in there looking for my arts & crafts box from my old apartment (and yes, i still haven't unpacked it although we're going on 5 years in our house) which i remembered had a box of blank cards that i needed.  partway into the box, i came across my diary from 2002.  i have not kept up with diaries in the past, but this one held a significant number of entries from a particular summer that i've decided to name "the summer from hell."

i read an entry, and then the next.  i couldn't stop reading.  who was this person? i thought.  it was as if i was reading the diary of a stranger, and almost felt wrong like i was spying on someone i didn't know.  some of the events, i remembered.. some of the names of people i wrote about, i didn't.  i cringed at certain parts and laughed at some others, wondering how i could be so naive, and let's face it, utterly obtuse.  dense.  gullible.

and the language!  i'm generally not a curser, but apparently nothing stopped me from writing anything on those pages.  one thing was for sure, i fed off emotion.  it was always at the surface, lurking beneath my skin.  i can't say that i am entirely different now, but at least restraint is in my vocabulary.

if, for any reason, and at any point, you doubt that you have changed, just go find an old diary or even an old box of junk to weed through.  seeing that glimpse of myself frozen in a moment of time was invaluable; mostly for the insight into who i am now, but also for the ability to say goodbye to the girl i once was.

i just felt like run-ning

after a 2-week break from running (an additional week to let my back heal and the next to avoid the hurricanes and subsequent flooding), i jumped back into it yesterday.  our regular path was closed due to the floods, so we went to the other path which is more open and heavily traveled by bikers.  i know because this is the path we ride our own bikes on.  we're not fans of this path for running since it does not have mile markers to tell us how far we've gone, and i for one do not like the sandy feel of the path itself.

now, my husband had still been running when i had not, so he had already finished the program and was running full 5Ks.  i hadn't finished out my 30-minute workouts week and the closer we got to where we decided to start our run, the more nervous i became.  i don't think i can do this, i said.  my husband assured me i could.

when we started out, i had to get used to the loose, gritty surface beneath my feet, not to mention all the leaves and sticks that had blown into the path.  but after awhile, it wasn't so bad.  i was enjoying it, and it felt good to run again.  about a mile or so into it (i'm guessing), i came across a giant puddle which covered the entire path -- ultimately unavoidable -- so i skirted around it as best i could, though unable to escape without soaking my shoes clean through.  soggy socks and shoes are not fun to run in.  but i kept going.

my husband has a system where he runs for half the time (in this case, 15 minutes), before turning around.  when i see him, it's my cue to turn around myself.  he then runs ahead and usually within the last few minutes turns back around to meet me where i am.  so i know by the time i catch sight of him on the way back, i'm almost done my workout.

so my husband passed me with 11 minutes left, and i told myself that if i could do 19 minutes, i could certainly finish it out.  on the way back i even splashed right through the puddles, not even caring to keep my feet dry.

as i was nearing what i thought to be the end (and the only way of telling was that i started feeling sluggish), i didn't see him.  so i kept on going.  turns out he had been waving to me but i had missed it.  according to him, i had run a total of 32:37 when i finally saw him flagging me down.  i stopped, red-faced and panting.  somehow i had run over my workout time, when i didn't even think i could make it for the full 30 minutes, period.

so if there's anything my body has gained from this training, it's stamina.  i'm sure of that now.

never forget

this is a poem i wrote about 9/11 in 2002.  my cousin was affected greatly by the attacks since she was in one of the buildings near the twin towers when the first, then second, plane hit.  one of the images she spoke of which stayed in my mind were the envelopes of unopened mail that were literally falling from the sky.  she had shown me a few of the pieces which she had picked up on the streets below, names unreadable, edges burned and yellowed, smeared in soot.  the smell of that day still lingered.  i will never forget that.

below the poem is a reflection from 9/11/08.  today's post will follow that.

"Untouched Mail"

United, we fell on a single day

A moment of terror sent our nation astray

For a city of traffic, pace, and routine

There was nothing – but death, and screams so obscene

Then there was silence, and whimpers of loss

Dual towers of greatness embodied lives as the cost

Inside there were people, now hostage to steel

Heat became so immense that their nerves couldn't feel

And just as each prayed, "God, don't let me die"

There was noise of a second machine in the sky

Steel gripping steel, metal within metal

The impact left screeches and murmurs unsettled

There were cries down below from debris up above

Now victims of ambush they blessed the ones whom they loved

Inhaled breaths of smoke, wiped the tears from their eyes

Said goodbye to their children, their husbands, and wives…

United, they died on that solitary day

Like the untouched mail on their desks, did they lay.

© Gloria Farng 1.16.02

=

NEVER FORGET.  The words are on the billboards, all caps, beside pictures.  Memorials, a moment of silence, a national holiday.  Flags are lowered, soldiers hand out tokens.  One day.  We give ourselves one day to mourn the ones we've lost, to hold onto the ones we haven't.  Each year passes and we move forward, only stopped when we print the date and remember – because it has become ingrained in our minds, that one day.  We stop.  We reflect.  That day forever changed us – instantly, simultaneously – yet we keep moving, keep living.

Let us remember every day counts, and those in our lives need constant reminders.

=

my sister and i exchanged our "where were you when.." stories of 9/11/01 yesterday.  i don't think i had ever heard hers, and i'm not sure she had ever heard mine. 

i was in college at the time, headed to a class i didn't want to be in, just a regular school day like all the others.  when i walked into the lecture hall and took my seat, what struck me was that many of the seats were empty.  it was particularly evident since the room could have easily held 200 students.  had the class been cancelled?  on top of that, the instructor was late, so i heard whispers from my other classmates.  something was not right.  my professor finally came in, but he made an announcement.  he said that a plane had crashed into the world trade center in new york.  it sounded like some freak accident, and i imagined it to be a small commuter plane.  class began. 

shortly afterward, a student(?) walked in and interrupted the class.  he exchanged a few words with the professor.  he left, and my professor addressed the few of us in the room.  "i just received word that a second plane crashed into the world trade center.  i am now hearing it was a terrorist attack.  class is dismissed, you can go home now."

the words didn't make sense to me.  a terrorist attack??  in new york?  i grabbed my belongings and walked out of the building.  i saw students huddled at corners, one group around a radio.  i took out my cell phone and called my mom, to see if she had heard from our family in new york.

now, 10 years later, i am grateful that i have a "where were you when.." memory.  many were not as lucky.  may we remember all those who gave their lives, along with their families, on that fateful morning a decade ago.

bejeweled

this afternoon my sisters and i took a beginner's jewelry-making class focused on wire work.  i never realized how much effort it took to create a loop or a wrap; i didn't even picture us using different kinds of pliers to do this.  i now have a much greater appreciation for jewelry.  it's crazy how so many things can easily go unnoticed.. until something opens my eyes.  i just hope my eyes are always open!

squeeze

best friends give the best hugs.

immersed

tropical storm lee blew through our area with a vengeance, bringing with him heavy rains and widespread flooding.  despite the extended news coverage this morning on school delays, road closures and accidents, i had a mission to make it to work.  after all, i had lots to do, and no weather-related disaster was going to stop me.

but mother nature had other plans.

i was 12 miles from work when it started.  a back-up.  a back-up so bad that i had inched forward only 1 mile in a full hour and an additional mile after sitting in a standstill for 2.  we were redirected off the highway to the closest route, which brought us to a small bridge that was flooded over by a stream.  it took me a few seconds to notice there were cars that were floating in the brown, mucky water, and realize why there was a traffic attendant there -- he was making sure each car could pass through the water in the road one by one.  after some time, i made it back to the highway that would bring me to the exit for the office, only to be met by barricades -- the main road was closed!  i backtracked and finally made it to work from the opposite direction, 3.5 hours later.

the office cleared out early, since most wanted to get a headstart going home before the second round of rain was expected to start.  i've said that i like my quiet time in the office, but today there was not a soul around downstairs after 5 p.m.  in fact, all the lights were off except for the emergency ones, so it was pretty eerie being there by myself.  i stayed for a couple more hours but then decided it was time to get a move on as well.

the highway was still closed on my way home, so it took another 1.5 hours until i was back in my neighborhood.  i've had quite enough driving (or rather, sitting in my car) today.

i could say that it wasn't worth it, or next time i'll just turn around and call it a day... but i can't.  and chances are, i won't.

tidbits

snippets of time in our hectic schedules.  words exchanged in fragmented conversations.  bits of our days we choose to share.  parts of the stories we choose to hear.  craving for affection, or is it for attention?  treasured moments carried in our pockets for safekeeping -- little assurances.  pulled out when they're needed most.  morsels of energy, warm on the tongue.  remnants of ourselves.  barely there.  stop.  remember.  just get through.

the pieces are all there.

rain, rain, go away

there was a single bright, yellow-auburn leaf plastered to my car's windshield by the rain when i got into my car this evening.  my wiper sweeped it to the side, and once i started driving, it blew away.  this tiny, inconsequential detail of my day struck me with a deep sadness that i could not shake.  what is it about rainy days that paint the world grey?

today i felt alittle like that leaf.  trying to glow bright too early in the season, not willing to wait.  broken from the core, attempting to escape, but the tears came and washed me into a wall, only to be blown away in the wind.

i pray that my sorrows can be washed away with this day.

time and time again

ah, 3-day weekends.  having an extra day to do all the things i can't get to on regular weekends.  but why do they seem so short?  they always feel as if they fly by faster than when we just have the 2 days.  i concluded that it must be because i'm convinced i have some leeway to fiddle about... and before i know it, i've done nothing but watch TV for a whole day.

so this time, i made sure to fill up my schedule with lots of activities.  except this made the weekend feel even shorter, since i was so busy.

it's weird, because you'd think that time is absolute... measured seconds, minutes, hours, days, etc... but in theory it is relative.  relative to those who measure it.

maybe next time what i need to do is throw my clock out the window and enjoy it.

to fear or not to fear

i am pooped.  i went white water rafting for the first time today.  my husband had gone before when he was younger, so it was the first time we went together.

we arrived at the base camp early (probably due to excitement), so we checked in, filled out our liability waivers, strapped on our life jackets, and waited until our color was called.  a tour member approached us and asked if we wanted to jump on the tour that was about to leave instead of waiting, so we decided we would (which is better since the longer i sat the more nervous i became).  instead of the lower gorge course we would be taking the upper gorge, and he assured us that it was similar with class 3 rapids.

once on the bus, one of our guides prepared us for what lay ahead.  he said we were on the narrowest, fastest course they offered, and the water would be good from hurricane irene last week.  the more he talked, the more jittery i was, telling my husband that we were supposed to go on the other course.  i suddenly felt i had jumped on the wrong bus.

at our starting point, a group of 4 quickly asked if we wanted to join them, so we did a round of introductions and climbed in our raft.  then it turned out that a couple was on their own, so the guide yelled out for any other parties of 2, so we paired up with them instead.  neither of them had rafted before either, so i felt better to have some inexperience on my side.

my sneakers were soaked within the first few minutes of takeoff, since we had to wade out into the water before scrambling onto our boat.  we went left around the bottom of a bridge since most of the others were going right, and found that it was already a struggle with the current.  the guide hadn't been kidding about that.  but once we were on, it felt manageable with our paddles.

we swiftly learned how to paddle and steer as a team, and before long we were whizzing by some other rafts like we were on crew or something.  we found that we rowed better backwards and typically ended up sideways, no matter how hard we tried to go straight.  but we also found that it was fun to hit the rapids from the side or from behind, when we didn't know what to expect.

the first time we got stuck on a rock (and i'm talking about some huge suckers), we did as the guide had told us (move to the other side of the boat away from the rock to loosen the raft from the culprit), and it worked without much fuss.  the second time, however, we were stuck by a sharp rock where our path split, and we were stuck good.  my husband got out of the boat to try to push us off and we paddled as hard as we could.  we got free, but the current pulled us downstream to the left (when we were told to go right).  we spun out of control, hitting rocks, trees, whatever we really could hit.  when we reached one of the guides (the one who had told us to go right), he said we'd missed the better rapids on the side.  i don't think any of us cared, since we had a good ol' time bouncing down the left.

it's amazing how calm the waters can be in some spots and how intense they can be in others.  we stopped for a 10-minute break to get some food in our bellies before taking off again.  the rest of the trip was harder since the areas we navigated were narrower and there were rocks pretty much everywhere.  we found that whenever there was a pool of water confined to one spot, it was a rock.  sometimes, depending on how we hit them we could spin off them, but other times they'd sneak up on us and we'd sail over them.

the one time we weren't so lucky was when we were behind another raft and couldn't avoid a boulder right there in the middle of the river (which we did not see since they were in front of us).  the other boat was able to skirt by, but we got stuck, and a 2-person kayak ran up the rock and in turn, was stuck between us and the rock.  then, to top that all off, another raft slammed into us, so we were a huge, messy pile, crammed all against each other.  and somehow in the middle of the chaos, my husband, the other guy in our boat, and the man in the kayak all fell into the water.  and just as soon as the current had pulled us into the obstacle, with some vigorous paddling we were able to catch the current and break free from our raft-kayak-raft collison.

with my husband finally safe in the boat and our other raft member saved by another boat, we made our way to the stopping point, a long hike back to the bus, and finally to base camp where some dry clothes were waiting for us.  i was so exhausted, i fell asleep on the 1-1/2 hour car ride home.

my shoulders, arms, wrists, and even fingers are sore now, so sore they almost feel bruised.  but it was all worth it.  and i'm glad we took the upper gorge, even though it scared me.  i feel like sometimes the most frightening things can turn out to be the most rewarding.

it is written

it's september, which means i'm in the homestretch of my year-of-blogging-every-day vow.  as i've been creeping into the final months, i've thought about whether my goal has served its purpose.  i've wondered what the whole point of all of it is.  and when a person starts having thoughts like that, it doesn't usually turn out well.

and then i opened up my fortune cookie yesterday to find this:

suddenly, i remembered all the reasons: capturing my days, moments big and small; writing them down so i'll have them always; and writing, just writing.. finding the words, finding my voice.

the help... helps

i spent the latter part of this week craving every free second i had to finish the help by kathryn stockett.  it was a story of 3 women set in mississippi during racial segregation in the 1960s.  it was a fictional account but included historical facts about the civil rights movement.  some of the events in the book were downright appalling to me, especially because i felt they had probably stemmed from true depictions of the time.  i would find myself immensely bothered, angry at some parts, close to tears the next, and then i would flip the page and laugh out loud.  it was a constant vacillating of emotions; and yet, i would go back for more.

the one quote that struck me (and apparently was the line which the author was most proud of, based on her final notes at the end), was this:

"Wasn't that the point of the book?   For women to realize, We are just two people.   Not that much separates us.   Not nearly as much as I'd thought."   

i recommend alot of books, but this is a must read.  you will be better for it. 

hairy situation

i was typing at my desk this afternoon when i felt a prickle on my arm.  i nearly jumped, thinking it was a bug crawling on my skin.  instead, i found that the ends of my hair (from my head) were actually touching my bent forearm.  i had managed to scare myself with my own hair!

it seems my hair is so long now it has a mind of its own.

must.  not.  cut.