the one about being in school and blah

I'm in this strange stage of life where I feel like I'm where I need to be with school and headed toward a career that I'm going to love but still feeling in limbo because I'm not working yet. It seems like most of my friends are in actual careers and kind of more like real adults. I'm married and I have two kids, but it doesn't seem very grown up to be in school. Still. Again. Whatever. But, things just take time sometimes. The first plan was to get into nursing school, complete the LVN program and then begin the RN program as soon as possible. I managed to pull off doing that immediately. At orientation for the Winter quarter on Thursday, I met some fellow RN students and when I was asked when I finished the LVN program and I said Monday, it startled people. In that good kickass way. I think there are four of us who were able to have the GPA to be admitted into this quarter of the RN program. That's not a dig on anyone who didn't make it. Some people chose to start in January and others had the GPA and everything but couldn't get it all coordinated with the various offices you have to go through to get started. I'm still proud though. I accomplished something good. I'm registered to take the state exam for my LVN license. I have some credits taken care of and am hopeful to knock three months off of my program.

I think that right now I feel like I don't have anything to show for my efforts. No one walks around taking manual blood pressures or giving injections or handling someone's body fluids. It would be awkward to carry my stethoscope around. I feel a little unsettled. I will be participating in my graduation ceremony but I feel a little silly inviting people to it (even though I already have talked to a few people) because it isn't a degree. I'm working on the first degree starting next week. And I have a long way to go to be a nurse practitioner. After this program, I'll likely do everything else online. But maybe I can have a party after the RN.

I would like to be in a place where I am happy and not feeling like I'm competing or have to justify where my life is with everyone else. That is super dumb because I am actually happy. I haven't felt this much like my genuine self in a long time. I feel smart again. I love my husband and I adore our children. Money is tight but not unmanageable. I think somehow it doesn't feel like it's enough compared to the people around me that were able to figure this stuff out just such a long time before I did. But how do you ever win when you're in a competition like that anyway?

the one about doing whatever i want

You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you write warmly about them, the should've behaved better. Anne Lammott

I stumbled across that quote on Pinterest one day. I censor myself so much in my online presence in order to not rock the boat too much or be too offensive or share too much. Sometimes it is really irritating. I have so many stories that I think if I shared could help other people know they're not alone in their frustrations or difficult situations. For awhile, I felt like I was a pretty good writer and sometimes I would like to use that gift to be entertaining or engaging. But I don't want to hurt people. And I don't want to hurt myself. I don't want to hurt my family.

The longer I am married, the more "my family" means me, my husband, and our children. It's the four of us that drives me to succeed in school so I can be proud of contributing to our finances. It's the four of us I think about when daydreaming about the future. Will we stay in Texas? Where will we go on our first vacation? Should we keep our crazy last name or change it to something else a little less challenging? Will the boys play sports or be writers or artists or all of that plus more? I adore the rest of my family but I don't really think about what my parents or my sister and her family are going to think about decisions that me and K make. And as far as my in-laws go, well, that quote pretty much sums up how I feel about that whole situation.

S is four and recently on a kick where he talks about how I can do whatever I want. I keep trying to explain that it's only kind of true. I'm an adult so it seems like I can do whatever I want, but there are consequences. My actions impact those around me and there are laws that need to be respected and all of those kinds of things. He doesn't understand any of it. I know that sometimes he thinks it's hard to be a kid. He has to go to bed even when it's still light outside (I hate daylight savings by the way) and doesn't get to watch all the tv he wants to and it really bothers him that the four of us don't just share one room. I think it is hard to be a kid. I think it's hard to be an adult, too. When I make decisions I'm trying to predict how things I do now are going to play out.

But sometimes, I am just tired of being nice and thinking about how my actions are going to impact those around me. I don't want to let people into my lane while I'm driving because it never seems like people let me in so why should I? And I don't want to be kind to assholes because they obviously don't care either way; they wouldn't act like that if they did. I don't want to keep all the birthday and anniversary dates and reminders on my calendar because a lot of those people don't do that for me so why should I for them? It's just sometimes that it all feels like a huge uphill battle.

I don't have any neat conclusion on this. But I know I want to teach my boys to be kind because the world really doesn't have enough kindness. I just need to strike a good balance between being honest and being kind. They are all my stories and I do think that if some people wanted me to think more highly of them then they should have treated me better. But maybe I don't need to share all of that with the world at large. Maybe sometimes silence is kind and still honest.

snippets

The thing about setting a countdown timer when I put S in bed is that he almost always stops crying before the time goes off. It's awesome because it is an actual measurement of time. For this mama, any period of crying that isn't actually measured seems to go on FOREVER.

If my car battery had to die a complete death, today was the perfect day. If my car had to refuse to start, doing so in a parking spot at a place was the perfect place for it to happen. I just put the baby in the stroller and booked it to my husband's store and we sorted it out. Lots of running around and I cannot believe what an amazing baby I have. And I only had to make one phone call to get some help getting K's car back to him! Satisfied sigh here.

I HATE COCKROACHES. HATE THEM. My house could be cleaner, but over all it's clutter more than trash. They are coming in from outside and K and I cannot figure out from where. And to be fair, it's been two over the past month but they are disgusting and huge and freak me out more than I like to admit. I am so much bigger than them and they don't even bite or anything. But still. They freak me out. I am hoping so hard I don't have a little boy who loves bugs and who will want me to hold his discoveries while he runs off to find more. Calling pest control again on Tuesday by the way.

I'm reading Bossypants by Tina Fey and I LOVE HER. I have for a long time anyway, but I am really enjoying her book. In a way I'm glad I can't really just sit down and devour it the way I used to devor books pre-baby because I'm forced to savor the pieces I can read. I like her style and I just like her. I wish I could be that cool. And funny. And pretty. Maybe it's a bit of a girl crush... Whatever, the book is awesome.

Finally got to catch up on some Oprah and really enjoyed the sit down with the Obamas. I caught his DNC key note address and have followed him since then. I like him as President. But if I could only sit and talk to one of them, I would choose Mrs. Obama with no hesitation. I have a lot of respect for her and the way she's handled things in general. Plus, I love her parenting philosophies. AND, she even told Oprah that she was wrong about her ideas of what her daughters should be expected to do! OPRAH! But yeah, S will probably be generally unhappy with the list of chores he will eventually be expected to do. But I too cringe at the thought of my teenager saying he's never cooked or done laundry. I want my kids to be productive members of society and God-seekers. I will do my absolute best to see both to fruition. I can only do so much, but I can certainly expect cleanliness and practice the ability to follow recipes with my kid(s)!


So that's what's been on my mind!

i have unanswered prayers

Yesterday I spent a good chunk of time at the apartment trying to get things boxed up so we can just be done already. We moved in with my parents three weeks ago I think and everything at the apartment should have been done already, but it's not. There's a tiny bit more to come to the house and then about one load of stuff to go to storage. I'm sick of it all and frustrated that it takes me so long to get anything real accomplished because I'm seven months pregnant and it is taking a toll on my body.

So at one point when I need (ANOTHER) break, I picked up an old journal and started skimming through it. I have a love hate relationship with journaling. I absolutely love it sometimes. I think it's inherently valuable for me to sit with blank paper and a pen and write and get thoughts out of my head on to paper. It helps me be able to concentrate on the actual tasks at hand much better because I either see how plausible it is to take care of or I get all the stupid worries circling my brain out on paper in front of me. I like having a record of things that have happened and I like to read them later and see how I handled the twists and turns of that time or what I was struggling with that is now easy peasy and everything in between. But I absolutely hate the thought of someone else reading them.

Most of my journals are the type that I would be embarrassed if someone I knew were to stumble across them and read from cover to cover. I have been relatively boy crazy since I was a teenager and a lot of my journals are heavy on analysis of what was really meant when a particular boy said something or did something. Embarrassing. My parents and I didn't get along super well while I was in high school especially (as is the case for a lot of people, I imagine) so several of those little notebooks I filled up included some not nice descriptions of what I thought of them. Embarrassing. And actually no longer existent.

There is one entire journal in particular though that I don't ever want anyone to read. That's the one I happened to pick up yesterday afternoon and read essentially from cover to cover. It is uncensored and honest about a bunch of situations that all happened to occur within roughly the same year and I was able to push out of my mind because I wrote all about it in a safe place. I set it aside yesterday and went back to packing and just thought about whether or not I should even keep it anymore. There are far too many good and memorable things recorded on those pages to destroy it just because I don't want anyone else to ever read it.

It's that kind of writing that inspires me to keep doing it. While I don't hope to face those kinds of circumstances ever again, I am proud of myself for making it through and being okay and for having a record of it. I don't necessarily want to have another journal that I am intensely afraid of anyone ever reading, but I do want another journal that is filled from cover to cover with absolute honesty.

This pregnancy has not been like other pregnancies I've heard about. In the beginning it was the diagnosis of high risk that threw me especially since it was coupled with so many doctor appointments and check off points. When I was first just dealing with the start of an unexpected (but very happily accepted) pregnancy that was also high risk, I searched for a book to read by someone who had been through the same thing. I have my fill of medical jargon and understand what is going on but I was hoping there was a narrative style book out there that I could read and not feel so alone. I still haven't found exactly what I was looking for. I decided to write out my story after I have the baby and see if it can help someone.

I think about writing a book that is as honest as my journals have been about everything I've faced during this pregnancy as a way to reach out and touch someone else who has done something similar or to encourage someone that they can face difficulties in their pregnancy because I did and I didn't know what the hell I was doing. It gets scary fast though because as comfortable as I am writing to an anonymous audience, the thought of my mom or grandmother or one of my aunts that I don't talk to much reading all of that about me makes my stomach ache.

There's so much we keep from each other. It's not just me and not just because I'm pregnant right now. I think we all have a small collection of people we are completely honest with at all times and then there's everyone else who we dish out carefully selected snippets of information to. I'm not condemning that because I don't think it's necessarily appropriate for me to answer the question "How is your day going?" with "It'd be so much better if I could just have a really good poo session." even if that is the absolute truth. At the same time though, my sister has three kids, several of my friends have kids, and no one EVER mentioned to me that constipation could be such a huge part of pregnancy. Maybe I could have used that information at the beginning and maybe it doesn't make that much of a difference.

The title comes from the first line of the song "Your Hands" by JJ Heller and it's practically my anthem right now. A lot of people have identified with it as being an encouragement because someone close to them died. I first heard it as I was nervously driving to my first WIC appointment to see if I would be able to enroll and I just sobbed. The song made me feel as though there was someone else out there who had faced a rough situation and didn't have any answers or practical advice but could say she wasn't actually alone while she was facing things and that was the biggest thing I needed.

The idea of being able to write out my experiences as a high risk mama to be with high blood pressure, probable depression, a new husband, and no money gives me the courage to plod along with more confidence. Maybe I can write it all down, edit it, and offer it to someone else who needs to know she isn't alone.

I still don't want anyone to ever read that particular journal.

tired and grumpy may not be the best time to post a blog

I am tired of a bunch of stuff. This cold that appears and disappears and then reappears for one is really getting on my nerves. I suppose that points to it being allergies rather than a cold but I take medicine that up until the past couple of weeks has worked quite well and I simply do not have money to go to the doctor right now. So there's that.

At work I answer the phone "(Name of Department), it's Melissa." 8 out of 10 times the first thing the person on the other line says is "Who is this?" Realizing I could perhaps be saying everything quite quickly and not realizing it sounds like mush, I will slowly repeat my name. This is all reasonable until the other person then says "Oh hi, Rosa (or Elsie, or Lisa, or Laura)" or if the entire reason they were calling was to get our fax number. What does my name have to do with the fax number?

I guess I lost my mind a little when I was apartment hunting and decided a first floor place was the way to go. Next lease has got to be a spot where no one is living above me. Maybe a house. Sometimes I just sit in the living room and try to match the moving about pattern with a picture in my head and lately it mostly seems to go with someone starting at the front door and hopping back and forth. And what is the deal with the vacuuming every day? I usually vacuum once a week (more if the floor warrants it of course). The only time I've ever vacuumed daily was once when I was about thirteen and I got in trouble for something and that was part of my punishment, vacuuming every day.

I am tired of being a flake but I can't seem to stop. Once upon a time if I said I was going to be someplace or do something, it was considered almost worrisome if I was late. Now, I'm not sure anyone completely believes me when I say I'm going to do something for them. I hope they at least believe I MEAN to follow through because I truly honestly do, but what happened? How did that switch get flipped and how do I flip it back?

My blood pressure is high, I have acid reflux, and I use a heating pad almost daily to ease back aches. I honestly believe all of these issues would be helped if not completely alleviated by weight loss. So why can't I just do it? Why can't I just choose better foods, do work out videos, cut out caffeine again, and make it happen? If I lost 100 pounds, I would look amazing. If I lost 30 pounds, I could buy much cuter clothes and probably put the heating pad away. Either scenario is possible and within my reach as long as I stay dedicated. When I see pictures of myself, I see an overstuffed couch. That right there should be enough, and then factoring in the health issues, seriously, what is my deal?

I used to LOVE the Post Secret web site and looked forward to seeing new postcards every Sunday. Now I still check the site every week but the fact there are so many books and the touring and whatnot is all kind of a turn-off. It was cooler when it was a random art project instead of a source of great income for the site creator. Good for him, I guess, and it was a great idea. I'm still growing disenchanted I suppose.

My dear friend Kate, aka Splenda, recently reminded me that when she first met me I told her I knew myself very well. I don't know what happened to that confidence. I'm not sure where my list making went and the last time I wrote in my personal handwritten journal was February. Despite this grumpy blog entry, I am mostly happy in my day to day life. So what happened to the knowing myself, the lofty goals, the determination to DO something and BE someone?

No more big breakouts please. A zit here and there is fine, but do they have to be so huge? I'm 28. That fact should overrule existence of acne. It just should.

I'm running out of steam, so back to bed I go. Wish me luck on getting through my Friday at work!

sometimes finding the truth is easier than facing it

That's the tag line for the movie In the Valley of Elah. K and I watched it today and I was fairly blown away. I didn't know much about it and wasn't really interested in seeing it, but K's stepmom picked it for everyone to watch today and I have to say, I'm glad she did. It's a war movie, but not in the typical sense. It's an after coming back from fighting in the war movie. It's disturbing because the film highlights how being in Iraq can change people and make them do things they never would have before and think about things in ways that would have been previously unacceptable but doesn't even hint at a way to address it or fix it or anything at all. I'd put this movie in the same category with The Kingdom and Lions for Lambs in that it makes you stop and think and then want to sit and cry because we are in so deep into a problem that spans so many facets that fixing it seems impossible. If I had a flag, I would be tempted to start flying it upside down myself.

work work work

It's been a pretty good week. I worked a little extra and am hoping to get some serious extra hours next week. The paycheck I got today was really small because I was on call for four days and took two more days off during that pay period. I only had 6 hours of vacation time which definitely didn't cover it all. At least I knew it was coming so I didn't throw up when I opened up my check. Rent is paid, the cell phone bill is paid, and there's enough for car insurance which is the next big debit. I just need some more hours so I can save up to move to a new place (application fees, deposit, first month's rent overlapping with my last month's rent in my current place) and pay off some bills. I'll try not to be too quiet on here though while I work as much as I can.

Something clicked for me at work this week and I feel like I'm actually really good at what I do and I kinda like it. Something I'm trying to do this year is enjoy where I'm at. So much of the time I am running at super speed and trying to do a few things at a time and it seems like I'm missing out on a lot by living that way. Instead of being at work and thinking that in a few years I might have a really kickass job that I love waking up to go do and get paid way more money than I do now, I'm deciding to like what I do right now. I like everyone I work with except one person and that is certainly a good environment to be in. My boss is fantastic and my job is kind of important. So it was nice to be at work this week.

california dreamin'

Today I was discussing Christmas plans with my mom and I realized it's been a year since I was last in California. My mom and I flew out so she could help my grandmother get ready for and then recover from her surgery and I flew out just as a surprise. We whisked Grandmommie off to San Francisco for the day and it was just all a really great trip.

When the semester was about to start, I realized that I had never been to college not in Riverside and it made me miss the landmarks I know there. I miss my friends, but over the years I have come to realize long distance friendships work as long as you keep in touch. It was more the donut place open 24 hours and the perfect spot to get hot and sour soup. The drive I could take up Central that would make me feel better because it was all wind-y and had lots of palm trees and I could take Victoria back to my apartment with the window down and inhale all the blossom scented air.

Next month marks my second year of living in San Antonio and I'm mildly surprised (although pleasantly) that it feels so thoroughly like home. I know short cuts to places and have even introduced others to cool restaurants. My family is here and that's why I came in the first place, but I've somehow managed to put roots down in a place I swore I'd never live and am enjoying my attachment. Part of it is K, but that's not all of it. I like the place I work and I think my apartment is fantastic.

Sometimes I am very frustrated about college and finishing my degree and finding money and time for it and wish I had just been able to motor through and finish my degree when I first started it. But the journey has been good despite all the roadblocks I basically set up for myself. It's led me to San Antonio and things are pretty good here.

Who would've thunk it?

okay so i already messed the post a day thing up

I didn't actually really do anything I had meant to this weekend. I didn't study, clean up very much, take care of some things for K, or finish traffic school online. I did sleep, be very itchy because my stupid bandaid rash isn't gone yet, and spend excessive time with K which included going to the movies and watching Grey's Anatomy. It wasn't a bad weekend by any means, but it wasn't as productive as I meant it to be.

I got a price list in the mail from the college I was thinking of going to next semester and I simply do not know how to do this. There's so many things that I will have to fight through to go to school next semester and it makes my stomach hurt. I will owe a tremendous amount of money by the time I graduate. I guess that's just true for everyone, but it's rotten. I don't think there's any other way to really do it. I'm doing scholarship searches and there are some feasible options there, but everything I have found is a few hundred dollars. I don't mean it's not worth it, because it really is, but it's still kind of a drop in a giant bucket.

I have to keep working full-time to be able to live on my own. I'm taking two classes right now that aren't especially involved and it's really hard. I can't keep taking two classes at a time because it will become even more ridiculously expensive and irritating that way. But, how am I going to do with four classes while working at least 40 hours a week? I think the degree is worth it because although I like my current job, it's not going to be something I can happily do in the longterm. There's not enough personal fullfilment in being a secretary and it's not enough money to support my hope of having kids and them knowing what the beach is like. More than the money though, I want a job that I am excited to have, not just a job that is tolerable and has moments of enjoyment in it. A degree doesn't guarantee that, but it opens up a lot more possibilities at least.

I'm going to figure out how to make it all happen, but I'm just not sure exactly how today. So I guess I'll just go to work, study a little, and clean my apartment for reals when I get home because for whatever reason it really makes me feel better to walk into a clean living room.

sometimes i feel like a big whiny baby but i can't always help it

Last weekend my boyfriend and I went and hung out with another couple. I like to do stuff as a couple with other couples because it barely ever happens. My very favorite other couple now lives in El Paso and another couple we had dinner with is very cool but I don't know them very well and feel odd about inviting them over to my place or something at this point. Maybe in another week. And after I finish hardcore cleaning up my apartment.

This particular other couple that we spent time with last weekend presents a unique and awkard situation for me that I don't feel comfortable writing too many details about here. I ended up drinking way too much and then puking even more and that is why I am going to stick to a two drink limit (with three on special occassions, MAYBE) from now on. I always hear about other people getting drunk and being all zany and the life of the party but I just get sick. This was the third time in my life and I really feel like three times is enough to fully learn the lesson.

The thing about the night that has stuck with me the most though through the week was the fact I don't really have any friends in San Antonio besides my boyfriend. K is completely fantastic, but no one can survive with their significant other alone and be healthy. We played video games, drank tequila, and watched part of a kung-fu movie. These are not awful things by any means, but they are not thing I would put on a list of a fun weekend activity. I tried, really hard, to have a good time and be a fun part of the evening but it was difficult. And the thing that was most difficult was that I can't say "Well, that was cool. Next weekend can we go hang out with some of my friends?" I don't have any. Not in San Antonio anyway.

I don't know how to fix it. I feel so unsure of myself these days and there are times when I don't want to talk about those kind of things with my boyfriend. I can talk to my parents because they are fantastic, but sometimes when things are tougher than I would like them to be, I want a good female friend I can go to La Cantera with and walk around while we pretend we are rich and decide what to spend our fake money on. Or go sit at a coffee shop and talk about everything and nothing. Or get cocktails and dessert. Or have a Sex and the City marathon complete with cosmopolitans and pizza rolls.

I don't know how to do this. I met K and started dating him so soon after moving here that I uninentionally skipped over really getting to know the city and meeting a bunch of random people. I don't regret the timeline because K is a really wonderful man and I love him tremendously. I'm just now at a point where I don't know how to spend as much time with him as I would like, still work, go to school and get good grades, and spend time with my family. I feel a little lost and maybe the most difficult piece of that is not even knowing how to find my way again.

I guess that's about it. I haven't had much time to sit and write things for other people to read lately, but I'm working on getting back into the regular posting game. It's time to go put some more hydrocortisone cream on various ant bites. Stupid bugs!

the jena 6

Jena 6 Protesters Rally at Lousiana Town

I have to read the newspaper daily for one of my classes. The point really is to get us into the habit of knowing what's going on in our city, state, country, and the world and to be able to have intelligent conversations about current events with other people. There was a big fat article in the newspaper the other day about how college graduates don't know anything about fairly recent national events which irritated me because instead of implying we should do something about it, the article said that we're all in good company. I don't want to be in ignorant/naive company.

Anyway.

This story really got my attention today and I was glad we spent a good amount of time talking about it in class. About a year ago, six black high schoolers made sure they had school permission to choose to hang out under a particular tree. The school officials said they could hang out wherever they wanted to. Before that, a group of white high school boys had been hanging out there before and after class. The day after the black students congregrated under the tree, they came back to school to see three nooses hanging from the branches. I'm not sure on the timeline, but a few months later the six black students were arraigned for battery because one of the white students had been beaten. The student who was beaten went to a school function later that night and to another party the next night, so although it was serious, it wasn't life threatening enough to keep him from his social life. Yes, I'm biased here.

Today, 50,000 people descended on the town of Jena (population 3,000) to march in protest of the final student still being in jail. The other five had been released on bail. Some of the charges have been dropped or lowered in their severity for all six students.

I grew up in Nothern California and then moved to Southern California for college. I didn't grow up in this kind of environment. I remember being horrified when I learned about Martin Luther King Jr. and what he died doing. I thought it was ridiculous that such a movement was needed. The Bay Area is a pretty diverse population and my parents were really good about raising my sister and I with open minds and an appreciativeness for diversity.

Watching the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina showed me how little has been actually done as far as civil rights go. Racism, discrimination, and the like are alive and well. I'm glad that 50,000 people descended on a small town to protest this fact and to help some real people. The black boys weren't in the right and should probably be punished, but to be tried as adults after some white boys hung nooses where they had been hanging out the day before seems ridiculous.

My teacher asked us today what we think we'll have to face from Iraq in about fifteen or twenty years. The reason racism is so alive and well after all the progress we've made in the law books is because although it's illegal to act on the hatred, parents still pass their mindsets on to their children. So what will the little children in Iraq grow up thinking about Americans? Will their parents share the vision that has been touted in the media about it being Operation Freedom or will they remember all of the bombs and social structures being destroyed? Will they think it was better when Saddam Hussein was in power or when the Americans swooped in and things changed so radically?

It's a lot to think about. And it makes me want to take about ten more classes that have something, anything to do with political science and history.

thinking on a thursday

Lately I've been taking stock of where my life is at and deciding what I like and what I don't. I realize the typical person does this in December to get ready to make New Year's resolutions, but I always feel like it's more of a fresh year in August because that's when my birthday is. I love my birthday. I don't anticipate that ever really changing. I don't expect EVERYONE to make a big deal out of it, but as long as I get to do something to mark the occassion, I'm a happy girl.

I've been trying to think of some small goals that I can meet relatively quickly, some medium goals that will instigate some life changes, and some long term goals that may take working on all year to accomplish. The point isn't so much to be able to cross every thing off my list but to try. In the past I've discovered that a goal that sounds great at the beginning isn't entirely feasible and other ideas may pop up as I go along.

I like who I am and how I look, for the most part. Both need improvements though and that's what I'm thinking about these days.

while i'm waiting for my room to cool down...

Even when he is part of the turmoil I am trying to sort out in my mind, just sitting and talking with K makes my heart calmer. There is something about the way he loves me and believes in me, just in general, that is a great comfort even when all we are talking about is whether or not it's okay for girls to fart in public and the difference between chicken nuggets, strips, and pieces. When he takes my hand to trace my fingers with his own or plays with my hair, something in me knows what we have is very good and I just understand this again without having to really think about it.

I think there are times for making lists and seeing pros and cons right in front of you. But I think there are other times for just trusting a feeling you've got deep inside you.

melissa and deanna day and then some rambling. it's not nearly as cool as her entry was. :)

Tuesday was Melissa and DeAnna Day.

Nine years ago as we were getting ready to graduate from high school, DeAnna and I were talking on the phone about where life was going to take us next. I think at the time she was fairly content with the city in Nrthern California we lived in and I had a ridiculous case of wanderlust. I was moving to Southern California for college but figured I'd go overseas again soon after that. We decided to designate June 5th as a day where we at the very least talked on the phone and caught up, if not spent the day doing something together.

For the past few years, we've been fortunate enough to manage to be in the same spot and do something fun. Two years ago it was her husband's 30th birthday at the end of the month so I was there to help decorate for the surprise party she threw and hang out with her a little before her baby was born. Last year it was good times in Sacramento again with some mani/pedi action, the movies, and The Cheesecake Factory for some lemon drop martinis. This year though, the states between us finally actually got between us and we just managed to have a lovely phone chat. But that's really the point, that at least that much happens.

I'm so blessed to have her in my life. I remember being friends with her in the fourth grade but we became really close during our senior year of high school. Sometimes we talk a few times a week and know every little thing going on and other times we chat here and there and just keep up with each other by reading our MySpace pages. But she is someone I can count on to be there and it is awesome to me to know she'll be there for the big events in my life.

I had been thinking about this a little lately, and then DeAnna mentioning that it had been nine years kind of sped up the process. My life is very different from what I had imagined it was going to be back when I was seventeen. That isn't necessarily a bad thing, but it is kind of weird.

My mom got married when she was nineteen and I guess I just thought that was the norm. Plus I was going to a school that was nicknamed the bridal college because so many people get married by the time they graduate. I didn't, obviously. I didn't even finish my degree. I never went back overseas but spent a lot of time moving back and forth between Southern and Northern California and now am in Texas of all the random places I could have gone.

I've made some mistakes and there are choices that maybe if I had chosen the other option things would be very different for me now, but I'll really never know. Every time my mind wanders down this road, it's not very long before I realize that all of my choices and mistakes have made me who I am today and have brought me to where I am as well.

I was talking to K about this on Tuesday and he pulled me close to tell me that he's felt the same way but he's so glad that the choices and mistakes and surprises in his life have brought him to this point where he and I are together. That is truly fantastic because it is exactly how I feel too.

thinking on a thursday

Earlier this week, one of my friends had this huge conflict with her boyfriend because of her diary. She went to spend the weekend at her parent's house and her mom had found an old diary of hers and she went through it and found it to be hilarious. She has another more recent one that she writes in sporadically and her boyfriend ended up reading it and being angry and hurt because there wasn't much written about him, especially compared to other guys from the past. She just doesn't write in it as much as she used to and has this completely different way of noting important events in her life. It's one of those things where I can understand him being upset, but he should have listened to her a little more clearly when she tried to explain why she didn't think it was a good idea for him to read the more recent diary.

But it all made me start thinking and looking at my stack of journals. I've been writing for a very long time. I am not a very consistant writer but have always found value in getting my thoughts out on paper. Often times the good times are not recorded or contemplated as thoroughly as the rough times are simply because the good times are not as stressful or overwhelming to the point of emotional paralysis. The best way I can start to get myself to feel unstuck is to start writing things down.

My handwritten journals are for me. I start writing without background information, I stop in the middle of a line of thinking, I cuss, I underline and circle things, I am sometimes ugly. I am sometimes ridiculously giddy over something that may mean absolutely nothing to anyone else and obsess over things that even I at the time know are ridiculous. But I write with the assumption that no one else will ever read what's in there and maybe that's not an entirely safe assumption. I don't know.

My boyfriend is a writer and he keeps journals. I get tHe impression (but don't know for sure) that he writes even more sporadically than I do. I think it's a therputic thing for him as well but there are just times when he doesn't want to sit and think about things. There have been times when I would have loved to read through his writings anyway though, just to know what he thought was important enough to be actually putting on paper. But it's not fair for me to ask him to share that with me when I am not willing to share mine with him.

So that's what I've been thinking about. Do I continue to write simply for myself and do my best to not let anyone else ever read it, or do I open myself up a little more to at least K?

I don't know.

i don't know what i'm really trying to say

I've been thinking a lot about Christianity these days.

I believe in God. I've worked in two churches. I'm techincally a licensed minister although these days I'm not sure exactly what that means and if it means anything in Texas since that all happened in California. I do have a lovely frame for the certificate and also for the little bulletin from the service. And it was a pretty cool time in my life.

I went to a Christian college and that is mostly what did me in as far as turning me off to church for the past few years. Maybe I wasn't around the right group of people or didn't plug into the right church (except the one I did try very hard to get involved in has tons of people who rave about how awesome it is, so I don't know. And when I say I tried very hard, I really mean it. I volunteered in a bunch of different roles and met with pastors and had coffee with people and it just didn't take for some reason), but most of the Christians around me made me miserable. It was embarassing to hear the questions my classmates asked guest speakers in my behavioral science classes about why they didn't impose their beliefs on patients and clients. I was mortified to hear people praising God they don't live in awful parts of the world. It was frustrating to be around students who knew nothing of what was going on in the rest of the city, different parts of the state, and much less the world. I quickly found that even when it came to mundane things I needed help with, like getting a ride to the airport, it was a much better bet to ask someone from Starbucks than it was to ask someone from church or school. I could count on the people from Starbucks to follow through ridiculously more than I could count on the Christian friends I had.

This isn't true of all Christians or even of all Christians I know. I have two friends in particular that I've known for ages and ages that have strong beliefs in God that they display even when no one is paying attention. They are great examples to me of faith and commitment and each have strong marriages and beautiful babies. I have another more recent friend that is a Christian and one of the very best friends I've had. I can talk to her about anything without fear of judgement and I know she's there for me in all senses of the phrase.

I've noticed that the people who are vocal about being Christians at work are all fairly obnoxious. One is probably the biggest complainer I know. I've never seen this person having a good day. Another has their heart in the right place but is often so abrasive and weird about counting on Jesus for everything that no one takes them seriously unless they are talking about the Spurs. Another is just kind of dumb and rude and a different person is nice enough but doesn't really stop talking long enough to let anyone really connect with them.

And here I am. I don't go around telling people I'm a Christian because I know that at this point in my life that would probably do more harm than good. I have struggles and I drink and my boyfriend doesn't go to church and I have a kind of potty mouth and I don't display any kind of serious hope or calmness or inner peace. I believe in God but haven't talked to Him in awhile really and I haven't been to church in a year or so. Some things have happened that left me questioning where God really is. Things in the rest of the world, but also events in my own life.

I listen to KLOVE on a fairly regular basis because I do like some of the music on the station. It's the only Christian radio station I know about in this area. I have my own fairly extensive collection but my iPod being broken for so long kind of killed my habit of listening to it in my truck. I also used to have to drive a lot further to get to and from home and it doesn't seem worth the hassle to pick an artist and get it all set up and listen to my iPod for ten minutes and then put it all away. Anyway, KLOVE is one of my presets but I never listen to it if someone else is in the car because it embarasses me. Not that I listen to it, but the cheesiness of some of the djs and the ridiculousness of the pledge drive commentaries. People calling in and winning a contest and then saying prayer really does work and the proof is they were the 9th caller this time annoy the shit out of me. But I still listen because every so often, there's a good Superchic[k] or Jars of Clay song that comes in and brightens my day. I don't want to be one of the Christians that I hear on that radio station though.

I've been thinking about church and that I want to go back to the one I went to for awhile here because it was pretty cool. I haven't made that a priority over sleep with the overnight shifts I've been working since January but now I don't have that to keep me from going or to use it as an excuse. My mom told me last weekend I needed to start going to church again. She's right. She wants me to have a group of Christian women friends I can talk to and hang out with and learn from and share life with. I do too. I don't have many friends actually in San Antonio and church is a good place to work on that. There are times when I think I am seriously going crazy and if I had some more spiritual development going on I think it would curb at least a healthy portion of those times.

K's dad took off when he was a little kid. He's still around here and there but hasn't been any kind of a real part of K's life in several years. I'm not entirely clear on all the details, but there was a church involved in K's dad meeting another woman who he eventually left K's mom for. Despite this though, K has no problem with me going to church and a Bible study. He will even go with me once I've found a church home. My parents had an agreement when they got married that my mom would never force my dad to go with her as long as he never kept her from going to church and that seems like a very good deal to me. I never meant to start dating someone who didn't have the same set of core beliefs that I do. I don't think K is that far off though. I think he believes in God but that's about it and quite honestly, that's where I've been at for the past few years.

I need to find a place that has Christians who are real people and admit they are struggling (I don't necessarily need to know the struggles, but just that they aren't perfect) and working towards being better people. A group working to be better examples of Christ's love without speaking a different language or expecting all Christians to only listen to Christian music or get their books only at Christian book stores. I want to be involved in politics and just generally try to make the world a better place to be alive in and I want to do that with Christians. And I want to laugh and cry and offer support and recieve help and have female friends I can hang out with here and there.

So that's what I'm looking for, starting this weekend. I haven't decided what service I'm going to, but I am going to the church I went to last year and seeing if that's going to be a good fit. If you're so inclined, pray for me. And for K to follow through on that conversation we had several months ago that he'd come with me sooner rather than later.

...

How do you survive the Holocaust but not teaching college?

just thinking

I've been thinking about death a lot lately. Not because I'm depressed or because anyone close to me has died recently. Mostly it's been on my mind because I've been watching Six Feet Under. Someone dies in every episode. Often the dead person appears to the living and interacts with them in some way or another. It's a brilliant show for the way it displays how people's imaginations can work for and against them, but also completely bizarre and most likely offensive to the majority of the people who at least read this blog.

I'm not particularly afraid to die. What I do worry about is what kind of impact that will have (or not have) on those around me. Sometimes when I'm writing in my journals I worry about the wrong person finding them and reading them. Some of them have written records of things I don't want anyone else to know about ever. Some of them have things I wrote in anger as I vented to myself about a situation or why a person was frustrating me and I don't really want them to know I ever thought those kinds of things about them. Some of them make me look retarded because of the things I wrote about being worried by and how ridiculously dramatic I can be. So I worry who is going to come across them and read every word. But I keep writing...

Today one of my co-workers was telling me how ovarian cancer runs in her family so she had her DNA tested to see if she had the genetic marker that would put her in the category of being 90% likely to get cancer instead of the general population 3% likely to get cancer. She was telling me how I should do it too because my insurance would totally cover it. My grandfather had Alzheimer's and sometimes I worry about my dad having it too later on. If he has it, I wonder how likely I am to have it. I know they are getting closer and closer to being able to predict who will have Alzheimer's.

I don't think I want to do the tests that show what kind of predisposition I have. They aren't 100% accurate which means I could easily be lulled into a false sense of security or be panicked into thinking I will die of a specific cancer or have some sort of other degenerative disease. I think I would rather do my best to be healthy, do the medical screening everyone is supposed to do to be on top of things, and make decisions from there.

Mostly I just hope I can live my life in a way that I will be missed when I am gone and that I will have as few regrets as possible.

this is your life, are you who you want to be?

Last week or the week before was particularly rough, for a lot of reasons that I simply will not go into here. I had a tough conversation with K that we needed to have and we both had things we needed to talk to each other about. One of the things I needed to tell him was that he was driving me crazy by asking me when I was going to be in school and why I wasn't right now so on and so forth. I explained why I wasn't and then he explained why he's been asking me, and he was absolutely right in it being kind of a big issue.

I can't just jump into school right this second unless I do University of Phoenix, but I just have this uneasy feeling about it that I can't shake no matter how much I talk to admissions or read stuff online from former students and it's also very expensive. But, his whole thought process behind it made me start really thinking about a lot of things and I've been trying to do the stuff I've been meaning to do for awhile.

So far I have:
-Gotten my hair cut (trimmed, whatever).
-Taken out my belly button ring (which has left a giant hole that isn't necessarily cute, but oh well I suppose).
-Found out the dates for summer session and am checking back every few days to see if I can register yet.
-Cut back on snacking at work (mainly Starbucks overnight shifts, but sometimes I snack at my other job because I need a break from just sitting at a computer) as phase one of getting into shape.
-Came up with a plausible work-out plan to start later this week.
-Curbed random spending and came up with a way for this trend to continue.
-Deposited extra money into my seperate savings account ($20 from my Sbux paycheck automatically goes in there already, which is better than nothing but I could do better if I just paid more attention to what I'm spending on).
-Am working on getting up earlier to curb morning time grumpiness from having to rush around and be around a lot of cars on my way to work.
-Spoken up for myself a little more at work (asking that one nurse to please call me Melissa instead of Mel)
-Got my mom a birthday present (it was in December! She wasn't here, but still, how embarassing)
-Reserved some books at the library (it's like setting up a movie que for books but it's free!)
-Went to see a counselor.
-Took a few days off from both jobs to sleep in, spend time with K, and write in my journal. This is most assuredly a rare luxery, but it was needed at the time and I had the courage to speak up for myself to make it happen and am ridiculously glad I did.

Some stuff I still need to do:
-Orgainze and clean out my music and movie collection.
-Organize and clean out my closet. It is seriously out of control.
-Figure out a good way to stay on top of keeping my apartment clean. A schedule? Just being better about cleaning as I go? It's not that it's a disaster, it's just that I'm lazy and can't really take entire days to clean it from top to bottom like I did a month-ish ago.
-Plan out meals and snacks that are better for my health and better for my budget. I've made some good steps in the right direction, but I have a ways to go.
-Take a weekend off to spend time with K doing nothing.
-Think about seeing a doctor for my back.
-Make another appointment with a counselor as more of a maintenance thing.
-Go to school, have a plan for graduation, and look at graduate programs.
-Figure out what to do about my jobs. Do I just stay where I'm at? Do I keep one and quit the other? Do I scrap both and find a new one or two? How do I decide?

Now, to be clear, K didn't ask me to do all of this or insinuate that I have a lot of stuff I really need to work on in order to be good enough for him. He just made me realize that I've been meaning to do an awful lot of things that I have pushed aside for no apparent or good reason. This is my life, and how it is right now is not entirely what I want it to be. I am not who I would like to be. I've got some good pieces in place, but instead of stopping there, I need to fit the rest of them in as well.

so what have you been thinking about lately?

I remember the first time K asked me this, I answered with something trivial, and he was really asking me about what I was really thinking about. The way in which girls stereotypically ask. I was pleasantly surprised to realize that when I don't share enough of what is running through my head, what I'm contemplating and working through, he will ask me to tell him what I've been thinking about. Throughout our relationship, I have been amazed by how genuinely interested he is in me. That probably sounds kind of dumb, but the thing is that with all the guys I've dated or been close friends with, not many of them have made me feel like they are intently paying attention to me, what I'm doing, and who I am. I realize that is narcissistic. At the same time though, I pay fairly close attention to my friends. Through the years I have come to expect that those around me will not know my middle name or favorite color or favorite play list at work even though I will often know that kind of information about them. One of the ways K stands out in my life is he knows these kinds of things about me.

If I idly tell him about an idea I have for a project, he'll ask me questions and then later on will ask me where I'm at on making it happen. We often just get one soda to share at the movies and the other day he just handed it to me before I had a chance to ask for it. He can tell when something is bothering me, sometimes before I've even figured out exactly what it is. He's one of a handful of people who hasn't tried to figure me out, but has just let me be me. Sure, sometimes I annoy him or frustrate him, but that happens with everyone.

So, what have I been thinking about lately? I'm one of the luckiest and happiest people I know. I accidently met a man who changed my life for the better when I was least expecting it. When he looks at me, I feel beautiful. I've never known love like this before. I hope everyone gets to have at least one person they can just completely be themselves around and feel appreciated and loved for it because it is fabulous.