Summer Days

It is so hard to consistently write in here when it is so beautiful out side and there is so much to do.  If I lived some place always hot and beautiful, I might never write again.  Maybe winter and cold rainy days serve the purpose of causing the angst and discontentment needed to write.  I'd like to believe they do, in fact, serve some purpose. 

Since words are failing me, I'm just gonna post some pictures of summer.

After 2nd Convention Day
At the Pool (We had our District
Convention last weekend in Kennewick.)

Soaking up a little Sunshine.

 

Kiddos burning some energy up after
sitting and listening so well all day.

Big Beautiful Strawberries(from the little patch in my backyard)

My Little Vege Garden

Flowers and Herbs

Strawberry Patch

Kloe and Her Baby

Jessy

 



Jessy's Dog Momma, Gertie, right before we brought Jessy home.

 Kloe has been doing such a good job taking care of Jessy.  It hasn't been easy for her either!  Usually summer has a lot of sleep-in days for her, but since Jessy moved in, Kloe gets up a couple times a night to let her go outside and she has to get up early for potty/breakfast/puppy playtime.  Not that all of this has happened with zero whining, but it has been fairly minimal.  Like I said, she's doing a good job.

Circuit Assembly Weekend

We had such a nice weekend.  It was circuit assembly time.  Such great talks- the weekend went way too fast.  Great reminders- things I needed to hear and think about.  I get so upset about the world sometimes, both on a personal level and a global scale.  It's good to be reminded about why things are the way they are.

Got to see so many friends.  Wish we all lived closer and had limitless time to just get to hang out together.  I love being able to look around the auditorium and realize that I really know and love these people.

Dad spent the weekend with us.  This was the first assembly without Mom... well, I guess that isn't true.  She wasn't able to make it to the last one either, but we did call her at lunch and touch base with her at the last one.  It was nice to have Dad with us.  He has his new hearing aids now- he was actually able to hear the talks and have conversations with people. 

good ol' blackberry pics- carazy kiddos:)

Musical People

The sun is actually shining out there this morning!  Having a very difficult time accepting that I am going to be a grown-up and make myself go to work, where I will be in an office  instead of outside playing.  Oh-well, there will still be sunshine when I get home later (there better be!!!).

I went a little dark  in here yesterday.  I thought I'd counter it with something I've been wanting to write down for awhile.  I want to start writing more stories about my parents' lives- the happy stuff.  Someday I am going to print it all out and give it to my kids.

The last time I saw Dad, he started talking about the piano that he has in his storage shed.  It's the same piano that was always in the family house in Paradise, right at the bottom of the stairs.  Mom could play the guitar, accordion and the piano. Out of the three, the piano was her favorite.  When they moved out of Paradise, the piano never made it into their new place; it was just too big for their downsized home.  I don't think I ever heard Mom play again after they moved, which was sad because she played beautifully. 

Dad was talking about that piano, and about how he wants to have it restored and retuned.  He isn't a big talker- he's not the kind of guy who will sit you down and tell you his whole life story in one sitting.  He lets little gems slip out once in awhile though, and the back story behind the piano was one of those. 

The story starts with him, right after he first moved to Paradise to work at the railroad.  He was living in a little house on the property of my grandparents, right behind their family house.  He said that after work he would sit outside his little house and listen to that piano playing inside the big house.  He didn't know it yet, but it was my mom, her sister and her best friend in there.  It sounded like they were having fun- being silly and rowdy.  So, in a way, that piano was his first introduction to Mom, which for them was the most appropriate and perfect introduction I can think of. If there was ever a way to get his attention, is was through music (well, music or old cars, preferably of the model T variety).  It probably also didn't hurt that when he actually met her, she was a beauty.

Neither one of my parents were very big talkers, but they were both musicians and that was no small part of the communication in their relationship.  I remember them singing and playing together, Dad in the kitchen saying,"Hey Pat, what song is this?" and he'd start playing a song on his old Martin and singing (usually an old western) and soon she'd join in.  They knew all the words to the same old songs, and they would harmonize with each other.

I have a mandolin hanging on my wall- a gift of long ago from my mom to my dad, one of the first gifts she ever gave him.  They saved up for other instruments.  Back in the sixties they spent three hundred dollars for my mom's accordion- a fortune for them in those days.  It seems that whenever Dad shares a special memory about Mom, there is always music attached to it in some form.  It was such an important part of their story.

~Mom playing the piano at their wedding reception~

Headstone

We (Dad, Renae, Danny and myself) chose a headstone yesterday.  I'm glad we waited six months to do it, it would have been much harder if we'd attempted to right away.  Renae and I have been looking online for the last couple of weeks, trying to find something we liked.  We thought we'd go somewhere local instead, and I'm glad we did.  It had to have been a little weird for Dad, as he decided to get a companion stone with his name on it as well.  I think it's going to be nice though. 

My Mom wanted to be buried in Paradise by my brother.  His headstone has a mountain scene with an elk and a fish jumping out of a stream (Daryn loved nature and hunting).  The one we designed for Mom and Dad has a similiar mountain scene.  Mom's side will also have a spray of roses and a humingbird (some of her favorite things) and Dad's side will have a guitar leaning up against a tree.  The people we are getting it from are going to email us the design in about a week so we can make any changes if we need to. 

We went to Costco after that and had Dad's hearing checked.  He's been having a hard time for awhile with higher pitched noises (like my voice:/).  They tested him and then let him walk around the store with a pair of trial hearing aids.  It was awesome!!!  He could actually hear us easily for the first time in years.  I wish he could have just walked out with the trial pair, but between trying to schedule for a fitting and ordering his new pair in, it's going to be about a week and a half before he gets them.  Very happy that he will be able to hear again though:)

Derrick and I are going to Polson today while the kiddies go to their Gramma and Grampa's.  We have some friends who have a batch of motel rooms they need to use (?very unclear on details- Derrick did all the arranging).  I'm not even really sure who all is going, except the couple who invited us, Hauns and Susan.  They are really sweet though, should be a nice time.

And now on to very important things, like drinking coffee and finishing the laundry. 

T. Falls

Last night I had a dream about Mom.  She was showing me how to use her new washer and dryer, and it felt so real.  I could hear her, smell her, and feel her touching my shoulder.  It was so good to hear her voice.  I wish that I had saved all of the voice messages she ever left for me so I could at least have that.  I took so many pictures of her, especially in those four years that we knew she had cancer.  I know someday those pictures are going to be nice to look at, but right now they are a little too bitter for me.  I wish I would have taken videos and recorded her voice- something to capture who she really was.

This last weekend was great.  We stayed at Renae's and everyone came over for the day.  We played scrabble and hand n foot (not to brag, but I totally won*hehe*) and then Renae made some of her fabulous lasagna.  Dad came down to spend the day with us, and he also came down the next day for our super bowl party.  We went to meeting on Sunday and got to see our friends there (hi Amy!).  Love going to T.Falls- it's like a giant hug for me.

Super Bowlies

Our game of Hand n Foot was WAY more exciting.

Self Portrait of EmWha during a superbowl game
(I took some of the other card players, but I'm thinkin'
they might not appreciate them on the internet...)

I hear the Packers won.

Not Alone

There is one sick little girl in this house right now.  Poor bebe.  She has a fever (gave her some tylenol about an hour ago, and she was finally able to go to sleep), and is feeling sick to her stomach.  It's going to be a long night- there is a bowl by the bed in preparation, and more tylenol ready to be dosed.  Might as well plan on getting sick myself too.  This is a three day weekend, so hopefully we'll have some time to recoupe.  At least Derrick made it home last night; a very happy thing for us:)

Talked to my brother Danny tonight.  Talked to Renae.  Talked to Dad.  The hard thing about grief is that even though you can talk to each other about it, you still have to do the work of really grieving on your own.  No one can do it for you, and you can't do it for any one else.  It really does help to talk to others who are going through loss though- makes you realize that a lot of the feelings we go through are just universal.  Plus, I admit it, pretty much every minute of the day at least a part of me is thinking about my Mom.  Everything relates to her.  Everything triggers memories of her.  I think about that last month of her life a lot.  It's stuff you can't just talk about 24/7 with anyone who crosses your path, however.  It is (for me) a very big relief to be able to talk about her, and all of these feelings that I'm going through, and to also hear others talk about her (or their lost loved one) and all of the feelings that they are experiencing too.

I wrote a blog this week and then deleted it because I thought it was too negative.  I'm going to really try not to let myself do that anymore.  Not all feelings are going to be positive right now- that has to be okay.  Walking though the hard feelings is the only way to get to the other side.  Think I'm gong to repost it here:

Broken Records
"If I had experienced different things, I would have different things to say."- Just read that. I like it. The author goes on to say," So often I have felt troubled and guilty bearing witness to my pain". It is so hard to express real feelings without feeling  bad for possibly depressing or horrifying your listener.  It requires faith in the other person, that they care enough to listen and are strong enough to handle what you are saying.  

I am home from work today. I went in for a little while this morning, but came home. I stayed home yesterday too. Hopefully tomorrow will be better. I don't know how people do this- go to work every day, whether they feel like they are bleeding internally or not. Even when my heart isn't hurting, I'm just so tired. Just want to sleep, and sleep... and sleep. I really do like my job. Before my mom died, I didn't dread going in. It is good for me- provides scructure for my day, allows me to be helpful and also contribute to our income. I like the people there very much. I like to be a dependable person and employee. I do deal with cranky people a lot, but that has always been part of working there- you just need to have some compassion and a sense of humor. It's just been harder to go there and deal with people- their frustration, anger, tragedies.  In a way it is good for me though- everyday I am reminded over and over that I am not the only one in this world dealing with loss. So many other people have so much more they are going through. If my misery needs company, I am in just the right place for it.

I know that dwelling on negative things accomplishes nothing except to create ruts in the inner workings of the mind that are hard to get unstuck from. There were just so many things that happened or were said when everything was at its most vulnerable moment. Sometimes it's hard not to ruminate.

Need that serenity... to accept the things I cannot change. Also, need to keep thinking of the wonderful things in my life. My record is broken at the moment... might as well add the good stuff in there for it to keep skipping over too.

nobody's darling but mine- merle haggard

Various Dreams

I want to learn how to make this:

I ordered a book about a week ago to learn how to do metal stamping.  I am EXCITED (YAYAYAY) to get it!!!  It comes with a DVD and everything!!!  My plan is to watch it, become instantly enlightened, buy all of the tools and materials to proceed, make a ton of them, have Stephanie become my selling agent, sell millions and then retire.  You gotta have a plan.
Something else I've been dreaming about is photography.  Tara (fellow aspirer and awesome photographer) sent a link to me the other day at http://www.weddingshow.com/.  Someday, we are going to do this.  Because you gotta have a dream too.

I need more hours in the day.

Tomorrow is the last day of eight hour-age at my job.  The plan is for Derrick to stay home tomorrow, get us packed **!** (A moment of silence here.....  and appreciation....  to go on a trip and not have to pack sounds even BETTER than a dream come true for me!!!) (One more moment of silence- this is just that good..............okay, now we proceed), then he will load up stuff and kids, pick me up at work at the end of my day, and onward to Seattle we shall go!  :)))  It will be so good to see David and Tara, spend time with them and also away from snow.  I plan on wearing a bikini while we are there.  I don't care if it's raining and cold- it'll be warmer there than it is here!!!

It is so gray outside today.  I'm tired- it was one of those dreaming nights last night- the kind that you wake up from feeling weepy and emotional.  It was weird though- instead of Mom, I was dreaming about Dad.  Actually, it was about a letter I had written about Dad (in my dream, because I've never actually written anything like that).  It was all crumpled up, and had some sad stuff scribbled all over it.  There were big x's crossing off all of the sad stuff, and the words "He cares more than you know" were written over and over in the side margins.  It doesn't surprise me that I dreamed about him.  I called him last night and we talked for about five minutes.  It's just so hard- our relationship always sorta hinged on Mom.  She was the one I talked to when I called.  If he ever answered the phone, it was always a quick "hi" for us and then he'd ask if I wanted to talk to Mom and I would say "Yep, love ya Dad" and then it was on to Mom.

I've been reading a book about goals and time management, and one of the goals the writer mentioned is building a closer relationship with one's dad.  That kind of caught me off guard.  Aren't parental relationships supposed to be one of those effortless bonds that just happen because of all of the shared DNA<--- Yeah, I know that last sentence doesn't even make sense, but a part of me resents that my little idealistic notion isn't reality.

The truth is, my dad worked really hard to support six children and a wife that he loved dearly, and a lot of the time I was growing up he was sleeping (he worked night-shifts).  He has a genius and a passion for anything mechanical, and one of his favorite pastimes is working on cars (or tinkering with anything with bolts and metal parts).  I inherited a large amount of introversion from him, and also the inclination to get obsessed with projects, although mine are more crafty/artsy where as his are mechanical.  I've typed him as ISTP where as I am INFP (those links go to a pretty brutal typing link, but it feels accurate- probably because each type is a composite description from many of that specific type) (As another complete side note, I find it hilarious that the INFP description is so much longer than the ISTP- it WOULD be!  INFPs are WAAAAY more concerned about this kind of stuff, as of course that personality type would be...  I could go on and on...).

Anyhoo, I'm searching for a welding class for us to have a common bond with- something I could use with jewelry and projects, and he could use on his metal stuff- he just got a plasma cutter to play with.  Haven't found anything yet, but I bet the Adult Education at the Emily Dickenson School will eventually have one.  Put that one in the goal category too, I guess.

So... those are my rambling and disjointed thoughts today:)

One Room

This was a hard weekend. I'm borderline between being glad that we went ahead and attempted it (and succeeded with at least their bedroom), and thinking we did it too soon for our own good. My body feels like it weighs a million pounds. It wants to crawl into bed and sleep for the next six months.

I just unpacked everything- didn't want to start off this week with unpacked bags everywhere again. I didn't really bring home a lot of things from Mom's, but the things I did bring are all special. One of the most special things is an old jewelry box that she always had on her dresser when I was a kid. Wish I knew the story behind it- it's been old and tattered looking as long as I can remember. It used to be a music box at some point, but it's broke. If you turn the mechanism in back manually you get a haunted version of "Memories". I used to spend a lot of time on Mom's bed searching through the treasures she had in there- all old vintage 50's stuff, some false teeth that belonged to her grandpa, old watches, and old pictures tucked behind a little mirror on the inside of the lid of her four older kids, her sisters and my Dad. I didn't keep the teeth in there (although I sort of regret it now- they were really fascinating as kid), but there is a small selection of necklaces, rings and earrings in there that I will always remember her wearing. There is a Black Hills Ring in there that she wore the whole time I was growing up... reminds me of my mom in the 90's.

For clothes, I brought home a lot of socks (mostly just being practical there- I hate having cold feet as much as she did), a soft fuzzy warm robe, and some scarves that smell like her. I have her patchouli perfume and oil too, but it may be awhile before I will be able to wear those.

I don't think we will be doing anymore of this until next spring. I do want to try to get down to Dad's more though- it was very comforting to see him, Renae, Steph, Cookie and Nancy- we need each other. It was good for Aiyana and Kloe and Derrin to play together. We need to start making new memories there. It was also really great to see my friends at the meeting in Thompson Falls. Now for some sleep- unfortunately not the six months I'd like, but at least eight hours before getting up and starting another work week.

Hold the Nuts Please

We are going to be heading to Plains tonight after work.  Sooo much to do first, but this is sacred coffee, Friends, and blogging time, so here I sit.  Somehow the house fell apart around my head this week.  I still haven't unpacked from our skiing trip last weekend.  Another constant in life; packing (and unpacking) for travel. 

Yesterday was an interesting day at work.  You ever read that book "The Secret"?  Or "Think and Grow Rich"?  One of the main ideas in those books is that thoughts are powerful, and everything you draw to yourself is from your thoughts.   I think I've been drawing in NUTS with my thoughts this week.  Seriously!  A guy called me up yesterday (anonymously, of course), freaked out on me, and then he called the state capital and complained to them there that I was RUDE! Wow, what a honor!  I even called him "Sir" in a completely not-mocking him sort of way!  Another guy launched into a twenty minute rant while waiting for an appointment- seriously the kind of fellow you expect to come back with a weapon.  Another guy ranting about wicked republicans trying to take everything from him and his dying wife....  Today I'm thinking of rainbows and ponies- see what that brings into the office.

Derrin had a talk last night at meeting.  He did so good- I am always so proud of him with how hard he works at his reading:)  He is thinking he wants to move it up to the next level and try for a #3 talk next time.  I think he is more than ready- plus Derrick and I can help him.

Okay... off to do some running, some cleaning, some laundry, some working (rainbows and ponies, rainbows and ponies), some packing, and some going to Dad's.

Back to the Good

Okay… enough of that negative thinking. Sitting here listening to some music (Hallelujah by Jeff Buckley- the best version of all), sipping on my coffee… writing instead of watching my morning Friends. I need to run this morning. It’s all snowy, slushy and not shoveled out there- guess it’s the treadmill for me (We’ll make up and be friends again today. We can’t stay mad at each other forever). Then off to work… it’s just a sliver of the day, but lately it’s harder to go there. Everyone who calls in is in such a bad mood- lots of stress in the world these days, and we hear all about it from person after person after person there… hearing about that part of the human condition day after day can either turn up your compassion and your appreciation for your own life, or it can start to make your heart hard and make you feel like hitting your head against the nearest hard surface repeatedly. I need to return to the compassion and appreciation stuff- this negative thinking helps no one, least of all myself. The same goes for running on that blasted treadmill-it’s not ideal, but it is what I need to do for myself-so I gots to quit complaining.

We are planning on going to Plains this weekend. I haven’t been there since my mom’s funeral. It will be nice to see Dad. It will be hard going through her things… but Renae and Steph will be there too; we can do it together. I wish Mom would have been a journal keeper, so we could have a piece of her still with us.

I’m going to be working longer hours in the next couple of weeks, but they are just two four day work weeks, so it will be alright. We are going to Lost Trail the weekend of the 25th with Steve and Sabrina and all the kiddies for some skiing. Going to stay in a cabin together up there- it will be fun for the kids to get to (continue) to learn together, and between all of the adults we should be able to get some real skiing in too.

Anyways, time to get back on the happy wagon. Run. Green drinks. Vitamins. Good thoughts. Fighting to feel good is worth it- so much better than the alternative.

Run, Running, Runable, run-atious, Runanananun

So I am officially signed up for the "Run for the Health of It" 5K this Saturday. Should be interesting as I haven't been able to get myself to run even ONCE this whole month. I may be walking quite a bit of it. I'm hoping that this will be a springboard for beginning to run again though. I need to do it!!! Between my obsession with chocolate, black licorice, and anything fatty and delicious lately PLUS my couch potato-ism, my pants were a bit tight this morning. I was so going to run today before work... that didn't happen, but I did make a green drink (kale, blue berries, cranberries, banana) and took my vitamins for the first time in a month- yay for self-care... But seriously, running and all that other stuff is going to be huge in the surviving of this winter, which has always been a struggle for me anyways, even before everything that has happened with mom.

I've been reading a lot about delayed grief. Talked to Renae yesterday about how I just don't seem to feel much of anything right now (besides being so tired and lethargic), and she said that is how she feels too. Brandon too- he hasn't really cried at all... and I know Steph is there too. Even Dad seems to be there with us. A lot of stuff I've been reading says that this can happen a lot with care givers of terminally ill loved ones- it's a coping mechanism we have when we need to get through an especially hard time (like when caring for someone who is actively dying), but that it is hard to turn off after the crisis has passed. I feel like we are sitting on a ticking time bomb. Dad wants us to come down and go through her things soon. Also, we are need to choose a headstone and sprinkle her ashes...

Back to the race... SO, Renae called me yesterday to let me know that Partnership for Health is one of it's sponsors and beneficiaries. It is... not sure if ironic is the right word here... well, just a fun fact for us, especially since Steph and I (Patsy's progeny) are going to run something for them, since they were the ones who let her go for YEARS without a colonoscopy, even after she repeatedly reported symptoms that screamed colon cancer. If they would have listened to her (even if they would have just had her get one because she was over fifty), she would still be alive today. Because of what happened to Mom, they changed the whole structure of when to recommend colonoscopies to their patients. This run could even be in reaction to what happened to her- trying to make colonoscopies more available and affordable to lower-income people. So, it will be a bittersweet thing to run for them on Saturday... mostly sweet though. I wish that funds had have been available for my mom all those years ago (and that her doctor would have recommended she use them).

Being Raised One of Jehovah's Witnesses

One of the greatest gifts my mother (and father) ever gave me was that of teaching me everything that they knew from the bible. I was raised as one of Jehovah's Witnesses from the time I was born. That meant several things for me; for non-witness kids the most noticeable thing about me was I never celebrated holidays (if you wonder why ask me!) or birthdays. Even as a little kid I got used to being different from other kids and learned to be okay with that.
Being a witness also meant going to three meetings a week where we would learn from the bible in an almost school-like way. We studied before going to meetings to better understand what we were learning there. It also included preaching from door to door, doing what Matthew 24:14 taught us to do.If you think being different in school from everyone else, going to meetings to learn about the bible all the time and preaching were easy for a kid... then you would need to think again. But those were times when I learned vital lessons about who I wanted to be and what I wanted my life to be about. I definitely knew what the choice I was making meant for me when I was baptized at the age of 12. I had committed myself to being one Jehovah's people for life- not a thing to be done lightly, and really it wasn't something I could just jump into even if I tried. I had to answer many questions first to prove I knew what course of action I was committing myself to (as everyone who gets baptized as one of Jehovah's Witnesses does).
Just because my parents put all of this hard work into raising me, it doesn't mean I never let them down. Anyone who knows me from high school knows that I was not a shining example of how a Christian should act. I made several HUGE mistakes- I knew better, but thought I was missing out on fun so I did things I shouldn't have. There were several things that I could have been removed from the congregation for. Definitely things that were against the course I had committed myself to when I made my promise to God. I sorta just faded away from the congregation for awhile and did my thing. I have a lot of regrets from those days because a lot of my choices hurt other people, witnesses and non-witnesses alike.We are going through old pictures this week for a sideshow we are doing at Mom's memorial, and one that struck me is at my own graduation- my mom is hugging me and she just looks so SAD. I hate that I hurt her in those days! Mom never gave up on me- she saw the truths she'd taught me as a child as a vehicle to save me from myself. I don't know how many times I asked her to JUST STOP trying to get me to come back!!! I got to the point where I felt so low, like I could never feel good about myself again- I'd made so many bad choices. Mom NEVER gave up on me though, and eventually I woke up. Mom and Dad let me move back in with them and I talked to the "elders" in our congregation who helped me talk about what I had been doing. They could see I really regretted the choices I'd made and they helped me move passed them. They could have chose to remove me- I had shown complete disregard for everything I'd promised and hurt others and myself in the process, but I learned there (and several times since-I'm apparently a slow learner) that the elders want to help me. A person is only removed when they decide that they no longer want to be part of the congregation, and would rather live a life that isn't the one they previously committed to in their babtism.
I am SO grateful for the help the congregation and elders have given me in those times and in times like we are having now.
As an adult I go to meetings and study the bible, and still go in our bible door to door ministry. I'm passing on the gift my parents gave to me to my own children. The hope from what I've learned from the bible is so worth living a life that means swimming against the current(and fighting myself!) on a daily basis. Especially in times like these- losing my mom has been the hardest thing I've ever had to go through. Losing her to cancer was an unimaginable horror. My dad,sister, niece, nephew and I were her primary caregivers that last month, and it was like watching her die in slow motion. A living nightmare for her and for us. The only thing that gets us through it is the hope we have from the bible that if we are loyal to God, we will see her again. When she wakes up she is going to be healthy and feel so much better again (Daniel 12:2 says there will be many of those asleep in the ground of dust who will wake up, these to indefinitely lasting life...). I refuse to let anything ever come between me and that hope ever again.

Emotional Whiplash

I was seriously down on Tuesday. Just one of those crappy days where EVERYTHING I touched seemed to turn to dust instantly. Made both my kids cry. Had crazy people getting frustrated with me at work. My husband had to leave town for work (that one wasn't my fault, but I was still sad about it). Wednesday I decided to stay home from work and try to gather myself. Went running- not a great run, but I struggled through the 6.2 miles and was happy to have done it. Folded PILES of laundry and got them all put away. Took the kids into town after school to have dinner with Renae and my parents. Bought some more flowers and plants and made my front porch pretty. Bought the first season of Glee's soundtrack (I am SUCH a geek). Turned out it was a great day. Today I woke up in a fantastic mood. Derrick is coming home tonight. I ran the 6.2 miles with NO BREAKS!!! Holy cow, I was impressed with myself- although I did decide in the end that if I plan on texting anyone a walk break is a MUST. Came way to close to running into a fence post. I did have an epiphany (Running makes me as philosophical as I was when I used to drink. Must be the endorphins kicking in.) It happened when I almost ran into the post because I was running while texting. Made me think about my approach to life- how I sweat the small stuff. I micro-analyze EVERYTHING- hold it up as close as I can until I'm nearly cross-eyed and dizzy. Makes me run into emotional posts, and then I fall down stunned. You can not text and run very well at the same time because : a) You are bouncing up and down so it is really hard to see anything up close anyways. b) You also can't see anything far away because you are looking at the darned phone.
My life is not going to slow down anytime soon. There is too much going on all of the time to sit down and micro-analyze every little thing. It only makes for a crash and burn for me. Since my life is going to be in motion, I gotta just put the phone down, keep my eyes on the road and quit worrying about things that don't matter. One fact you should know about me: I look ridiculous when I run. My arms have a rhythm of their own- they swing independent from my legs. I've seen pictures and video: it is a sight to behold. Despite this, I still go. I don't care WHAT I look like while I'm running, because the benefits to me are worth it! I feel awesome, strong, sexy.... well, I feel a lot of really great things while I am running. I want my life to be like THAT. I want to say what I want to say and just be able to trust myself that my intentions are good, so let the words fall where they may, whether I look crazy while saying it or not. If something is funny to me, I want to be able to say it and feel awesome, strong, sexy.... and all of those other adjectives, just because it is HEALTHY to just be who I am without picking it apart, hiding, or worst of all just shutting down!
Anyways, guess that is it for today:)

Shortcut Memories

Today I remembered something about myself and where it came from. This happened at a green light on South Street, the one that turns into the mall. I was sitting in the back seat of my parent's car with Kloe. Mom and Dad were in the front, and Dad was starting the shift in his seat and shake him head. His agitation was so great that he was moved to murmur,"Do you see this traffic? This is going to take forever. Why isn't anyone moving."

I tried to reassure him by saying,"Yeah, the traffic is never that great through here. It will move along eventually."

To which he responded by moving into the left turning lane and winding all the way through the mall parking lot to Brooks street. I looked in the rear window and it was clear the traffic was moving again. But I said nothing.

Dad's "shortcuts" are an interesting memory from childhood(the particular trip I am thinking about happened in Vancouver, Canada), usually ending up in my little brother and I in the backseat miserable and fighting, and Mom and Dad in the frontseat, miserable and fighting (actually, fighting between my parents included my mom having words with Dad, and him going to his happy place). His shortcuts were a surefire way to three extra hours tacked onto any trip.

Today it only added about five extra minutes BUT it made me remember that my own impatience does have roots all the way back to my paternity... and that makes me actually look at this particular flaw with some fondness. I will have to hold on to that feeling the next time I am winding my way through the back streets of Missoula, lost again (as much as you can get lost in this town) because I was too impatient to wait for yet another red light.