I've got a lot of garbage in my head... too much for most people to stay sane, in my opinion. I think constantly, because I rarely have anything to think about right now, outside of myself. Every day is a long draining hour by hour existence that's filled with the 'what if's' and 'whens' of life. I can't control it... I can only control myself, of which I do so poorly. I have bad ideas, bad habits, and a lack of organization that allows me to float through days with no sense of responsibility or care.
I want to be responsible. I want to have a life that requires more of me. I want people who check on me, who want to know what I'm up to, and who care enough when things are bad to say 'hey - maybe that's not a good idea'... although I rarely share my bad things with anyone. It makes it tough for my friends, and I know that. I appreciate their prayers for me, and knowing that they DO care, but there's not much in the middle. I shouldn't need a basbysitter. I shouldn't burden people with my issues. It makes me feel like I should be locked up somewhere - somewhere that those things are required. I have a friend who has had to go into those places because of her choices and mental instability... it hurts my soul to know she needs/needed that type of care, but in the end, I'm one day behind her in a lot of ways.
In any case, I don't like what I think about - what I see - what I hear - who I encounter - what comes from people I don't even know. I shouldn't judge, I know that too... there's a lot in other peoples' lives that I don't have a clue about... but still, I find myself avoiding people and avoiding friendships because I don't want them to see the ugly in me, and I don't want to know their ugliness. I protect myself against it. Someone shared with me today how she and I always tend to keep that 10% of ourselves from others, just for our own heart's sake. I agree with her. She makes sense. She always has in that way. She doesn't make sense to me in a lot of ways, but that one part, she does. There are others who are the eternal optimist, and that bugs the shit out of me. Why are you so optimistic? What in life makes you so? I can't see it. My glasses are in no way rose colored, and I see things very differently than they do. I guess I'll just have to stop and let them be them, and hopefully they can allow me to be me. Life's not a bowl of cherries... it's hard. It sucks sometimes. That's my bottom line.
I have a faith. I can't say it's strong anymore... but it's part of who I am. I try to bring it into the present as much as possible... but some days it's just shoved back into the background. My friends bring it forward... I bring it forward when I have to - so people and family know that I still have a faith base, but some days I think I'm faking it. Moments of insecurity bring me to imagining me with Jesus, wrapped in his robe, and pushing my face into His chest, smelling the incense and perfume of his Glory. I stay there mentally until I can move again. That happens a lot.
I wonder sometimes how my other friends deal with things like this... with moments like this... where do you turn? Do you just go inward? Do you call a friend? Do you pray? Do you go out and do something to distract yourself? Most of my friends have families who take up more of their brain power than what I deal with, so I'm sure that's part of their sanity, as weird as that might sound. They don't go deep into their own heads a lot. I do. I'm there all the damn time. What the hell am I doing in my life? What's meant for me? I leave it to God out of sheer frustration and exhaustion. I know it may seem lazy to some, but there are days where I can hardly eat anything just because my mind doesn't go there. I have to remember or care enough to bother.
Now I'm rambling... I'll leave this blog now, going back to what I was doing... staring at the television seeing what horror has happened in the last 24 hours since I watched last.
Don't be me.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Monday, October 17, 2011
The Places We Dwell...
Recently I've noticed more the homes that people I know live in... and there's a part of me who is envious, and part of me who just loves the home I'm in. So many different styles, tastes, ways of life... it's so interesting. You can tell a lot about a person/people/family by their homes and the conditions of their spaces.
One of our neighbor families is moving away to Virginia, and their home is for sale. I've been there, spent time inside, and have been in love with it for many different reasons. It's huge, for one. It's immaculate, even though they have four children under the age of 8. The woodwork is all original, the furniture is all period pieces, and they have the financial ability to make their home into a true work of art. That's what I envy... the ability to have things that set the inside of your home off to be as pristine and beautiful as the outside. We bought our home because of the beauty if held as a structure, but haven't been able yet to fill it with loveliness to the point where I can be proud. Pride is an ugly thing at times - I shouldn't feel the way I do, but I admit, my furniture isn't what I want it to be. However, I have friends who call their houses 'shitholes' - two sets of friends who we spend quite a bit of time with. One has the ability to do something about it, yet don't have their hearts in it, and therefore don't change the inside to their liking. The other has the ability, and are trying to update their home, but time passes, and things get put aside, making it hard to enjoy having people over (in their opinion). Life gets in the way a lot... things happen.
Inside some of my friends' homes it's as if no one lived there. Nothing out of place, not a speck of dust, everything as if the home was empty. I love a clean home, but don't have the gumption to get at the dusty corners, hard to reach spaces that things and dust accumulate, clothes in places they shouldn't be... sometimes it's a mess. I envy the people who can keep their homes clean and immaculate like the one enormous home we visited this past weekend. We don't know the people well, but the home is enormous, brand new, and decorated to the T. Nothing out of place, no dust to be seen anywhere, every room was perfectly decorated and kept. How do you do that when you're a full time lawyer and your husband is away a year at a time in the service? Maybe they have a cleaning service, I don't know... either way, I was highly impressed. I have other friends whose homes are smaller, but it's the same way - perfect decorations, nothing out of place, no dirt... it frustrates me a little inside. I don't work right now - so why is my house a mess? Is it that I just inwardly don't care? Is it laziness (that's my bet)? I feel as though I should be doing more.
Messy homes are the sign of an active household. Kids playing, meals eaten in front of the television, full time working parents who don't have the time to set aside for such things as dishes, laundry, picking up toys fifteen times a day, etc. I grew up in a bit of a mess myself... my mother hated cleaning, and didn't really put her all into it. There was a point in time when she did, but the turning point in all of our lives was when my dad passed away, and mom stopped treating us all like children, and expected us to make our own way. Clean your own laundry, help with the meals, clean up after yourselves. I was a child for way longer than I should have been... To this day mom hasn't changed her ways much. She has had to relearn how to make her home presentable. I think some day I'll have to learn that same lesson, as I'm like my mother in a lot of ways. But why, if I'm flustered by it right now, can't I change right now? I have no clue why I'm the way I am. Frustrating.
In any case, it was just a small case study, seeing how people live, why they are the way they are, and how things for some people are easier to accomplish than others. I know we're all different, but it's interesting to know why some things go undone and others are so overdone...
Tell me about your house style - your living style... what bugs you and what keeps you doing the same things... I'm interested.
One of our neighbor families is moving away to Virginia, and their home is for sale. I've been there, spent time inside, and have been in love with it for many different reasons. It's huge, for one. It's immaculate, even though they have four children under the age of 8. The woodwork is all original, the furniture is all period pieces, and they have the financial ability to make their home into a true work of art. That's what I envy... the ability to have things that set the inside of your home off to be as pristine and beautiful as the outside. We bought our home because of the beauty if held as a structure, but haven't been able yet to fill it with loveliness to the point where I can be proud. Pride is an ugly thing at times - I shouldn't feel the way I do, but I admit, my furniture isn't what I want it to be. However, I have friends who call their houses 'shitholes' - two sets of friends who we spend quite a bit of time with. One has the ability to do something about it, yet don't have their hearts in it, and therefore don't change the inside to their liking. The other has the ability, and are trying to update their home, but time passes, and things get put aside, making it hard to enjoy having people over (in their opinion). Life gets in the way a lot... things happen.
Inside some of my friends' homes it's as if no one lived there. Nothing out of place, not a speck of dust, everything as if the home was empty. I love a clean home, but don't have the gumption to get at the dusty corners, hard to reach spaces that things and dust accumulate, clothes in places they shouldn't be... sometimes it's a mess. I envy the people who can keep their homes clean and immaculate like the one enormous home we visited this past weekend. We don't know the people well, but the home is enormous, brand new, and decorated to the T. Nothing out of place, no dust to be seen anywhere, every room was perfectly decorated and kept. How do you do that when you're a full time lawyer and your husband is away a year at a time in the service? Maybe they have a cleaning service, I don't know... either way, I was highly impressed. I have other friends whose homes are smaller, but it's the same way - perfect decorations, nothing out of place, no dirt... it frustrates me a little inside. I don't work right now - so why is my house a mess? Is it that I just inwardly don't care? Is it laziness (that's my bet)? I feel as though I should be doing more.
Messy homes are the sign of an active household. Kids playing, meals eaten in front of the television, full time working parents who don't have the time to set aside for such things as dishes, laundry, picking up toys fifteen times a day, etc. I grew up in a bit of a mess myself... my mother hated cleaning, and didn't really put her all into it. There was a point in time when she did, but the turning point in all of our lives was when my dad passed away, and mom stopped treating us all like children, and expected us to make our own way. Clean your own laundry, help with the meals, clean up after yourselves. I was a child for way longer than I should have been... To this day mom hasn't changed her ways much. She has had to relearn how to make her home presentable. I think some day I'll have to learn that same lesson, as I'm like my mother in a lot of ways. But why, if I'm flustered by it right now, can't I change right now? I have no clue why I'm the way I am. Frustrating.
In any case, it was just a small case study, seeing how people live, why they are the way they are, and how things for some people are easier to accomplish than others. I know we're all different, but it's interesting to know why some things go undone and others are so overdone...
Tell me about your house style - your living style... what bugs you and what keeps you doing the same things... I'm interested.
Friday, October 7, 2011
A Week To Forget...
So, my vast fan base and friends, what's new? Anything? Everyone healthy and happy? Ahh... that's good... however - I have to tell a tale of my last 7 days that will remind you to always be careful of your health.
Approximately one week ago I began experiencing severe abdominal pain after consuming some yummy calzone from up the street here in Holley. It didn't go away, didn't decrease, and became obvious that this was going to be the first emergency room visit in over 20 years. Pain killers, IVs, tests, and all sorts of prodding and questioning resulted in us staying in the hospital for 4 hours, leaving for home around 4 a.m. I wasn't convinced it was over, but was glad at least to go home to my own bed. Saturday begins, and more pain increases. Again, at midnight, another trip to the ER. This time, it was worse, and I knew something had to be done. More poking, prodding, tests, and an additional ultrasound resulted in the revelation that my gallbladder was in dire straights. They kept me in ER until the early morning Sunday when I had emergency gallbladder surgery. Come to find out, the organ was dead - yes, DEAD. It was 10-12x the size it should have been, black, full of stones, and leaking bile. They were amazed at it, and ended up taking photos, which will eventually be part of a presentation by the surgeon next February when he goes in front of the Unity Health group at a conference on gallbladders. They told me it was 'troublesome' to get out, and that it had damaged the tissues around it because of its decay. Lovely huh? Yeah... it's strange how something THAT BAD could come about so quickly and severely, but when I asked, the doctor said 'it didn't! It was bad for a while... you're just one of those scary patients who have a high tolerance for pain.' I doubt that, seriously... I'm pretty much a wuss when it comes to pain... but I have to say that whatever pain may have preceded this past weekend was nothing compared to what was going on a week ago.
Since then, I stayed in the hospital 4 days due to the levels in my liver and surrounding tissues, as well as my white blood counts being too high. It was pretty hard. Hospitals are one of my least favorite places, the one I was in is particularly 'iffy', and home is where I seem to be at my best. Once I was released, I still had a 'drain' in my side, which I can't express enough how inconvenient, gross, painful, and intrusive it was. That was pulled out of my side this afternoon, after someone had told me that 'yeah, that's really painful'... Great. It was. It sucked. But, only for a few seconds. It felt like someone was pulling a rope through my entire mid section and out the other side. It still kinda hurts... but I'm at this point, feeling like I'm recovering. Quite an ordeal. Quite.
In any case, hospitals are no fun, and I hope to keep as far away from them as humanly possible. Tonight I'm mourning the reality that I can't have pizza for dinner... that low fat is in my future for at least another week. Hopefully things will feel more normal as days go by...
Thanks for the prayers and emails, texts, and FB notes. I appreciate the support. Keep yourself in check people, because this sort of week is something you don't want to do more than once!
Approximately one week ago I began experiencing severe abdominal pain after consuming some yummy calzone from up the street here in Holley. It didn't go away, didn't decrease, and became obvious that this was going to be the first emergency room visit in over 20 years. Pain killers, IVs, tests, and all sorts of prodding and questioning resulted in us staying in the hospital for 4 hours, leaving for home around 4 a.m. I wasn't convinced it was over, but was glad at least to go home to my own bed. Saturday begins, and more pain increases. Again, at midnight, another trip to the ER. This time, it was worse, and I knew something had to be done. More poking, prodding, tests, and an additional ultrasound resulted in the revelation that my gallbladder was in dire straights. They kept me in ER until the early morning Sunday when I had emergency gallbladder surgery. Come to find out, the organ was dead - yes, DEAD. It was 10-12x the size it should have been, black, full of stones, and leaking bile. They were amazed at it, and ended up taking photos, which will eventually be part of a presentation by the surgeon next February when he goes in front of the Unity Health group at a conference on gallbladders. They told me it was 'troublesome' to get out, and that it had damaged the tissues around it because of its decay. Lovely huh? Yeah... it's strange how something THAT BAD could come about so quickly and severely, but when I asked, the doctor said 'it didn't! It was bad for a while... you're just one of those scary patients who have a high tolerance for pain.' I doubt that, seriously... I'm pretty much a wuss when it comes to pain... but I have to say that whatever pain may have preceded this past weekend was nothing compared to what was going on a week ago.
Since then, I stayed in the hospital 4 days due to the levels in my liver and surrounding tissues, as well as my white blood counts being too high. It was pretty hard. Hospitals are one of my least favorite places, the one I was in is particularly 'iffy', and home is where I seem to be at my best. Once I was released, I still had a 'drain' in my side, which I can't express enough how inconvenient, gross, painful, and intrusive it was. That was pulled out of my side this afternoon, after someone had told me that 'yeah, that's really painful'... Great. It was. It sucked. But, only for a few seconds. It felt like someone was pulling a rope through my entire mid section and out the other side. It still kinda hurts... but I'm at this point, feeling like I'm recovering. Quite an ordeal. Quite.
In any case, hospitals are no fun, and I hope to keep as far away from them as humanly possible. Tonight I'm mourning the reality that I can't have pizza for dinner... that low fat is in my future for at least another week. Hopefully things will feel more normal as days go by...
Thanks for the prayers and emails, texts, and FB notes. I appreciate the support. Keep yourself in check people, because this sort of week is something you don't want to do more than once!
Monday, September 26, 2011
what makes us who we are...
I was in the city (Rochester) recently at a home I'm not often at, and when I was outside alone I realized there was a fight beginning to happen within a few hundred feet of me. I was alone in the episode - it was only me noticing what was about to happen... I prayed that the fight wouldn't actually take place, and that the Lord would have his hand over each of the people in the scenario, and actually it didn't happen after all the screaming and yelling at one another. I was surprised, just because hey - it was a late Saturday night, and I thought surely someone would be drunk or stupid enough to being the scuffle. I was grateful for the fact that it didn't end up happening, but found myself walking to the back of the property where I was, even closer to where the fight was about to happen. I had no fear in it - just felt like I wanted to be closer. I thought at one point as I stood close to the fence that maybe a gun would be part of the issue and that possibly I would be a statistic in Rochester's list of deaths/shootings but wasn't afraid. I don't fear death - it'll happen when it happens, and I know the Lord holds my path. I had thoughts of 'what if', thinking it wouldn't be so bad, going to heaven in a sudden and (hopefully) minimally painful way... but alas, the scuffle was not to be. I was fine, and walked away with many thoughts about what makes us who we are.
What makes us do things like that - act out in aggression against others? What makes me the peaceful person who only apologizes to my irate neighbor who is screaming at me from her door for no real reason? Why can't I engage that animal part of me that brings me to a place of anger and hate that I would step outside of my humble life and be the person who people fear? Sometimes I think it wouldn't be so bad... to have something about me that people would see as fearful... uncertain... indecisive... short tempered. What makes me who I am, and what makes those people who they are/were?
I figure it has to be my faith base - knowing what the Lord teaches, and being so ingrained in me that I follow blindly without even a thought of anything else. I know people who are certain of themselves to know that they'd react violently - aggressively - defensively, even if it wasn't their fight. I don't understand that type of mentality. Who are they that makes those decisions okay? Was it their upbringing? A bad incident that brought out the worst in them? I know a man who was in Vietnam, and was shot at... more than 30 years later he was part of a paramedic unit that happened to be near a shooting, and he instantly became a different person. He withdrew and regressed into the man who was in Vietnam. He's never been the same person since. It destroyed his marriage of 20+ years... he lives alone... I don't know what happened, but he needs medication to keep him even... life has become a battle ground for him again, and he can't get beyond it.
I don't know that reality. Vietnam is a part of me, simply because of my father who was part of that war, and the book I put together of his and his friends' photos of their experiences there. They were part of the very early years of the conflict, being called "Advisors" instead of army soldiers... but it makes me wonder what happened in all of that where it could possibly, if my father was here, change him from who he was in my life, to a person in a state of paranoia where he couldn't tell the difference between reality and what he remembered being in the midst of in Vietnam.
In any case, I learned a lesson in my faith that night - being so close to what could have been an ugly confrontation between people I didn't know, but was close enough to for me to be in the mix of the problem. I pray for those people - for them to find Jesus, and to be better people than those who act like animals. I trust what my life will be will affect those types of people, and maybe help them find peace in life... but it's a lifelong effort.
What makes us do things like that - act out in aggression against others? What makes me the peaceful person who only apologizes to my irate neighbor who is screaming at me from her door for no real reason? Why can't I engage that animal part of me that brings me to a place of anger and hate that I would step outside of my humble life and be the person who people fear? Sometimes I think it wouldn't be so bad... to have something about me that people would see as fearful... uncertain... indecisive... short tempered. What makes me who I am, and what makes those people who they are/were?
I figure it has to be my faith base - knowing what the Lord teaches, and being so ingrained in me that I follow blindly without even a thought of anything else. I know people who are certain of themselves to know that they'd react violently - aggressively - defensively, even if it wasn't their fight. I don't understand that type of mentality. Who are they that makes those decisions okay? Was it their upbringing? A bad incident that brought out the worst in them? I know a man who was in Vietnam, and was shot at... more than 30 years later he was part of a paramedic unit that happened to be near a shooting, and he instantly became a different person. He withdrew and regressed into the man who was in Vietnam. He's never been the same person since. It destroyed his marriage of 20+ years... he lives alone... I don't know what happened, but he needs medication to keep him even... life has become a battle ground for him again, and he can't get beyond it.
I don't know that reality. Vietnam is a part of me, simply because of my father who was part of that war, and the book I put together of his and his friends' photos of their experiences there. They were part of the very early years of the conflict, being called "Advisors" instead of army soldiers... but it makes me wonder what happened in all of that where it could possibly, if my father was here, change him from who he was in my life, to a person in a state of paranoia where he couldn't tell the difference between reality and what he remembered being in the midst of in Vietnam.
In any case, I learned a lesson in my faith that night - being so close to what could have been an ugly confrontation between people I didn't know, but was close enough to for me to be in the mix of the problem. I pray for those people - for them to find Jesus, and to be better people than those who act like animals. I trust what my life will be will affect those types of people, and maybe help them find peace in life... but it's a lifelong effort.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Gearing up for Autumn, and hating it.
This is the first year I can say I don't want fall to come... I'm not ready for it. I loved summer this year, even though I sweat myself in half on those 90+ degree days in July. I rarely complained, simply because as I grow older I appreciate the ability to do things outside - walking barefoot out in the grass, smelling the freshly mown lawns... hearing the birds in the trees... it's all so good for the soul. Fall has its place, and about the only thing I can think of that I enjoy (two things) are wearing my comfy warm clothes and not having to make sure all my added stuffing is in proper place, and the colorful canopy across the region. It's beautiful here in the fall, and I'm sure I'd miss it. People who move away say that's one of the main things they miss - having more than one or two seasons. I guess at this point it may take me a few years to miss it, if I was to move away... but then who knows.
Changing seasons causes us within ourselves to change - to think about things - where we're headed, what's ahead of us long and short term... things that come up yearly but we don't really think to heavily about it most of the time. We ready our homes, our wardrobes, our outdoor plants and decorations... ready ourselves mentally for colder mornings, shorter days, and having to wear socks on a regular basis...
All I'm saying is, I'm not ready. I'm growing older, and this 'end of summer' feeling weighs on me. I thoroughly enjoyed my summer, and accomplished a lot while continuing to look for work. You may find me at the local 7-11 cashing drunken passers by out with their candy bars, beer, chips, and cigarettes. If you do, pretend you don't know me... it's just better that way!
Changing seasons causes us within ourselves to change - to think about things - where we're headed, what's ahead of us long and short term... things that come up yearly but we don't really think to heavily about it most of the time. We ready our homes, our wardrobes, our outdoor plants and decorations... ready ourselves mentally for colder mornings, shorter days, and having to wear socks on a regular basis...
All I'm saying is, I'm not ready. I'm growing older, and this 'end of summer' feeling weighs on me. I thoroughly enjoyed my summer, and accomplished a lot while continuing to look for work. You may find me at the local 7-11 cashing drunken passers by out with their candy bars, beer, chips, and cigarettes. If you do, pretend you don't know me... it's just better that way!
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Just need to write it out...
I don't know if anyone else has days like this, but I can't sit and leave it silent. I need to get it out of my heart and somewhere tangible.
There's been a lot of time this last year where I felt like something is just terribly wrong with who I am. That whatever I am just isn't good enough for much of anything. It isn't every day, but days come and go, and I try to fight the feelings, but once in a while they build up to a breaking point. I've tried to change myself - be better, stronger, different. I haven't had a lot of variety in my experiences in life to really broaden me in that regard. There have been things that I feel have made me better, but then the rest of the time I try to fill the void with trinkets or clothes - even changing my hair completely - just to see if THAT would help. It hasn't. These are also the times when I get silent with God. I don't ask anymore - pray anymore... because He isn't talking, and I'm not listening.
I'm scared that all I'll ever be is this woman who couldn't hack it - even at a Christian institution that's always been known for being overly tolerant of too much garbage to even think about. Not me - I wasn't worthy - I was too bad... too weak... too insignificant to keep. I felt like a tiny fish tossed back because I was worthless to the fisherman. I know I should be past this by now - I want to be. Somehow I can't find my worth. I've let a lot slip in this last year. Nothing seems to matter very much. My relationships, my home, my marriage... it's all a mess. Hanging on by threads. I see people trying to better themselves, being successful, struggling but continuing to fight through, and I envy them. Did they have to change this much to get to where they were satisfied with themselves and with life? What makes them try harder, fight harder... I don't bother to ask, because I'm too ashamed to admit my own inner failings.
I don't want people to write me and give me verbal pats on the back for this... it isn't about that. It's within me, and I have to be the one to rise up within and find the strength for another day. I need the Lord, and I know He's somewhere, but sometimes it's too hard to fight through the garbage to try and listen and try to find the encouragement that people say comes through Jesus. It's just hard to be this broken inside, and not know how to fix it.
Anyway, thanks for reading. Today is a lovely day outside, so that in itself is encouraging. Hope is where I'm lacking - not faith, but hope. Hope is so easily missed... but so necessary.
There's been a lot of time this last year where I felt like something is just terribly wrong with who I am. That whatever I am just isn't good enough for much of anything. It isn't every day, but days come and go, and I try to fight the feelings, but once in a while they build up to a breaking point. I've tried to change myself - be better, stronger, different. I haven't had a lot of variety in my experiences in life to really broaden me in that regard. There have been things that I feel have made me better, but then the rest of the time I try to fill the void with trinkets or clothes - even changing my hair completely - just to see if THAT would help. It hasn't. These are also the times when I get silent with God. I don't ask anymore - pray anymore... because He isn't talking, and I'm not listening.
I'm scared that all I'll ever be is this woman who couldn't hack it - even at a Christian institution that's always been known for being overly tolerant of too much garbage to even think about. Not me - I wasn't worthy - I was too bad... too weak... too insignificant to keep. I felt like a tiny fish tossed back because I was worthless to the fisherman. I know I should be past this by now - I want to be. Somehow I can't find my worth. I've let a lot slip in this last year. Nothing seems to matter very much. My relationships, my home, my marriage... it's all a mess. Hanging on by threads. I see people trying to better themselves, being successful, struggling but continuing to fight through, and I envy them. Did they have to change this much to get to where they were satisfied with themselves and with life? What makes them try harder, fight harder... I don't bother to ask, because I'm too ashamed to admit my own inner failings.
I don't want people to write me and give me verbal pats on the back for this... it isn't about that. It's within me, and I have to be the one to rise up within and find the strength for another day. I need the Lord, and I know He's somewhere, but sometimes it's too hard to fight through the garbage to try and listen and try to find the encouragement that people say comes through Jesus. It's just hard to be this broken inside, and not know how to fix it.
Anyway, thanks for reading. Today is a lovely day outside, so that in itself is encouraging. Hope is where I'm lacking - not faith, but hope. Hope is so easily missed... but so necessary.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
San Diego Adventure
I must say, the west coast is lovely... all the time... and coming back to a cold and dismal rainy weekend isn't exactly spectacular in my book. But, I digress. Going to SD wasn't my idea - it was Ben's. He thought it was important for me to get away for just a little while. After going, I agree whole heartedly. I can see myself living there - but the road blocks to that are daunting. Home sales, moving, job finding (sigh), and no connections aside from a few computer gurus that Ben would be working with. The weather is the only thing calling my name anymore, now that the zoo was such a major fail.
Yes, my heart was ready to see things I'd never seen before. Experience things I'd never done before... and the first day there, I definitely did. I honestly had such high hopes for the SD zoo - all that I'd read about their work with saving the panda population, keeping such a magnificent facility as to being the best zoo in the country (rankings on several google'd sites)... my heart was ready. To top it off, a position available - with elephants! How was this not a gift of the Lord? I'd been so parched for a word from God on what my life's path might be... I was ready for this to be His answer. It wasn't. The door was shut straight away in my face as I asked about the position at the HR department when I first arrived. Fail number one. Then, deciding that I'd paid my ticket to see the zoo already, I was anxious to see all the splendor that this place would have. How well the animals were kept, the spacious and lush environments made carefully and specifically for each individual animal species they cared for. Fail number two. As I approached where I'd longed to see - the elephant experience, I began to cry. It was nothing like it should be. It was so not right... after seeing how pristine and glorious the elephant sanctuary in TN was, this was down right ghetto comparatively. My tears were masked by my sunglasses so people wouldn't see... but I searched the entire habitat for some ray of hope for those poor creatures. Nothing. Dry, steel structures for their 'shelter', no grasses, no trees... rocks and dirt. No ponds or mud to frolic in - nothing. My heart was broken. It still is...
Ben knew the main reason for going with him was to finally see this place, and with such a disappointing outcome, he graciously left work early and took me to the ocean - the second reason I wanted to go. I'd never been to the ocean, never been in it, or stopped at its edge to view it and all its power... we enjoyed it. Although I have to say, getting a hefty gulp of sea water is not pleasant. Plus, CA waters are cold... that's why they don't get hurricanes over there. The water doesn't allow enough heat to cause storms of that magnitude (another plus for west coast living). I got past my disappointment, and day two was just for me... ocean again, photos, a trip to a completely overpriced mall, and dinner out at an ethiopian restaurant with Ben's coworkers. That was fun, although me and ethiopian food - not so much. Then came the long boring trip home across the country. That's always tough... dead tired from getting up at 4 a.m. in order to make a 6 a.m. flight... sigh. Glad it's over.
For me, a new experience did my soul good... I was happy to have done and seen all that I did, all things considered. I've gained wisdom in knowing I will never work for a zoo in my lifetime. Foolish me thought this place would be different, but alas... it wasn't. And never will be. Bravo on the good work they do with endangered species, but there's great need for improvement all the way around.
Back to reality, and once again feeling dried up and useless. I did come up with an idea after being inspired by a painting that was just such a happy and simple piece - I know I can do the same. I just hope I can pull it off and find success in it. Time will tell. Meanwhile, I'll post photos as I get them ready for computer viewing. It's a beautiful place - sunny, warm, and lovely things growing all the time - flowers, succulents, flowering shrubs, you name it. Color is everywhere. No wonder so many creatives live in that part of the world. It's inspiring. Don't be surprised if I change my mind about moving away... it would be tough, but worth it - at least for a little while. :)
Yes, my heart was ready to see things I'd never seen before. Experience things I'd never done before... and the first day there, I definitely did. I honestly had such high hopes for the SD zoo - all that I'd read about their work with saving the panda population, keeping such a magnificent facility as to being the best zoo in the country (rankings on several google'd sites)... my heart was ready. To top it off, a position available - with elephants! How was this not a gift of the Lord? I'd been so parched for a word from God on what my life's path might be... I was ready for this to be His answer. It wasn't. The door was shut straight away in my face as I asked about the position at the HR department when I first arrived. Fail number one. Then, deciding that I'd paid my ticket to see the zoo already, I was anxious to see all the splendor that this place would have. How well the animals were kept, the spacious and lush environments made carefully and specifically for each individual animal species they cared for. Fail number two. As I approached where I'd longed to see - the elephant experience, I began to cry. It was nothing like it should be. It was so not right... after seeing how pristine and glorious the elephant sanctuary in TN was, this was down right ghetto comparatively. My tears were masked by my sunglasses so people wouldn't see... but I searched the entire habitat for some ray of hope for those poor creatures. Nothing. Dry, steel structures for their 'shelter', no grasses, no trees... rocks and dirt. No ponds or mud to frolic in - nothing. My heart was broken. It still is...
Ben knew the main reason for going with him was to finally see this place, and with such a disappointing outcome, he graciously left work early and took me to the ocean - the second reason I wanted to go. I'd never been to the ocean, never been in it, or stopped at its edge to view it and all its power... we enjoyed it. Although I have to say, getting a hefty gulp of sea water is not pleasant. Plus, CA waters are cold... that's why they don't get hurricanes over there. The water doesn't allow enough heat to cause storms of that magnitude (another plus for west coast living). I got past my disappointment, and day two was just for me... ocean again, photos, a trip to a completely overpriced mall, and dinner out at an ethiopian restaurant with Ben's coworkers. That was fun, although me and ethiopian food - not so much. Then came the long boring trip home across the country. That's always tough... dead tired from getting up at 4 a.m. in order to make a 6 a.m. flight... sigh. Glad it's over.
For me, a new experience did my soul good... I was happy to have done and seen all that I did, all things considered. I've gained wisdom in knowing I will never work for a zoo in my lifetime. Foolish me thought this place would be different, but alas... it wasn't. And never will be. Bravo on the good work they do with endangered species, but there's great need for improvement all the way around.
Back to reality, and once again feeling dried up and useless. I did come up with an idea after being inspired by a painting that was just such a happy and simple piece - I know I can do the same. I just hope I can pull it off and find success in it. Time will tell. Meanwhile, I'll post photos as I get them ready for computer viewing. It's a beautiful place - sunny, warm, and lovely things growing all the time - flowers, succulents, flowering shrubs, you name it. Color is everywhere. No wonder so many creatives live in that part of the world. It's inspiring. Don't be surprised if I change my mind about moving away... it would be tough, but worth it - at least for a little while. :)
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