It's Mardi Gras!

Today is Mardi Gras day and I miss home.

I miss the insanity, the days off from school and work, the holding of parade spots, the king cakes, the insanity, the rush and push and more insanity.


Growing up in New Orleans it doesn't occur to you that other cities don't do this every year. That everyone isn't off work, well almost everyone since people still need to eat and shop and get gas etc.
You don't realize that seeing drunk people at 7am on a weekday is a big deal in other places. You don't realize that not everyone knows not to slap the police horse's rear end.


I miss my home.
I miss my friends.
I miss hearing Mardi Gras music everywhere. "Mardi Gras mambo, mambo...."
I miss staying out for days at a time, running around until your feet hurt no matter what kind of shoes you wore, encountering "odd" people, watching tourists because you can spot them a mile away and meeting strangers who later become friends (if you remember them later.)


I have so many memories of Mardi Gras with my family and later my friends. Pretending that we were English or dancing with strangers on bars or seeing the usual suspects in the French Quarter. Avoiding tv cameras, well any cameras for that matter. No one wanted to be caught on tape!
I miss Mardi Gras, but I'm happy that there continues to be a Mardi Gras in New Orleans.

Happy Mardi Gras everyone!

Family

An email from my mom today:

Mom: You know your grandmother will be 80 years old next month?
(My maternal grandmother. My paternal grandmother turns 101 this month.)

Me: My grandmother will be 81 years old next month.
(I'm probably going to pay for that later.)

The Link Between Linen Pillows and Rocky Horror

If you've ever been to my home you know that I like pillows. Big pillows, cotton pillows, linen pillows, small pillows, cotton floor cushions (aka LARGE pillows), arm rest pillows (ok, they came with the sofa). Pillows, pillows, pillows.

Several years ago I found these nice linen covered pillows at a discount store. I favored these linen pillows. Over several years the pillows began to leak their stuffing. One by one I've had to say goodbye to them when sewing the edges no longer worked.

And now I am down to my last linen pillow.

This morning I woke up with the last pillow of its kind and went straight to brush my teeth. Looking in the mirrow I realized that this last linen pillow reminded me of the first time I saw the Rocky Horror Picture Show. My friends had all seen it and we go together for my birthday. What no one warned me about was the rice. Someone should always warned others about things that could take up residence in your hair. If someone had said something I would have worn a hat. I enjoyed the movie but I kept finding rice in places, mainly my hair, for two weeks AFTER the movie.

So this morning brushing my teeth in the mirror I was reminded of Rocky Horror because I have little, white tuffs of pillow stuffin in my dreadlocks.
Great.
I am sure I'll be finding little white surprises for weeks. I love my hair, but it does has a hoarding problem.
I can only imagine what people behind me in line at the grocery store will think.

Is it me?

The other night, after my run, I realized I'd somehow caught a cold. I was fine before the run, or at least I felt fine. Afterwards the sneezing started.

I went for a run early in the evening. I used to run daily, but with moving and travel for work got out of the habit. Running for me is important for two reasons: 1) weight control/toning and 2) stress relief. When I run my mind goes blank, which I look forward to happening. I'm always thinking and I welcome my time to focus on nothing.

The weather has been nuts here lately, warm, then cold then overcast with a chance of rain (yet no rain appears) and back to warm and then cold all over again. I put on a sweatshirt that I'd forgotten I had and went out to relieve stress and start getting back into shape. All was fine until I noticed this truck slowing down next to me. Okay, fine, whatever.

I put on my really mean face (people always ask why I'm so pissed off when I run), to show that I wasn't interested. I was jogging. Unfortunately my mean jogger face didn't deter this guy - he drove back and forth and back again, over and over. I yelled that he was being, "#*&@! creepy!" And yet he continued to follow me no matter how mean I looked or how often I crossed the street.

And I complain that men never ask me out on dates.

This unwanted and creepy attention was really pissing me off. Are there prostitutes that jog to attract customers? Is there a group of call girls that work out as a way to entice creepy men? Forget police stings on prostitution, just send some female officers out for a jog. Seriously, why would a woman in bulky sweat clothes remind anyone of a prostitute?!


I couldn't just enjoy my run and I was becoming more stressed rather than less stressed. Finally I flagged down a cop and let him deal with the creepy truck guy. He was nice about it and drove around until I got back to my house. My run was ruined by some idiot and when I got home the sneezing started.

The next morning I was sure that I'd caught a cold. Bleh. So I went to get some herbal tea and homeopathic medicine. I get the medicine without incident and head over to get some tea at a local coffeeshop. For some reason I'm surrounded by cops, not one or three, but no less than six. I drink my tea, thinking positive thoughts about beating this cold, and I notice the guy sitting in front of my table has his camera phone pointing at me. Seems he was trying to "read" some text message - except he wasn't trying to read anything. He kept that phone trained on me the entire time. As soon as I noticed I put my sweater over my front and my book in my face.

The best part? Camera phone guy was there with his wife and trying to get a photo/video of me while the wife sat there. She didn't have a clue and she never looked at his phone.
He finally put it away after I kept the book up and gave him a pissed look.

Why do all the perverts like me?!

Where did the week go?

It's amazing how quickly time disappears when you're off from work. I've been off for one week and I'm wondering why I haven't accomplished much and how the time went so quickly.

A week at work feels like longer than five days. A week off from work feels like one day.

Okay, daily photo in preparation for the 365 Project that I'll officially start (ACK!) on the first day of 2009. Be prepared for some not so flattering photos until I get

1) get to know more about taking self portraits that look like what I see in the mirror

2) get a better camera

3) learn to take better photos while not fearing the camera!

I hope that everyone's holidays are going well - and I don't mean in the Halmark way either. My holidays are rarely of the Halmark variety. :P

I finally

Put up my Christmas tree.

I dragged it from my storage unit last week. I was filled with the idea that I'd put that tree up the minute I got it in the house. And then it sat for a week.

Last night, as the weather in Austin went from 81 degrees to 40 degrees, I finally put the tree up. Each year I have the idea of a picture perfect vision, the tree, the decorations, the lights....and each year I feel like a failure before I ever take the tree out of the box.

But I managed to get it done last night. The photo is sort of bright, but I love how the tree looks. I went down to see it from the street below and in the darkness it is a bright spot.

Not perfection, not picture perfect, but accomplished none the less.

Morning

I am a morning person. Early mornings. VERY early mornings.

I'm not sure if my body is programmed to like the morning best or if I learned it from my family. My mom was a single mother and in college, I was the first grandchild and we lived with my grandparents for a few years. I spent a LOT of time with my grandparents, Paw-paw and Gang-gan, until I moved away from New Orleans nine years ago. I think because I grew up in their house, and then later blocks away, help me have a close relationship with them.

I "ran away" from home a handful of times in my teens - well, I ran to my grandparent's house. I had my own room and another set of pets there. What always bothered me is that my mom never looked for me. Sure, she'd call my grandparents and talk about her day, but she'd never ask if I was there. Years later she told me that she knew I was there...apparently she and my grandmother had worked out a system.


Living with my grandparents meant hearing Paw-paw get ready for work while Gang-gan made his breakfast at 4am. At first I'd sleep until I heard my grandfather leave the house. Then one winter, I realized that if I got up with him my grandpa would share the hot cocoa my grandma made for his thermos.

And from that time on I got up early with both of them and I still get up early. At work I like the early shift and up until three years ago, I woke at 5am and was at work by 6am. There are benefits to going into work early - no traffic. (And I'm crazy in traffic.)

I'm babbling now. My point is that I love mornings; they connect me with my grandparents, now in their 80s.
The mornings are full of possibilities...which sometimes become realities....or not. With work and school it can be easy to forget that the day ahead could bring something unexpectedly great and clarity on some issue/problem from the day prior.
Recently I agreed to take a photo a day for one year, starting 1/1/09. Robin and Wendy are doing this also, so I don't feel so alone. And again, I HATE photos of myself, so I'm trying to get myself ready.
These are photos from my morning:
3) Bootini - since Noona passed he's taken up the role of following my every move in the mornings. Noona would be proud...or annoyed.
2) Second step of the morning - Gabby and his quest for the elixir known as shower water. Seriously, he goes nuts if I don't do this right away.
1) Me - with both cats in the exact same positions. It's a tough crowd sometimes.

Stepping out on a thin branch.

Since I can remember I've had a camera. I loved taking photos of relatives and pets as a kid.
One of my first toys was a Fisher-Price toy camera. I can still here the dull click sound it made when I "took" a photo.

I LOVED that camera.

I don't know if I ever told my mom this or she noticed on her own, but when I got a little older she gave me a real camera. I was the only 8 year old I knew with her own camera. Nevermind that most of the photos were of my family and all my pets.
I'm sure the drugstore loved developing roll after roll of my bunny, cats, hamsters and dogs. My mom was a single parent going to college. In hindsight I'm sure that buying film and those cube flashes and cost her money she could have used on other things. She never said a word to me when I'd dump film in her purse for developing. She never said, "Enough cat photos!" She allowed me to take my photos no matter how mundane.


I still love photography. I still want a really nice camera and lessons on light composition and all the technical things that would help me. I want to capture a moment well enough to share that moment with others. These moments, like my childhood photographs, are never photos of me. I discovered early on that I didn't like photographs of myself. I would pose for them with family during the holidays or some celebration and then just before the click...I would duck out of sight. My family has quite a few photos of everyone and my hands or the very top of my head.


I have reasons for not wanting my image captured that have nothing to do with America's Most Wanted, but these are all personal. And after a conversation with Robin, I've discovered that my reasons aren't so different from the reasons others don't like to be photographed.


All of this brings me to this moment. This weekend Robin suggested doing something others have done, taking a single self- portrait daily for 365 days, one year. Sounds simple for those unafraid of the camera, but not so simple for someone like me.

I want to grow and not just be comfortable in what I already know or have or have experienced. I want to reconcile my brain's image with the camera image. My growth starts on 1/1/09 and I'm interested and terrified of what might happen, but I'm doing it.
Thanks for the idea Robs.

Funk. I had it.

I realized yesterday that despite all the great things in my life, I've been in a funk. For some time. I feel like it sneaked up on me while I was juggling (sometimes poorly) work, school, my place and life.
The funk came to visit and never left.


I want the funk to leave and I've started taking steps to help it find its way to someone or something else. Having been excited about the new person I met, our talks and date, has been great. And I think that having this person persistently pursue me as I pushed him away has made me see my funk. I wouldn't allow him in and rejected him several times, but each time he came back... And finally I realized that I was just creating excuses not to see what would or could happen. The funk will do that - it will convince you that you're better off as you are currently. I am glad I realized that and allowed him into my life because he's a great guy.


It is amazing how once you let someone into your life you expect that connectedness daily. It happens fast.


But I sense he may be pulling away now that I've allowed him into my life. And for the first time in some time, I am not taking his distancing personally. In the past I would have taken it very personally; as a sign that something was wrong with me. Not now, nope.

He is his own person with his own complex issues. So I am allowing him the chance to distance himself or see what happens between us. It feels liberating not to try to figure out what happened or worry about what might happen and to let go of the funk I'd been feeling for some time.

I did it

I finally let go and let someone ask me out. If you know me you are aware that I'd rather walk down a dark and dangerous alley at night than date.

My dates don't go well. If they do (which is RARE) it usually doesn't lead to a second date. Which always make me think, how can two people have a very similar experience yet such a different experience?

I've gone on dates with men who wore utili-kilts. I've got nothing against men in skirts, but I don't want to date one. There are just some things that don't suit me and men in skirts are one of those things.


So someone's been asking me out and I've been putting him off. Okay, I've been saying no, no, no. I made excuses to myself and to him. And then one day I decided that I didn't want to be friends.
I knew there were other women interested in him, so I figured I'd disappear and he wouldn't notice. Apparently he did. We talked and I finally relented.

And I had a great time. I'm actually looking forward to a second date.

Argh.

Lately I've begun to feel like a hamster on a wheel to nowhere.

While I know that I'm working towards a goal, well several goals, it sometimes feels like I'm not moving. After this semester I will have two classes to graduate - two. While that makes me happy it also feels like forever.
And at times it feels anti-climatic. A lot of things feel that way.


I've been struggling for some time now on which color to paint my loft. I know this seems like an easy task but it isn't. I've tried out at least eight wall colors. EIGHT. I've learned that what looks good on paper or in print...may NOT look good otherwise. I think I'm a visual person and it helps me to see the paint on the wall.
I'm not able to imagine what it might look like on the wall, I need it to actually be on the walls. As a result I have five different paint colors on my walls.

Mix the paint issues with school, co-worker drama, incomplete home projects and the stress of dating, or rather not dating, and you get the picture.
I'm starting to withdraw from everything. I don't care to answer the phone or do anything social. Somehow having great grades and the prospect of graduate school aren't enough right now.

I know it isn't rational to think I could have the perfect home, perfect grades, excellent co-workers and endless dating partners. This doesn't mean I don't still try or want those things. I feel like I'm just going through the motions.

Too many shiny things

A friend recently told me that I had high expectations. Initially I was offended because it made me sound like a lot of work. But I realized that she's right, I do have high expectations. I just didn't realize this was a bad trait.


I have high expectations of people. And I'm okay with that. I'm also open to people changing their mind or doing something different, but I do expect that to be communicated. I am not a mind reader.
So, my friend is right. I do have high expectations.

Three day weekends

It's a holiday weekend which means I have three days off from work. The thought of having three days off after the week preceeding those three days off was exciting.

My office is undergoing construction. And while you would think everyone in the office would be suffering due to the noise, dust, various workmen, multiple construction comments and questions, dirty boot prints, mysteriously loud cell phones that play country or rock or surprisingly techno....everyone is NOT suffering. But I am. It seems that all the construction and destruction needs to occur to the left of my desk. It is very stressful. Who am I kidding? It is driving me nuts and not in a funny, we'll laugh about this later way either.

So the idea of a three day weekend has tempted me for months. I thought of all the projects I could complete, or at least start, around the house. I could prime the walls for painting, organize my paperwork, re-arrange my furniture, read extra chapters for class, run each morning, learn german. Yes, yes, I think of ALL the things I can do in three days and the thought of accomplishing one or four of those things is so exciting. I get exciting just thinking about finally having the time and energy to all these unfinished projects.

It's nice to dream.

It is. Where would we be without dreams? So, rather than doing any of the projects that have been taunting me for some time there's a hurricane brewing in the Gulf that forced my entire family to leave New Orleans within days of the anniversary of Katrina. Each of my family members have gone to different locations. In the midst of all of this my great grandmother passed away early Saturday morning. So I woke to a morning filled with hurricane plans mixed with calls from family members each having the other contact other family members with the news.
I spent HOURS online and on the phone finding a hotel with any available rooms. I've sent enough texts to go nuts. I won't count the phone calls in and out but I've used more minutes this weekend than I use in a whole month.

And my great grandmother is gone. Last year we all got together and celebrated her 100th birthday. In October she would have been 101 years old - thinking of this makes me sad. But I remember something she said to me and my mother at the ripe age of 96 years old. We had gone to see her, something my mother did often, and she asked me to comb her hair. This terrified me since I don't even comb my own hair. When it comes to hair and styling it I am clueless. But she told me what to do and I followed her instructions. I was terrified I'd hurt her.
As she talked she said that she was tired. We thought she was ready for bed, but she explained that her mind was alert but that her body was tired. I didn't take her seriously because she was really alive and present and not senile. How could she be tired of living? She explained and it helped me understand as much as I could comprehend living that long when so many people you loved had passed away. Yes, her son, my grandfather and her 90 year old sister are still alive, but so many others she's loved have left. And she was tired herself of course.

I don't know. I'm sad that she's gone but happy that she is no longer suffering. I think about her seeing my aunt and cousin. I know from my mom that in recent months she'd spoken about seeing her mother again. My great grandmother was 100 and her mother died when she was an 11 year old child.
That's 89 years of waiting to see your mother again. I'm sad, but I pray that my great grandmother is free of pain and has seen her mother again.

Bedtime series

In some ways I'm a creature of habit.
I'm spontaneous too, but there are some rituals I like to keep including when I go to bed.
I go to bed early.
There - my secret is out. But I wake up early and don't usually sleep the whole night through so going to bed early is a must.
I go to bed and the cats go to bed. It works for me.

Each night within seconds of me getting into bed Noona got into bed also. For 12 years he curled up behind my head and snored until it was time to do it all over again. I thought he and I would sleep that way forever. I miss his snoring and watching him dream.

My Noona cat is unfortunately now gone.

Boo has taken over his bedtime job with a slight twist, he sleeps in front on me. I decided that I'd take photos of this for one month.
Of course taking these photos means you get to see me just before bed. Hold your excitment please.

Are you sure we're already in mid-August?

Where does the time go.
Specifically where do the months go? I feel like I'm on a hamster wheel trying to keep track of the day or month or year and this month is no exception.
I feel like just yesterday I commented on how it was August already and now August is on its way out. I know, I know, you're thinking that I'm old if I've somehow lost track of time, but I was the same way as a kid. I have already had trouble with time and yes, often I'm a few minutes late to everything. At least I'm consistant, right?

I'm trying to enjoy this time. I'm between classes and work is somewhat quiet this time of year. While I'm grateful for the end of summer course and getting a 4.0, I'm also tired and not ready for the fall. But this will be my last fall as an undergraduate. I have three classes to graduate. (With working full time this will take both the fall and spring semesters.) Fortunately these are my last three classes and I have a scholarship that helps pay for this coming year. I'm both excited and terrified....because now I'm applying to graduate school. I'd like to get my PhD or PsyD but that will certainly mean moving away. Or I could get my Masters right here in town and then later work on earning a PhD.
But - there's always a but somewhere.
I'd like to get my doctorate now and I worry that not doing now may mean that I never earn one. No, it won't be the end of the world and yet I don't want to not earn one. I'm applying to schools now so we shall see what happens.

One of my best friends is serving in Iraq. She's left her most prized item in my care, her cat Gabriel who I call Gabzilla, Gabby the Hun or GabbyTabba. (He's an orange tabby who is on the blond side.)
Anyway, here are some photos of him and my kitty Boo. Yes, I do need to get a life.

I clench.

Each morning I wake up to the same routine. I am greeted by the cats – they wait patiently for me to stop hitting snooze. Of course they purr so loudly I never really fall back asleep. The minute I put my feet on the floor, dry contacts or not, I carefully make my way to the bathroom – Gabby must have shower water. Then I am herded to the kitchen, Bootini must have fresh kibble in his bowl.


When I'm finished I am free to get ready for work and that starts with brushing my teeth before taking a shower. Two months ago I realized I'd chipped a tooth in my sleep. I went to work and made an appointment to see the dentist immediately.


When I arrived I found out that unfortunately my dentist, who I love, passed away since the last time I had any dental work done. I really liked him because he was kind and funny and sometimes flirty, but he always made sure I didn't feel anything. (I have a high tolerance and it can take six to eight shots before I'm numb. And that numbness doesn't last long so the dentist has to work quickly.)

My dentist never made me feel like a freak for needing so many shots. I had searched for some time in Austin for a good dentist because I had others who didn't believe my tolerance was that high. If you cause me pain you will not be my doctor, besides who gets off on having a numb mouth?



After another dentist failed to fix the chipped tooth I was assigned to the partner of my previous dentist. He fixed my tooth, gave me something for the pain and off I went. But the pain never went away and I realized I couldn't eat on that side of my mouth.

A week later I noticed another tooth was throbbing and I reluctantly made another dentist appointment. The day before the appointment the tooth that was hurting stopped and another tooth on the other side began to hurt. When I went in for my appointment they took x-rays and I was sure they would see what was wrong with so many of my teeth.



I'm in the chair wearing that bib they give you (which always make me think of people whacking the shite outta crabs) and my dentist comes in to say that nothing is wrong with my teeth. I just look at him. My teeth have been hurting and I'm aware that my dentist will think I'm nuts if I say that different teeth have been hurting so something must be wrong with the x-rays. But I say nothing. I am not a hypochondriac and I know I'm not crazy – even though most crazy people think they are fine.



My dentist then asks if the pain travels and I reluctantly admit that yes, different teeth have caused me pain on different days. He then asks more questions and hooray I think…. maybe I am not crazy after all.

It turns out that I clench my jaw all the time – the dentist said I'd been doing it for some time based on my jaw muscles. (I also grind my teeth at night – hooray! That must make me a joy to sleep near.)

So I'm not really crazy, but now I have to wear the weirdest mouth piece that makes me talk with a lisp.

Ok, new start

For sometime now I've had the biggest crush on one of my neighbors. I don't know what it is about him, but couldn't name one thing. I just think he's cute and when he smiles at me it feels really, really nice.
But - there is always a but huh? But he's had this girlfriend for a while. She's very pretty and young. He is not young - which I like, but he's with this very young woman - which for the life of me I don't get outside of the biological "men want to ensure they have a next generation garbage." (And even then I still don't get it.)
He's never called her his girlfriend in my presence which bothers me as a woman, but also tells me something is not right in that relationship.
Anyway, I've had a crush for a while and he and I smile at each other, but I'm tired of this game. Besides I don't think what I'm doing is exactly right either - ok, I know it isn't right. I could and would not ever date a man that didn't finalize his past relationship first. I also don't like the idea of flirting while he clearly has a girlfriend so I'm stopping.
That's it. I just needed to get that off my chest.

Deployment, birthdays and school

Tomorrow's the birthday and I can't say that I've thought about it much with all end of the semester assignments I have to complete. I've spent more time at the library in the past few days than I've EVER spent at the library. (Ok, that may not be entirely true, but I've put in some long hours in the university's library.)

I magically thought I could finish them all by Friday. Ha! There's a name for that isn't there? Where you underestimate the amount of time it takes to complete a task? I know there's a word for that - and that I certainly could have my photo in the dictionary next to its explanation. Although I have two more papers to complete, I've written three in three days - no small thing.

My friend deployed for Iraq this morning. I write that and still can't believe it. I can't wrap my brain around that even though her cat is sleeping next to me. (He'll live with me during her tour.) Even though she had to:
- turn her life upside down
- had to sell most of her things
-bring her cat to Texas to live with me
and
-had to fight her apartment complex (they said she was breaking her lease- nevermind being deployed)
she still remembered my birthday and made sure I got flowers. She sent a note apologizing for having to send them two days early.

I don't know. What do I say? Her cat, Gabby, will be well taken care of and my cat Boo loves him already. I don't know. What can I say?

I'm going to focus on finishing this semester right now. Later I'll focus on sending her packages and photo/video hijinx of her beloved Gabito.

Tomorrow is my birthday and I'm planning a lowkey day. I think I've planned almost all birthdays that way once I left my early 20s. I'll have brunch with some friends, do more homework, maybe get a mani/pedi, talk to family and friends.

I'd like to make some changes this year and one of them includes flirting again. I looking forward to flirting with someone I think is interesting, nice and attractive. I'm really rusty at it so wish me luck.

A lot can happen in five months

The last time I wrote here I was in summer school.

I finished with a 4.0 and it was a lot of work with a full-time job. Notice I didn't say it was hard to do it and "have a life". I did my best to live in the moment when I got my grades, because as exciting as it is to earn a 4.0, that feeling doesn't last. I reminded myself to remember that moment when I had a bad moment or a bad day.
I started classes in the fall and realized I was having a chronic pain that got worse and worse. I decided to withdraw for the semester when it looked like I might need surgery. I feel blessed that I didn't have to have surgery and the pain has gone.

I still haven't painted my loft. I finally found a painting technique that I loved - unfortunately 'Blueprint' went out of circulation the following week. I'd emailed them asking for the name of or how to do the technique. Boooo! I really, really need to get this done.

Last October my great grandmother celebrated her 100th birthday. I went home and drove to Mississippi with my family. I took lots of photos and videos - my 80 year old grandpa is on video telling jokes about growing up. I know many people don't still have their grandparents at my age, not to mention great grandparents.
In my twenties when I'd tell people about some family function etc, people would ask me about having grandparents and I'd tell them about my great grandparents. I know that I'm blessed to still have them and I realized that years ago. My grandparents helped mold me into the person I am today. They allowed me to be as outrageous and unique and quirky as I needed to be.
I would show up at their house with purple or green or no hair. I'd show up with my cat Sidney in my backpack - we would ride on my bike to their house daily. I'd be in the car for family trips with my hamster (and hamster ball, supplies etc) hidden...I think they knew I would probably bring my pets - they were family too.
And when I was struggling about coming home for Christmas because my Noona - my grandpa called just to say that he loved me. No one questioned whether I'd come home or not if Noona was sick - they know how much I love Noona. (I'll write about my Noona later....or not. I'm just not there yet and I want to keep the last moments between me and him in some ways.)
So, yeah I feel blessed to have grandparents and great grandparents.

Because I realize that I've avoided dating too long (at one point for 12 years) and decided to try going on blind dates. I am torn between writing about the dates or almost dates and not writing about them. I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings because I wouldn't want that done to me.
So, I'll tell you that I went on a few dates. All the men were nice and interesting, even the one that liked to wear kilts out socially. (Some girlfriends said this wasn't bad - I disagree completely as they wouldn't be the grown woman out in public with a man in a kilt at the movies on Friday night.)
I hit it off with one of them - we had a lot in common, he'd lived in my birth city and we even knew some of the same people. We went on several dates, but I felt like I was in one place in my life and he was in another. Luckily that one just faded away.
I don't have any more dates scheduled, but we'll see... Actually, I'm not actively looking - if someone should approach me great, if not I'll live.

Lastly - one of my best friends is scheduled to go to Iraq. My godcat, her kitty, will come and live with me while she is away. I don't know what to say other than, I love that kitty, but I would much rather his mother didn't have to go there. I would rather if no one's son or daughter or husband or wife or sister or brother had to go to war ever again.

The summer semester ends

The summer semester has finally ended. I'm not sure what I was thinking when I decided that I could handle the hectic pace of summer classes, TWO CLASSES by the way, and work and volunteering and having a life. Scratch that last part - I didn't have a life this summer. I didn't even manage to clean my house this summer so having a social life or reading a book for fun or even doing laundry and dishes became more than I could handle most days.

I felt like I was doing okay most of the summer, well if treading water is doing fine. But at the end of the semester it was like everyone piled stuff on and on and on. I would read to before class only to be behind the next day. And don't get me started on 'blackboard' and having a group assignment! By the end of it I remembered exactly why I despised group projects - having to rely on the group rather than working at my own pace. By the end of the semester I was over the whole group project; I didn't even want to hear the words "group" and "project" together in a sentence! (I liked/like my classmates, but when some of them don't work and you do - well, you can finish that sentence.) I don't want to talk about ethics every spare moment I get.

Ok, I'm climbing down from the ledge now. I'm just glad summer is over. It is hard juggling work fulltime, volunteering and school fulltime. And at the end of this semester I really had a minute when I just felt over it all. Anyone that says school isn't work is insane. I'm not sure how I've managed these two semesters, but I'm exhausted.

I was asked to participate in a pilot program for the agency I volunteer with weekly. Because I want to help I agreed to participate. And then the person leading the program proceeded to call me during work hours (which I said NOT to do) and then call my cell repeatedly in the evenings. So this morning I declined to help them. I am acknowledging that my time for me is my time. When I get a spare 30 minutes or hour I don't want to be obligated to do or be or whatever someone else wants. Whew! It feels good to say, "NO". I think I'm going to start saying it more often - I just need time to myself and what I want. I’m amazed to find that I had put myself in a position of not saying “No” to people, but I realized that is exactly what I had done. So, now I’m saying no, no, no, no if it doesn’t suit me at the time and interrupts what little time I get for myself.


As for the summer semester, grades are finally posted and I’ve managed at 4.0 for all classes and that makes me happy. I’m going to celebrate by not committing to anything until I have to start school again for the Fall – a whole 12 days!