Now 29

Why I Would Never Want To Be A Realtor

2008-02-08T12:24:00.000-08:00

Whoever said househunting is fun should A) never look with my husband and B) experience a "short drop with a sudden stop."

For weeks Brad and I have looked at homes in the Greenville area. Homes are aplenty for buyers with the overloaded, adjustable-rate mortgage-flooded market as it is. However, in order to not join the weary, woebegone foreclosed masses, we have to look at homes in a certain price range. They are many. They are varied. Some should just be raized and put out of their misery. Others will not come down low enough for us to afford it comfortably (damn them).

We got really close last week. At least, we thought we had. We put an offer down. It was reviewed. The treat was held before us and we were salivating. We went to Lowe's and Home Depot and thought of every conceiveable way we could improve THAT house. Then, after a few counter offers, they refused to go any lower, we refused to go any higher, and that, my friends, was "The End" of that.

So, now we're back to hunting. And it's exhausting. Who knew that just looking at houses could be so tiring? It's absolutely annoying to be so concentrated on one objective ALL THE TIME!!!!!

All I want is a few quiet, uninterrupted weekend hours to sit somewhere with some coffee and a good book to escape reality. Is that so much to ask?

On a better ending note, the musical Spamalot is coming to Greenville soon and I got some premotional coconut-flavored lip balm today that promises it was not tested on either African or European swallows. I'm immensely pleased by this.

My Thought for the Day

2007-12-13T12:24:00.000-08:00

"Closer To Fine" - The Indigo Girls

I'm trying to tell you something about my life
Maybe give me insight between black and white
The best thing you've ever done for meIs to help me take my life less seriously,
it's only life after all

Well darkness has a hunger that's insatiable
And lightness has a call that's hard to hear
I wrap my fear around me like a blanket
I sailed my ship of safety till I sank it,
I'm crawling on your shore.

I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountain
There's more than one answer to these questionspointing me in crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive
The closer I am to fine.

I went to see the doctor of philosophy
With a poster of Rasputin and a beard down to his knee
He never did marry or see a B-grade movie
He graded my performance, he said he could see through me
I spent four years prostrate to the higher mind, got my paperAnd I was free.

I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountain
There's more than one answer to these questionspointing me in crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive
The closer I am to fine.

I stopped by the bar at 3 a.m.
To seek solace in a bottle or possibly a friend
I woke up with a headache like my head against a board
Twice as cloudy as I'd been the night before
I went in seeking clarity.

I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountain
There's more than one answer to these questionspointing me in crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive
The closer I am to fine.

I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountain
There's more than one answer to these questionspointing me in crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive
The closer I am to fine.

We go to the bible, we go through the workout
We read up on revival and we stand up for the lookout
There's more than one answer to these questionspointing me in a crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive
The closer I am to fine
The closer I am to fine
The closer I am to fine

I've had really interesting conversations about what is "right" and what is "wrong lately." What is "black" and what is "white." And centered in these conversations is the idea of, what is our responsibility to ourselves, our families, our communities, our country and our world.

We seem, as a country, to want definitives. As Americans, we don't like having to take a "side." That would require an action on our part. We'd rather passively accept what is spoon-fed to us and then forever gripe about the wrongness of the people doing the feeding. We don't want responsibility.

At the same time, we don't want people forcing us to do one thing or another. We demand absolute freedom and make a mockery of conventions.

Over the past several years, I've seriously been looking at the world outside of the lexicon in which I was raised, and I still haven't come up with a "definitive."

Today, this song struck a chord with me. Because for once, I feel like it's okay that I don't have a definitive answer. And I might just be better off without some.

Bah Humbug!

2007-12-10T12:26:00.000-08:00

I am eternally grateful that I don't live in Hawaii. Christmas would be a real bummer there. It's almost painful to listen to Christmas carols when it's freaking 80 degrees outside!

So much for Frosty!

*Disclaimer: for those of you who are up North and suffering from cold, snow, ice or all three, I apologize my Southern climate is confused as to what time of year it is.

Cow Pastures and Billboards

2007-12-07T12:07:00.000-08:00

I was surfing the blog world of some of my friends' friends, listening to some swingin' jazzy Christmas music, and ran accross a blog that made me think. He was talking about forgiveness. It's such a maldefined word these days. It's elusive. It's concrete. It's oppressive. It's easy as pie. It's wiping a slate clean. It's lording superiority. The list goes on and on.

The forgiveness he was talking about is the Christian definition of forgiveness, which has gone through so many translations, who knows what the truth is. Is it the ancient Arabic definition - selflessness and a sense "justice" has been served, or is it the Greek - "ethos" and "pathos?"

I'm thinking both have their points and both define forgiveness - if forgiveness can actually be encompassed by a definition.

I was particularly struck by the author's struggle with other people's definition of forgiveness. I cannot even begin to say how much I struggle with this myself. The South is not a geographical area that espouses forgiveness. It espouses piety, selflessness, sacrifice and self-soul-beating for "evils" thought, committed or yet to happen. If John Calvin were alive today, he would be ecstatic with the churches of the South. Their congregations pulse in time with Calvinism. You are worthless. You are nothing. You are horribly, definitively, eternally wrong and will continually do wrong. Your only aspiration can be to TRY to rise above your sins. You MUST forever be praying for forgiveness - but you'll never actually receive it because you're in a cycle. And don't think, even for one nanosecond, that God loves you as you ARE. You are the disgrace he so nobly chose to redeem.

Ugh! What rot!

My definition of forgiveness is based on acceptance. Accepting that we are not perfect, but profoundly desired after by our Creator. He created each of us as unique, individual spirits to reflect His prism being. We are part of a portrait so large, no canvas could capture it. He revels in our differences, for they reflect His. Why is acceptance so hard to accept? How does this fundamental fact go so wrong for so many? It's baffling to me.

Don't get me wrong. I quite frequently fight with all the different sides of me. I'm a different person day to day sometimes. But why deny all that God embodied you with? Your soul - strange as it may be to other people - is God's "precious."

I am at odds with most churches in my area. I'm too accepting. I love people for who they are, not who they pretend to be or wish they could be. I easily "forgive" people their faults and most of the time don't even think they're faults. More like, lapses in essence of being. People have imitation vanilla moments, but usually return to their pure vanilla selves - eventually.

I'm a freakin' Times Square billboard in a cow pasture! Everyone around me follows the crowd and behaves all meek and mild, and I stand out brilliantly different.

I quite enjoy that - most of the time.

I just wish I had more billboards to hang out with. At least they wouldn't leave a trail of "patties" in their wake.

Dictionary Petition

2007-11-15T09:32:00.000-08:00

How do you define yourself? On your own? Through your job? Through your spouse/family? Through your friends? Through your neighborhood? Through your church?

I am questioning the definition of me these days. I could, at one time, clearly articulate who I was. I was a loving, giving, empathetic, British-literature-loving, Scotland-obsessed, Christian woman with a strong will, direct purpose and a creative soul. I had passions and followed them. I had nothing to stand in my way of where I wanted to go, and yet, I often didn't go. I was always the sweet one; always the first one there with a kleenex box and an open shoulder. I was also the bold one - taking on grad school with a creative writing degree. What sane person chooses that?

I did. And I gloried in it. I relished the fact that I was certain in what I wanted and where I was going.

THAT person has . . . slipped away. In her place is iRobot. I go through my Chrysler Plant day, performing the motions and accomplishing one task at a time. No real variety. No strong desires pushing me forward. Just a sense of "Must Do This."

Must be perfect at work. This is huge and overwhelming and slowly poisoning everything creative in me. Work is the same monotonous routines with extremely detailed rules that must be followed to the letter or someone could end up in prison. At least 40 hours of my week is cast into the void and every day numbs at least .5% of the creative side of my brain. It holds me in its Raven claws: Creativity - "Nevermore". And as if that isn't bad enough, I am incessantly, painfully aware of the fact that my job is what is keeping not just me, but my husband, afloat. He gets to have the fun, creative job, and mine is the one that really pays the bills.

Must be perfect at home. I take care of all the bills, all the cooking, all the cleaning, all the grocery shopping and I keep track of every event that goes on or will go on. I'm a drone at work and then a drone at home.

Must be the perfect wife. Must have the perfect body with the latest fashion and flawless hair and make up. Must smell nice at all times. Must stand properly and sleep properly and heaven forbid I should change anything about myself without consulting either a professional makeover artist, or my husband. Sweatshirts can only be worn to football games and Addidas pants can only be worn when ill or working out. Even pjs must be "in style."

Must be Southernized. Must have correct manners and opinions and be completely narrowminded when it comes to Christianity. If someone tells you non-stop you're going to Hell for doing pretty much anything outside of breathing and prayer, that pretty much takes the joy out of belief. Must read only the Bible, Max Lucato and definitely Billy Graham. Must NOT like Harry Potter. I could burn at the stake as a heretic for this.

Must. Must. Must.

My natural instinct at this point is to chuck it all. Just leave it all behind, go somewhere new, and re-define myself. That would be the easy way. It's changing IN the environment in which I've somehow become entrenched that is climbing Everest.

After all of the above, I will say this. I have retained one aspect of my former life: hope. I cling, rather tenaciously these days, to the 1/4 inch twig on the side of Everest. I HAVE to believe that I can find "myself" again. That no one's opinions of me matter, except for those of my Heavenly Father. Those matter a lot.

So, how are you defined? And are you happy with Webster?

I'm petitioning the OED (Oxford English Dictionary) board for a new, 2008 definition of Heather McMullin. They have more authority than Webster.

What a Girl Wants . . . and what she can Afford

2007-09-05T13:49:00.000-07:00

It's been awhile my friends. I am sorry for that. August was the single busiest time in my entire life (and I count that over my final semester in Graduate school). If I wasn't working at work, I was house hunting. If I wasn't househunting, I was taking care of errands that needed to be done at home. If I wasn't doing errands, I was somehow sleeping. All communication with friends and family pretty much came to a hault. I hated that feeling most. I feel guilty being the "estranged" one.

Anyway, now that a new girl has FINALLY replaced my old position at work, my life should start to get easier. That and stopping the house hunt.

Yes, it was a hard decision to make, but my husband and I decided that we were financially unprepared to buy a house. We kept having arguments over money and mortgages and down payments (lack thereof) and we weren't sleeping or eating or even enjoying breathing. It was not a pleasant month.

So, after a lot of thought and disappointed hopes on both sides, we have decided to wait until next year to buy a house. In the meantime, we are going to live as if we have a mortgage and put the extra money into savings so that when we are ready to buy, we will have a downpayment. It will mean changing our lifestyle and not doing as much stuff, but in the end it will be worth it. Nothing like a cold, hard slap in the face by the reality of finances to make you evaluate your life. Makes me realize that no matter how much I say I'm not materialistic, I am not that different than most of the American public - to my shame.

Now I'm having to evaluate what I truly want and how I can afford it. I want to go to a beach. I want to go camping. I want to go to my friend Amber's baby shower. I want to go home for either Thanksgiving or Christmas. I want to spend more quality time with friends I have here (or at least developing some friends here). I want to enjoy life more simply and not feel pressured by outrageous demands on my time and on my emotions. I want to feel content and happy again.

Some of this cannot be bought. What is associated with money, I have to weigh. I am sorry to say that if I am to spend any holiday time with my family, it will come at the expense of my friend's baby shower. I am truly sad to miss that. I want to be everywhere for everything, but at some point, I have to say no. It's especially hard because I'm a people pleaser and it bothers me to no end when I have to disappoint someone or many people. I can only hope to be understood and forgiven. And someday, when expenses are not quite so tight, I will make it up to them.

If I go on much longer, I'll border on the macabre, so I'll stop. But my brain is still going. Thanks for letting me get some of the weight off that particular organ.

Epitome of Irony

2007-07-25T07:37:00.000-07:00

"Timing is everything" people say.

This week - that was true. And it was all completely ironic.

Last Friday, I was informed that my co-worker Alison is leaving for another job. No one had a clue she was looking, and it was especially funny to me since I had just had a job interview myself on Thursday evening.

Monday morning, after 3 years of slavelike servitude, I was promoted to Alison's position (Administrative Assistant to the Vice President). I couldn't say no - it would look suspicious - and I had heard nothing from my interview (which was incredibly weird, by the way).

Moving on. Tuesday morning, I get a call from the school I interviewed with and I'm offered a position there. Didn't really know what I'd be teaching, but a teaching job nevertheless. I asked to have some time to think about it and I asked for phone numbers of some of the teachers in the English department so I could speak with them about teaching at Wade Hampton (again, my interview was very weird and I needed more info).

So, I spoke to the teachers (all lovely people, by the way) and they told me I'd be teaching 10th grade. 10th grade. Did I say 10th grade? Yeah. 10th grade. It's a MAJOR testing year for students in high school. I've pretty much always been opposed to the current testing system. I got online and checked out some practice tests for these 10th graders in SC. Yep. Definitely don't like the testing system.

So, after several hours of thought and sitting on the fence (both jobs were now offering the same pay), I decided that all my work over the past few months to teach high school was a bit of a waste because I really, REALLY, would rather teach college. That's just where my heart is. I thought my heart was just in teaching, but it really is teaching a certain age. Plus, I like having more freedom. I'm not too keen on America's current education system. I can't really condone entering it. I'd fight it every stinking day, and I wouldn't last long. What can I say? I've become a non-conformist.

So, this morning, I officially said no to the teaching position. I will stay in "the job from hell" for awhile longer. At least until I can get back into a college teaching position (which can't possibly happen before January at this point) or something better comes along. I have learned the hard way to wait for exactly the right thing. It will eventually happen. I just need patience.

If only I had more of it most of the time.

Yippee!

2007-07-18T06:02:00.000-07:00

I've got a teaching job interview tomorrow! The reign of terror (aka - my current job) may finally be at an end!

Ramblings from an Irate American English Major in Defense of British Literature

2007-07-13T12:34:00.000-07:00

*Disclaimer: Those who have not read the Harry Potter books should stop reading right here. Only if you have read the books will you appreciate the sentiments laid herein.

I saw Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix on Wednesday night. To keep us all sane, I will keep my comments to a minimum, but they must be shared.

Visually: stunning! The action sequences and the major fight in the Ministry of Magic looked EXACTLY as I pictured it in my head. I couldn't have been happier with that.

Acting: Good by Daniel Radcliffe (Harry). Book 5 was really all about Harry, and the movie did really reflect this. Dan did a good job playing an angry teenager with too much on his emotional palatte.

Plot: HACKED TO PIECES! SHREDDED! VISUALLY PLUNDERED AND RAPED!

Ending: I can only say this: my soul howled in protest. Damn Americans and their trite, happy endings!

J.K. Rowling should be sued for mismanagment of her own material! What could she possibly need more money for?

And that, my friends, is all I will say, here, about that.

In Between

2007-07-11T08:09:00.000-07:00

Ever feel like you're on this plain of existence that totally doesn't match that of everyone else you know? Like you're living in The Matrix? I do.

I'm in this weird inbetween stage of life where I'm not happy where I am and all attempts to move forward or away from my current position doesn't seem to be getting me anywhere. Like I'm on some sort of hamster wheel - spinning but not really going anywhere.

I'm still waiting on my PRAXIS scores, but I have put out a few "feeler" e-mails regarding teaching jobs. So far, 2 out of the 5 e-mails have recieved a response: position already filled. I'm beginning to think getting a teaching job this fall won't happen. I feel a bit bummed at this prospect because twice now I've really tried to re-enter teaching (once through a PhD program and now through the PACE (emergency certification) program) and neither attempt appears to really be getting me the hell out of my current job. What's the use of having a Master's degree and filling out all this paperwork and studying like a crazy person and taking these monsterously expensive tests if it doesn't help me progress in life?

I know. I'm whining. But damn it, I've worked hard to change my place in this universe and the universe keeps saying, "Ha, Ha! You can't catch me!" Well poo on you universe!

I apologize to those of you who read this and have much greater (and no doubt, more worthy) isses to complain about. I know I'm lucky to be healthy and have food and a roof over my head, but then, I wouldn't be American if I didn't whine about my life, right?

AAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

Official Results Pending

2007-06-13T13:04:00.000-07:00

Well, I managed to take the Praxis. For those of you who don't know what that is, it's the teacher's certification test that all teachers must take to be certified (ie. get a job). For every person, it's a little bit of a different monster, and let me tell you, mine was completely draining. I had no idea so much thought and some handwriting could tire a person out.

For a secondary English teacher, I had to take a total of 3 tests - each one two hours long and each one scraping my brain raw of all it's collective knowledge. 2 of my tests were subject-based, meaning they were about English only. One was all multiple choice (SO easy!) and the other was all essay (easy mentally, but taxing on a person's hand when one is used to typing). I have no doubt I passed both of these with flying colors.

The third test tested me on teaching pedagogy. Every teacher has to take a test like this one - it varies only on grade level of teaching certification.

ARGH!

I have no clue how I did on this one. It was 24 multiple-choice questions and 12 short-answer. Believe it or not, the short-answer were easier for me (well, I AM an English major!), and the multiple choice questions were all guesses on my part. I will have to wait an agonizing 4 weeks to get my official results.

In the meantime, I will start looking for jobs. Teachers are often "conditionally" hired and will only officially be hired once the scores are in.

I'll keep you posted as soon as I am!

Changes

2007-06-08T08:24:00.000-07:00

Yes, ladies and . . . well, ladies (I don't think any men read this), change is the essence of the day . . . and the month . . . and the year! I apologize for not keeping up with my blog in the past months, but I've been doing a LOT of changing and it takes a lot of time and energy.

Last year was both an ecstatic and a depressing year. I got married (Yeah!) which was great, but I went through something similar to post-partum depression right after my honeymoon that kept me in the doldrums and tears for months. All I could do after I came down from wedding-blind bliss was find gaping holes in my life: my career (or, in my case, lack thereof), my finances (again, lack thereof), my friend-life (lack thereof), my attitude towards life and myself (BAD! BAD! BAD!). I even went so far into Negativity (the antithesis of Neverland) that I started to drag my once uplifting and glorious marriage down with my rapidly-sinking mental ship of, perhaps not Titanic, but defintely Britannic proportions. EVERYTHING was wrong and I felt somewhat powerless to do anything about it. I just wanted things to be better, but I didn't know how to do that. I wanted others to make it right for me, and I think I started blocking people out since they weren't doing what I subconciously wanted them to do.

Then, at the beginning of this year, something happened. I got sick of myself. I looked at myself in the mirror and said, "AGH! What the F--k?! YOU are better than this!" I realized that buried deep under layers of self-doubt and recrimination was a confident, go-getter woman who had a great deal to offer. I used to be really in touch with this Heather. I somehow, over time, lost touch with her. I'm now working on rebuilding this relationship. I'm finding that she is a pretty awesome person.

So, I'm changing a whole lot of things - including giving my blog a much-needed face-lift. It now looks better and has a better title. I like it, anyway, and really, who else's opinion really matters when it comes to blogging?

The first major change: my career. I realized that the loss of my old self really started when I left teaching. I know I used to whine about grading papers, but it's something I find myself very passionate about. I like watching students grasp new things they didn't know before. I like being the one to guide them to heights even they didn't think they could get to. I HATE how our current education system operates. I could talk about this subject for hours, and that is a clear-cut sign that I'm passionate about it.

I have been unsuccessful in re-entering the college-level teaching world. I really need a PhD for that in this area of the country (Love ya anyway, Greenville!), and I was not accepted into any programs this year. Maybe it's not meant to be. Maybe it's not meant to be right now. Either way, I can't remain stagnant in wait, so I'm pushing forward in another way: high school.

Tomorrow morning I am taking all 3 required PRAXIS tests for emergency teacher certification in the state of South Carolina. I've been studying almost non-stop for 3 weeks. I'm semi-confident I will do well. I'm not entirely sure about my grasp of teaching lingo (I never had to learn it to teach in college. Go figure.), but I do have a Master's in Creative Writing. I am the ultimate in believeable BS!

So, hopefully, by the end of the summer, I will be free of my completely awful job that I've held for 3 years and back into doing something both worthwhile and personally gratifying. Keep your fingers crossed.

The other changes: slowly but surely. Once I get my career situation readjusted, I will begin working on the friend dilemna, because I defintely could use a few more!

Whoo! What a load, I know. But stay tuned. There will be more exciting news to come, I'm sure.

Mourning

2007-03-01T06:21:00.000-08:00

My 14th birthday sucked. Not a single one of my friends remembered and were all busy. My mom had made no plans. I had just managed to escape the twisted plastic and steel confines of my scoliosis prison and I wanted to have some fun. I was so disappointed. I cried my eyes out.

My mom felt so guilty, she decided the best way to cheer me up was to let me have something I had wanted forever: a pet. I'd never really had one (my guinea pig that lasted all of 5 months didn't count) and she thought a little bundle of fur would lift my spirits. She was right.

We went to the pound. I looked and looked at several different kittens. Lightening (as my cat was to be called) chose me. He stuck his little paw out of his cage and tapped on my shoulder repeatedly to get my attention. I looked at his gray & black tiger-striped face. He was the one.

I took him home and he ran all over the house exploring, but in the evening, all he wanted to do was curl up on my blanket-covered lap. He was soft and cuddly and exactly what I had always wanted. I was always, from that moment on, the only one who could ever hold him without him squirming to get away. I was his favorite.

In four years it was time for me to go away to college. The cat couldn't come with me so he stayed behind with my parents. He has been there ever since - never once coming with me on one of my moves. My parents have alternately adored and hated him. As he grew older, he grew more cantankerous. He knocked things over, he pissed on the carpet and furniture, he threw up anywhere he chose whenever he chose. I heard it all. My parents would always say, "You know what your cat did?" I always thought that was funny considering he hadn't lived with me in years and I had sort of stopped thinking of him as mine.

Yesterday, 14 and a half years after I got him, I got the phone call from my mom that they were going to have to put him down. I knew it would be coming soon, but I didn't think I'd find out only minutes before the procedure would actually happen. I had no time to process it before I knew it was happening.

When I went home for my birthday this past year, Ligtening looked bad. He was all skin and bones. My mom said he weighed in at 4.5 pounds when he went in to the vet this last time. He was old and really looked it. I had told mom then that if his upkeep would be too difficult or too expensive that they should put him down. I was perfectly logical when I made that suggestion.

Logic had no part in my reaction yesterday. I cried for what I was losing without being able to say goodbye. I cried for the joy that little furball had brought to my life - however long it had been. I cried for what I will never see again whenever I go home to see my parents. I cried for the first pet I ever really lost.

I know that it's just a part of life and he was just a cat. But to me, he was a friend when I needed one. A comfort I didn't know I needed until I claimed him as mine. Now, he is gone. And I am sad.

Holiday Fun

2006-12-04T06:54:00.000-08:00

Well, first, I need to apologize to those of you who continually check my blog only to be disappointed. I'm a lame excuse for a wannabe writer. I don't post much, but I do read everyone's so keep writing!=)

Second - still no wedding photos. I should have mentioned long before this that my pictures won't be ready to view until after Christmas. I won't even get to see them until the 15th or 16th of December. It takes THAT long to retouch photos, I guess. So, still not pictures for you. Soon. I promise.

Third, I don't know about the rest of you, but my holiday season is starting out with a bang. My office christmas party was Friday night. More fun than usual this year. It's usually just those of us in the office sitting at a dinner table staring at each other and trying to come up with some good conversation - or any for that matter. This year, my boss held the party at his house and we invited a bunch of our clients and close friends. There were probably 60 people in attendance. MUCH more fun since we all couldn't just stand around staring at each other. Plus, my bosses are wine connoisseurs, so the wine was good and plentiful. Drank an appropriate amount for an office party and left about 9:30. Brad and I stopped by Blockbuster on the way home and rented Breakfast at Tiffany's (the Audrey Hepburn version). I'd never seen it before, so I stayed up to watch it all. Went to bed about 1 am.

Saturday night, I hosted a little Christmas martini party for me and some of my girl friends. We kicked the guys out (at least until about midnight and then we let them in) and had a blast eating, drinking, and talking. It was great fun. And, for the record, I had 5 - Yes, 5 - pure-alcohol martini's Saturday night. That IS a record for me. I usually fall asleep after 1. I had a blast! Stayed up until 2 am.

Sunday. 9:00 am. Brave (or stupid, depending on how you look at it) husband of mine wakes me up to go to North Carolina to get a Christmas tree. Headache - Oh, yes. Crawled out of bed to shower. Wear sunglasses most of the day (even though it's cloudy). Walk all over tree farm and finally cut and haul tree to car. Finally eat about 3:00 pm. Drive home. Bring in tree and decorate. Fun, but too tired to get too excited about it. Sit down at 9:00 to watch movie. Practically pass out at 11:30pm.

Today, I'm feeling remarkably awake and good for such a busy weekend. Just wish I didn't have to return to work. Ugh.

Wedding News?

2006-09-28T10:09:00.000-07:00

I know, my few faithful blog readers, that you would probably like to hear news on the grand wedding (especially if you couldn't come). I promise, the joy will be shared . . . but only after I have some pictures to go with the telling! So, as soon as I have some pictures, you will be regaled with the tale of my fairybook wedding. =)

You'll Just Have to Excuse Me

2006-09-07T07:03:00.000-07:00

So, obviously, I'm an absolutely wretched blogger. I haven't posted since June. The summer just seems to have flown by. In fact, I live in an apartment directly across from the complex pool, and never once got in it! Alas, that must be forgiven as well as I've had much more important things going on.

In a little over a week I will be changing my last name from Von Kamp to McMullin. Yes, that's right, the wedding I've been seemingly planning for ages is finally near at hand. I have almost everything arranged (last minute scrambling aside!) and I'm now just really looking forward to seeing people, having fun, and wearing an absolutely fabulous dress (if I do say so myself =).

I'm also really looking forward to the honeymoon. Now I understand why the honeymoon practice was adopted: you need a rest after all the planning! All I want is some time where I don't have to think about what I NEED to do and just decide, very whimsically, I might add, what I WANT to do. My upcoming cruise to the Eastern Caribbean will give me a great opportunity to do that, I'm sure. =)

It's been a fun time in my life, but in all truth, I'm glad it will soon be over. Many women want to be the bride, but you don't really understand how much work that entails until you become one. Now I'm looking forward to having the commitment made and then moving on to other plans I've had to put on the back burner (Scotland, anyone?) due to lack of time. I'm ready to begin a new chapter in life and really pursue some worthy goals of my own (with my new husband's support, of course).

For those of you who read this before the wedding, I look forward to seeing you there. If I don't see you then, I promise to write a blog about the cruise once I've gained more of a late tan.

Kilt Sporters vs. The Abercrombie & Fitch Boys

2006-06-21T13:21:00.000-07:00

I am suffering from a fever. A Scottish fever. It burns, unrequited, deep in my soul. Fire licks my veins in exsquiste torment. I damn near lust after the harsh hills and alluring accents of the Highlands.

Thus, I have been reading just about anything I can get my hands on that have to do with kilt-sport'n lads and sharp-tonged lasses. This both soothes and fuels my fever. I am faced with strong, braw, honorable, righteous, die-to-protect you men with rolling brr's and bone-melting, Fabio hair. Granted, they are all fictitious and ALL are set within the 1700s or earlier, but the point is, they're fabulous.

Here's a nonfiction: I've been to Scotland within the last 10 years. The men may not wear kilts very often, or have Fabio hair, but they are all still strong, braw, honorable, righteous, and still have the instinct to kill or die for their woman/family. It's imbedded in their senses of masculinity. Must be the Pict blood. Or the Viking. Whatever.

Most of them also still have the rolling brr's that make your eyes flutter.

Uh-hghm. Anyway. . .

Why, oh why, is our substitute often an Abercrombie & Fitch Boy? You know the type. Obsessed more with clothes than most women, hair-conscious, perfectly-groomed men whose role models for masculinity are sports players, actors and other highly visible-but-not-necessarily-"masculine" men. They also love themselves more than anyone else.

Where are the men who COULD crush you with a rock or ravish you in some bushes, but don't because they KNOW what honor and tenderness is? I'd take a man who hadn't shaven in days and whose hair was mussed, and whom I could also count on without a doubt to handle the most terrible difficulties in life without flinching or losing his sense of romance any day over the Abercrombie & Fitch Boy.

Don't get me wrong. I deeply love my very American fiance (his tendency to lean towards an Abercrombie Boy notwithstanding). It's just that sometimes, I wish he'd had different models. Or he'd been born in Scotland and would proudly wear a kilt and knock the teeth out of anyone who called it a skirt.

Written Inflections

2006-06-01T11:51:00.000-07:00

I have several dear friends who I see only about once a year - if that. My favorite memories of my college life are with these dear 5 people. (You know who you are). I try my best to contact each of them, but it's never on a regular basis. Getting an e-mail from one is always such a great surprise.

The other day, I got one I'm still trying to figure out.

One of my friends wrote these lines in her e-mail: "You look beautiful!" "Girl, what happened to you?" "I've asked the others what happened, and they didn't know." "I've seen you twice in about 3 years and, like, you totally changed." "I want to know what happened." "I care about you."

WHAT!?

Now, the first comment is a no brainer (and she was referring to some pictures of mine). Thanks for the compliment. But the rest . . . well, let's just say I can't decide if I should be flattered or offended. The question, "What happened to you?" minus vocal inflections, can be taken so many different ways. I can't decide if it's the total-nerd-turned-total-babe at the high school reunion "What happened to you?" or the you-look-like-you've-just-been-hit-by-a-train "What happened to you?" And it's really the last bit, "I care about you" that really throws it off. Is the writer worried about me? What is that supposed to mean anyway?

Today, I'm just wishing more people knew how to write inflectively because it would certainly lessen my confusion.

Only some of you will get this

2006-05-19T06:58:00.000-07:00

You know what the weirdest sound in the world is? A contact pushing out an air bubble. It makes this kind of sticky, popping noise. It's really weird.

Pride, Prejudice & Great Expectations?

2006-05-12T06:56:00.000-07:00

Who has seen the latest Pride & Prejudice movie with Keira Knightly in it? I watched it 3 times and I'll tell you why. The first time, I was not really thrilled with it. I have the A&E version made in 1996 that is 6 hours long and covers the novel much more thoroughly. I was disappointed at how much was neglected in the recent version.

But, there was something in it I liked that I couldn't put my finger on, so I watched it again. After the second time, I realized that what I liked was the chemistry between Elizabeth and Darcy. It was much more electric than that of the miniseries. In fact, although Mr. Darcy was not as classically good-looking as the one in the miniseries, I found his manner more charismatic and charming. In fact, at the scene where he walks across the field in the early morning, I think I actually stopped breathing for about a minute. Every romantic fiber in my being was entranced.

The third time I watched it just for fun. Many girlish sighs ensued.

I have a quandry about my reaction. I sighed, not just because it was romantic and my reaction is probably like most other red-blooded females, but because I find myself missing that electricity - that element of utter romance - that knowledge that someone is so emotionally distraught over me.

My fiance is a "man's man." Emotions are signs of weakness and only logic is welcome. Crying is a definite no and "feelings" are too wishy-washy to be trusted, so why have them? I doubt he's every been emotionally distraught because he doesn't allow himself to "emote." I'm saddened by this. Not just for me, but for him. Living without emotion is a shame in my mind.

Am I living in a dream world? Have I watched too many romantic movies and read too many romance novels for my own good? Have I illogiacally based my ideas of love on fairytales? Are my expectations of romance too great? Am I building my love life's foundation on a shifting pile of river rocks rather than a solid, reality-based cement block?

Fairytales are for children. Children grow up and grow out of them. Why then do I keep believing they could come true?

Is my life to be Dickens' Great Expectations, or Austen's Pride & Prejudice?

The Pollenators

2006-03-16T06:53:00.000-08:00

What is more frightening than flying monkeys? What is more life-threatening that a sinking Titanic? What is more intimidating than Arnold Schwartzeneggar saying, "Hasta la vista, baby."?

The Pollenators.

They move silently, steadily, dangerously in a large yellow-tinted mass that cannot be avoided. They invade your nose, youth mouth, your lungs and they cannot be expelled no matter how many times you sneeze or cough or blow your nose. They induce mucus formation in every breath cavity. They are the enemy of spring.

My line of defense has been compromised. But I will not give up. I will never surrender. I will triumph!

Pollenators beware.

Unconditional Love

2006-03-07T11:05:00.000-08:00

Unconditional, perfect love, the love that encompasses all that God is, has always been a difficult concept for me to grasp. As a human, and a female with a VERY good memory, unconditional love is something I feel neither able to give nor receive. I get too caught up in anger, hurt, betrayal, loss and regret. I like to think I'm a forgiving person, but the forgetting part is damn near impossible for me. I know my emotional limits are finite, and I have trouble loving those who flatten my dreams and spirit.

I also feel unworthy of unconditional love. If I can't give it, why should I receive? When I KNOW I'm disobedient, I pull back from those I love because I can't bear the judgement I also know I SHOULD receive. I struggle with this issue in my faith the most.

This weekend, for the first time ever in my life (I know. It's amazing it's taken me this long), I really FELT unconditional love. Where from? My parents.

I've always tried to live a life that would be pleasing to them. I sometimes did this to the point of ignoring my own aspirations and wants. Not to sound conceited, but I was the "perfect" child in my parents' eyes, and I didn't want that opinion to change. Unfortunately, I'm not a child anymore, and I'm certainly not perfect, and I'm really tired of doing everything to please everyone but myself.

Thus, I've started just trying to be myself with my family. It's not easy. We all walk on eggshells with each other - not wanting to upset our carefully maintained balance. I'm throwing that balance off by some decisions that I have had to recently make that I truly feel are best for me now and in the future. I was terrified to tell my parents my decision. Then, to my utter surprise and complete relief, they were fine with it. No judgement. No deadly silence over the phone that means tears will follow later. No condemnation. Just . . . okay. Their reaction both freaked me out and allowed me the biggest sigh of relief I've had in a long time.

This experience has made me realize that no matter what, my parents love me. And if they, in their also finite ability to love, can love me "unconditionally," how much more can God, whose heart is beyond measure, love me? It was a startling and mind-blowing revelation to me. One I'm truly thankful for today. And let me tell you, if you struggle with the same, be honest. With your family, your friends, your lover, or your Lord. There is no greater peace than coming as you ARE and being loved - flaws and all.

Value of a Smile

2006-02-16T12:47:00.001-08:00

I went to a funeral today. Someone I barely knew, and who I was trying to get to know better, was crushed in a very freak car accident on Saturday. She was the off and on girlfriend of a VERY good friend of both Brad and me. Her name was Angela.

Today, at the service, I cried. I cried for the person who was. I cried for the people left behind. I cried because a beautiful life was cut short.

What was most often said about her, though, was how FULL of life she had been. She LIVED life instead of letting life live her. She was outgoing, upbeat, spirited, feisty, determined, and stubborn (in a good way). She did what she wanted, in spite of the many problems she encountered along the way. And she smiled. A lot.

She was happy.

I've thought a lot about her smile today. How valuable it was to those who loved her. How strong an impression it left on everyone who knew her. How it defined her.

There is value in smiling. There is value in living a life that makes you smile. There is value in making others smile.

Do what makes you smile. Life is too short and too precious to do otherwise.

Apology First

2006-02-10T09:53:00.000-08:00

Apology: To those who take the time to read my blog, I'm sorry for yet again writing something depressing rather than inspiring or interesting. Please understand that sometimes, this space is my only way of venting.

Tired. No, exhausted. Do this. Copy that. Fix this. Here's another slide to add. Change these colors. Slave to the Master Boss. Power Point is my shackles.

Go here. Do this. Meet at this time. Cancel and reschedule my own time stuff. Food? Who needs to eat when there is shit to do? Shakes from hunger. Too much coffee to stay awake. No sleep. Nightmares anyway.

Take care of friends. Family. Soon to be family who has much stress too. So many details that all need work NOW! Still feel as if I'm not doing enough where needed.

Iced pond in spring is my descriptor.

Where is the peace? Where is the rest? WHERE ARE THE OFFERS OF HELP FOR ME?

Hazy Shade of Me

2006-01-26T12:30:00.002-08:00

A memory. Brought to the surface by an image. The once joy and anticipation that sight held is felt again. The feelings then were grand and glorious and frightening.

I miss them.

For one moment, every tingle once felt in my fresh nerves - the source of every line now around my mouth created that day - is there again. It was the beginning.

Time passed. The sight grew more dear and then . . . faded. Feelings faded, too. Youthful vigor gave way to anxiety, worry, defense and the cares of life. Broodish behavior replaces progressive thinking. Sunlit yellow exchanged for the realities of black & white.

Today, I saw again. I remembered. And suddenly yellow is back in my wardrobe.

*A tribute to "The Barn"

Vortex

2006-01-23T07:13:00.000-08:00

One thing goes right, another goes wrong. I struggle and strive to make things better for myself and everyone I know, but I just keep failing somewhere. I am on an very imbalanced scale and it keeps dipping against my favor. My efforts keep getting sucked into a vortex and I take two steps backwards for every step forward.

I had a great weekend, only to be found wanting come this morning. I'm back in the vortex.

I'm sorry to those I've disappointed.

Most of all, I'm sorry I'm disappointing to myself.

Psychology 101

2006-01-19T12:37:00.000-08:00

The human brain and how it functions is fascinating. It's amazing how a person can think so many things either simultaneously or in a rapid series.

Tuesday morning I got my acceptance letter for the PhD program at the University of Aberdeen in Scotland. Same day, Brad left for Connecticut to attend his grandfather's funeral. Same day, I finalized a place for Brad and my wedding ceremony and reception. Same day, my mom shocked the life out of me by being excited at the prospect of me moving to a foreign country across the ocean for three years. Same day - had my first truly intense desire to sit down and work on my novel in, like, forever. Same day, Brad actually proved he had heard something I told him and put my wants ahead of his by sneaking roses (a flower he particularily dislikes but I do) into my apartment in congratulations of my good news.

I had so much on my mind personally that day, work was a total flop! I was a little like Mr. Bean: well-intentioned, but not altogether with it.

Last night I spent almost 3 hours at Barnes & Noble looking for both information on scholarship money that's available out there and information just on Scotland and the way of life there. I couldn't stop thinking and when I finally brought my head up from the books I was looking at, I swear I must have gone cross-eyed. I wasn't really overloaded, just so concentrated. I haven't gone after anything with this kind of dedication in awhile.

Here's where I need psychology 101: why is it that when a heretofore apathetic person suddenly becomes motivated, their brain goes overboard and won't shut off? Is it just excited to be used again like a car battery revs into life after a jump, or is it more like a damn that has previously been closed finally being allowed to open? What makes the brain stop or stall in the first place?

Fascinating.

What's Love Got To Do With It?

2006-01-16T06:34:00.000-08:00

As a teenager, if I saw my parents holding hands or sitting on the couch all cuddled up, I was completely grossed out. Now, I see my parents cuddling or looking at each other in complete adoration, and I have envy. I am amazed at how they still love each other so much after so long.

I'm finding that love, or loving in a relationship, is a lot of work. The ooey-gooey, "You're so wonderful stage" is way past for me. Yes, I love my fiance, but sometimes actually being with him is terribly difficult. He can grate on my nerves like no one else. I find that line between love and hate can be be VERY thin at times. Then again, if I cared only half as much about him, I'd only be irritated half as much. Why is it we can forgive and forget a lot easier with a friend than a lover? I just don't get it rationally, but it's true to me emotionally.

Do all relationships go through this phase of, "I love you/I hate you?"

I really miss the ooey-gooey stage. So many things have contributed to its departure. How do I get it back? Any suggestions?

Not Just Another New Year's Resolution

2006-01-02T07:52:00.000-08:00

Every year the same typical New Year's resolutions come up: lose weight, eat better, exercise more, work less, etc. Most of the time, these resolutions start well, but quickly deteriorate into nothing. Know why? Because they are boring and not specific enough.

In order to really be motivated to change, one must set very specific goals. For example, instead of just saying, "I'm going to lose weight," set a specific amount, like 5 pounds. It's a small goal that can be easily accomplished so that one feels successful and will, thus, be more likely to continue.

But this is not really my point. My point is that I'm tired of making the same old resolutions. So, this year, I have not just one, but several, and they are all very specific.

1) To fall in love with my body - no matter how "curvy" it becomes

2) To eat at least 1 serving of vegetables a day

3) To keep up with Brad mountain biking and beat him at tennis

4) To not always think the worst, but the best

5) To not let stress get the better of my temper

6) To find more girl friends to hang out with

7) To attend church regulary

8) To finish at least 5 chapters of my latest beginning of a novel

9) To have meaningful contact with my current scattered friends at least once a week

10) To be the decisive, strong, independent woman I was 3 years ago

Happy New Year's!

Christmas Thoughts

2005-12-22T12:43:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow I fly back to the land of my birth. The home of my youth. The land of snow and chilly weather.

I have many thoughts as I get ready to go home. I'm excited because I haven't been home in 2 years. I'm happy to be spending some time with my "family" (some are not blood-related). I'm glad I'll get some good r&r time. I'm nervous because I haven't seen some people in 2 years or more. I'm scared to death I'm going to wind up defending my family (their crazyness & traditions) the whole time to a fiance who has only once been to my home prior to this. I'm scared even more that I'll be smothered by my parents because it's been so long since I've been home.

I just want to enjoy Christmas.

Why do we have to grow up? Why can't all Christmases be like when we were children?

Well, in an effort to return to that mentality, I say . . .

BRING ON THE PRESENTS, SANTA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Merry Christmas, Everyone!

Dim-witted and Slightly Daft

2005-12-08T13:49:00.000-08:00

Ever feel like you're losing your edge? The one-liners come slower, the wit becomes witless and poignancy is all but lost?

I never had much of an edge to begin with, but what little I had seems to be receeding. I read all these blogs and responses and feel like the "mentally challenged" cousin everyone in the family politely listens to.

I guess that's what comes with a job that requires all speech and writing to be completely innuendo-free and being around friends who talk mostly about serious things.

Blagh! Blagh! Blagh!

And that's all I have to say about that.

Rambles of A Young Crazy Woman

2005-12-05T12:04:00.001-08:00

My thoughts today come in poetic form. Please excuse me if it totally sucks!

Too many thoughts -
swirling, flying, jumbled

Too many questions -
swirling, jumbled, rushing

Too many options -
opened, closed, maybes

What is "right"?
What is "wrong"?

Who decides?
Fight or flight?

Selfish Bitch

2005-11-28T09:58:00.000-08:00

It's been brought to my attention (and rightly so) that I'm a selfish bitch at times. I'm constantly thinking about what I don't have (not so much material-wise as much as attention-wise) and not being grateful enough for what I do have.

I have great friends. I have a loving family. I have a new fiance. I have a job with great benefits. I have good health. I have a warm place to live and food in my cupboards. I'm not having to hock my first child to pay off debts. I have a lot.

If I could just remember that . . .

Odd Timing

2005-11-22T16:53:00.000-08:00

A life of contradictions is mine. About a year ago, I was struggling with my health and facing some difficult decisions. Everyone else I knew was happy and content. No one to listen and empathize with my struggles.

Today, everyone around me seems to be struggling. I am happier than I have been in a long time. I have good struggles to face. No one to listen and share my joy with.

I'm missing people who are in the same place (emotionally) as me today.

I just want someone to laugh with.

By The Way . . .

2005-11-16T08:55:00.000-08:00

In case any of you were wondering, Brad and I have set a definite date: September 16, 2006. I like the sound of that, don't you?

A Woman's Domain

2005-11-14T10:26:00.000-08:00

There's a reason God made men the way they are: to remind women to keep their "domains" theirs.

Typically, men don't get that much into wedding planning. They take care of honeymoon information and a bachelor party, and that's about it. The wedding ceremony and reception is typically a the bride's responsibility and we relish it.

I wish my fiance were like that.

Instead, I was annoyed, pestered, and bothered by a male wedding planner sidekick all weekend.

It's my day, dang it, and I SHALL be the Queen!

Queens don't have sidekicks. Henceforth, all other plans that are connected to MY wedding shall be solely decided by me and me alone.

Democracy - farewell. Welcome your new Monarch.

Local Color

2005-11-01T15:52:00.000-08:00

Just about everyone I know from, well, any state above Virginia, are in awe and praise of fall foliage. The local "color" of the state has changed from green to vibrant reds, yellows and oranges. Fall always was a gorgeous, though short, time of year. I remember it well and sometimes miss it.

Currently, I don't miss that local color. I miss the local "color" of big Northern cities.

I was walking down a side street today at lunch, and in spite of the person wearing a tank top and shorts jumping rope on the sidewalk, I was momentarily struck by how much the street reminded me of New York. Not Broadway, but a small neighborhood street, like something you'd see on the West Side. It had small, local shops with nondescript signs, but each one had a glass front where people could sit and watch passerby. There was some litter on the street ( a far cry from our meticulously maintained Main St.) and homemade signs plastered higgldy-piggldy all over. I just had a moment.

Later I read a friend's blog who is in New York, and I felt a jealous pang. I wanted to be there in the hustle and bustle and 24-7 excitement. I wanted to be where unique people sit in unique shops with unique food. I wanted to be in a memory.

I love my current home city and I wouldn't trade it for the world. But sometimes, a girl can't help but long for a change of scenery.

All The Juicy Details

2005-10-26T16:55:00.000-07:00

For those of you wanting to know the how and when of my recent engagement (Yeah!), here is the vital information.

Friday, October 14, 2005. 7:30 PM

Brad and I make our way down to Fall for Greenville - a fall festival that stretches the entire length of Main St. and showcases the restaurants and businesses of Greenville. Our first priority: food. We're both starving. The trick is to find something we both want as quickly as possible. There's just so much to choose from.

We rather quickly decide on some Japanese teriaki chicken and rice. We get rather substantial portions (usually these tents give the smallest amounts conceivable) and try to find somewhere to sit and eat. Brad says over his shoulder, "Follow me."

We head towards the Plaza Bergamo - a concrete square area on Main St. with tables and behind which is a grassy area with benches under a long, vine-covered arbor on the left side. He heads towards these benches. He asks me which one is "our" bench. You see, we sat on one on our first date and had our first kiss on the same bench. I tell him it is the third one down.

We sit on the bench and begin to eat. I can't for the life of me understand WHY we are sitting here because it's very windy and chilly and he's shivering so bad he can barely eat his rice. But, sit here we do.

After we finish, we sit for a moment and Brad says to me, "I think your phone's ringing." I listen and hear nothing. "Nope," I say.

We wait a few minutes just sitting together. (I'm still confused as to why, but I'm not complaining)

"I really think your phone is ringing," he repeats.

I check my phone. It hadn't rang, but there was a beep because a picture message was showing as having arrived.

I think this is odd as Brad is the only who sends me pictures messages, and he's sitting right beside me. I open my phone and wait for the picture file to open. The title of the picture is "Honey?"

The picture I see is Brad and Blue (his dog) together. Brad is holding an object in his hand.

Before I realize what the object in his hand is, Brad gets down on one knee in front of me and holds out an object in his hand.

I stare kinda stupidly at the object while holding my opened phone in one of my hands. As I hear the words, "Heather Von Kamp, will you marry me?" I realize what the object is. It's a ring box with a very sparkly thing in it.

I almost drop the phone and my empty hand goes to my mouth. My eyes tear up and I start to chockingly cry. It takes me about a minute before I finally gasp out, "Yes."

Brad smiles. He takes out the ring (white gold band, round diamond), puts it on my finger, and kisses me while still kneeling on the ground.

When I start breathing normally again and can think a clear thought, I review the picture on the phone better and realize that Brad had taken the picture at the very spot we were at. At the bottom Brad had typed, "Will you marry us?" but I hadn't scrolled down far enough to see it before Brad actually proposed. (He kinda jumped the gun, but it was so cute=)

After we talked for a few minutes and I called my parents (who had known for two weeks and never let on), we went back to the festival and joined some friends of ours who knew it was coming and we celebrated long into the night.

Brad said forever ago that he really wanted to surprise me with the proposal. He couldn't have picked a more surprising time. I was totally not expecting it. I had told him not to propose in a big crowd of people. Well, Fall for Greenville draws in 20,000 to Greenville, so I naturally didn't think he'd do it then. Technically, though, he kept to my demands by proposing in a secluded spot away from the 20,000 people, but close enough so we could join them and I could be super excited around them all.

That, my friends, is my proposal. Wasn't it wonderful? (Sigh)

Going to the chapel

2005-10-17T15:52:00.000-07:00

I'm getting married!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Coming: September 2006

Academic Atrophy

2005-10-11T14:18:00.000-07:00

My scholarly muscles are being tested for the first time in years, and I feel every strain. The muscle memory is still intact, thankfully, but my return to academia is slow. I've forgotten what it's like to really prep for a paper - and the prep I'm doing now is the biggest of my life (for my PhD dissertation). I have to write a fairly decent proposal to be accepted into a program. It's a steep mountain, and if I'm not qualified for the task, I'll not be climbing and my time in Scotland will remain restricted to my dreams.

I'm in training after some time off, and I'm finding the return more difficult than I anticipated. Not only are my brain muscles working overtime, but my nerves are quaking too.

If this stress doesn't at least equate to some calorie burn, it will be a complete waste of time.

Nostalgia

2005-10-10T12:48:00.000-07:00

I'm a very simple person at heart. I don't want very many things. I want a house, a family, and food on the table. I want enough money to provide for my someday children. That's it. I don't have to have a really nice house or a fancy car or tons of things to clutter my home. I don't need the latest and greatest technological advances. I just want a good, peaceful, uncomplicated life.

I'm very much wishing life was like it was in the early 1800s. People lived primarily on farms where they created their own food from crops and cattle. I would welcome the simplicity of waking up every day to spend most of the day working in the fields or cooking. I would gladly spend my evenings quietly in front of a good fire sewing or reading or playing with my children. I would like to live in a time when cash money wasn't such an essential and careers weren't really in existence let alone so cutthroat. I would love to return to an era when morals, decency, compassion and neighborhood togetherness were not archaic terms.

I'm tired of our cash cow society. I'd rather go over to my neighbor's and say, "I've got some canned peaches to trade for some wheat. Sound fair?" rather than picking out the cheapest wheat flour amidst the plenty at Wal-Mart.

Yeah, I'd hate the disease and poor medical help back then, but if I didn't know any differently, I suppose it wouldn't bother me. Medicine would be my only concern about going back in time.

Sorry for my rant. I'm just tired of life being so complex 24-7.

Ah, Rain

2005-10-06T10:08:00.000-07:00

I'm not usually a rain fan. I like bright, sunny days with few clouds and no haze. I strongly dislike gloomy, pale-gray days without any sun at all. These days make me feel depressed.

Today, I am thrilled to look out my window and see that it's pouring.

The month of September was a long, hot (85-95 every day), no-rain month. Everything has turned brown and crispy. Leaves weren't changing colors as much as drying up and just falling off. Even with the persistent sun, my view was depressing.

Personally, the month of September has also been a dry month spiritually. Hopes and dreams and efforts have been burnt by the blazing heat of disappointment. I need a soaking wash of fulfilled desires. I need refreshing.

Now, the rain is falling nice and steady outside, quenching the thirst of parched land.

I'm hoping merciful drops from Heaven will soon quench my thirst, too.

Quick Succession of Busy Nothings (or Somethings?)

2005-09-20T14:51:00.000-07:00

There's a line in Jane Austen's novel, Mansfield Park, where the heroine, Fanny Price, is writing her sister about her life at Mansfield. She talks about the idiosyncrasies of the family she's living with, and finishes her letter by saying, "Life moves on, a quick succession of busy nothings."

I sort of feel that way lately. I've done thousands of random things, but to what purpose? I read, I write, I work, I cook, I clean, I avoid cleaning, I water my plants, I sleep, I watch movies and I go out with friends. But it's the same old, same old, and frankly, it's just old. I've fallen into a distinct and alarming pattern. I've become predictable!

Where is my creativity? I used to be overrunning with it. Now, I'm a barren, desert wasteland. I haven't thought of anything original to do in forever. I'm busy, but doing nothing worthwhile.

I know what part of my problem is. Part of it is a lack of greenbacks. But that's a poor excuse. As a kid I was entertained by a folding table, two chairs, and some blankets - all of which I had at home. I could spend hours with those objedts alone - creating stories and adventures. I didn't have money then.

So what's different?

I'll tell you: responsibility. I had so little as a kid. I have so much now.

I'm going to make a poster that says, "Responsibilty=Creative Suicide"

My one small glimmer of hope comes in the form of a job I'm trying desperately to secure. It would be a much more creative job than I have now. If I get the job, I think I'll put the aforementioned poster in my office - for me and all other creative minds stuck in a rut.

Take the bad with the good

2005-09-07T14:23:00.000-07:00

I have one of those daily scripture verse calendars on my desk at work. Today's verse just seemed to strike a cord with me: "The sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us." (Romans 8:18). It just reminded me that no matter how we suffer (you can determine your own definition of that word), our "sufferings" can't even be compared with the peace and glory we will later find because it will so far surpass our pain. It's such a wonderful thought.

Climax?

2005-09-02T15:11:00.000-07:00

Oh, my head hurts from news reports, but I can't stop listening to or reading news updates. I'm both irritated by and sympathetic for the people of the Gulf states. I'm in a state of almost disbelief. I feel like we're living in the world of The Terminator - but without the robotic killing machines. No one has sense. Nothing makes sense. Time has slowed to a crawl. Southern America - as a unified consciousness - is despairing. I swear to you, the South hasn't felt this bad since the Civil War.

Here are my feelings right now in brief:

The president is NOT responsible for this disaster and is NOT the only one to blame for the slow response, so people need to give him, personally, a break. You want to criticize the government as a whole, go ahead, but the fate of the nation does NOT truly rest on one man's head. Quit picking on what didn't happen and what wasn't planned for and start doing something about the problem that exists.

Those shooting at the very people trying to help them - well, you've made your choice. You will deal with the consequences eventually.

Those working as hard as they can to help: God bless and protect you.

Those suffering and dying: I'm sorry and I wish I could help you in a more tangible way. You're more than just a public spectacle.

Those who are out of the mess but have no homes or lives to return to: Phoenix is a great mytholoical character, and he should be your mascot.

Eventually, all the anger, terror, hunger, hurt, sorrow, destruction, rioting, and blaming has to end. And it will. IT WILL!

Katrina's Antics

2005-08-30T15:34:00.000-07:00

When you're not in the direct path of a hurricane, you can look at hurricane weather in a different way. In South Carolina, we are feeling some effects of Katrina, but they are funny rather than disturbing. One minute, the sun is out. The next minute, downpour. Sun. Rain. No, sun. No, rain. Wind. Sun. Rain. Sun. Wind. Rain. Very entertaining to me today as I have nothing to do at work but look out the window.

Not to make light of those who lost loved ones or homes. To those people, I offer my most sincere sympathy. God be with you all.

I feel like a woman . . . I guess

2005-08-29T16:15:00.000-07:00

What is it about a woman wearing high heels? Do our legs really look THAT much better? I'm wearing (I admit) some pretty high-heeled shoes today. Just some simple black ones from Payless. I'm also wearing a very moderate knee-length, a-line black skirt. I've worn it several times before. Today, however, I had to walk around downtown Greenville a little to make some deposits in several banks. I got a ton of whistles and hoots and holla's (hollers for you Yanks) as I walked.

Why? I don't get it. I've worn the same outfit, replacing my heels with my Mary Jane Birkenstock's, with NO reaction whatsoever. So it must be the heels. But why? And why do guys have to make fools of themselves? It's funny, really, how they think women are flattered by wolf whistles from shirtless, mullet-wearing men in a beat-up, mud-splattered pickup. Yeah, like THAT makes me feel sexy. Pa-lease!

I did, however, get one genuinely nice comment. I had a polite gentleman (no mullet and a shirt on) with a completely innocuous smile say I looked nice today. Now that made me feel like a woman.

Who has control?

2005-08-25T16:11:00.000-07:00

I feel like I have control . . . but then I don't. I'm steadily working at the Scotland applications (and there are a lot of them with multiple parts), and though I'm making progress, I don't feel like I'm making them fast enough. It's the lack of speedy communication that makes me feel like I'm lagging behind. I hate having to rely on e-mails because I know I don't always answer e-mails right away, so why should they? It could be next week before I get an answer I need. So frustrating. But, seeing as how it is people in Scotland, I can't just very well call them. Too expensive and the times are so different.

Ugh. No wonder people start this so much earlier than I did.

But I'm still working at it. One day at a time.

AAARRRGGGHHH!!!!

2005-08-22T15:57:00.000-07:00

I am such a dolt! I am trying to go to Scotland to begin my PhD work in 2007. Well, I wasn't thinking academic calendars when I started looking at application deadlines. For both scholarship and actual university applications, the deadlines for the 2006/2007 schoolyear are in October! I thought I had plenty of time because I thought the current applications were still for this school year. Boy, was I wrong. Now I am scrambling to get my applications filled-out, have the corresponding letters of recommendation ready on time, write deep and significant personal essays about my burning desire to study in Scotland, and secure funding by October - for next year! Wish me luck, kiddies. I need it.

Weekend Update

2005-08-22T09:14:00.000-07:00

I had what I like to call a "homey" weekend. I spent the weekend at Brad's dad's house in Edgefield, SC. It's a really small town with nothing to do there, but we enjoyed a very nice pool and plenty of margaritas.=) Time spent there always seems so refreshing. We relax, talk, eat, watch movies, and sleep. I always come home well-rested. It's very much my home away from home. It doesn't substitute going home, but it's as close as I can get while still in South Carolina. Yea relaxing weekends!

Overlyverbose

2005-08-19T08:56:00.000-07:00

For those of you actually willing to look at my blog site, I apologize for the length of my entries. What can I say? I'm an English major who read British Victorian fiction for fun. I, therefore, suffer the malady of being overlyverbose. (I think and write too much).

Please pardon me for there is no cure.

Individual in Pairs

2005-08-18T07:04:00.000-07:00

Oh, I have wedding fever. In the past 5 years I have been invited to 4 weddings and been in 3. I have seen every type of wedding and reception - from ultra chic to super easy - and I have gathered ideas from them all. I have been a bridesmaid, the maid of honor, and, believe it or not, the unpaid wedding "Nazi" who kept everything moving smoothly. I've even been the cake maker/decorator. I have been in every position a woman can be in except the bride's.

I'm not the least bit bitter, am I?

I've been dating my boyfriend for the last 2 and half years. I just turned 27. He just turned 30 this year. I promise you, I am not one step closer to having any ring on my left hand than I was two years ago. I don't really blame him. Or myself. We've both experienced a lot of changes in the last two years - especially the last year where at one point, both of us were unemployed. I've had health issues that turned me - a perfectly sane and competent woman - into a raving psyco-bitch who cried every 5 minutes. I'm just now getting back to my normal self.

I'm hitting the point in life where, like so many of my friends, I'm not at all where I thought I'd be by this age in life. I definitely thought I'd be married by now. I thought I'd be several years into my career - not just a job. Turns out life doesn't turn out like the self-directed movies in your head. Big shocker, huh?

On the other hand, I'm just now realizing what it means to be an individual living as part of a couple. I spent probably the first year and a half of my relationship trying to be whatever my boyfriend wanted me to be. I'd do anything to please him - no matter the cost to myself. I gave and gave and gave - and sometimes with no return. That's when the psycho-bitch started to emerge and the torrential crying began. I'd given away more than just my time and energy - I gave away me. I buried everything that was inherent to me as an individual. Even now, I struggle with putting myself first and just doing what I want.

I've had to realize that doing what I want doesn't necessarily mean I'll do it alone, but it does mean sometimes I will - and that's okay. I don't have to do EVERYTHING with Brad. I don't have to have his permission. I can just make plans. Of course, not plans that will drastically alter our relationship, but small plans are okay. Even large ones are more acceptable now.

For example, I want to go to Scotland to get my PhD. It's been something I've had on my mind for about 3 years now. It's time I actually start TRYING to go. I may not get there, but at least I can try. I talked to Brad very hesitantly about this because I know this move will affect him too. He is all for it. I think some of it is that he just wants to sell everything he owns and totally restart somewhere else, but another part is that he's excited to be supportive of something I actually WANT to do for myself.

It's funny that though I have severe wedding envy right now, I'm probably still not ready to say "I do" as an individual yet. I've still got to work on getting ME back first. But when I find her, watch out because then I'll be pushing for a ring big time.

Fear and Faith

2005-08-15T10:42:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking about the word fear today. What is it to fear something? Everyone's familiar with the concept of being frightened by a person sneaking up behind you or being in the woods at night all alone. That's when your adrenaline kicks in and the smallest of noises makes you jump and your hands are cold, but sweaty and your eyes dart every which way looking to find something to validate your fear.

But that's not the fear I've been thinking about.

I've been thinking about fear in the dehibilitating sense. The fear of failure. The fear of rejection. The fear of pain and suffering. The fear of being diagnosed with AIDS or diabetes or cancer. The fear of simply living life. This is the fear I've been thinking about.

Why? Because I've begun to realize that though I like to think I'm a strong, independent woman, I'm probably one of the most "frightened" people I know. I live in fear of so many things. Not because I've had really bad experiences, but more likely because I've never experienced things and I'm scared to try. I'm totally intimitated by strong people. I look up to them thinking, "I wish I could be like that. So carefree of people's opinions and expectations." But for some reason, I can't make myself BE like the person I so envy.

I've fit into certain molds people have "made" for me my whole life. It's hard to break out of the molds. It's hard to be the real person behind an actor who changes to fit each situation. I'm a chameleon who blends, and sometimes I'd really like to be like the robin who can't blend into any setting.

I've been thinking about what exactly has been stopping me, and I think I've found my answer: I'm afraid to go out and do things alone without support/approval from someone else. I'm female, so of course I ask about 10 people if whether a decision I'm thinking about making is the right one or not before I make it, but I've started doing this with trivial things such as what I'm having for dinner or what I'm going to do on a Tuesday night after work. It's ridiculous, really.

I've now come to really appreciate the verse in 2 Timothy 1:7: "For God has not given us a spirit of timidity, but of power and love and discipline."

God does not want me to be ashamed of the gifts He's given, the purpose He's given me, or the love I bear Him. In true love and faith, I need to go forth boldly and not worry so much about what everyone else is thinking about me all the time. I cannot live in fear of failure because as a human, I'm bound to fail sometime, somewhere, in somebody's eyes. By binding myself to the idea of pleasing everyone all the time, I bind myself to not living my own life. God does not want that. I do not want that.

So, my goal is to not live in fear, but just to live.

Opening Statements

2005-08-09T13:57:00.000-07:00

Greetings Y'all!

Just a little Southern humor to start my blogging. This is my first attempt at blogging, so excuse me if it takes me awhile to get the hang of it. I'm not that great at daily writings, so it may only be once a week. But keep checking for the latest info from the great state of South Carolina.

Random Thought/Quote:

I just got a 6G iPod mini for my birthday. I also got a bag of Oreos. I was just as excited about the Oreos as I was the iPod. I'm such a girl.