INTIMIDATING TIMES . . .

Today I had an interview . . . I know people who have been out of work for months without a single interview, so I am grateful that I got called to come in for one. The job is still only part time, but that works for me . . . It would be steady hours and the pay is considerably better than what I have been getting, and it is year round, so I would really like to get it. It isn't tutoring, which is what I love best . . . but it IS working with people, which is the part I love best about tutoring, so this job would work for me, I think . . .

I thought I was all calm and collected about this interview. In fact, a few days ago I was marveling at just how NOT stressed I was about it . . . LOL . . . I should have known it wouldn't last. Late Sunday night it suddenly hit me and I panicked. Then all that night I woke up every twenty minutes or so in a cold sweat in the midst of a dream about some disaster that struck on my way to or during the interview itself . . . I lost track of time and showed up an hour late (SOOOOOOOooooOOOO not me) . . . I got mugged in the elevator on the way to the interview (there is no elevator in the one story building where the interview would be held) . . . I got sick to my stomach and threw up all over the people interviewing me . . . I looked down mid-interview and discovered I had forgotten to put pants on . . . the interviewers all turned into giant snakes and were hissing and snarling at me (do snakes even snarl?!?) . . . etc, etc, etc.

Yeah . . . I have a VERY active imagination, so the dreams were awful. I would wake up, with my heart pounding, thinking "oh NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO . . . how could I have let this happen?!?!?" before (eventually) I would realize it was JUST a dream and think "WHEW" . . .

I knew it would be a panel interview, which are always more stressful and intimidating. Luckily for a few years I worked at the college in a capacity where I had to undergo a panel interview every single semester. I HATED it . . . but I thought it probably made THIS panel interview slightly less terrifying because I at least had some recent experience with them (and surviving).

So . . . today I went over to where my interview was, and waited in the car until about a half an hour before my scheduled time, then went in and told the receptionist I was there. At THAT point I realized I probably should have printed out a hard copy of my resume and brought it (uh oh . . . too late to do anything about it, but at least I DID remember to wear pants!)

Anyhow, I just prayed really hard -- not that I would get the job, because I am certainly not the only one trying to get a job, and I may not need it the most -- but simply that I would be able to be calm and confident, and do my best in the interview . . . and that those interviewing me would be able to get an accurate assessment of my abilities and talents and suitability for the job from my demeanor and answers. That is all. I just wanted it to be a good experience and to feel comfortable with how it went.

And I was. I really was. I mean, of course it is stressful to go to a job interview, especially one that involves multiple people asking you questions, and EVERYBODY taking notes on your answers. But none of the questions caught me off guard . . . and none flustered me. I felt like I was calm and collected, and that I was able to articulate my responses fairly well . . .

Of course, all the way home, I thought of MILLIONS of things I could have or should have said . . . things I should have elaborated on . . . things I forgot to say . . . etc . . . but I DID survive it, and it WAS a pretty good experience . . . so I am feeling really grateful . . .

Of course, I REALLY wish I could have been privy to the discussion they had after I left the room . . . but I should hear in a day or two or three if I made the list of those called back to a second interview. I guess then I will have a better idea of how things went , huh?

If nothing else comes of this (or even if I do get the second interview and still do not get the job) this whole process is good experience . . . The more interviews I do, the less intimidating they will be (theoretically) and the better I will get at thinking on my feet and responding to questions that are leveled at me . . . So I really AM grateful that I got called in for the interview . . .

LOL . . . soooooooooooooooooooooo . . . the big job hunt has officially begun . . .

So far, so good! ;o)

MY CHRISTMAS MIRACLE

I had an incredible experience with my MIL yesterday that I really want to write down before the memory of it fades.

A few days ago, I woke up in the midst of a dream about my mother-in-law . . . It wasn't a sad dream or a creepy dream or one where she was at the foot of my bed waving goodbye because she had died or whatever . . . and I woke up surprised because I hadn't been thinking about her particularly in the last few days or weeks, and there was no particular significance to the timing of the dream (no special days or occasions that might remind me of her or make me think of her subconsciously) . . . When my husband woke up I mentioned it to him and he said 'that is SO weird . . . I had a dream about her last night too' . . . His was very different from mine, but his, too, was neither ominous nor scary at all . . . I made a mental note to go visit her again soon, and then promptly forgot about it . . . like I said, this has been a crazy busy time . . .

Then yesterday as I was driving home from work, mentally reviewing all I had to accomplish between that moment and the book club meeting that night (I had to go to the bank, go to the grocery store, make a side dish to share, holiday goodies to share, and a few other things) and wondering how I could possibly get it all done in the little bit of time I had (2 hours) the thought popped into my head "I should stop and visit [my MIL]" . . . The timing seemed like the WORST ever, but because of the dreams, I drove to where she is, and went in to see her, not expecting much because the last two or three times I have been to see her, she has been asleep, and I ended up just sitting (or standing or squatting) by her, holding her hand in silence because it seemed mean to wake her. I imagine at this point in time her dreams are happier and more peaceful that the reality of her life, if she is at all aware of it . . .

To my surprise when I went in her room she absolutely LIT up. She was in bed, but awake, and she was DELIGHTED to see me. She has advanced Alzheimers and can no longer carry on a conversation . . . I mean, when she talks it is gibberish, though you can occasionally recognize a word or two, maybe even a partial phrase, but that is it.

This time was no different . . . I mean, almost nothing she said made any kind of recognizable sense, but she was CHATTY . . . She sat up in bed, and just chatted on and on and on . . . occasionally stopping to wait for a response or to chuckle. Like I said, it wasn't really a conversation . . . but I think to HER it was . . . so I told her about our holiday plans, and she told me about hers (lol . . . maybe) . . . We chatted like that for an hour and a half . . . and even though I didn't understand more than a word or two here and there that she said, it was HER I was talking to . . . the REAL her . . . It has been YEARS since I have felt like it was HER there when we visited . . . It was always just sort of a familiar-ish looking, vacant-eyed, slack-jawed stranger . . . but yesterday for that hour and a half, it was truly HER . . . I KNOW it was . . . The nursing staff walking by kept doing double takes, because it was so obvious that we were having a 'conversation' and she hasn't been capable of that for a very long time . . .

I stayed as long as I could . . . and I hated having to leave, but I finally had to . . . I gave her a hug and kissed her on her forehead and told her I would be back soon . . . and I walked out to my car and burst into tears . . . It was SUCH a sweet, incredible experience . . . I wished so much that my husband had been there to see his mom with me to share in it . . .

I think THAT will be my Christmas miracle this year . . . It was SUCH a sweet, beautiful hour and a half . . . I will cherish the memory of that forever . . .

Merry almost Christmas, everyone!

A CASE OF THE BLAHS . . .

You know, I KNEW I would miss the excitement and pressure of the NaNoWriMo challenge when it was over . . . Writing . . . my word count . . . the story developments were on my mind -- or at least simmering in the back of my mind -- ALL the time for that entire thirty days . . .

When it suddenly came to a screeching halt (a HAPPY screeching halt, because I really WAS jazzed that I 'won' and completed my word count in time!) I had a couple of days when I really felt sort of lost and even a little depressed, which isn't like me . . .

I guess I just sort of hit the wall . . .

After being SO focused on that writing (and I know that I don't have to STOP now, but it IS different, for whatever reason) . . . AND having SUCH a delightful friends-and-family-filled Thanksgiving weekend . . . AND being hit (not for the first time) with the sobering realization that I only have a little longer as a tutor, and not being sure about what the future holds . . . All those 'endings' sort of hit at once and I was just feeling SAD . . . and LOST . . .

I guess it all sort of hit at once when I was working with a student I have worked with for several years on Monday and she heard for the first time that I wouldn't be back in the winter OR the spring . . . and she got teary eyed . . . She even hugged me and thanked me for all the help I have been to her, but she still left with this sort of panicky look that made me SO sad. I know she will find other tutors to work with and receive the help she needs . . . but it really is difficult for me to even imagine what I will find to do next that I will enjoy even HALF as much as being a tutor.

Oh the pay was crap . . . but how many part time jobs can you say that you LOVED every minute of?!? And now it is over . . . or will be next Wednesday when I leave the campus . . . I have known since last April that this day was coming . . . and I have even known, deep down inside, that there would be no last minute reprieve, unlike last May . . . No more loopholes to keep non-student tutors working a little longer. This isn't a SURPRISE . . . but Monday the sadness and FINALITY of having something that has been such a BIG part of my life for six or seven years now come to an end has just really hit . . .

I know that I will be okay . . .

I know that I will find something else and learn to enjoy it, too . . .

Life will be DIFFERENT, but still good . . .

But . . . for now, I am just . . . SAD . . .



I also have realized in this past week, that I need to put my NaNoWriMo story aside for the month and just concentrate on enjoying Christmas and the holidayishness of the next few weeks . . . I have appreciated all the interest in reading my story, and I AM willing to share (and WILL) . . . I want to do some minimal editing and polishing (and READ my story through, from start to finish) but I have been dragging my feet all week, and I just realized that is because after focusing on it SO intensely for the entire month of November, I need to back off, and give myself a complete break from it . . . so that I can come back to it with a fresh perspective . . .

When I do that in January, I will be HAPPY to share . . . so if you would like to read it (and it wont hurt my feelings if you do not want to . . . it is LONG) let me know what email address you would like it sent to, and I will. You can leave your email address here in a comment, or email it to me at KeepInTouchForever@hotmail.com, it that is easier . . . and I WILL be happy to share . . . I think because I HAD to turn my internal editor off for this exercise (to write SO much in such a short time) I feel less territorial and protective about this story than I usually do . . . which is an interesting experience, all on its own . . .

So all I ask is if you DO read it, that you give me some feedback . . . NOT feedback like "this stinks" or "cool story" . . . but things like "the dialogue here just didn't feel natural" . . . or "this part moves a little slowly" . . . "the detail here was more distracting than helpful" . . . or "I like this description here" . . .

A generic overall comment isn't helpful at all . . . and if you write at all, you will understand why . . . specifics ARE helpful, even if they are criticisms . . .

Perhaps you will find the story to be poorly written or boring (a definite possibility) . . . Perhaps it simply wont be your genre (also a definite possibility) . . . Maybe you will have issues with points/situations/etc in the story . . . All of those are okay, and I understand already that they are definite possibilities . . . but IF you tell me you would like to read it, I really would like HONEST feedback . . .

But not til January . . . because for my sanity, I am taking December off and I am not even going to THINK about my story again til then . . .

For now, I am just going to concentrate on enjoying this holiday season . . . In fact tomorrow morning (it is now 3:30 AM and I am up because I am sick and cannot sleep without coughing) I think I will decorate the tree and then bake something yummy . . . I want my home to LOOK and SMELL Christmasy!!! =o)

VICTORY!!!!!!!

WHOOOO HOOOOOO!!!!!!

I DID IT!

I am SO thrilled . . . I actually wrote a 50,000+ word story . . . and it DOESN'T (I don't think) completely stink!!!!!



=o)

I even took three days off from it completely this week so I could concentrate on and enjoy my company and the holidays, and I STILL managed to finish a few days early.

Now, no matter what else I do in my life, I can always say that I won the NaNoWriMo challenge in 2010!!!!! (And yeah . . . everybody who completes the 50,000 word challenge 'wins' . . . but I don't mind sharing the honors . . . I am simply grateful to be among them . . .

WOW . . .

This felt SO challenging at the other end, when I had no idea what it would take to accomplish (or even if I COULD accomplish it) . . . but I hung in there, and did it . . .

I am really, REALLY pleased . . . =o)

ALMOST DONE . . .

It is now day 23 . . . and I am ALMOST done . . . My word count is (right this moment) 48,462 . . . so I have a little over fifteen hundred words left to write.

I am SOOOOooOOOOOO close . . .

I have to say that this has really been a good experience.

I started it a little overwhelmed and scared, worried that I could NEVER write fifty thousand words in only thirty days . . . and I have discovered along the way that I most certainly CAN . . . and it didn't even have to take over my life to do it. I still had time to watch TV in the evenings with my husband . . . serve in my callings (even prepare for and teach a RS lesson during the month) . . . play with my grandkids . . . keep my house cleaned . . . cook actual meals . . . I even took Sundays off, with no ill effects. Well almost no ill effects . . . I do have to admit that on Mondays it was a little harder to get back 'into' my story after a full day away, not even THINKING about my story line or characters.

Despite that little difficulty, however, I still think taking a break each week was a good idea. I liked the mental break, and I think it has kept me from being totally overwhelmed or consumed by this project . . . because frankly, I can get way obsessive . . . ;o)

And, I have to say that I like my story . . . in all its rough edges-currently-unedited/unpolished glory . . .Oh, its not an 'important' story . . . It really isn't. It isn't epic on any level . . . and I know that, but I wont apologize for it.

It is just the quiet little story about a young girl growing up . . . learning to deal with changing family dynamics . . . navigating the shifting loyalties of friendships . . . being willing to try new, stretchy experiences . . . making new friends . . . dealing with new feelings and new experiences . . .

She doesn't have all the answers . . . she doesn't speak in a steady stream of witty, hip one-liners . . . the adults are not stupid, two-dimensional cartoons that are the perceived cause of all her problems in life . . .

I like my characters . . . I like how this is flowing together like a story, and that the characters are almost taking on a life of their own, saying and doing things that I hadn't envisioned, and that almost seem outside my control, though, of course, it IS my fingers on the computer keys . . .

I am so glad I gave this a try, even though it was scary for me.

This has been GOOD for me . . .



And I am already well aware that I will MISS it . . . even though, there is, of course, nothing to prevent me from continuing to write, continuing to work on this story, continuing to polish it and work out the inconsistencies and smooth the rough edges . . .

Still, working on this challenge this month has seemed almost magical . . . and I am loathe to have that end . . . It has added a little sparkle to my life that I have absolutely LOVED . . .

I think that it has turned me into . . . yeah . . . one of those . . .





A writer . . .


WOW . . .

MAKING PROGRESS . . .

Week three is going a little easier than last week. I am now sixteen days in to the NaNoWriMo challenge, and have 34,103 words. Another thousand words and I will be ten thousand words above the halfway point, so I am pretty much on target. This has been an interesting experience, unlike any other writing I have ever attempted.

Because the emphasis is on QUANTITY of words, over QUALITY of writing, it is very freeing. I have given my internal editor the month off, and refuse to even worry about how good my story is or how important it might be. I am just completely immersing myself in the joy of simply WRITING. After November 30, when the dust has settled, I can sit back and begin to review the story and make a judgment as to its value at that point. Honestly, though, I probably wont even do that til after all the holidays. It will be good to put it aside and forget all about it for a month, then in January, after Christmas is all put away and recovered from, I can begin to read through and evaluate if there is worth to what I wrote, and what can stay and what needs to go . . . looking for inconsistencies and places that need to be revised or fleshed out . . . finding characters to weed out or revamp, etc. I have no doubt that I will enjoy that process when the time for it comes, because I always love revising and editing my writing, watching it slowly come together as I face the flaws and work to smooth the rough places. But that time is NOT now . . .

Interestingly, enough, I shared my story (61 single-spaced pages) in all its spectacularly unedited glory with a friend today. Normally that would be hard for me to do. Usually it is like sharing your baby . . . holding it up for people to criticize . . . Under other circumstances I would be feeling vulnerable and defensive and very, very protective. Perhaps I would feel that way about THIS story, if I had started with a storyline in mind, like so many did.

But when I began this 'adventure' I had NOTHING . . . No ideas at ALL . . . no story line . . . no characters in mind . . . not even any idea of the KIND of story I wished to write about. Because of that, I feel this curious sense of detachment with it, which is very unusual for me. Perhaps that simply means that on some level I already KNOW that it stinks (a very real possibility). I suspect, though, that it is more because I didn't PLAN this story . . . I had no expectations or dreams for it . . . so that I keep being surprised by the things the characters do and say, the little twists and turns in the plot that I didn't plan or expect. Because of that, I feel no more ownership of it than I would if a scruffy dog followed me home from the grocery store. I might feel curiosity, maybe even compassion, but I am not going to feel any sense of responsibility for it. Does that make sense? So if you say to me, "WHOA . . . that is ONE ugly puppy", I don't get defensive or hurt . . . I would simply look over at the dog, and think 'you know, she is right'. LOL . . .

So I shared it with someone who asked to read it. That is a first for me. Oh, not the first time I have shared my writing. I have done that numerous times, even submitted some for publication, and had a few pieced actually published. But I NEVER shared it (whatever 'it' was . . . a poem, a story, an essay, whatever) before *I* was pretty satisfied with the level of polishing and reworking and revising I had done . . . I had to first get it to the point that I wouldn't be embarrassed by its unfinishedness before I could share it with someone whose judgment I respected.

I think that just might be progress . . .

Or . . . now that I think of it, perhaps it is just sheer mental exhaustion . . .



LOL . . . time will tell, I suppose . . . ;o)



But in the meantime, I am enjoying the process of becoming acquainted with these people who have chosen to inhabit my story . . . It has been a pleasure to get to know them, and watch them act and react to life as it happens around them.

PLUGGING AWAY . . .

Sometimes this is what I feel like with this NaNoWriMo challenge . . . fifty thousand words is a LOT of words . . . and this week was definitely harder than week one. Apparently there really IS a 'week two' syndrome where you feel overwhelmed and like kicking yourself for even THINKING of writing a stupid book . . . and I had it . . .

But . . . I still just kept plugging away, and decided not to worry about my word count as much as just try to recapture my enjoyment of my story . . . and I finally got past my slump.

Today is day 13 . . . and my word count is 28,746, so I am well over halfway to the 'finish' line . . . and not quite half way through the month. I take Sundays off . . . not really sure why, since this isn't WORK or even SCHOOL . . . but I think it helps keep it fresh to be able to step away from it completely for one day a week, and not even worry about the story or accomplishing anything on it.

I have to admit, this may be a REALLY hastily written work-in-progress, not yet edited or revised or fleshed out, but I LIKE it. Oh, I freely admit that it may very well be sheer rubbish . . . but it is MY sheer rubbish . . . and I am growing quite fond of my characters and the situations that are building here.

They are my FRIENDS . . .

LOL . . . and here I thought people outgrew their imaginary friends when they grew up . . . I guess *I* am one of the ones to just BEGIN to discover them in my 'old' age . . .

It's kinda fun, actually . . . ;o)

HAPPY HAPPY JOY JOY!!!

I have no idea who the woman in the photo is -- but I liked the picture, and it kind of captured my mood.

I am SO jazzed . . .

I am on day four of this thirty day marathon and I have already written just over 10,000 words. I am a FIFTH of the way to home stretch!!!

It was intimidating to start NaNoWriMo with a COMPLETELY blank slate . . . no story ideas, no characters, absolutely ZIP . . . but I was determined to give this stretchy exercise my best shot anyways, and somehow it IS coming together as a story.

I mean, I freely admit it might be sheer rubbish, (and probably IS, at this point) but I am having the time of my life working on it . . . I just sneak away for little snippets of time which often turn into hours and hours. The process is very energizing, and definitely adds a delightful sparkle to life. Kind of like having a secret lover, I suppose, only without any of the soul searing deceit and awful lies.

THIS 'adventure' I can share WITH my husband . . . and he is cheering me on. I suppose he is a little baffled as to just what the appeal of this is, but he is being VERY supportive, even when I wake him up in the middle of the night to announce my latest word count or some plot twist that JUST occurred to me . . .

This is, indeed, a VERY patient man! Thank you, honey!!! =o)

. . . AND SO IT BEGINS . . .

NaNoWriMo kicks off at 12:01 tonight (or is that considered tomorrow morning?) so I may very well be scarce around here, both posting and visiting other people's blogs . . . Sorry, it is nothing personal, I simply want to give this challenge my all, and not having ever done it before, I have no idea how much of my time and energy it will consume . . .

So I am giving myself permission to slack off here (as to my challenge to try and post every few days) for the month of November. I will be back December first . . . and who knows, maybe I will need some kind of a safety valve outlet like blogging or reading blogs to break things up a little . . . In which case you may not even notice a difference in my rate of posting . . . Like I said, I really have NO idea . . .

But if worst comes to worst . . . please know that you are still in my thoughts and prayers . . . and I'LL BE BACK (said in my best, fake Arnie governator voice) . . . ;o)

OUTSIDE MY COMFORT ZONE . . .

I know that I am weird (probably in many ways) but especially in the fact that I am occasionally forced to admit that my comfort zone is about the size of a postage stamp. Yeah . . . really. How pathetic is that?

This past week I had to face down several of my comfort zone demons . . . and I am proud to report that I DID . . . EVEN THOUGH the process about killed me off.

Now, I may heartily wish that those demons were things like jumping out of an airplane or rappelling down the side of the grand canyon (SOOOOoooOOOO not ever gonna happen) . . . but they were much littler. MUCH much MUCH littler.

I became aware of a job opening that I needed both a resume AND a letter of recommendation for . . . in a hurry. The application window was only open for one week, and by the time I became aware of it, I had three days before it closed. I had to ask someone to write the letter of recommendation with THAT little notice, at a time when the professors I know and work with are absolutely SWAMPED (its midterm time). I was surprised at HOW hard it was to even ask someone. I couldn't ask either of my current bosses, because they are on the hiring committee (but only two of about fourteen voices). Because of that potential conflict of interest, I couldn't approach either of them. Anyhow, after giving it a LOT of thought, I decided on someone that I have worked with before, and emailed her, apologizing for the short notice. Part of the problem was that a coworker who was also applying for the job (actually there are two openings) had shown me HER letter of recommendation. This woman is a friend of mine and I think the world of her, but after I read her letter, I was SO intimidated. It really made her sound bulletproof AND like she could walk on water. YIKES . . . I was sure that MINE would read along the lines of 'kind to small, furry animals and old people' . . . sigh . . .

Still, even if I didn't stand a CHANCE for this job, I knew the experience of applying would be good for me, because my job IS going away after this semester, and there will not be another 'loophole' rescue at the last minute again. I NEED to look for a new job, and the more practice I get, the less intimidating and 'root-canal-without-Novocaine-ish' (hopefully) the process will become.

Maybe.

I am not ENTIRELY convinced . . . but the idea does seem fairly logical . . .

So I did. I asked for a letter of recommendation, while apologizing profusely as to the very short notice. The professor agreed, but did say she wasn't sure how she was going to work it in , time-wise, but that she would give it her best shot, and asked me to hunt down some dates and data and send her a description of the job I was applying for, which I did. Then I waited . . . and waited . . . and waited . . .

The other difficult thing about this was that I had to have a resume. I know that is standard, and probably everyone else in the universe over about age twelve has already written one, but I have never ever had to write one before. EVER. I have proofread my husband's a million times . . . glanced at other people's . . . but never even THOUGHT about writing one for myself. Normally I would have had my husband and my daughter help me (and by 'help me' I mean, of course, let them do it FOR me) . . . but my daughter currently has very limited access to the Internet and my husband was busy, so his help consisted of showing me where there are resume templates on Word, and occasionally interjecting a 'you should add [blah, blah, blah].' His suggestions were helpful, but still left it for ME to figure out what to write and how to phrase things , etc. I know this is incredibly wimpy of me, but that was terrifying to me . . . I was SO overwhelmed with that task.

BUT . . . ta da . . . I DID IT!!!!! The letter of recommendation came in time, and it was amazing . . . I was SO touched at what she wrote. (HAHAHAHAHAH . . . and I had to IMMEDIATELY stifle the urge to ask every professor I have ever taken a class from or worked with to write me a letter of recommendation . . . Now THAT is pathetic!) Anyhow, I got it all done in a manner that I felt good about AND completed the application process on time. I did hit a frustrating snag trying to add an optional attachment, and gave up on that because it was time for me to go to the church Halloween Trunk-or-treat Spectacular and I had an adorable little teenaged mutant ninja turtle and his daddy waiting impatiently for me to finish . . .

I almost don't even care about whether or not I get the job (I mean, of course I DO) but I am just so absurdly proud of myself for even TRYING . . . for writing a resume . . . for asking for the letter of recommendation . . . and turning them in, that I feel triumphant just for THAT. The job itself would just be icing on the cake . . .

While still basking in the glow of my successfully applying for THAT job, I also filled out another application the next day. It was difficult in a different way, but I did it, too. YAY!!!! Go ME!

I know that turning in two applications hardly even merits a blip on the radar screen of job hunting, especially in this economic climate . . . but DANG I am proud of me!!!

LOL . . .

You know what they say about small minds and simple pleasures, huh? ;o)

IT'S ALL A MATTER OF PERSPECTIVE . . .

I had kind of an interesting experience this weekend . . . but before I share it, I need to give some background first . . .

When my husband and I married, we both came from really close knit families . . . and that fact (even though that is a really GOOD thing) caused a great deal of friction between us over the years . We lived in the same city as both our families for the first few years (actually we lived just a few blocks away for most of that time) and we loved the ease with which we could visit and spend time with our families.

However, I also remember feeling a little claustrophobic at times (as awful as that sounds), because my husband's parents had poor health AND were kind of lonely and they wanted us to spend a great deal of time with them. In fact, I soon began to dread early Saturday morning phone calls. When the phone rang at that time, it was inevitably my mother-in-law, calling to ask my husband to come over and help with some project or chore, (because his dad shouldn't be doing it and would probably drop dead in the middle if he insisted on doing it anyways -- which he ALWAYS did). She would always add, 'and bring Sue (and the babies, when they came along) and we will have a pool party and bbq afterwards'. It wasn't that I didn't LIKE spending time with them . . . I did. They were fun, interesting people, and they tried to include me. I just hated spending all day EVERY Saturday with them . . .

My husband worked full time, went to school full time and Sundays were busy with church . . . I was (I can admit NOW) very resentful that they expected us to spend every Saturday (the ONLY day that was OURS from start to finish) with them. I HATED that . . . And (if I am going to be honest) when I was over there, they often had conversations for HOURS about places I had never lived (or been to) and people I had never met (nor ever WOULD) . . . I felt left out and kind of bored . . .

To be fair, my husband often complained that when I went to my folks' home that HE became invisible . . . I got so busy visiting with my sisters and parents -- laughing and talking -- that he needed a crowbar to get me to leave . . .

Come to think of it, that just may have been our biggest 'issue' the first few years we were married . . .

Then after the birth of our second son, we moved a hundred miles away. That geographical move was difficult because we WERE both very close to our families, but it was also VERY good for us . . . for BOTH of us . . .

The move meant that we were no longer two minutes away . . . It is a much bigger deal to drive two hours to visit than to drive (or walk) a few blocks, and with my husband's busy schedule, our visits became less frequent. We still tried to get down every month or two . . . but that depended on the mechanical reliability of our cars, the health of the kids, my husband's work and school projects and our ability to afford the gas . . .

That distance was good for us . . . Good for us as a couple AND as a family . . . It MADE us depend on one another, and learn to better communicate and compromise in our relationship . . . because there simply was nobody else to turn to, for most things. Oh, we eventually made friends and developed a support network locally . . . but the move away from family broke up some patterns that were getting established in our life that were causing some major resentment and other issues.

When we did make it down for a visit, I still got tired of chasing the kids in a house FULL of antiques that couldn't be touched or around a backyard with a deep canyon and an unfenced swimming pool . . . I loved my inlaws, but I could NEVER relax over there when I had kids with me, and when we walked through the front door, it felt like my husband turned into someone I didn't recognize and became more THEIR son than MY husband or the father of OUR children . . .

My husband also kept complaining about me forgetting all about HIM when we went to my family's home . . . My family WELCOMED him . . . but he, too, felt like the odd man out there . . .





This weekend, I had the opportunity to remember all that quite vividly . . . especially all that resentment I had towards his parents those early years.

It was kind of eye opening . . .

ESPECIALLY to see it from THIS perspective, now that I am no longer the young wife, but have somehow inexplicably morphed into the 'mother-in-law' . . .



When adult children go home for a visit, maybe especially if they are (and were) close to siblings and parents, they DO sort of slip back into that old, comfortable pattern of family dynamics . . . It certainly isn't that they do not LOVE their own families, or that they forget them . . . It is just sort of a brief foray into nostalgia . . . And it is absolutely precious . . .


I REALLY wish I had understood that sooner . . .



I wish I had been mature enough to accept that my husband cherished his family and his loving them didn't really take anything away from me . . .

I wish that I had been willing to just TALK to him about my feelings of feeling overlooked and left out, so that we could have come to some kind of a workable compromise, instead of just letting hurt and resentful feelings fester and grow . . . Why on earth did I think that he should just KNOW how I felt and fix it without my being willing to sit down and DISCUSS the matter?!? And WHY was I SO sure that it was HIM that needed to do all the changing to make it work more comfortably for me?!?

I wish SO much I could have -- even for a few moments -- had the vision of THIS perspective . . . of being the PARENT of an adult, dearly loved child who is home briefly for a visit . . .



Oh MAN . . . ALL those YEARS . . . ALL that ENERGY that I wasted being seethingly resentful of something that I should have been cherishing and celebrating . . .

No, it wasn't particularly fun being the bump-on-a-log witness to conversation after conversation about people I didn't know or care about and places I had never been . . . but I should have been asking questions . . . and listening avidly to soak up the history of my husband's family, his roots . . . I should have been more grateful that he came from a healthy, nurturing family dynamic where the members DID love and enjoy one another, instead of begrudging the time he spent (and wanted to spend) with them . . .




SIGH . . . Like with most things in life, it is all a matter of perspective . . .



I wish SO much that I had made the effort to learn how to be better at stepping outside my own personal perspective to see things from different angles . . . I know better now how fleeting those precious times are . . . We will not be around forever . . .



When I look back, I cannot help but think what an absolute waste of my time and energy . . .


I wish SO much that I could go back and savor those years . . . EVEN if it took us some time to find and work out compromises that satisfied both of us . . .




If I had only known THEN what I know NOW . . .




SIGH . . .

OK . . . NOW WHERE THE HECK IS THAT PANIC BUTTON . . .

This is silly . . . I KNOW this is silly . . . Ridiculous, even . . .

But I am almost SICK with panic over the NaNoWriMo thing . . . I mean how STUPID . . .

FIRST of all, it is VOLUNTARY . . . *I* chose to sign up and participate, nobody made me . . .

SECOND, there is NO PENALTY attached to wimping out and deciding not to do it . . . OR to trying and not making the full 50,000 words . . .

THIRD, I LOVE to write . . .

So I KNOW this panic is not only completely and thoroughly unproductive, it is also incredibly . . . well . . . SILLY . . .

I keep waking up at night in a cold sweat, wondering if writer's block will descend (and stay for an entire month) . . .

I also wake up at night (at what FEELS like twenty minute intervals) thinking of story lines I could write about (so far, they have all been incredibly bad . . . but maybe TONIGHT I will hit the jack pot . . . it COULD happen . . . hypothetically, at least) . . .



And even with all this nonsense and feeling sick to my stomach and panicky feelings of 'what the HECK was I thinking??!?!?!???' I still feel excited and energized in a way I haven't felt for a long time . . .

I AM going to do this . . .


I WANT to do this . . .





I AM -- at heart, even if I never get published beyond the few poems and short stories I have had published -- a WRITER . . .

NO PRESSURE . . .

I had an interesting conversation the other day with someone about this blog . . . (I know . . . I know . . . blogging about blogging is inane. . . but I have a point I want to make, so hear me out, please). This person is someone I love dearly and have enormous respect for . . . and when the person asked me a question about where to find something, I answered "I think there is a link on my blog" . . . to which the response was "Oh, I don't read your blog anymore . . . It is boring" . . .

LOL . . .

It didn't hurt my feelings . . . Actually it made me laugh . . . I mean, isn't blogging essentially self absorbed . . . just by the nature of the beast? On a recent Criminal Minds (well . . . maybe not recent . . . I mostly watch old reruns . . . but on one I watched for the first time recently) they were investigating a serial killer who targeted women off of 'social networking sites' . . . and so on the plane trip over, the team members were discussing the phenomenon of social networking sites, and one character is looking at a screen shot and says "eating a muffin . . . YUM!" . . . "boss wants me to work late tonight . . . GGRRRR" . . . He then turns to the other team members in disbelief and says "who on earth WRITES this stuff?!?!?? Do they really think that ANYBODY wants to READ it or CARES?!??" (or words to that effect).

I hope this doesn't hurt anybody's feelings, but I think MySpace and even Facebook are stupid. Yes, I have a facebook account . . . and yes, I even occasionally post things there (though I mostly just respond to what other people post . . . and I don't even do that very much) . . . Twitter seems BEYOND stupid to me . . . Though I fully accept that my dismissal of them doesn't stop other people from loving them all . . .

However, the premise that every thought that fleetingly flits through my mind is important enough to post for the entire universe IS an interesting one . . . and by 'interesting' I mean incredibly narcissistic and self absorbed . . . LOL . . .I fully acknowledge that *I* am simply not that fascinating . . . I completely understand and accept that . . .

I am no wiser or more insightful than anybody else . . .

I am not endlessly entertaining . . .

Mea culpa . . .

I AM boring . . .

And having that pointed out to me by someone whose judgment I respect was kind of a relief . . . because it takes that last little bit of performance pressure off of me . . .

This IS essentially for ME . . .

I LIKE to write . . . I NEED to write . . . and for me, writing things down is a very good, very helpful way for me to process what I am thinking and feeling and experiencing . . .

And being told that I am boring is very freeing . . . because NOW I no longer have to wonder and worry if I AM . . . because . . . well . . . I AM . . . .

And knowing that is not fatal . . . It is not even embarrassing . . . It just . . . well . . . IS . . .

And now that I can cast aside my concerns about being (and internal pressure to BE) entertaining and insightful, I think I will like blogging even more . . .



My name is Sue, and I am a boring blogger . . .


=o)

I WRITE, THEREFORE I AM . . .

YAY . . . I finally DID IT!!!!!!

Well . . . to be honest, I haven't DONE anything yet . . . except that I DID sign up for NaNoWriMo . . . which means that this November I will spend the entire month feverishly writing a very bad novel . . . Oh not bad as in NAUGHTY . . . bad as in poorly written and unedited . . .

I have always been intrigued by the premise of NaNoWriMo . . . The organization that encourages and even aids people -- anybody who is at all interested -- in writing 50,000 words in a month. At least I think that is the word count . . . The contest focuses on OUTPUT . . . that is, QUANTITY over QUALITY . . .

You just write and write and WRITE . . . and leave the editing for after the contest is over on November 30th.

It is primarily designed to get you past your internal editor who wants to wait til EVERY single word is absolutely, exquisitely PERFECT before being committed to paper . . . Instead, this contest rewards sheer VOLUME of writing . . . I think it said the equivalent of 5 1/2 typewritten pages per DAY -- EVERY day -- for the entire month . . . but I could be mistaken on that because I have only been to the website once . . . and in my excitement to sign up, I didn't pay much attention to what was required . . .

LOL . . .

OK . . . that bodes ill . . .

But still . . . I am EXCITED about this . . . I LOVE to write . . . absolutely love it . . . and this will MAKE me write, without allowing me to get side tracked into editing and reworking and revamping . . . IMPORTANT things that NEED to be done (at some point) but which are also POWERFUL distractions . . .

I have heard about this for YEARS, but was always too busy with life or school or something to feel like I could actually devote enough time to this to DO it . . . but THIS year, the timing seems perfect . . .

I have really been at loose ends lately . . . trying to figure out some new goals that would motivate me . . . give me a reason to get up in the morning . . . This is the first thing that I have thought of that might work . . .

Oh, I am not complaining . . . I have a good life . . . a VERY good life . . . I love my husband, my children and grandchildren . . . Life IS good . . . but even so, I have felt a nagging restlessness . . . a sense that I needed something to give me a reason to jump out of bed in the mornings, eager to face each new day . . . It isn't like I DREAD that now . . . because I certainly do NOT . . .

I just need something . . . a goal . . . a hobby . . . a passion . . .

And I think just maybe THIS is a start . . .

BABY STEPS . . . BABY STEPS . . .

One of my favorite movies is "What About Bob" with Bill Murray . . . It is an old one . . . and probably not highly significant, but thoroughly enjoyable and delightful (at least to ME) . . . One of the premises of the storyline is that one can make little 'baby steps' of progress towards making changes in one's life . . . or, in the movie, overcoming psychological issues . . .

I like that idea . . .

There are a LOT of changes that would feel absolutely overwhelming if tackled all at once . . . but broken up into little bite sized pieces of progress, ultimately big strides can be made. I know that one cannot cross a chasm in 'baby steps' . . . sometimes a giant leap IS required . . . but still, I like the idea of at least tackling baby steps of progress . . . Usually that is WAY better than no progress at all . . .

Recently, I have been looking at my life and wondering about things I would like very much to change . . . I have been working on several simultaneously . . . and doing pretty well on them, for the most part . . . I AM pleased with the direction I am heading . . .

While watching General Conference in the past week or so (we were out of town for the actual weekend and have been watching the taped sessions to catch up) I was suddenly struck by how well I used to do with daily scripture reading . . . Oh, I was no scriptorian by any means . . . but for years and years I immersed myself in scriptures, at least for a few minutes every single day . . .

I loved the perspective that daily 'exercise' brought into my life, especially when dealing with a wide variety of disappointing and disheartening and discouraging events . . . and not just with the bad stuff . . . Having that time set aside each day to ponder things of an eternal nature put EVERYTHING in a little different perspective . . . It was easier to focus on my children, and trying to be there for them, with the constant reminder of what a sacred trust parenthood is . . . It was easier to deal with money problems . . . relationship issues . . . little humiliations and disappointments . . . AND to avoid taking credit or getting a swelled head when good things happened as well . . . It helped me to be grateful for the events of my life and strengthened my trust that the Lord had a plan for me and my family . . .

Yeah . . . for years and years and YEARS, I had that habit . . . but a few years back, that dwindled . . . Oh I still cherished the scriptures, and their stories and examples and counsel and insights . . . I still thought of them and drew strength from them . . . I still loved being reminded of them while listening to lessons and talks . . . My FEELINGS about the scriptures didn't change . . . just -- for whatever reason -- the priority I gave to reading and pondering them daily . . .

I missed it . . . I REALLY missed it . . .

And so I decided recently that that was something that I needed to begin doing again . . . regularly . . .

I looked at my schedule to try to see when I could most easily and CONSISTENTLY work a few minutes to read in the scriptures into my daily schedule . . .

I quickly decided that late at night didn't really work for me . . . I am TIRED by the time I go to bed, and it is way too easy to fall asleep while reading a NOVEL, let alone something that takes some thought to make sense of . . .

DURING the day was also too iffy . . . My schedule is different every day, and I needed to -- especially right at first when I am reestablishing a habit -- be consistent . . .

I finally decided that even though time is always tight in the mornings, and I already have my alarm set for 4:45 am, that mornings would be the best time to work in regular nuggets of time with the scriptures. I get up to exercise, so I have time to get back home and cool down and shower before I get ready for work or just to face my day . . . but this felt important enough to squeeze it in . . .

So I now stop and take a few minutes to read one chapter in the scriptures before I head out in the pre-dawn darkness to work up a sweat . . .

One chapter a day is not very ambitious, I know that . . . but this is a baby step I can do . . . that I can work in every single day . . . I decided to start in the Book of Mormon first . . . I was torn between that and the New Testament, because those are both my favorites . . . I love how I feel when I read them, especially when I read them consistently and regularly . . . I not only feel closer to my Heavenly Father, but I also feel more . . . how can I say this . . . more AWARE of opportunities to reach out to people around me who might be sad or hurting . . . more aware of stumbling blocks and temptations . . . more thankful for the Lord's hand in my life . . . more resistant to distractions that can make me lose sight of what is most important to me . . .

So mornings, it was . . . and is . . .

I have done this every morning, now, for five mornings . . . hardly a world's record . . . really not impressive at all . . . BUT even so, *I* am well pleased . . . because I have done it every single morning . . . EVEN when I woke up late, and was really rushed . . . EVEN when I woke up with a killer headache . . .

I really want to be faithful in doing this . . .


This is a baby step I CAN do . . . every single day . . . and I WILL . . .

WEEKENDS WERE MADE FOR . . .

This is a lazy weekend . . . We thought we would be having company this weekend -- and were looking forward to that -- but it didn't happen, after all . . .

Funny how some weekends are a whirlwind of activity and some are very low key, very slow paced . . . I think I needed a slow weekend . . . We have had a LOT going on in the past few months . . . maybe even the past few years . . . Sometimes I think I am handling all of it really impressively well . . . and sometimes, I think I am not doing so hot . . .

I heard once that "Life is what happens while you are making other plans" . . . and I think that pretty well sums things up . . .

Oh, don't get me wrong . . . PLANNING is good . . . Having GOALS to work towards is VERY good . . . but in the midst of those, most of us experience detours and roadblocks along the way that we didn't see coming . . .

Sometimes those are the result of our own poor planning . . . We thought that we wanted an end result, only to discover along the way that there was more work involved, a higher cost to that result than we were willing to invest . . . Kind of like someone wanting to learn to play a musical instrument until they realize it takes hours and hours of tedious, daily practice . . . or wanting to be a marathon runner or a size 2, and discovering how much sustained dedication and sacrifice and WORK those goals each take . . .

Oh, sometimes we can find shortcuts . . . or at least we THINK we have found shortcuts . . . but almost always, in the long run, short cuts in life are not much long-term help at all . . . and sometimes even derail the very plans they are meant to assist . . .

The older I get, the more suspicious and leery I am of shortcuts . . . For instance, I would REALLY rather not be operated on by a doctor who took shortcuts in medical school . . . I would rather not be in a plane flown by someone who skimmed through pilot school . . . Like a little kid trying to get out of cleaning the room, who spends hours and hours in elaborate plots to hide toys under drawers and under the beds and in nooks and crannies in the closets . . . being too focused on getting 'there' (wherever 'there' happens to be for you) quicker rarely seems to actually work . . . Oh, short term, sure . . . There are ALWAYS shortcuts available for those on the lookout for them . . .

But long term . . . ? On things that really matter . . . ?

I don't think so . . . no . . .

There are no shortcuts to developing a good, solid and lastingly satisfying relationship . . . there is no 'speed reading' course for being a good, nurturing parent . . . There is no real shortcut to developing one's talents and abilities . . . and the applause of those you can fool, is hollow satisfaction after the first flush of excitement . . .

MOST things worth having in life . . . simply take TIME . . . SUSTAINED time invested over the long haul . . .They have to be a priority . . . not something you work in to the cracks of what you spend most of your time doing . . .

So . . . maybe a long, quiet weekend spent evaluating where I am headed and what it is I want in the years ahead is NOT a lazy way to spend a couple of days, but instead precious time spent in valuable self contemplation . . .

Something to think about . . . huh . . . ?

BLAH . . . BLAH . . . BLAH-GGING . . .

Today is just a totally BLAH day . . .

It is weird how some days are so energized and productive and some just . . . are . . . NOT . . . And it has little to do with how I feel physically . . . or even emotionally (or spiritually) . . . It has little to do with what NEEDS to be done . . . There is no rhyme or reason to a 'blah' day . . . They just sort of sneak up and sandbag you . . .


WHOMPH . . . and you are down for the count . . .

I have no idea why today is a blah day . . . I got a lot done this morning (though somehow it never really FEELS like a productive day when I stay in my jammies til noon . . . only because I wasn't leaving the house yet) . . . I cleaned and organized my desk top (which will last about thirty seconds) . . . I cleaned out toys that had been accumulating other places besides the toy chest (they sort of migrate towards the tub little M bathes in and the bedroom where he sleeps when he spends the night) . . . so now the little car/truck/vehicle drawer is full again . . . as is the animal drawer (which had been missing several KEY godzilla-type creatures . . . and the most ferocious and blood thirsty of all the 'people' we have here at gramma's house have all been returned and neatly catagorized into the proper drawer . . . YAY . . .

Then I spent several hours going over our bills and my MIL's bills . . . organizing them and writing out checks, etc . . . The ORGANIZING takes a lot longer than the actual PAYING . . . but I did it all . . .

so I cannot actually say I got NOTHING done today . . .

Still, despite all those things, it FEELS like a 'I got nothing done today' kinda day . . .



I hate that feeling . . .


Maybe it is because I was such a master at getting out of chores when I was a kid and smack dab in the middle of the 'hardest working kids on the block' . . . I was SO proud of that designation . . . though I am not exactly sure WHY, since all MY efforts and not-inconsiderable skills went into AVOIDING actually DOING any of the work we were so well known for . . .

Perhaps that is the curse of being the clever daughter of a very hard working mama . . . Yeah, short term, *I* won . . . I DID get out of a lot of the family work details . . . (did I mention that I had SKILLS?!?!??) However, LONG term, I didn't win at all . . . because I am haunted with this vague sense of guilt at being SO good at getting out of work, that I was not LIKE my adored mom . . .


Soooooooooo . . . now . . . years and years and YEARS down the road . . . I still have this vague, unsettled, uneasiness DEEP down inside that secretly I am flat out LAZY . . .



UGH . . . I don't WANT to be lazy . . . and I honestly do not think that I AM . . . but . . . I have this teensy little sneaking suspicion that maybe . . . just MAYBE . . . DEEP down inside . . . I AM . . .




And IF I am . . . my mom would NOT be proud of me . . . =o/


SEE?!?




THAT is the curse of being the too-smart-for-her-own-good daughter of a hard-working mom . . . SIGH . . .



I know that she LOVED me . . . but was she PROUD of me?!?

SO . . . BITE ME . . .

Okay . . . trying to post every other day was a GOAL . . . It is not carved in stone anywhere . . . I went out of town over the weekend to attend a very special. dearly loved little boy's birthday celebration . . . That was more important than blogging . . .

I am a teensy bit disappointed that I have already messed up, but when we got back, I was too tired to think about blogging . . . then Monday was a BUSY day with work and getting caught up on everything that I let slide for those days I was gone . . . So the first chance I really got, I did blog again . . .

SIGH . . .

I am trying . . . at least I am trying . . .




I have decided that my blog would be considerably more interesting if I was visiting cool castles regularly . . . or had adorable toddlers to show off . . .

HANGIN' IN THERE . . .

Yesterday at work, I was talking to a couple of trainee-tutors (who are currently taking the class to become tutors). They shadow/observe us for a week or two and then slowly begin taking over some of the tutoring, while being watched and evaluated. It is a helpful process, (to see an experienced tutor 'in action') and I still remember going through it myself, maybe six or seven years ago.

I clearly remember wondering how on earth I would handle questions or requests for help for things I had no clue about . . . and watched in awe as the established tutors then, seemed to handle EVERYTHING with skill and seemingly endless knowledge . . .and while there are still things that I am not the best resource for, almost everything else I have dealt with so often, that even if I am rusty on that skill, I can look it up quickly and easily and help someone who is struggling grasp a concept better . . .

I absolutely LOVE this job.

Oh it is just part time, and while at first we pretty much got to work as many hours as we were able or willing, every semester, the hours are cut more and more . . . The state budget crisis is draining the school's coffers, which is such a shame. At a time when the economy is SO bad, more and more people are returning to college to sharpen job skills (or develop new ones) and with the funding cuts, there are fewer and fewer classes available . . . Even the professors are getting fewer classes to teach . . .

Anyhow, it is VERY part time and doesn't pay very well (we all took big pay cuts a year or two ago), so its not like it would ever allow me to be self supporting, if that need arose . . . It isn't really a 'career' choice . . . but . . . I LOVE what I do . . . I like the variety of working with a HUGE array of writing/English issues . . . varying skill levels . . . and the puzzle of trying to figure out how to help THIS person master THAT skill . . . I like working with people, and this job is a delight . . .

It is also going away . . .

This will be my last semester to do this . . . It was supposed to go away at the end of May, when the state did away with the job classification of 'part time classified' employees . . . but at the last minute a few of us got a reprieve, when a temporary loophole was found . . . so I could work Summer and now Fall semesters . . .

I knew the reprieve was temporary . . . and I was just grateful to be able to keep doing what I loved a little longer . . . I know this isn't personal . . . They aren't TRYING to get rid of me . . . but still . . . I am sad . . .

The entire time I have worked as a tutor at the college, I have absolutely LOVED going to work every day . . . even when things were slow (and there are a few slow periods every semester) there was plenty that I could do, so I can honestly say that the number of times that the time has dragged for me in this job I could count on one hand . . . I love working with a wide variety of people . . . I love the endless variety of problems I encounter . . . I love the air of 'adventure' because until a person sits down next to me and says "I need help with [blah blah blah] I really have NO inkling of what the session will involve . . . and I even love helping someone figure out what their problem areas are if they are not already aware of their weaknesses . . . Best of all is when you can SEE the lights come on in someone's eyes and they finally GET it . . . When something which has baffled and frustrated them, no longer does, and they look hopeful and sometimes even excited about the task ahead of them . . .

I absolutely LOVE that . . .

And yesterday, in the midst of a VERY busy day, one of the tutor-trainees suddenly asked, "Is it true that from here on out that all tutors will be student tutors?" and I answered, "Yes . . . that IS true." And when he followed that up with, "So what will happen to you?" and I had to say, "I will be looking for a new job after this semester" . . . I, all of the sudden, (though this is certainly not a new thought and I have no illusions about another loophole being found) was just SAD at the thought that this is going away . . .



SIGH . . .



Then at MY age . . . in THIS economy . . . I get to start job hunting again . . .



That thought truly IS rather daunting . . .

TMI

I have been doing a lot of thinking about why I drag my feet with blogging . . . I mean, the idea really appeals to me . . . and like I have said many times, I absolutely LOVE to write . . . I find the experience of trying to find precisely the right words to translate an observation or insight or experience or feeling into words to be DEEPLY satisfying . . . sometimes frustrating, sometimes tortuous, but even then, it is exquisitely satisfying -- almost nurturing -- at the same time . . .

As corny as it sounds, I can almost feel myself growing in the exercise . . .

I know that part of it is simply trying to decide WHAT to share . . . Since the people who stop by here (LOL both of you) are people that I know in real life, that limits in some ways what I can share . . . observations about people need to be tempered with the knowledge that those of you reading might know who it is I am describing or discussing . . . and even if that observation is not mean spirited, people do not necessarily like being dissected in that manner . . . As much as I love people watching, I have no wish to make the people that I love uncomfortable on any level . . . so sometimes there are things I would like to discuss, and for which blogging seems like a perfect medium, which I pass on . . . just in case someone would be hurt, offended or feel exposed or uncomfortable . . .

To me, that is simply a part of being involved in a network of interwoven lives . . . in my neighborhood, at work, at church, and most particularly with people that I love dearly . . . my extended family. I may very well be able to see your flaws and inconsistencies and missteps . . . (that is the ROYAL 'you', not anyone in particular) but since I love you, that means that even so I am deeply protective of you . . . I have your back, in a very real sense . . . I think that is what being in a relationship (ANY relationship) means . . .

So there are things I will not discuss here . . . because of the love and respect I have for people who may either read it or hear about it second hand . . .

There are also some experiences . . . some feelings . . . some insights that are perhaps too . . . hmmmmmmm . . . too TENDER . . . for lack of a better word . . . to share here . . .

I am having a difficult time even putting this thought into words . . .

It isn't that I am so fragile that the possibility that someone might not agree with what I wrote would upset me . . . because it wouldn't. I am what I am, and my faith is a huge part of who I am. That was (and continues to be) a deliberate, carefully thought out CHOICE . . . I do not need someone else's agreement or support to validate my beliefs or feelings . . . I am simply not that fragile . . . I have no intention of living my life or choosing my beliefs by 'majority rule' . . .

Even so . . . the thought of sharing some really intimate feelings -- especially those involving my spirituality -- is daunting . . . on a level that I can't quite put my finger on . . .

Perhaps the best way to put it into words is to share an analogy . . .

You know how people love to visit and take pictures of Amish communities? I imagine that desire is based on curiosity and is rarely mean spirited at all . . . It is a chance to step outside the modern world for a moment with its busy deadlines and frantic activities and catch a glimpse of a gentler, simpler time . . . One could be genuinely charmed by their quaint customs and manner of dress and work without feeling the slightest twinge of amusement or criticism . . . but at the same time, the very act of thinking "awwwww . . . how quaint/sweet/charming/refreshing/whatever" means that the observer IS taking a step back and objectifying the watched . . . When we do that (and we all do it) it is very easy to lose sight of the fact that those are REAL people . . . with REAL dreams, REAL lives, REAL families, REAL feelings, REAL concerns . . . AND that their being there in that place and time involved a very real choice . . . simply reducing them to a quaint, charming tourist attraction IS on some level disrespectful, even if it is not meant to be so . . .

I guess I point out that example out as a way of acknowledging that sometimes my 'blogging block' is simply my growing awareness that perhaps there are some things which are too tender (again, for lack of a better word) to share in a blog and hold up to that kind of casual curiosity and scrutiny . . .

I just need to find a balance that I can be comfortable with . . .

AHEM . . . ANOTHER NEW LEAF . . .

Okay . . . I admit it . . .

I really suck at blogging . . .

I LOVE to write . . . and I have things I want to say or share . . . but even with all that going for me . . . I never seem to get it together enough to actually BLOG . . .

I just noticed that my last entry was an entire month ago . . . WOW . . . That is absolutely PATHETIC for someone who LIKES to write . . .

I intend to do better . . . I WILL do better . . .

Oh, not because anything I say here is IMPORTANT . . . simply because the exercise of writing and pinning down my thoughts with words is good discipline . . .

I am going to commit to writing every other day minimum . . . even if what I write is boring as all get out . . . I simply think that making a commitment will make it happen where vague protests that I INTEND to write never will . . .

I have no illusions that I am an interesting enough person to write deep, profound, insightful things every other day . . . but I AM a keen observer, and if nothing else I can share some of my observations about human nature or perhaps just MY all-too-human nature . . .

But write, I will . . .

I promise . . .

SMELLS LIKE HEAVEN . . .

My house smells SOOOoooOOOOO good right now!

I woke up this morning with the STRONGEST desire to bake bread . . . Just out of the blue . . . I did not let the fact that it is AUGUST . . . or that I live in the DESERT . . . or that we are in the midst of a HEAT WAVE deter me . . . I wanted to bake bread, so I DID . . .

I used to make it all the time . . . at least once a week, sometimes more often. I had a big family of five children (four of those boys) and it was a good way to fill up hollow legs and not break the bank on groceries. Now my house is emptier, and my recipe still makes five large loaves . . . but I still just wanted to make it . . .

I wanted to sift the ingredients together . . . I wanted to watch the yeast concoction begin bubbling . . . I wanted to knead the dough and then shape it into loaves . . . I wanted the ENTIRE experience, not just the yummy end result . . .

I am not sure why, exactly, but baking homemade bread from scratch is a SOUL satisfying experience, from start to finish. It goes WAY beyond simply making my house smell delicious or provide food for my family and friends . . . I think it makes me feel connected on some deep spiritual level with my mother whom I absolutely adored (who baked bread) and her mom (whom I also adored and who also baked bread) and my pioneer ancestors (who also baked bread) . . .

Baking like this makes me feel . . . very feminine and womanly and homemakerish . . . WAY out of proportion to the effort involved or the yumminess of the bread itself. I mean, there is nothing about making bread that a man couldn't do, so I don't know why it makes me feel SO feminine, but it absolutely does, in the same way that sewing does, or cleaning my house til it GLOWS does. LOL . . . I know MANY women who have no interest in making bread OR sewing OR house cleaning . . . but even though those are not my favorite activities (except maybe sewing) I DO love how I feel while I am doing them . . .

Oh yeah . . . and I LOVE that when I bake bread, my house smells JUST like heaven . . . (I am SURE of it!) =o)

AUDIENCE OF SELF . . .

I was watching a show this weekend, something we had tivo'd, and it had this quote on the voiceover which really stuck in my mind. I don't even remember what show it was, though it might have been Criminal Minds which often ends with a quotation . . . Anyhow, wherever I heard it, the quote went something like "It is better to write for an audience of self and have no public, than to write for the public and have no self" . . . HMMMM . . . That is not quite right, but it was something like that . . .

It struck me as pretty profound . . . AND it also reiterated what -- for ME -- is the vital part of blogging. I have read quite a few blogs over the years . . . Sometimes I blog hop and just read the blogs of total strangers . . . I read them to see things from others points of view and perspectives . . . to sample writing styles . . . to see the world -- at least temporarily -- through the spectacles of someone else's life experiences . . .

It is a very interesting experience . . . and sometimes I laugh out loud . . . sometimes I find what I read to be disturbing or offensive . . . sometimes I learn things . . . sometimes I am entertained . . . sometimes I am impressed . . . sometimes I am deeply touched . . . sometimes I am in awe of someone's ability to skewer a particular feeling or experience SO perfectly that it absolutely takes my breath away . . .

Words are (or can be) POWERFUL . . . and the written word is (or can be) an incredibly powerful medium . . .

Still, for ME . . . when I try to do anything other than simply capture my life experiences, my thoughts, my feelings as accurately and authentically as I can . . . I get kind of an awkward stupor of thought and I get all bogged down . . . It simply sucks all the satisfaction and joy of writing out of the experience. I have no idea WHY it is like that for me . . .

I mean, I am at least an adequate writer . . . I know where to put the commas . . . I know how to transition between paragraphs and ideas . . . I know one needs a topic sentence . . . etc . . . I know the mechanics of writing fairly well (and yes, I even know that I use -- when blogging -- WAY too many ellipsis . . . so bite me) =oP

I can, in other forums, write in a way that is at least mildly entertaining . . . and yet with BLOGGING . . . I get a very distinctive writer's block if I try too hard to write TO an audience . . . I thoroughly enjoy reading blogs that are funny or informative or persuasive (well . . . sometimes . . . if the person is too heavy handed with their 'persuasions' I am left cold) . . . I enjoy blogs that are written from MANY motivations . . . but if *I* try to write (again, this only applies to BLOGGING) for any other reason that to simply try my inadequate best to share my feelings and perceptions and observations and life experiences as authentically as possible, *I* get tongue tied and the writing becomes a total CHORE . . . It absolutely sucks ALL the satisfaction and fun, even joy, out of the experience . . .

So . . . I think I am beginning to truly understand that I blog for ME . . . for my audience of 'self' . . . and I am okay with that . . .

PRAYERFULLY YOURS . . .

I know that not everyone ascribes to a faith . . .

Many of my friends have a variety of belief systems, and some have none at all . . . But since this is MY blog . . . and I have it to share what is in MY head and heart . . . sometimes I choose to talk about some aspect of my faith . . .

I am a Mormon . . . a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. My faith is a huge part of who and what I am, and I am grateful for what my beliefs add to my life, my family relationships, my dreams, my hopes and even my struggles . . .

One of the key elements of my faith is that I believe with all my heart that there IS, indeed, a God and that He is my Heavenly Father . . . that He loves me and that He has a plan for my life, and for the lives of those I love (and even for the lives of those I am annoyed by, to be honest).

My life is not perfect . . . no more perfect than anybody else's . . . and I struggle at times to make sense of the world and the events that transpire around me. My heart aches for the unanswered questions . . . the things that don't seem to make sense . . . the times that bad things -- sometimes very bad things -- happen to good people . . . especially if they happen to good people that I care about.

And happen, they do . . .

Anyone who thinks that only good things should (or will) happen to good people who are simply trying to live their lives and not harm anyone . . . and that bad things should (or will) only happen to bad, selfish, calloused people is either very young or refuses to face reality . . . The fact is that ALL of us -- good AND bad -- have triumphs and joys and accomplishments AND heartaches and setbacks and sorrows . . .

So looking around to see who 'deserves' what is going on is bound to be an exercise in frustration and bafflement, and often outright pain . . .

I mean, lets face it . . . EACH of us is imperfect enough and has said and/or done enough stupid, shortsighted, hurtful things that if someone is looking for a 'reason' for bad things happening, there is going to be PLENTY of ammunition to pin it on . . . But those moments of 'ohhhhh . . . THAT is why this is happening to her/him/them' only serve to deepen one's pain when very bad things happen to YOU . . . things you don't feel like you deserve and which are absolutely devastating . . .

I think that the truth is that while some of what we struggle with may very well be natural consequences of our choices and priorities (IE, if I spend money I do not have, I WILL have to deal with bounced checks and/or angry creditors . . . if I treat family members with disrespect and disregard their feelings, I WILL have to deal with growing feelings of dissatisfaction and unrest in my home). . . but beyond that, I suspect that MOST of what happens to us is simply LIFE . . . Our mortal experiences are filled with other imperfect human beings who can be selfish and hurtful . . . random life experiences that often seem to happen at the WORST possible moments . . . setbacks and disappointments that are devastating. I, personally, do not believe that God orchestrates it all . . . sends bad experiences to everybody who displeases Him and good to those who do . . .

Oh, I DO believe that blessings come from obedience . . . I absolutely believe that. However, I think that with our limited, mortal points of view, that many of what we tend to view as 'good' things are, in fact, some of our most difficult trials . . . and what we tend to view as 'bad' are some of our greatest blessings . . .

Let me explain . . . Perhaps because I am older, I have seen MANY examples of happenings/events that were welcomed excitedly with open arms . . . new opportunities, lucrative 'rewards', which ultimately led people and families to fracture and crumble . . . One easy example of this is the lottery (something which because of my belief system, I have never even played). To someone who struggles to pay their bills each month . . . winning the lottery seems like SUCH a blessing . . . a dream come true, for sure! Who among us has NEVER pondered what they would do with huge winnings like those offered?!? Bills paid, dream homes built, no financial worries at ALL . . . And yet, historically, those who DO win those kinds of things, often find themselves -- not all that far down the road -- not only in WORSE financial shape, but also admit that it was the catalyst that ended up destroying their families. I am intrigued by the number of people who end up admitting that they would give anything to have their old lives back, problems and all, when it is way too late for a 'do over' . . .

In much the same way, I have also lived long enough to see that many of what we quickly label as 'trials' to be blessings in disguise. Financial setbacks . . . job losses or changes . . . troubling health issues . . . EASILY labeled as horrible, awful things, and yet the growth that comes from facing, dealing with, working through and overcoming those 'opportunities' ends up being something that is life changing in almost miraculous ways . . . opening new doors, new awarenesses, new levels of compassion one never even knew existed . . .

Still . . . despite that, we (and that includes ME) DO tend to struggle at crossroads which are not of our own choosing . . . We are resistant to being invited to grow in new ways, learn new things, step out of our comfort zones . . . and this is as true of ME as anyone else . . .

So . . . here we stand at a crossroads . . . One which is overwhelming and scary and potentially devastating . . .

I freely admit that I am afraid . . . and yet . . .

I know -- with everything in me -- that we are not facing it alone . . . I know that the Lord is mindful of us . . . I know that He will walk through this journey with us . . . AND I know that we can trust Him . . .

I also know -- with all my heart -- that whatever happens, will ultimately be okay . . . even if getting there takes us through some thorny paths . . .



Today I am fasting for him . . . for me . . . for US . . . That we can pull together through this scary trial . . . That we will be able to feel the guidance of the Lord through the current and upcoming events, whatever they may be . . . That we wont waver from the path we have carefully and prayerfully chosen, and which we KNOW is right . . .

And that through it all . . . We will be able to feel HOPE . . . and not give in to despair . . .


Because, bottom line . . . isn't THAT what faith is all about?