Reflections and Resolutions...Revised

It's that time...

Eh, I've reflected plenty over the last few weeks, and now, it's time to think about what I intend to do with myself over the next year.

Well, alright, one little reflection.

My resolution last year was to "calm the hell down".

Let's see how that went.

Here's last year, with WG gone to Oklahoma: Whining.

Here's this year:...

That's right, not one single whining post about WG being away...and that's not just so I could say that here. It's because I haven't been whining about it. I've tremendously enjoyed the last week - time with my family, Wii playing with high school friends, movie watching and grand conversation with Renie, tea drinking with Jessica, art museum-ing with friends from work....ahhh...good stuff. Nothing to calm down about :).

So, based on that example alone, I think I can say that "calming the hell down" was a great success.

Now, onto 2008. I have a bit more than one resolution, and after a good night's sleep, I've got these worded just a bit better.

1) Do something or go somewhere new once a month.
2) Be creative.
3) Stop giving myself guilt trips.
4) Pursue a new job.
5) Don't try to hurry life along.

I'm most excited (and scared) about the job search...and I'll write more about each of these resolutions as I come to understand them better myself.

So, goodbye to 2007 (a good year, overall). Welcome 2008...just around the corner.

So Much

There was no Real World Wednesday yesterday. There were games to play, computers to fix, parents to talk to and Celtics to watch...it will return in full force next week.

Have you ever woken up and suddenly realized how incredibly lucky you are? Sure it might be too cold to even consider leaving the safety of your bed. Or maybe you are irritated with your job. Or you have some other problem.

It's not waking up and realizing that your life is perfect.

It's waking up and realizing what a blessed life you have.

Christmas eve, I awoke early to take WG to the airport (and when I say early, I mean 3:15 a.m.), but I awoke that early after spending the previous day going to church with my boyfriend, playing with a Christmas gift I never imagined he would get me (though I'll admit to fantasizing about getting my beautiful little wii...), visiting with George and Bonnie at the fourth annual festivus (thanks for the yummy tri-tip and the oodles of fun brought courtesy of Apples to Apples. I spent much of the night curled snuggly beside WG. He held on quite tightly, as it occurred to him that he wouldn't see me again for a week. Even in the middle of the night, as I bounced out of bed with a somewhat distubring amount of perkiness, I felt incredibly blessed to have WG in my life, and I spent much of my morning conversation with God thanking him for bringing us together.

Christmas Day, I awoke, as I have every morning since I can remember, to a house filled with love, presents (far too many for any one of us) and my parents. We had our truly traditional morning of cinnamon rolls, opening each gift one by one, a few tears shed in gratitude (though not by me...I'm a cold, cold girl, haha) and then a return to warm beds for a morning nap.

Yesterday, I awoke knowing I would spend the morning helping my mom pick out a new laptop (hers has been driving her mad almost since purchase) and otherwise driving around and having wonderful conversations.

Before I went to sleep last night, I did my little Bible study and read a bit in the book my mom recently purchased for both of us, Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World. I'd recommend something like this even for those of you who celebrate something other than Christianity.

In a nutshell, this book is about dropping some of the clutter in life. The title is based on the Mary and Martha story in the Bible. Jesus and His boys show up at the house of Mary, Martha and Lazarus. Martha throws a hissy fit and starts running around preparing a feast, while Mary sits at the feet of Jesus and simply listens to Him talk. Martha complains that her sister isn't helping with the preparations, and Jesus says, "Mary has chosen the better part." In other words, it's more important to sit and BE with Christ, with your guest, with your family and friends, than to run around proving that you know how to prepare a meal.

I am the queen of running around making sure everyone has enough to eat, enough to drink, that the oven's off (okay, that one's important) and otherwise making my guests feel like they've come over to watch me run around my apartment and not to sit and enjoy an evening together.

The gist of all of this? In the next few days, as I contemplate my resolutions for 2008, I will think about priorities. I will consider whether it matters that I prepare a fancy meal for family or that I simply get to spend an evening with them. I will contemplate all of the priorities in my life and adjust accordingly :).

It's hard for me to express, here or elsewhere, how truly honored I feel to be loved by the people who love me. This year, I have received the best gift of all and that's the feeling of being loved and loving in return.

12 Days of Christmas

I'm not sure I get 12 full days of Christmas, but I do get several "Christmas" sort of days.

1) A pre-Christmas with WG before he heads off the icy weather in the corral. The pre-Christmas was quite fun. We exchanged gifts, had yummy steak dinner...and now...well, though I'll miss him, it'll be a bit easier for me to handle it, now that I have one these. I do have the best boyfriend ever. And I told him so. Yes, I am exceedingly excited about this present. Yes, I am 27. Ah well, such is life.

2) Three full days of Christmas wonder with Mama and Daddy. Movie watching, game playing, a little bowling, a fine meal. I'm excited.

3) Monica and Sean arriving for our eleventh annual Christmas extravaganza. There will be a potluck. We will "do presents." And we will talk fondly about the past and with curiosity about the future.

I love the holidays. I love being surrounded by the ones I love, filling my days with tradition...oh...and singing Christmas carols at the top of my lungs.

Merry Christmas! May you spend time with the ones you love, not have to go to work and, quite simply, be happy.

Christmas Tunes to Soothe the Soul

So, this list felt a lot different before I found out (about twenty minutes ago) that WG doesn't get home from his visit to the corral until 11 p.m. on New Year's Eve. Suckage. He leaves at 6 a.m. on Christmas Eve, so I'll be bleary eyed when I say goodbye, and I don't *actually* get him back for New Year's Eve. Suckage.

Anywho, I still want everyone to have a wonderful holiday (and I fully intend to still have one myself).

So, here's to a fantastically superb Christmas for one and all.

1) Bing Crosby - Mele Kalikimaka

Mele Kalikimaka is the thing to say on a bright Hawaiian Christmas Day
That's the island greeting that we send to you from the land where palm trees sway
Here we know that Christmas will be green and bright
The sun to shine by day and all the stars at night
Mele Kalikimaka is Hawaii's way to say Merry Christmas to you

The Andrew Sisters:
Mele Kalikimaka is the thing to say on a bright Hawian Christmas day
That's the island greeting that we send to you from the land where palm trees sway
Here we know that Christmas will be green and bright
The sun to shine by day and all the stars at night
Mele Kalikimaka is Hawaii's way to say Merry Christmas to you

The Andrew Sister's and Bing Crosby:
Here we know that Christmas will be green and bright
The sun to shine by day and all the stars at night
Mele Kalikimaka is Hawaii's way to say Merry Christmas to you

Mele Kalikimaka is the thing to say on a bright Hawaiian Christmas Day
Thats the island greeting that we send to you from the land where palm trees sway
Here we know that Christmas will be green and bright
The sun to shine by day and all the stars at night
Mele Kalikimaka is Hawaii's way to say Merry Christmas a
very merry Christmas , a very, very, merry,merry Christmas to youuuuuuuuuu

2) Eartha Kitt - Santa Baby

Buh-bum.. buh-bum...
Santa baby, just slip a sable under the tree, for me
Been an awful good girl
Santa baby so hurry down the chimney tonight

Santa baby, a '54 convertible too, light blue,
I'll wait up for you dear
Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight

Think of all the fun I've missed,
Think of all the fellows that I haven't kissed
Next year I could be just as good
If you check off my christmas list

Santa baby, I want a yacht and really thats not a lot
Been an angel all year
Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight

Santa honey, one little thing I really need, the deed
To a platinum mine,
Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight

Santa cutie, and fill my stocking with a duplex and cheques,
Sign your x on the line
Santa cutie, and hurry down the chimney tonight

Come and trim my chirstmas tree,
With some decorations bought at Tiffany's
I really do believe in you,
Let's see if you believe in me

Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing, a ring,
I don't mean on the phone,
Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight

Hurry down the chimney tonight
Hurry, tonight.

3) Away in a Manger

Away in a manger,
no crib for His bed,
The little Lord Jesus
lay down his sweet head.
The stars in the sky
looked down where He lay
The little Lord Jesus,
asleep on the hay.

The cattle are lowing,
the poor Baby wakes,
But little Lord Jesus,
no crying He makes;
I love Thee, Lord Jesus,
look down from the sky
And stay by my cradle
till morning is nigh.

Be near me, Lord Jesus,
I ask Thee to stay,
Close by me forever,
and love me, I pray!
Bless all the dear children
in Thy tender care
And take us to heaven,
to Live with Thee there.

4) O Holy Night

O Holy night, the stars are brightly shining
It is the night of our dear Savior's birth
Long lay the world in sin and error pining
Til He appeared and the soul felt it's worth
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoyces
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn
Fall on your knees

O hear the angel voices
O night divine!
O night when Christ was born
O night divine!
O night, O night divine!

And in His Name, all oppression shall cease
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we
Let all within us praise his holy name
Christ is the Lord!
Their name forever praise we

Noel, Noel
O night, O night Divine
Noel, Noel
O night, O night Divine
Noel, Noel
O night, O holy Divine

5) Amy Grant - Breath of Heaven

I have traveled many moonless nights,
Cold and weary with a babe inside,
And I wonder what I've done.
Holy father you have come,
And chosen me now to carry your son.

I am waiting in a silent prayer.
I am frightened by the load I bear.
In a world as cold as stone,
Must I walk this path alone?
Be with me now.
Be with me now.

Breath of heaven,
Hold me together,
Be forever near me,
Breath of heaven.
Breath of heaven,
Lighten my darkness,
Pour over me your holiness,
For you are holy.
Breath of heaven.

Do you wonder as you watch my face,
If a wiser one should have had my place,
But I offer all I am

For the mercy of your plan.
Help me be strong.
Help me be.
Help me.

Breath of heaven,
Hold me together,
Be forever near me,
Breath of heaven.
Breath of heaven,
Lighten my darkness,
Pour over me your holiness,
For you are holy.

Breath of heaven,
Hold me together,
Be forever near me,
Breath of heaven.
Breath of heaven,
Lighten my darkness,
Pour over me your holiness,
For you are holy.
Breath of heaven.
Breath of heaven.
Breath of heaven.

Run

I've run off and on for my entire life. Every once in a while, I'll get a bug up my butt to really start running again. There was a time when my dad and I ran every Sunday morning. That lasted about two months, until got cold, and then we just fell out of the habit.

My dad is a great runner. He's smooth. He has a good rhythm (I can't even spell rhythm without looking it up). He ran track in high school and actually got at least one scholarship offer out of it. He's long and lean. His only weaknesses are his knees an ankles (great weaknesses for a runner to have), and seeing as I am built exactly like him, except in a prettier, more feminine version, of course, those weaknesses are mine, as well. Even with these pre-determined weaknesses, I still have plenty of evidence to prove that I'm genetically programmed to be a good runner.

Throughout junior high school, I dreamed of the day I could join the swim team. See, though I know I CAN run, I don't really like to sweat in front of large groups of people. And I love to swim.

So, swim I did. Of course, we had to run and lift weights for about a month before we ever touched the pool. When I hit the water, it felt like home. No, I was never the strongest or the fastest, but the feel of the water against my body as I swam soothed me. And, in that heavily chlorinated, over-crowded, outdoor pool, I was graceful.

How I loved swim meets. My body ached for the feeling of getting out of the water and my legs crumbling beneath me. Only then would I know I'd swum my very best.

The smell of chlorine in my hair and on my clothes grew tiring, though, and when I started college, I tucked my TYR suit away in the back of a drawer and concentrated on other things. I'd jog around the hills of Berkeley every once in a while, but I didn't seriously commit to another fitness routine until my junior year. One of my friends (and eventual roommate) and I signed up for inter-mural soccer. We played on a team of mostly Freshmen, but I enjoyed getting out on the soccer field, running around playing defense. Our games were at 9 p.m., and the season started in February. After each game, I would run my hands under warm, then hot water, to bring back the feeling.

It's clear that what I enjoy most about sports is that feeling of complete and utter exhaustion, knowing that I've pushed my body as far as I can.

So, let's fast forward five years. I've kept up with my workouts. I do weights one or two times a week. I'm a huge fan of the elliptical machine, and when I'm feeling lazy, I'll peddle on a stationary bike and read a book.

I'd grown bored with my workouts in the past couple of months, though. They had no focus, no goal. It has taken five years, but I'm ready for some real motivation.

Even though I haven't been in a swim meet in nearly a decade, I still love to watch swimmers on the Olympics and read about those who do amazing things. So, I picked up both Dover Solo by Marcia Cleveland and Swimming to Antarctica by Lynne Cox.

Dover Solo captured my attention more than Swimming to Antarctica, because in the latter, the author had been a life-long competitive swimmer, a life-long over-achiever who spent several hours a day in the pool. While I admire her stamina, I also recognize in her the characteristics of those swimmers who got all the attention in high school. They'd beeing swimming their entire lives and no one questioned that they would take the lead in the important races. I also see in her a devotion to a singular goal that will never be my own.

Marcia Cleveland, on the other hand, decided to swim the English Channel and began to train. She told of swimming that would never be graceful. She told of shoulders rubbed raw by bathing suits, of coating herself in lotion or vaseline or anything that would keep in a layer of warmth. She had swum before, but never at this level, unlike Lynne Cox, who swam the English Channel sometime in her mid-teens.

In any case, both books got under my skin. I never considered training for long-distance, open-water swims. I treasure smooth skin and warmth far too much to see what happens if I submerge myself in 45 degree water for 24 hours.

So, completing a 5k is my current goal. I don't know if I'll ever have the gumption (or the patience) to train for a marathon, but a half-marathon might be somewhere in my future. The roommate and friend I played soccer with has run more than one half-marathon, so I know that people in the real world (not just random, crazy marathon runners) can do it.

I started "training" a few weeks ago, when I could run for about 15 minutes at a stretch. I'd love to get to a 10 minute pace for the entire 3 miles, and I am trying to get their gradually. My 40 minute workout includes a 5 minute walk at 15:00/mile, a mile at an average speed of 12:45, a mile at 11:32, a sprint at about 10 minutes and a cool-down walk for 5 minutes at 14:30/mile. I vary the slope on the treadmill. The running gets me 2.5 miles and change in 30 minutes, but it's far from smooth and certainly not graceful.

It's sweaty. Honestly, my hair was dripping sweat this morning. There are grunts involved. My legs ache.

And it's just what I've been missing.

Real World Wednesday

I Want to Be the 85 Year Old Woman Who Brings Flowers to the Library, Don't You?

"How old are you? Are you a senior? In high school?"

"Now stop that, she's a grown woman! With a job! And two college degrees!"

"Well, I can't help it, some people just take good care of themselves."

The above is a real conversation had between two teen girls at my library, one a volunteer, the other a regular at library events. And they were talking about...me. Right in front of me, in fact.

And their conversation got me thinking about what it takes to stay healthy and oh, attractive, I suppose, throughout our lifetimes. I work with the public, and I've seen all shades of people who, for whatever reason, have not taken good care of themselves. Maybe they lived in a war torn country and had no access to milk, and so, their teeth and bones are brittle (it's the excuse my grandma used...). Or, maybe they never thought about the future when they were young, assumed they'd be bright, bold and beautiful forever and now face the consequences.

Each day, I see someone who makes me want to run home and floss, someone who makes me roll my shoulders back and stand up straight and others who, with a positive outlook on life, who inspire me to take care of myself so that I will be a totally rockin' old lady that everyone wants to see each day.

Sure, I've talked about getting yourself to the OB/GYN (and yes, I finally went. and yes, I'm nice and healthy). And, I've covered Stress Management. But, what else can you do to ensure that you mature into a healthy, "well-kept" indvididual?

1) Get to what Glamour Magazine calls your happy weight. This could involve losing OR gaining weight, depending on you. Your happy weight will improve not only your physical health but also your emotional well-being.

2) Take care of your teeth.

3) Get enough calcium (women especially!).

4) Keep hydrated

5) Use your brain.Done with school? Ah, take a moment to enjoy getting that degree (whether it be a BA, a Ph.D. or whatnot). Now, get back on that horse and keep using your brain. Get a brain busting hobby (hey, why not give Scrabulous a try...also available on Facebook).

6) Exercise. I don't need a link for this one. You all know it's true. Get out from in front of the computer, take a walk, run up and down the stairs, turn on the music Ally McBeal (or Meridith Gray)style. Get your blood pumping and your muscles moving.

7)Sleep.

8) Socialize. Whether your log-in to talk to your friends online, or get out and join a club. Just interacting with other people increases endorphines, improves your attitude and is good for you (not that you don't need your alone time, as well).

9) Stand up straight. I just had to throw that one in there. And don't just straighten up when you see an older person with a hunch on their back. Do it now. Do it often.

10) Listen to your body. Are you knees hurting after running a lot over the past couple of weeks? Unless you are a professional athlete, you have nothing depending on you getting up and running. So, try a different exercise. Swimming, perhaps. Get enough sleep. If you're feeling frazzled, say no to a couple of things. All in all, just listen to what your body is telling you instead of forcing it to work through the kind of pain that is a signal for you to...STOP.

Notice that none of these tips include "put lotion on your face at night" or "use - insert name brand here - soap to wash your face." Everyone's different when it comes to skin care. I wash my face only with water, but I load up on the different topical solutions my dermatologist has provided (and my skin looks better than it has in years), but I know someone who puts olive oil on her face and, should she have a bit of a break out, uses rubbing alcohol (the very thought of it, makes me skin pucker in dryness, but, hey, to each their own). So, take care of your skin in the way that works for you.

But here's a tip, look to your older relatives. What worked for them? What would you make sure never to do? I'm a third generation lancome user. I'm sure your family has a history of using a certain technique (sleeping on a satin pillow case, anyone?)

How is this "Real World," you might ask? Well, I've read countless articles about botox addiction, face lifts, etc. I think that we'll save the world a heap of trouble if we take care of ourselves now, instead of depending on injections of botulism later.

Here's to growing old with grace.

Ever a Child, Never a Supervisor

I WANT to write about how pleased I am that I was able to run for 30 minutes without stopping today (2.5 miles!). I want to tell you that I'm well on my way towards my goal of being able to run 3 miles and that I'm hopeful about finding a 5k to run sometime in the next couple of months (one of the birthday goals I set for myself).

I also want to describe that punch in the gut feeling I felt when I heard some of the names announced in the reading of the Mitchell Report (my little Baseball loving heart is breaking. Breaking, I tell you.).

But instead, I'm sitting here with a pain across my stomach as I think angrily about the fact that my employers will never be able to see beyond the fact that I was an over-qualified 23 year old girl when I started. It's been three and a half years. I've earned a master's degree. A year and a half ago, I actually got to become an official librarian. And today, someone who has been with the county for six months was given the chairmanship of a committee that, by senority, should have been mine.

At first, I was relieved. Less work for me! Then, I was confused. I've been doing this job three times longer than her! I'm the senior member on the committee! I'm sure she's qualified, but...but...urgh.

It just makes me realize over again that I won't advance here. I will always be that young, fresh face that needs a little guidance. The woman who got to be chair? She's in her early forties. Even if she has less library experience than I do, she has more years under her belt.

It's not entirely ageism. I can see that. I admit to acting like the child that needs a little mothering, to calling on my supervisors for advice more often than some might, to garnering favoritism in scheduling because I'm "known." I've fallen into a familiar role, and it's hard to break the pattern.

As hard as it will be, at some point in the not too distant future, I think that I will have to fly the nest, get some new experiences with people who haven't known me (or known of me) since I was a 16 year old volunteer and maybe, just maybe, come back here when I'm a bit more polished.

Real World Wednesday

News Round-up

Three stories in recent days have caught my attention.

1) In celebration of the 60th anniversary of the State of Israel, the government is calling back ex-pats. The government offers incentives, including tax breaks, employment and small business loans. This could be up to 450,000 Israeli citizens living in the US and up to 250,000 more elsewhere in the world. I found this article intriguing. What would happen if the US offered incentives for citizens living in England or those artistic types who have made their way to Paris? Or what if Canada called back all of their ex-pats. Half of Hollywood would disappear back to the great North!

2) Argentina has a female president. Cristina Kirchner is the first female elected to the chief office in Argentina. And, if you've ever seen Evita, you will know that females in power in Argentina know how to use that power. I am curious to see what will come of more females coming to major power positions in the world. Will this open doors for American females as well?

3) Kosovo anticipates gaining independence in early 2008. After decades of violence and unrest, this country may finally have peace and the chance to rebuild. I remember reading, years ago, about Zlata. Granted, she grew up in Bosnia, but much of what was happening in Bosnia, was also happening in Kosovo. I remember hearing about the conflicts in both of these places throughout my early teen years. I hope that the politicans working with the United Nations to decide on Kosovo's decide on whether or not they will recognize Kosovo as an independent nation, they will consider the far-reaching consequences and help Kosovo establish themselves as a new, peaceful, nation.

Having Faith

My mom has a friend.

This friend believes that her children can do no wrong and that she has free reign to judge all other children and their respective parents.

Her children do wrong, as children do, but she's blind to it.

My mom and another friend have had to repeatedly defend my changing belief system, my changing church attendance.

This last week was the final straw. Right after asking what church I've been attending with WG, saying that she knows the pastor and thinks it's a fine church, she looked at my mother and said, "Aren't you worried about her soul?"

This has been nagging at me for the last week. I've talked to different people about it, and it still bothers me. My mom feels bad that she ever told me, but I think I needed to hear it. I think that, for one of the first times in my life, I am finding myself having to defend my religious choices. I was Catholic at a Catholic school from first through twelfth grade, so I never really had to stand up for myself.

It's true, my mom's friend, I am going to a non-Catholic church.

It's also true that I still pray the rosary.

It will remain true that I miss getting communion at mass.

It has never stopped being true that I believe in the Immaculate Conception, even if I can't explain it.

But what you need to understand, not that it's any of your business, is that I also now, for the first time in about ten years, leave church each week without being angry. I don't complain about the sermon or getting yelled at for several hours after church.

Again, not that it's any of your business, but I am also dating, for the first time in my (albeit limited) dating history, a man of faith. I'm not the one leading the faith train, and that's a relief.

Also, your children are often rude and hostile individuals, and I would suggest you concentrate on their souls rather than worrying about the soul of a girl who prays, goes to church, is not an alcoholic and hasn't recently taken up smoking to deal with the stresses of life.

And leave my poor mother out of this. If you have something to say about my life, say it to me, not to my mother, who worries enough as it is.

One Last Post About My Hair

A little less than a week into having the shortest hair in my life, and I have to say I LOVE it and wonder why I didn't cut it sooner.

The cut looks good on my face, suits my personality and, wonderfully, brings me one step closer to Grace.

I feel like I finally got the haircut I've been needing all these years. I don't feel like a frumpy librarian with crazy, fly away hair. I don't feel like I look exactly the same as I have since I was twelve.

If you're thinking you need a new style, if you're ready for a change, if you're shedding your adolescent hairdo, just know I'll be here applauding you all the way.

Real World Wednesday

Ten Inches.

Ten Inches is the required minimum length to donate to Locks of Love.

Ten Inches looks like this:


Ten inches have been scissored off of my hair.

Haircuts for me are a big deal. It takes weeks to convince myself I need a trim and even longer, clearly, for a major change.

I had planned on just a trim, and then I realized that if I went for the full-on cut, maybe I could do more than just make myself feel better. And I remembered a friend who has done this a couple of times, and I thought, "Well, by golly, I wonder what the requirements are." Well, I didn't think "by golly," 'cause I don't think anyone under the age of 85 thinks that, but you get my point.

I did the research and I found these requirements:

GUIDELINES FOR ACCEPTABLE DONATIONS
* Hair that is colored or permed is acceptable.
* Hair cut years ago is usable if it has been stored in a ponytail or braid.
* Hair that has been bleached (usually this refers to highlighted hair) is not usable. If unsure, ask your stylist.
* Hair that is swept off of the floor is not usable.
* Hair that is shaved off and not in a ponytail or braid is not usable.
* We cannot accept dreadlocks. Our manufacturer is not able to use them in our children’s hairpieces. We also cannot accept wigs, falls, hair extensions or synthetic hair.
* Layered hair is acceptable if the longest layer is 10 inches.
* Layered hair may be divided into multiple ponytails.
* Curly hair may be pulled straight to measure the minimum 10 inches.
* 10 inches measured tip to tip is the minimum length needed for a hairpiece.
* Please Note: Shorter hair will be separated from the ponytails and sold to offset the manufacturing costs. Although the shorter hair cannot be used in the hairpieces, it still greatly helps to reduce costs.
* Gray hair will be accepted and sold to offset the manufacturing costs.

I don't have dreadlocks (ha!), bleach has not touched my head...I think I can do it.

I think I had a mini panic attack last night as I thought about changing my hair so greatly. This morning, my hair looked better than it has in days, all full of life and wavy and shiny. Urgh. The WRONG day to have a good hair day.

And flipping through a magazine at the hair salon this afternoon, all I saw were pictures of women with gorgeous, wavy, long hair.

I started to doubt my decision.

But, it takes six ponytails to make one wig for a child, and I could be one of those ponytails. My long hair is a part of my personality, part of my identity, but I thought about the kids with no hair, and I got over myself.

And so, if you're looking for something nice to do around the holidays (or any other time), but you don't have a lot of money to give to charity, well, why not make a different kind of donation.

Or, get together five or six of your friends (perhaps with a similar hair color) and go for a new kind of spa day.

And if you get a fantastic new hairstyle out of the situation, what's wrong with that?

At Least I'm Consistent

The sun just slipped its note below my door
And I can't hide beneath my sheets
I've read the words before so now I know
The time has come again for me

And I'm feelin' the same way all over again
Feelin' the same way all over again
Singin' the same lines all over again
No matter how much I pretend

Another day that I can't find my head
My fea=et don't look like they're my own
I'll try and find the floor below to stand
And I hope I reach it once again

And I'm feelin' the same way all over again
Feelin' the same way all over again
Singin' the same lines all over again
No matter how much I pretend

(Norah Jones)

In my continued investigations of a move over to Wordpress, I thought that I might back-up the archives to this blog. See, I've written here, at this very same address, for a bit over five years now. I am giving serious thought to setting up a new blog with maybe only the last year or eighteen months in my archive.

Because, quite frankly, I no longer want to carry the last five years around with me.

As I've been backing up my blog - and by backing up, I mean copying and pasting the posts from the blog into a word document - I've noticed that I have a tendency to complain about two things in particular.

1) My job
2) Boys

Granted, in the past few months, I've gotten better at focusing and have taken on things like Real World Wednesday and have made something of an effort to take the more personal stuff between WG and me out of the blog (and, now that he's found the blog - thanks G, haha - I most certainly don't want to say anything here that I wouldn't want to say to him in person).

But perusing those old postings, it frightened me how easy it is to see the patterns in my behavior. My dating habits followed a cycle that went like this:
a) excitement over a new guy
b) excitement that we might get to date on a regular basis
c) disenchantment
d) the end

My career habits followed the same exact pattern.

a) excuberance about the possibility of a new job
b) elation at getting hired
c) disenchantment
d) begin the job search

I find myself, now, in a new place. My relationship is solid. No complaints. I have a good job (and by good, I mean stable and requires me to use my brain) that often drives me to the brink of insanity.

I have no intention of leaving my job anytime soon. It actually helps to see my pattern. I'm clearly never entirely satisified with a job. Several times a week, I question the sanity of keeping my current job, but looking back over the past couple of years helps me realize that this is all part of my pattern. What would happen if I tried to change the usual way of things by sticking it out with my job? I've already discovered the joys of not running away from a relationship as soon as it starts to get challenging. What would it mean if I got over the image of an ideal job and simply buckled down and did the best I could?

This may be my only chance to reflect like this, because once those four or so years of blog postings are saved safely on a computer somewhere, I don't intend to dwell on them.

I'd like to chart new courses, follow new paths and stop being quite so consistent.

A Little Worse for the Wear

After six days in a row working, it's clear that's my limit.

And I have to work again tomorrow.

Granted, this is the second week in three weeks that I have had to work seven days in a row, so that could be part of it.

But it's got me exhausted. I looked in the mirror today, and I look flat worn out. My eyes have bags. My hair is askew in it's bun (yes, I'm a librarian. yes, I wear my hair in a bun...but it's askew, so stop laughing at the stereotypical librarian in me). I can see the beginnings of lines around my lips.

And going off the "Sarah looks haggard and tired" line of thinking, I realized the other day that it's not just my mom and a few friends who call me "Poor Sarah."

I was talking with a co-worker about a slightly confusing transaction (which had confused her, as well, mind you), and she looked at me, smiled and shook her head, "Poor Sarah," she said. I realized right then that my boss calls me that. Others in the office say that about me. It's not just my mom. This can't be good.

Moving on from that (and yes, this is how my brain works), I realized that I'll probably never get promoted in my current library. Everyone knows me as "Poor Sarah," and that doesn't translate well to "supervisor."

And going even further, this makes me even more okay with packing it all in and (eventually? soon?) moving somewhere new, where no one knew me when I was 17 and where no one (yet) knows that I'm "Poor Sarah."

Just think, I could have a brand new nickname!

But I Don't Wannna

People at my work have babies on a fairly regular basis. I think there has been one child born at least every six or eight months since I've been here. Though everyone on staff has been invited to every last possible baby shower, I haven't been able to make each one. Whew.

The last one I attended involved passing around diapers full of melted chocolate another foods concocted to look like poop. We were supposed to smell and touch the contents of each diaper and guess its real nature. Uhm. Yeah.

We have another shower to attend next week. And I'm not going. 'Cause I don't wanna.

I don't want to spend a Friday evening, uncomfortably nodding as someone talks to me about swelling and...blood...and...stuff I really don't care to know until my own child is about to burst forth from my fertile womb.

I don't want to hear the "birth stories" of everyone I work with. I don't want to ooh and aww over bibs and socks and booties. Trust me, it won't help for me to go home to WG with my mind full of baby-sized spoons and adorable stuffed animals (maternal instincts and the desire for a little, cooing infant overcome even the best of "I'm not ready" intentions). And, I just don't wanna go.

I bought a gift. But I can't take being squeezed in amongst a bunch of middle-aged women who blame their children for their thighs.

Whenever I have the chance to have or throw a baby shower, I will declare a moratorium on birth stories. You can talk about your baby. You can talk about vomit. But I don't want to hear about plugs or cords, unless you're talking about the WII you're going to get me for Christmas.

And then there's the wedding of the year. The one I'm not going to attend. Exactly how far does the "family friend" obligation extend? My mother's friend has 8 children. Two or three of whom have even the remotest idea who I am. The one getting married is not one of those three. And I see no reason to spend an ENTIRE Saturday in the holiday season attending the wedding of someone I don't know and don't really like. Plus, WG will be home in the Corral, and I have no desire to attend this wedding without WG along for the sake of entertainment, alone.

So, that's two things I don't wanna do, and I'm not gonna.

...oh, and as long as we're on the subject. I'm not gonna invite people to my wedding just because they may at one time have baby-sat me. Sigh.