I don't know why some people are dealt such a difficult hand. I sit here, feeling so blessed, and yet, I feel guilty for not living their life.
Not that my life is perfect—I have my own personal anxieties and fears and a past of my own. Still nothing I have comes near to the pain and the anguish that others face. It's impossible for me to carry all of that . . . stuff for them. I wish I could. As I struggle to feel the emotions that they feel, and to—even express a small part of how it twists my soul—from my shoulders to the space between my rib cage and my stomach—I find myself standing slightly alone.
I'm not.
But now? I find myself presented with an opportunity to walk away from it all. And it's proving much more difficult to do than it was before I bought the plane ticket.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Going Down?
It’s really hard to come up with something creative when I’m in such a grumpy mood—especially when that grumpiness is due, in part, to being told I have to lower my creative standards to fit with something that I find garish and distasteful.
I have rewritten this many times, trying to find the words to say without complaining or indulging my current state of negativity. I so desperately want someone to tell me that I’m cooler and better than I think I am, but even if they did, I wouldn’t believe them. Apparently, compliments only serve to rub in the fact that I’m an ingrate who doesn’t realize just how good she’s got it. I’ve got a great job. I’ve got amazing friends. I live in the second most beautiful place in the world.
What do I have to complain about?
Nothing.
So why do I feel like such a mess? Why do I feel like I have control over absolutely nothing? Why do I feel like any of this matters at all to anyone but my grouchy, narcissistic self?
And why is my computer telling me that “this matters” is incorrect subject/verb agreement? I’ve already had someone correct my grammar and punctuation today, and I know for a fact that I was right.
Grrrrrrrr…..
I have rewritten this many times, trying to find the words to say without complaining or indulging my current state of negativity. I so desperately want someone to tell me that I’m cooler and better than I think I am, but even if they did, I wouldn’t believe them. Apparently, compliments only serve to rub in the fact that I’m an ingrate who doesn’t realize just how good she’s got it. I’ve got a great job. I’ve got amazing friends. I live in the second most beautiful place in the world.
What do I have to complain about?
Nothing.
So why do I feel like such a mess? Why do I feel like I have control over absolutely nothing? Why do I feel like any of this matters at all to anyone but my grouchy, narcissistic self?
And why is my computer telling me that “this matters” is incorrect subject/verb agreement? I’ve already had someone correct my grammar and punctuation today, and I know for a fact that I was right.
Grrrrrrrr…..
I Long for Adventure
I don't know about you, but being a pig-keeper sounds pretty adventurous and heroic to me.
But I think I'll stick with stuffed animals.
But I think I'll stick with stuffed animals.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Resume According to the Law of Chance
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Sample Statement of Intent:
I am a leguminous (adj. relating to, or denoting plants of the pea family) individual seeking a serene (adj. calm, peaceful, and untroubled; tranquil) job in the neutron bomb (n. a nuclear weapon that produces large numbers of neutrons rather than heat or blast like conventional nuclear weapons) industry. (Not a real resume)
"Oxford Dictionary, you've done it again!" (Not a real quote)
The CK Resume Service: Building Successful Careers, One Word At A Time.
Sample Statement of Intent:
I am a leguminous (adj. relating to, or denoting plants of the pea family) individual seeking a serene (adj. calm, peaceful, and untroubled; tranquil) job in the neutron bomb (n. a nuclear weapon that produces large numbers of neutrons rather than heat or blast like conventional nuclear weapons) industry. (Not a real resume)
"Oxford Dictionary, you've done it again!" (Not a real quote)
The CK Resume Service: Building Successful Careers, One Word At A Time.
Heidi and the Genius of the Place
I like my small world--the one in which I work. I find a task, learn about it, and try do my best in it and suddenly I'm the smartest, cleverest, most talented person in that area.
Did you know that I--who generally dislikes talking on the phone, especially to strangers--am the best person for asking people I do not know for money?
Did you know that I--who read specific books within specific genres that I specifically enjoy and disregard countless other books--am one of the main people in contributing lists of recommended reads and genres?
Did you know that I--who didn't have email until 10 years ago, didn't use Google until well into college, didn't own my own computer until 5 years ago, and often for the life of me cannot answer the ever-present questions "What just happened?," "What did I do?," and "Where did it go?"--am the fountain of computer knowledge that all seek out to benefit from my wisdom?
Yes. Yes. Always a pleasant surprise to find out that, like Sid the Sloth,
Did you know that I--who generally dislikes talking on the phone, especially to strangers--am the best person for asking people I do not know for money?
Did you know that I--who read specific books within specific genres that I specifically enjoy and disregard countless other books--am one of the main people in contributing lists of recommended reads and genres?
Did you know that I--who didn't have email until 10 years ago, didn't use Google until well into college, didn't own my own computer until 5 years ago, and often for the life of me cannot answer the ever-present questions "What just happened?," "What did I do?," and "Where did it go?"--am the fountain of computer knowledge that all seek out to benefit from my wisdom?
Yes. Yes. Always a pleasant surprise to find out that, like Sid the Sloth,
I. Am. A. Genius.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
A Wok of Art
Haikus give me some trouble. Ever since that fateful day in the third grade when Mrs. Richens assigned her poor students the task of creating a Haiku in ten-minutes with the unspoken threat “or no recess” looming in the air, I've been at a loss to write what could be subjectively considered a “worthy” Haiku. A work of art. After cheating my way out of truly fulfilling the assignment, it has been my life-long goal to rightfully claim that recess. The recess my nine-year-old mentality stole those long years ago by scribbling a couple of illegible lines on that blue and beige page.
Perhaps someday, I will have finally earned the right to play that game of four-square. But for now, here is a small, but tasty smattering of a few Haikus that will hopefully bring me one step closer to achieving my ultimate ambition.
(Or, as the title implies, here is a . . . Chinese bowl . . . pan . . . of Japanese . . . poetic . . . flavors)
Ahem. One of first Haikus I came across and actually enjoyed was shared by a high school history teacher. Some of you may have heard it before:
Duck duck duck duck duck
duck duck duck duck duck duck duck
duck duck duck duck goose
- Becky Langford
Not a work of art. Slightly overused. But entertaining and clever nonetheless.
I ran across another Haiku—apparently one of the best known Japanese Haikus—just the other day. Since the Japanese does me no good, here is the English translation:
Old pond . . .
a frog leaps in
water's sound
-Matsuo BashÅ
Right. Perhaps a work of art, you be the judge. However, just like the first, it fails to give me the tools to write a truly poetic Haiku. But it is very naturey, which I hear, is a traditional requirement of Haikus. Here's a Haiku by yours truly, in which I broke that tradition accidentally on purpose:
Found lost grocery list
cheese cloth and onions you say?
two trips to the store
True story.
But once again, the oh-so-tricky, ultimate Haiku alludes me. And so the quest continues.
Your help is needed. Please feel free to add to my collection.
Perhaps someday, I will have finally earned the right to play that game of four-square. But for now, here is a small, but tasty smattering of a few Haikus that will hopefully bring me one step closer to achieving my ultimate ambition.
(Or, as the title implies, here is a . . . Chinese bowl . . . pan . . . of Japanese . . . poetic . . . flavors)
Ahem. One of first Haikus I came across and actually enjoyed was shared by a high school history teacher. Some of you may have heard it before:
Duck duck duck duck duck
duck duck duck duck duck duck duck
duck duck duck duck goose
- Becky Langford
Not a work of art. Slightly overused. But entertaining and clever nonetheless.
I ran across another Haiku—apparently one of the best known Japanese Haikus—just the other day. Since the Japanese does me no good, here is the English translation:
Old pond . . .
a frog leaps in
water's sound
-Matsuo BashÅ
Right. Perhaps a work of art, you be the judge. However, just like the first, it fails to give me the tools to write a truly poetic Haiku. But it is very naturey, which I hear, is a traditional requirement of Haikus. Here's a Haiku by yours truly, in which I broke that tradition accidentally on purpose:
Found lost grocery list
cheese cloth and onions you say?
two trips to the store
True story.
But once again, the oh-so-tricky, ultimate Haiku alludes me. And so the quest continues.
Your help is needed. Please feel free to add to my collection.
600
Six hundred words—that’s all I’m asking for.
Six hundred itty, bitty, little words.
That’s not much, really, when you think about it. And come on—you’re a brain. “Thinking about it” is what you’re good at. (Supposedly.)
Please?
Pretty, pretty please?
I have to get this book finished.
You ever heard of obsession? Well, this is becoming one. And Brain, you had better watch out because when obsession strikes, you’re usually the first one to go.
Yeah, you might want to do something about that.
Like maybe give me some ideas—preferably well-worded ones.
Hello?
Six hundred itty, bitty, little words.
That’s not much, really, when you think about it. And come on—you’re a brain. “Thinking about it” is what you’re good at. (Supposedly.)
Please?
Pretty, pretty please?
I have to get this book finished.
You ever heard of obsession? Well, this is becoming one. And Brain, you had better watch out because when obsession strikes, you’re usually the first one to go.
Yeah, you might want to do something about that.
Like maybe give me some ideas—preferably well-worded ones.
Hello?
Laugh in the Face of Fear of the #13
It's a good word of the day when it not only makes you laugh, but also brings a smile in remembrance of something that brings pure joy.
(This is one of my absolute favorite scenes--for more reasons than I could tell you.)
Happy Thursday!
And if you feel so inclined to celebrate, find a place with mattresses and thrill to the joy of the Word of the Day:
Triskaidekaphobia!!!
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Snow day
Sometimes, the weather is perfect. The crisp, cool air, perfectly warmed by the sun, breathes excitement into every flower, ant, and road trip. Grass shimmies in a kind of musical chorus line as grasshoppers suddenly reveal themselves and then disappear just as quickly. The bright blue sky, tinted with just a drop of yellow ochre from the turning leaves, bathes the world in an irreplaceable feeling of adventure.
Today was not one of those days. Snow, snow, snow, snow, ice . . . snow, snow, snow, snow, wind, snow. The trees are dead, stiff, spiky, antagonistic, and every other icky thing you can think of. There is no color besides white and gray.
Typically snow doesn't bother me. But I woke up today longing for an adventure. Now, adventures are difficult to find in the middle of Indiana on a sunny day so I guess you could call me an optimist for hoping for something exciting and out of the ordinary in the dead of winter. In fact, when I threw open my curtains this morning Mother Nature said: “In yo' face foo'.” (I hardly know why she chose to speak in white girl ebonics this morning, I only type the truth).
However, I had a change of heart when I let my dog out to do his morning business. As he bounded through the snow, stuck his face wildly into five feet of snow, ate the snow, drank the snow, peed in the snow—my entire life's ambition changed.
I'm going to grow-up to be a dog. Adventure shall never be denied again!
Today was not one of those days. Snow, snow, snow, snow, ice . . . snow, snow, snow, snow, wind, snow. The trees are dead, stiff, spiky, antagonistic, and every other icky thing you can think of. There is no color besides white and gray.
Typically snow doesn't bother me. But I woke up today longing for an adventure. Now, adventures are difficult to find in the middle of Indiana on a sunny day so I guess you could call me an optimist for hoping for something exciting and out of the ordinary in the dead of winter. In fact, when I threw open my curtains this morning Mother Nature said: “In yo' face foo'.” (I hardly know why she chose to speak in white girl ebonics this morning, I only type the truth).
However, I had a change of heart when I let my dog out to do his morning business. As he bounded through the snow, stuck his face wildly into five feet of snow, ate the snow, drank the snow, peed in the snow—my entire life's ambition changed.
I'm going to grow-up to be a dog. Adventure shall never be denied again!
Genesis
You know that feeling when you use a new toothbrush for the first time? The bristles are still perfect, and if your teeth could sigh with pleasure, they would. Hello, new friend. I can tell this is the start of a long and glorious friendship. We shall be friends for a whole three months!
Or, the feeling when you start a new book and the pages are all crisp and the binding unbroken? You slip between the leaves cautiously – or perhaps boldly, if you are of the more intrepid variety – and meet the characters that you will spend the next several hundred pages with. Will you like them? Will they like you? You know you are in it for the long haul, so it is with a mixture of trepidation and excitement that you settle in and wait to see where this story takes you.
I love those feelings, the feelings of firsts. And today, today was a day to celebrate such firsts.
Today, I took my first car for our first road trip. I’m headed back to New Mexico – back to my “home”, you could say – after spending the holidays with my lovely family in Idaho, and it is the first time I have driven there. Well, unless you count the time I took a Greyhound bus and a guy named Alan asked me to get off with him in Laramie, Wyoming.
“Your ticket is good for a week, you know,” he tells me.
Um, no. “Thank you,” I said, feigning flattery. “But I have people waiting for me, so I really must get to where I’m going.”
He was silent for a while after that, which was a relief. Up until that point, every blessed moment of silence was filled with him asking me, “What was I thinking?” as if he really expected me to know but wasn’t sure he wanted to hear.
But no, this is my first time driving to New Mexico.
Today was also the first time I saw a Golden Eagle in the wild. I have been a rabid fan of these majestic birds for as long as I have been a fan of flying things, but I had yet to see one in the wild. And oh, how I ached to. We have lived minutes away from the Birds of Prey National Conservation Area for years and Goldens are known to nest in the Snake River Gorge, yet still, I never saw one.
Well that goal can be crossed of my To-Do-Before-I-Die list, because today, driving down I-84, a large, immature Golden Eagle flew out of a field next to the road. And that almost was the last thing to cross off of my To-Do-Before-I-Die list because I was so excited I kind of forgot I was driving for a split second…
Happy Thursday* to all, and to all a good night!
*The first of the year!
Or, the feeling when you start a new book and the pages are all crisp and the binding unbroken? You slip between the leaves cautiously – or perhaps boldly, if you are of the more intrepid variety – and meet the characters that you will spend the next several hundred pages with. Will you like them? Will they like you? You know you are in it for the long haul, so it is with a mixture of trepidation and excitement that you settle in and wait to see where this story takes you.
I love those feelings, the feelings of firsts. And today, today was a day to celebrate such firsts.
Today, I took my first car for our first road trip. I’m headed back to New Mexico – back to my “home”, you could say – after spending the holidays with my lovely family in Idaho, and it is the first time I have driven there. Well, unless you count the time I took a Greyhound bus and a guy named Alan asked me to get off with him in Laramie, Wyoming.
“Your ticket is good for a week, you know,” he tells me.
Um, no. “Thank you,” I said, feigning flattery. “But I have people waiting for me, so I really must get to where I’m going.”
He was silent for a while after that, which was a relief. Up until that point, every blessed moment of silence was filled with him asking me, “What was I thinking?” as if he really expected me to know but wasn’t sure he wanted to hear.
But no, this is my first time driving to New Mexico.
Today was also the first time I saw a Golden Eagle in the wild. I have been a rabid fan of these majestic birds for as long as I have been a fan of flying things, but I had yet to see one in the wild. And oh, how I ached to. We have lived minutes away from the Birds of Prey National Conservation Area for years and Goldens are known to nest in the Snake River Gorge, yet still, I never saw one.
Well that goal can be crossed of my To-Do-Before-I-Die list, because today, driving down I-84, a large, immature Golden Eagle flew out of a field next to the road. And that almost was the last thing to cross off of my To-Do-Before-I-Die list because I was so excited I kind of forgot I was driving for a split second…
Happy Thursday* to all, and to all a good night!
*The first of the year!
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