Down with Rolaids, up with Tums! The Rolaids I took this morning (thankfully, the last 2 I had) never did kick in. But the Tums I got in the Skyway… 10 minutes and they knocked that heartburn back. (It’s still lingering, but give it a few more minutes.) Tums taste worse, in my opinion, but… who cares.
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I woke up this morning with heartburn. How does that happen? We ate ice cream at 8 or 9 last night, but I didn’t have any snacks after that…. Wednesday night I had a bowl of ravioli with red pepper flakes (leftover from Well, after spending the last hour re-tracing my steps and making alternate arrangements for my ID badge and bus pass that went missing, and finally accepting that I was just going to have to wait for someone to return it… that’s what’s happened. They apparently decided they wanted to work in one of our field offices, and defected from my belt clip right outside the office across the street (yes, we have a field office kitty-corner from our Administrative offices, and yes, I walk by it everyday, and no, I don’t know anyone who works there except over email, and no, I don’t think that’s odd). So someone picked it up, brought it in to them, they called me, and I’m back in business. I literally had the temp bus pass for five minutes. But I am relieved, especially since my bus pass picture is hideous, and I didn’t like the idea of that floating around. So yay! I sent a thank-you email and everything. I completely and entirely missed the Farmer’s Market today, so I guess It is h-o-t outside! Well, relatively speaking. I wore a short-sleeved shirt today with pants, and had to put on my sweater here at work, and then when I wore it out for coffee, I was baking. Makes me not want baked chicken and rice so much tonight. But I’m hungry, so it’ll be good anyways. At least it’s not 90* out. Sometimes, without even planning on it, my walk for coffee turns into a zen experience. I don’t know if it’s the weather, or if I’m wearing the right clothes, or if work and/or the outside world become so overwhelming that it’s the best way to cope… but it just happens. I leave my building, and my steps slow. They are still with purpose, direction, but without drive. I usually don’t have a sense of urgency about my breaks, since they’re time away from work and shouldn’t be characterized by the need to get back, but I still usually walk at my own pace, which is a bit faster than a “stroll.” And as my steps slow, everything seems to focus inward, as if there is a steel rod running vertically through my body and everything is drawn towards it. I am completely aware of my surroundings, the noises and smells and people around me. But they don’t affect me – they just roll off of me. I am not one with the world, but one with myself. I am no longer a collection of bones and muscles and limbs and organs and thoughts and feelings, but… one. My thoughts still, my mind and heart grow calm. I breathe a bit deeper, my shoulder muscles relax, and all the annoyances of work… just don’t seem to matter at the moment. And then I get back to work and somebody messes it up. Or, like today, I get back into the building only to realize that at some point during my zen-ness, my ID badge (with bus pass) has completely disconnected itself from my belt clip and… is gone. Perhaps it is off to find its oneness. I wish that it were part of my oneness, but alas. That I stole from Kazoofus, who stole it from Michelle, whose blog I’d never read before today I know ~ that blogging is cathartic for me (therapeutic), even if most of what I say is just blabber.
-Rose Walker OK, excluding the turn this quote takes towards the end, I really like it. Well, the first paragraph is great, at least. I found it while looking for a new signature quote for my email. I’m pretty sure I could just chop off the end of it, leave it trailing after the “crying in the darkness” part, but then that would be taking the quote out of context and… unethical. So there it is. But let’s be honest – that’s what love is like. At least for me. You build up walls so you won’t get hurt again. You get to the point where you think you’re immune, that regardless of what happens, you can avoid pain because you’ve got these defenses. And then someone, somehow, maybe without even them knowing it, sneaks around all of that and -bam!- you’re screwed. I don’t mean that pessimistically – it’s just that if you thought you were protected, and you realize you aren’t, it’s a bit… frightening at first. And exhilarating. And then finally comforting. There’s great… comfort and safety in being vulnerable. I know that I thought I was safe, protected, defended against the potential injury of love. So safe, in fact, that I was worried I’d gone too far and wouldn’t be able to experience that again. Because the last time… didn’t end well, and even if it wasn’t a real relationship by the world’s standards, the feelings I had were real, and I totally cherish that experience. I grew through it, and learned about myself, and ultimately am who I am today because of it. But in the aftermath of love lost, there’s the opportunity to shut one’s self off from future pain. I readily acknowledged that he hadn’t done anything wrong, that I had knowingly put myself in that situation, and only I was to blame for any hurt I was experiencing. So logically I could protect myself from that again, and I was the only one who could, since I was in charge. Oh, how naive we are. And then I went years upon years of barely even meeting anyone with potential. I blabbered on about different guys here and there, mostly because they were the only thing going on, not because there was any real potential there. And a blog gets significantly less interesting without a love interest of some sort. (That’s a joke there, folks.) When I first met We kept seeing each other, and he definitely grew on me, and time passed. I knew I felt something for him, I just… wasn’t sure of myself. I’d done this before, either fooled myself that the guy felt something, or fooled myself that I did, and I didn’t want to make that mistake again. I wanted to know it was real. And my sweet boy was ever-so-patient, and somehow knew that there was something real there, that it was worth waiting around for me to figure it out. And somehow, in the midst of this, he completely snuck in around all my defenses. It happened early-on, too, because I remember saying to The difference between friends and significant others is this: both recognize and will admit with you what your faults are. Both completely accept you with them. But significant others… make you want to grow and improve upon yourself, work on your faults, as best you can. And at some point, you reach the stage where you’re not sure that your life is completely your own anymore. You haven’t lost your individuality, your identity, but so much of your life – your decisions, your plans for Saturday afternoon, your frustrations and concerns, your goals and dreams – are wrapped up in this other person. And that can get frightening. It can be the point where you run, cut bait, get the h*ll out of dodge. But if you do that, you totally miss out on the best part. Because if we run every time we get scared, or things get rough, we’re always starting over, and we’re never… evolving into future versions of ourselves. True, we might miss out on great pain and heartbreak, but we miss out on great love, that’s for sure. Movie love, storybook love, real love. Because when the director yells “cut,” and “The End” shows up on the screen, life continues, and it gets messy and rough, and that’s where life is lived. That’s where who we are is really determined. I’ve heard it said, “character is who you are when nobody is looking.” I can’t think of a good way to put that into parallel thought, but… you get my drift, right? So sure, I can get on board with the author who says, “I hate love.” The greatest pains I have ever experienced in my life have been because of love, whether it be family or churches or friends. But I also know that those are the experiences that forged me, that have molded me and shaped me into who I am today. And though I know I have a lot of “areas of growth,” I’m OK with life as it is today, with me as I am. And heck, who wants to have “arrived” at their full potential as a human being at 28? “Areas of growth” just means that life can continue to be exciting and drama-filled and I can keep changing as I age, instead of being some stagnant fuddy-duddy adult, stuck in my ways. But more accurate than “I hate love” is the idea behind it, that love is powerful and strong and worth grabbing onto. If more people were willing to… hang in there when the going gets rough, or see the potential in another person and wait around for them to figure things out… would there be fewer lonely people out there? I sure think so. I don’t remember what I started out to say, whether it was “thanks” or “here’s what I’m thinking” or… something else. As terrifying as it can be, when love gets inside you, when another person can shake you to your core… that’s the stuff. It’s never wrong to love. Never. Thus ends today’s rambling thoughts…. you may continue on in a confused matter as you were before.
Scroll about halfway through the list of “8 cheap places you’d want to live,” and you find Minneapolis. As someone who’s recently been despairing the idea of continuing to pay rent, pay off credit card debt, and go back to school… I was surprised to find myself living in an “affordable” place. But then look at the comparison stats and… it doesn’t seem so affordable. The home price is higher, cost of living higher, average salary the same, and future job growth is lower. OK, so unemployment is lower, there’s a positive. I’m not insulting our fair Twin Cities, because I choose to live here and most of the time am glad I made that choice. (And, while I wasn’t planning on moving before, with the impending move of Oh well – read the article and see what you think for yourself. They didn’t persuade me to move to Arkansas. I had a wonderful birthday weekend, even if I was a bit annoyed upon leaving work on Friday.  New Birkenstocks Then everyone came over for brunch and we had waffles (with a truckload of strawberries and whipped cream, no complaints) and watched Narnia.  Me, A, and L And then Currently listening to: “Thank GOD we broke up” playlist, because I wanted to hear Kelly Clarkson Peeve of the moment: co-workers, what else? What I’m wondering: if I freeze one ice cube at 0* F and another at -100* F, will I have one ice cube that’s warmer than the other, or will they both be the same temperature?
Let’s get caught up, shall we? Tuesday night we went to a parade in Northeast. It was actually pretty cool for a local/neighborhood parade, and really long. I mean… unbelievably long. That would be my only complaint (other than kids running amok in the street and people crossing the street between floats). It may have been longer than the the Thanksgiving Parade I saw in Detroit with floats and Santa and the Rockettes and Frankie Muniz and… some teeny-bopper singer. Then we got some food… What else have I been doing? Um, work has been incredibly boring. I’ve been wavering between suffering over nothing to do, and suffering through Access projects. Both have been boring. I’m almost done spray-painting for a while… the next project will involve actually taking the drawers out of my dresser, and that’s a big commitment (though hopefully good motivation to get it done quickly). That was Tuesday, and the same night Also makes me glad that, relatively speaking, my life has been on steady ground for quite some time. I’ve almost reached the two-year marker at my current house. I’ve been at my job for… three and a half years, in Minnesota for four and a half. I’ve been friends with
Speaking of, just two more days until my much-anticipated gift from And with that, maybe I’ll get back to work. Or I’ll try…. there’s not much to do (that I want to do, that is). Miles walked since 6/1: 18.2 Happy Birthday, (said in the same tone of voice as Ben Affleck in “Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back,” when he says, “a-ha, I wasn’t with a hooker today!“) I have an idea of what my birthday gift from And if I’m right, it’ll go to show why I don’t like surprises (primarily that I figure out what’s going on before it happens, and then I have to just play along anyways, and that’s no fun), and why, when planning a surprise for me, one must be very sneaky and actually keep it a secret. Because I’ve been known to figure these things out. I may not be observant all the time, but when someone’s keeping something hidden, I tend to sense it. Maybe it’s because I spent so many years trying to hide things from my parents. Who knows. And no, I won’t tell you what I think it is. If I’m right, then I might just gloat about it later. And if I’m wrong, I won’t tell anyone what I thought it might be, because that just seems like a bad idea. I’m too… bored of words to blog, so I’m posting pictures… from this weekend, from a few weeks back, and even one from our trip to Chicago that got lost in the shuffle has just been found.  A couple of weeks back, we went for a walk at the pond near Prince Charming's house, in an attempt to feed the ducks. No luck there, but there was a crane, or whatever bird this is. It wouldn't let me get too close, but that's what the 4 megapixels are for, right? Check out the zoom.
 On the way back from Chicago, we drove by this oddity outside the Great Wolf Lodge in Wisconsin Dells. Turns out it's a water ride. Scary.
 We arrived at the MOA on Saturday and the rotunda was packed (as usual). Upon checking it out, we found it was a Nathan's Hot Dogs eating competition... a regional one, winner going to Coney Island on July 4 for the official one. So we stayed.
 Getting ready...
 More getting ready... (we waited a loooong time for them to get it all straight)
 Start eating!
 Prince Charming's cat, Snowy, asleep on the stairs. Looking cute. Because she doesn't let you take pictures of you when she's filled with hatred.
 Darkness sleeps
 A few weeks back, Prince Charming spent a great deal of time making this flashlight out of 3 AAA batteries and a Tic Tac container (he found the directions online, and I bet you could Google them too). It was pretty cool. This picture is crap, but...
 ...the action shot is pretty nice.
 See how good I've been? Mom gave this to me when she was in town... two weeks ago. And it's just sitting in my bedroom, waiting for Saturday. Patience is a virtue, and while I may not have mastered it, I am pretty good at it. awesome!!! I think I figured out the afore-mentioned Access quandary. Sometimes, I rock. |
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at 11:30 and I was fine (if anything should give me heartburn, shouldn’t it be that?). And now I’m relegated to avoiding Starbucks all day, since dairy and caffeine and coffee (with or without caf) are all on the “no” list, and since the 
, you’re the only one I know who used to frequently suffer from this – any suggestions? This is unpleasant, and could make me grumpy if it doesn’t go away by lunchtime.
and I are having frozen vegetables tonight with dinner, or a strictly-iceberg-lettuce-salad, or… to the chagrin of our mothers, no veggies. Well, I do need milk, but I don’t like going grocery shopping on Thursdays, since then I tend to be gone for the whole weekend and everything that was fresh… isn’t when I return.
‘s move up here will be as smooth as possible, and her living in the same state as me will be a good thing, and not the bad thing I initially thought it could be
left and when my parents got divorced.
or 
(or maybe all three – there was a lot of Kelly-counseling going on then) how it almost frightened me that I implicitly trusted him completely. I always felt safe, and cared for. He has always been brave enough to put himself out there first, so I could slowly learn to be vulnerable again. And he puts up with my shortcomings (“areas of growth”).
called. Note to self: I was born at 5:56 pm. I always forget that 
‘s latest test results came back “stable,” which is all that can be hoped for. Back at 
came over and gave me her deposit and application, and was nearly bouncing with joy as she left. She’s excited to move in, which is good, good, good.
came home (for the first time since early Friday, but it will become apparent why shortly) and told me that Monday at work he got notice of being laid off. (So he went “home” to his fiancee, which is probably what I’d do, or want to do, be comforted by someone I loved…. Unfortunately, last time I was nearly laid off it wasn’t nearly that traumatic to me, and when I was fired I was pretty much alone in the world and had to get by on phone consolation, by 
