I don't put things off. I'm a worker-aheader, a planny-McPlannerson, an extremely-prepared kind of person. But the first 2 weeks of Fall semester this year has proved me incapable of juggling all the things I have going on. There is so much pressure at work to get the new systems up and running, and there are a plethora of meetings that I really wish I didn't need/have to attend. On the other side, I have unbelievable pressure from classwork and the added bonus of planning/researching my thesis this semester. On top of that, I, personally, have had 2 routine Dr.'s appointments, and Kyle had eye surgery yesterday. He has one more check up that will require me to drive him and miss work, and then he should be home-free for seeing well again.
Over Labor Day weekend, I had 400 pages of a dry, slow-reading novel to digest, plus 50+ pages of criticism/background, plus two essay questions due by 7am Monday morning (which was my birthday). We had 2 family reunions with 50+ people that weekend. Too much. All around, it was all just too much for me.
I thought I'd be able to get my mind back into a routine following Labor Day, but that proved impossible, and now it's Saturday and I finally feel like I can sit down and breathe for the first time in two weeks.
Last night was a due date for my general plan for writing this gigantor paper, the culmination of my grad career. Library school taught me how to research with the best of them. This English program is teaching me how to be a literary critic. And my final "test" will be a massive paper, a book even, on some literary topic of my choice. I've struggled to come up with something interesting, and was about ready to fall back on my favorite topic of female character moral development in 19th c. British lit., when I read Steph's birthday gift to me from last year, The Book Thief. It changed my perspective and made me appreciate modern fiction again.
By yesterday, I was to turn in to my adviser a chapter outline of what I want to write on for this massive undertaking. I didn't really know how in depth I should go for this "Prospectus," but with the minimal time I had available to think about it in the 1-week time frame I was given, I thought it might end up only phrases, not even sentences, in length. I stayed late at work, after missing half the day for Kyle's surgery, and when I got home we wolfed down some food and did the mountain of dishes that had piled up since Monday evening. Then, I locked myself in the back room and began ruminating on what I wanted to say about The Book Thief and how I could make those ideas into 20 page chapters while still sounding intelligent.
I needed to Google ideas like "death as narrator," which produced results of mostly fantastical, not-the-right-kind of books. I needed to brainstorm on physical paper the 5 different directions I could go and choose the best one (or the most interesting one to me). I needed to revisit my Critical Approaches to Literature Handbook so that I could see what criticisms might help me illuminate this text and any other works I chose to examine. As you can see, I had many decisions to make.
In a few hours' time, I think I got it. But I'm going to wait to hear back from my adviser before giving any specifics, in case she doesn't like it and I must change directions.
It turned out just like I thought it would...I needed two minutes to rub together (or 180 minutes, truthfully) so my brain could focus on just one thing. It felt good.
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
10 September 2011
18 August 2011
Signs of Aging
On any typical day, I'm pretty with it. I generally have a calendar in my brain filled in with all the day's, week's, and often month's events and appointments. I make lists, it's true, but mostly because I just like making lists, not entirely because I must have them.
In the last few weeks, I've noticed my brain power slipping. I knew the stress of finishing a short semester and beginning a new semester, combined with several new projects and a few presentations that must be finished prior to our Aug. 30th student start date, was getting to me. And then I got sick. Really sick, like laying on the couch whenever I wasn't at work sick. Not able to work out or sit up (sometimes) or do adequate research for my term paper. But I did not know just how much my cognitive ability was affected until this week.
Wednesday morning, I was finishing up washing my hair, spreading some conditioner on it, when a realization hit me. For weeks, I'd had this little inkling that something was amiss with my brand new conditioner, the one I'd gone out one evening for the sole reason of picking up. It didn't feel right on my hair or in my hands as I got ready to apply it. In truth, it hadn't felt right for weeks, I realized, but I hadn't had the energy to think about why.
And the why, folks, is pretty important and indicative of the sad spectacle of my life right now.
It's shampoo.
That's what the bottle says. The bottle that I picked up in the store and examined very closely because I was so tired when I bought it. I remember doing that. I remember saying -- whew, good thing I double-checked that container. I know right now I could have picked up the wrong thing. But I did anyway because my mind isn't processing at an adequate speed.
Upon retrospect, it became clear that I've been double shampooing and leaving conditioner off of my hair every other day for almost three weeks. No wonder it's been feeling so strange and has been really hard to comb through.
Because it was so embarrassing, I had to tell someone. Ashley laughed at me, as did Kyle. Seriously, you thought it was conditioner? Yeah, they aren't even close to the same consistency.
Because I didn't feel nauseated today, not even once, I feel like I'm at a turning point in my mental health. I'm hoping, anyway. Because I have a ton of work to accomplish before the end of the month. Wish me luck!
In the last few weeks, I've noticed my brain power slipping. I knew the stress of finishing a short semester and beginning a new semester, combined with several new projects and a few presentations that must be finished prior to our Aug. 30th student start date, was getting to me. And then I got sick. Really sick, like laying on the couch whenever I wasn't at work sick. Not able to work out or sit up (sometimes) or do adequate research for my term paper. But I did not know just how much my cognitive ability was affected until this week.
Wednesday morning, I was finishing up washing my hair, spreading some conditioner on it, when a realization hit me. For weeks, I'd had this little inkling that something was amiss with my brand new conditioner, the one I'd gone out one evening for the sole reason of picking up. It didn't feel right on my hair or in my hands as I got ready to apply it. In truth, it hadn't felt right for weeks, I realized, but I hadn't had the energy to think about why.
And the why, folks, is pretty important and indicative of the sad spectacle of my life right now.
It's shampoo.
That's what the bottle says. The bottle that I picked up in the store and examined very closely because I was so tired when I bought it. I remember doing that. I remember saying -- whew, good thing I double-checked that container. I know right now I could have picked up the wrong thing. But I did anyway because my mind isn't processing at an adequate speed.
Upon retrospect, it became clear that I've been double shampooing and leaving conditioner off of my hair every other day for almost three weeks. No wonder it's been feeling so strange and has been really hard to comb through.
Because it was so embarrassing, I had to tell someone. Ashley laughed at me, as did Kyle. Seriously, you thought it was conditioner? Yeah, they aren't even close to the same consistency.
Because I didn't feel nauseated today, not even once, I feel like I'm at a turning point in my mental health. I'm hoping, anyway. Because I have a ton of work to accomplish before the end of the month. Wish me luck!
11 June 2010
Is someone trying to tell us something?
You decide. Your comments and suggestions of who or what is going on are welcome.
It's been a series of small things that are driving us insane. One full week of this, and we're not really sure what to do.
Started with the fact that we were very tight on time and we found:
- 14 people in line inside the pharmacy, and
- 5 in the outside drive-thru area. We'd already turned in the prescription and just needed to pick it up. Should have taken 5 minutes max; it took 25.
We were supposed to pick up the pizzas for dinner for the whole fam before graduation that evening in Rochester, but we also can't speed because of the number of moving traffic violations that exist between us. We encountered on the road:
- 2 combines driving 15 mph on different highways,
- 1 giant Ford truck hauling a flatbed of 6 smashed cars and going 20 mph,
- 5 people going significantly (5-10 mph) under the speed limit on a highway.
We ended up grabbing the pizzas, only 10 minutes late, and heading over to the party. Graduation itself was in a hot gymnasium on bleachers, so there's nothing fun about that. However, we sat behind:
- 1 very broad-backed and wide (front-to-back) old man with poor posture who took up at least half of the space behind him designed for someone's legs. We had to sit sideways for the entirety of the hour+ long event.
The next day, we planned to spend with the Bartons. It was lovely--a great pancake breakfast at the new fire station, seeing an old friend, Kyle got a tour of the pristine building, etc. We were having a great time. Then, Kyle and Allen tried to install Kyle's new (to him) emergency personnel lights on his rear view mirror. Ended up with:
- Allen's installed perfectly, and Kyle realizing he needs an electrician in order to get his hooked up. 2-3 hours wasted.
We arrived home exhausted that evening. In the middle of that night (1:45am), Kyle gets a call on his walkie that we're having bad storms and tornadoes in the area. He headed off to the fire station and I headed over to the library...all by myself. Terrifying place in the middle of the night. And then:
- the electricity went out on my way back from the bathroom...alone, dark basement, torrential downpour and possible tornado outside, huge building...terrified.
After returning and falling into bed at 4am, we decided to see when the alarm went off if we could drag ourselves to church.
- We woke up at 12:30p. Half of the day gone, and obviously no church. Although this might seem like a brilliant Sunday of rest, it was foreshadowing of the things to come.
But Sunday was cleaning day, and we both enjoy that. As we began the process of cleaning our tiny house, Kyle got out the vacuum and:
- 1 cat peed on the carpet b/c he's scared of the vacuum.
In the process of cleaning that nast up, we tried to move cat to a new place in the house, away from the vacuum, he:
- freaked out while being held, clawed Kyle's chest through his shirt and tore holes in Kyle's shirt: twice.
I think after a close call with a nervous break down, we called it a day. I can't remember the beginning of the week. I don't remember anything else going wrong until yesterday...
Kyle was home sick from work and so slept in. When he finally got up (I'd been up for hours doing school work), we went for a lovely walk in the perfect 70 degree sunny weather. When we return we saw:
- 1 cat rubbing his furry little behind all over the carpet and then on the lower level of the coffee table. When he got up, we saw there was...well...poo hanging in his fur back there.
This was very disturbing. Between myself holding the cat and Kyle armed with some scissors and paper towel, we fixed that situation, and then crawled around the house smelling the carpet. Thankfully, the poo was dried, and the only place is got was the lower part of the coffee table. That was quickly disinfected.
Shortly thereafter, Kyle began dishes, and I helped intermittently as I was reading more articles for school. When I sat back down in the computer room, I heard a commotion in the kitchen--"What is going on with our lives. Honey...NO!" I kept calling out to ask what was the matter. No answer for two whole minutes. I walked around the corner to find:
- 1 husband squatting on the floor attempting to capture a flood of water pouring out from under the sink. And I hear, in answer to my previously unanswered request for information: "FLOOD, honey, FLOOD!"
I grabbed some towels and we mopped everything up, had to move the fridge, brought out our two fans and just stood there, utterly confused. We called the maintenance guy, who has a day job, and thus could not attend this problem until after 5pm.
I left for class around 3:30, praying Kyle would have a break from these moments of absolutely unnecessary insanity. I found out later (after class around 9pm) that a few minutes after I left, while Kyle started a load of laundry (the towels from the floor mopping), he heard gurgling in the kitchen and entered to find:
- 2 sinks filling up with nasty water. (At this point, we don't even know if those kitchen sink pipes are sound.)
He called the maintenance guy again, and stopped the washer. After some applications of drain-o, the maintenance guy left saying--let me know if it works. Well, it didn't.
And now we have:
- One 1/2-washed load of dirty towels steeping in foul water, unable to drain, and it's a Friday.
- Two kitchen sinks that don't work, or, they do, but they will flood.
And it's the weekend. Cooking? Washing dishes? Washing clothing (I'm desperately in need of at least one load of laundry)? Anything? I don't even KNOW what to do with this.
So tell me what you think is happening to us...
18 May 2010
Life at Breakneck speed
I had great intentions of posting more pictures of Quincy, since he is the new great diversion in our lives. He has really settled down with us in the last two weeks, and while I was kind of lamenting the fact, early on, that he wasn't a lap cat, he is developing some of those traits.
When I am up reading late at night (more on that later), he will sit on my feet or touching my leg and pass out. He is so very cute when he sleeps. Last night, as Kyle and I huddled around the computer to catch up on Lost, he jumped into my lap and fell asleep in a very strange position, but obviously he felt comfortable enough. He is so very fluffy, and loves to stretch out his arms and legs completely and lay on his back, exposing his very white and fluffy belly. We love having him here and just yesterday I realized that I was over the cat hair on my work clothes. We're still working on Kyle.
Last Tuesday (11th), I began a three-year journey. No, it's not as significant as Leslie's 6 month hike, but this journey is exciting for me nonetheless. Grad school has come upon me once again. And this time, I'm pursuing a degree which brings me great joy, in addition to educating me. I'm hoping to get a Master's in English Literature from the University of Indianapolis in May 2013. That's a long time from now, but I know it will fly past, as I'm still working full-time and taking classes part-time. My first class, of course as I've described it before, is about Jane Austen, and while that puts many people off, I'm loving it. As of today (1 week into this intensive course), I've watched 2 films (1996-Emma, and 2010-BBC, Emma mini-series), read the novel (Emma), and read several chapters in a book about film and literature, as well as several other essays. I've also written two essays. By the end of this week, I will have consumed another film (Clueless--which is an Emma adaptation--I did not know this), written another essay, and digested about four more articles. It's a hairy pace. But I'm coping (barely) and Kyle has been very generous and understanding. I'm looking forward to my summer of no work and only class. That will be fun!
In the midst of my start of classes last week, I also had a couple of vet runs with the cat, an all-day conference at Purdue, an evening out with friends to celebrate an anniversary, and Bible study. Also, we had to give up one car for a few days while it's in the shop, meaning I'm begging rides off of all my obliging friends here in U-town. Rides to work, rides home for lunch, rides back to work, rides to workout and then home from there. It's humbling to have to ask for help, and enlightening to see how quickly and easily people want to help. This week my tune says: I LOVE PEOPLE! Now that's something different, isn't it?
If you don't hear from me much this month, my advance apologies. I'm trying to keep my head above water until the first of June. But, so far, I'm enjoying my new life: one with a cat at home and literature in my everyday diet!
24 March 2010
Celebrating life
This week has been, well, emotional. On one hand, it is finally Spring, and for me that is cause for joy, an intensely happy emotion. We're leaving on vacation in a few days for a long break. A much-needed one, and we're heading to a sunny, warm climate, which brings even greater joy.
On the other hand, though, I'm plagued by grief and unanswerable questions. A very beautiful, courageous, and outstanding woman, mother, friend, and wife passed away last Friday. She was intricately connected to my family in multiple ways, even to the place where I currently work. What I'm saying is her influence is far-reaching, as is the weight of her death.
Her journey was wrought with pain and suffering these last four years, and so it is merciful that her body is now fully restored; she is whole and free in heaven with Jesus. No one will deny the graciousness of that. She was courageous in the face of debilitating illness, and her gorgeous smile and sparkling eyes lasted when other body functions were lost. But this loss is so great for this community, for any and all who knew her. She was what I would call, somewhat cornily but nonetheless wholeheartedly, a faith warrior, a total servant.
Attending the Celebration of Life services for her today, I walked away with a very hard question, one that I don't know can be answered by a person. It's not as simple as Why? because I know that question is never the right one to ask. The answer there will always be because we live in a fallen and imperfect world.
As Christians, we often hear people say when a beloved Christian passes away that God will use the witness of their life and death, perhaps, to His glory. As I listened to the wonderful memories of this fun-loving lady, I kept coming back to this thought and subsequent question:
Her life was such a living ministry to those around her. As one of her friends said, "To know her, was to love her;" it was impossible for it to be otherwise. How, then, can God be glorified more in her death than He was in her life?
I find that so hard to imagine, as her life was filled to brimming over with her love and devotion to Jesus, and thus to others. I know it is so hard to see outside of this pain, but how could more good come from this?
I long, as many do, to see what God will make from this tragedy. I truly long for His glory to be shown, for people to be drawn to them because of Jan's life. I want to see that, perhaps to saysee, good has come. That seems pretty selfish. But then, most of our feelings and emotions are selfish right now. We don't wish her back in the state that she left. That would be cruel and unjust. But we miss her. We loved her company, her sense of humor; we were loved by her through her love of Christ. And that, my friend, is no small love.
The words shared at the services today were beautiful, recalling her tremendous character in every facet. I found myself drawn to an illustration her husband shared...an image he's been considering amidst his pain, one he longs to understand fully, though as yet, he does not. If life, more specifically suffering, is a tapestry, a work of art, quite often the parts we see of it in daily life are the reverse side. The part that looks like tangled threads, knots, and chaos. It's not pleasing to the eye; it's almost unpleasant. But what if we could see the other side, the true picture, the beautiful work of art that has been made. Would we approach these trials, this suffering, this confusing life of pain, differently? What would that image tell us about God, about ourselves and who we are in His plan?
This may all be quite incomprehensible. I'm still processing. Watching friends and family grieve for someone is hard, and because I live far away, today was my first time being able to process it all with others. Knowing that children, in the twenties, have lost a mother is heart-wrenching. When they are friends, it's devastating. But we do have hope, and Jan's wish would be, as her husband said, that people come to know Jesus through this, that people seek after Him and devote their lives to Him because of all of her incredible testimony and courage in hardship.
That is our hope.
19 January 2010
January and the great start to 2010
It's hard to know where to begin. I keep thinking about posting and find myself unsure how to approach all that's happened in the last fifteen days.
Even now, I wonder: should I write a list? Narrative? All the details, only some? How much do you, oh readers, care about knowing?
I guess I'll start off with some good news. Saturday, after two full days of searching, Kyle found a car. We got a deal, which makes us feel better, and hope to be able to finish everything and pick it up by this weekend.
Why would Kyle need to buy a car, you might ask. Well, interesting question. Maybe because his car was totaled in a multiple car accident on a very dangerous highway that he travels extensively every week. Maybe it's because the road became pure ice out of nowhere and kept everyone from stopping. Yes, that's what happened.
No one was hurt in their particular, which was a miracle, and our insurance company has actually been fantastic and timely on everything from dealing with the salvage to getting us a rental car to the payout for the heap of trash formerly known as Aramis (think The Three Musketeers). That's a relief.
There are still some loose threads to tie up from the accident, which won't be fun and are potentially costly, but I'm choosing to not dwell on them now.
The morning after the accident, my car battery was dead. Just dead. The cold had finally gotten to poor Sophia.
In other news, January began as the Month of Glasses for Lana. Scary thought, approaching it, but it has turned out not all bad. I now live in a world with very blurry edges and always blurry words. It makes me feel pretty isolated, as I can't readily recognize faces approaching me from across the library or campus. I can't read for run, because letters appear doubled or shaded or wobbly at all times. I had anticipated bad headaches and am happy to announce that they have not shown their ugly faces. I've only had two headaches, and I think it was more related to my low blood sugar rather than to the distorted images my brain is receiving from my eyes.
Why is Lana wearing glasses, one might ask. Another very astute question.
I've mentioned before about my poor eyesight and my strong desire to have surgery that will enable me to be independent from glasses and contacts. Well, we have a consultation / eye exam to occur a week from Thursday that will let us know if 1) I am currently a candidate for the surgery; 2) I will ever be a candidate for the surgery; 3) I need to plop in my contacts and move on with life because this is, also, something that is not meant for me.
I'm hopeful for positive results, but at the same time, I'm not betting on it. There are so many criteria that must be met, and it's pretty difficult for me to imagine I align with them all. Plus, financially, I'm not sure we could swing it now, with the month of January being the most expensive car month we've ever had. I had looked forward to entering grad school in May with new eyes, without worrying about dry contacts and eyes. But, if the timing is off, perhaps I can look forward to the surgery another year, another school break.
And that's how 2010 began for us. Fast, scary, crazy, and unpleasant. But things are looking up, so we aren't terribly discouraged. But now you know why I haven't written since Dec. 29th, and why I've been at a loss for words.
Will post pictures of the car when we pick it up!
Even now, I wonder: should I write a list? Narrative? All the details, only some? How much do you, oh readers, care about knowing?
I guess I'll start off with some good news. Saturday, after two full days of searching, Kyle found a car. We got a deal, which makes us feel better, and hope to be able to finish everything and pick it up by this weekend.
Why would Kyle need to buy a car, you might ask. Well, interesting question. Maybe because his car was totaled in a multiple car accident on a very dangerous highway that he travels extensively every week. Maybe it's because the road became pure ice out of nowhere and kept everyone from stopping. Yes, that's what happened.
No one was hurt in their particular, which was a miracle, and our insurance company has actually been fantastic and timely on everything from dealing with the salvage to getting us a rental car to the payout for the heap of trash formerly known as Aramis (think The Three Musketeers). That's a relief.
There are still some loose threads to tie up from the accident, which won't be fun and are potentially costly, but I'm choosing to not dwell on them now.
The morning after the accident, my car battery was dead. Just dead. The cold had finally gotten to poor Sophia.
In other news, January began as the Month of Glasses for Lana. Scary thought, approaching it, but it has turned out not all bad. I now live in a world with very blurry edges and always blurry words. It makes me feel pretty isolated, as I can't readily recognize faces approaching me from across the library or campus. I can't read for run, because letters appear doubled or shaded or wobbly at all times. I had anticipated bad headaches and am happy to announce that they have not shown their ugly faces. I've only had two headaches, and I think it was more related to my low blood sugar rather than to the distorted images my brain is receiving from my eyes.
Why is Lana wearing glasses, one might ask. Another very astute question.
I've mentioned before about my poor eyesight and my strong desire to have surgery that will enable me to be independent from glasses and contacts. Well, we have a consultation / eye exam to occur a week from Thursday that will let us know if 1) I am currently a candidate for the surgery; 2) I will ever be a candidate for the surgery; 3) I need to plop in my contacts and move on with life because this is, also, something that is not meant for me.
I'm hopeful for positive results, but at the same time, I'm not betting on it. There are so many criteria that must be met, and it's pretty difficult for me to imagine I align with them all. Plus, financially, I'm not sure we could swing it now, with the month of January being the most expensive car month we've ever had. I had looked forward to entering grad school in May with new eyes, without worrying about dry contacts and eyes. But, if the timing is off, perhaps I can look forward to the surgery another year, another school break.
And that's how 2010 began for us. Fast, scary, crazy, and unpleasant. But things are looking up, so we aren't terribly discouraged. But now you know why I haven't written since Dec. 29th, and why I've been at a loss for words.
Will post pictures of the car when we pick it up!
18 October 2009
October 18th...a day to remember
It began as another typical weekend day. We overslept because of our ridiculously comfortable bed combined with a down comforter from heaven. I expected nothing spectacular.
Then, while entering some financial information into our monthly budget sheet, I had a HUGE realization. Today was the day we would become debt free.
I believe we began addressing the debt issue on a strategic basis in January of this year. That would mean that in 10 months we were able to knock out debt equal to one of our yearly salaries. This exceeds my imaginative powers.
We could not have done it alone. My sister coached us along, provided a fully-formulated worksheet into which we could plug our own financial state and see how to budget appropriately. My brother and his wife provided the reading material that would change our lives: Dave Ramsey's Total Money Makeover. I know Ramsey seems like a fad, but let me tell you that his plan is hard. It's painful. It's not fun, and yet it is 100% logical and in some ways fool-proof. If you follow what he says, you will find that the weight of your debt lifts quickly.
I also believe that when you are faithful to God with your resources, He will bless that. Thus, we had a great deal of one-time extra money come in this year, thousands of dollars, that also made this possible.
I'm in awe of this process, of how quickly (though at times it seemed long and impossible) we could create this budget, follow the guidelines, even managing a small vacation and some fun weekends with friends, and come out on top in less than a year. Praise the Lord!
To anyone who is discouraged about debt or money issues...I do highly recommend giving Dave Ramsey's solution a try. Even if you despise him, try it and see. You can even modify it to fit your lifestyle, to an extent. We didn't do the cash system because we don't have a bank nearby. We use a credit card, but we pay off every thing as soon as it shows up. We use a debit card. But we do keep track of everything we spend and we've spent less than we would have had we not wanted so badly to get out of debt.
Thanks to our parents and grandparents for the help they provided, and the examples of living responsibly and within one's means. Thanks to our friends and siblings who understood when we couldn't do fun things because of cost. We still can't, actually, because now it's time to save for a house. Bigger and better things await!
It's a big day. Hard to fully comprehend. My school is paid for and when I start school again this summer, we can pay in cash! God is good!
Then, while entering some financial information into our monthly budget sheet, I had a HUGE realization. Today was the day we would become debt free.
I believe we began addressing the debt issue on a strategic basis in January of this year. That would mean that in 10 months we were able to knock out debt equal to one of our yearly salaries. This exceeds my imaginative powers.
We could not have done it alone. My sister coached us along, provided a fully-formulated worksheet into which we could plug our own financial state and see how to budget appropriately. My brother and his wife provided the reading material that would change our lives: Dave Ramsey's Total Money Makeover. I know Ramsey seems like a fad, but let me tell you that his plan is hard. It's painful. It's not fun, and yet it is 100% logical and in some ways fool-proof. If you follow what he says, you will find that the weight of your debt lifts quickly.
I also believe that when you are faithful to God with your resources, He will bless that. Thus, we had a great deal of one-time extra money come in this year, thousands of dollars, that also made this possible.
I'm in awe of this process, of how quickly (though at times it seemed long and impossible) we could create this budget, follow the guidelines, even managing a small vacation and some fun weekends with friends, and come out on top in less than a year. Praise the Lord!
To anyone who is discouraged about debt or money issues...I do highly recommend giving Dave Ramsey's solution a try. Even if you despise him, try it and see. You can even modify it to fit your lifestyle, to an extent. We didn't do the cash system because we don't have a bank nearby. We use a credit card, but we pay off every thing as soon as it shows up. We use a debit card. But we do keep track of everything we spend and we've spent less than we would have had we not wanted so badly to get out of debt.
Thanks to our parents and grandparents for the help they provided, and the examples of living responsibly and within one's means. Thanks to our friends and siblings who understood when we couldn't do fun things because of cost. We still can't, actually, because now it's time to save for a house. Bigger and better things await!
It's a big day. Hard to fully comprehend. My school is paid for and when I start school again this summer, we can pay in cash! God is good!
16 September 2009
I did it...finally.
Well, first, I turned 27. Which was a surprise to one of my coworkers who, bless her heart, said, "Oh, I thought at MOST you were 25." I appreciate that coming from her age of 23! But then suddenly I remembered how old 27 sounded when I was 23. Four years is a long time in that stage of life.
In more exciting news. Today, I submitted my application to grad school.
Wait, you say, don't you already have a master's degree.
Why, yes. Yes, I do. But I've always wanted this particular master's, or, I should say, to continue this particular interest of mine academically. And now I'm almost sure I can!
This will also be a boost to me professionally. It is typical (and oft required) that academic librarians have a master's in a second and unrelated field to Library Science. If you want details, I can explain it to you. It's too long and complicated for a post.
The plan is to start next summer, which for the school at which I applied means May (in 8 months). Each semester (and each of the two summer sessions), I will take one course. This is a stipulation from my job. I can't really do my work to the best of my ability if I'm trying to focus in three or four directions. Because this degree is encouraged, yay required, by my employer, they are providing me four hours per week from my standard 40 to get to my class. Which will be necessary, as the school is 1.5 hours away from where I live, work, and eat.
It's always exciting to launch into something you're passionate about, also a little scary to take the timid step of faith believing that this is the right course of action. For me, for my career, for us, for our family, etc. I've lately been struggling with the question, Can I even cut it anymore in an academic classroom setting? It's only been three years, but can School Lana be compatible with Married Lana. Ah, that is the question. How to juggle and balance all that my life is now that it was not when I completed undergrad and rocketed through SLIS.
It's also a whole other story to plan to spend three years of your life slugging through a degree that should take 1/2 that time. But this is what's laid before me, and I'm gladly accepting the challenge.
Strange as it sounds, I think classroom challenges are the only type of challenge that I feel equipped and capable of handling.
Guess I'll find out!
In more exciting news. Today, I submitted my application to grad school.
Wait, you say, don't you already have a master's degree.
Why, yes. Yes, I do. But I've always wanted this particular master's, or, I should say, to continue this particular interest of mine academically. And now I'm almost sure I can!
This will also be a boost to me professionally. It is typical (and oft required) that academic librarians have a master's in a second and unrelated field to Library Science. If you want details, I can explain it to you. It's too long and complicated for a post.
The plan is to start next summer, which for the school at which I applied means May (in 8 months). Each semester (and each of the two summer sessions), I will take one course. This is a stipulation from my job. I can't really do my work to the best of my ability if I'm trying to focus in three or four directions. Because this degree is encouraged, yay required, by my employer, they are providing me four hours per week from my standard 40 to get to my class. Which will be necessary, as the school is 1.5 hours away from where I live, work, and eat.
It's always exciting to launch into something you're passionate about, also a little scary to take the timid step of faith believing that this is the right course of action. For me, for my career, for us, for our family, etc. I've lately been struggling with the question, Can I even cut it anymore in an academic classroom setting? It's only been three years, but can School Lana be compatible with Married Lana. Ah, that is the question. How to juggle and balance all that my life is now that it was not when I completed undergrad and rocketed through SLIS.
It's also a whole other story to plan to spend three years of your life slugging through a degree that should take 1/2 that time. But this is what's laid before me, and I'm gladly accepting the challenge.
Strange as it sounds, I think classroom challenges are the only type of challenge that I feel equipped and capable of handling.
Guess I'll find out!
22 June 2009
A barrage of thoughts...
I've been trying, for days, to develop a good post. I want to entertain, to educate, to encourage with my words here. But it's been a dry spell--creativity is far from me.
My mind is constantly churning thoughts, what-ifs, and scenarios about today, tomorrow, next month, and the next few years. I hate not knowing where I'm going, or what road I'm really even on, and that's precisely how I feel these days. Lost. Wandering...aimlessly.
I know our plans for the next year, even next few years. I know that I'm starting school again a year from now, that it'll take me three years to finish, unless I can bully my way through by cramming my days and nights with classes (like I did with Master's degree #1). I know that we won't be out of debt until the end of next summer, but that this summer's salary will pay for next summer's schooling, so we can make that fly. I know that in doing school this way, I'll be partially reimbursed, and that will remain during my entire 3-year part-time student, full-time employee status. I know that if we move, if we relocate so Kyle's days aren't as exhausting and long, all of this could change. That if we bought a house somewhere--here, there, anywhere--it would or could or may change all these plans. I also know how much can change in a year.
I became engaged a year ago. Now I've been married for 9 months. How'd that happen? Where did the time go?
I was reading over the archives of a friend's blog, someone I haven't contacted since college, but who writes well and, at least in college, shared many appreciations with me, for literature, music, and art. She and her husband had made plans to move to a country in Africa, and as the time neared for them to leave, the organization with which they were going switched their destination. She was lamenting not returning to a nation she loves, and yet remained excited for the simple fact that they were still moving to Africa. A week or so later, the organization actually cut them off. For whatever reason, they were no longer going. Her posts were so full of life, vitality--anger, disappointment, anticipation, almost grief at times. Yet they were so trusting, retaining their desire and ability to trust God would understand their hearts, their wishes to be abroad. I believe they are now somewhere in Southeast Asia. Their path had to change in order to get them to where they needed to be, a different country--a different continent, actually. And it's not like their journey is finished, is it? They might end up back in Africa, the exact country they wished to land in the first time around. Maybe the timing wasn't right on the first pass. Maybe it will be later on. Or maybe they'll love SE Asia more.
I contemplate these things constantly. Where am I supposed to be? What am I supposed to be doing? This? Am I to be here, to be librarianing? Is my restlessness legitimate, or is it just my nature to live unsettled, to long for something different, something better, something fresh? The possibilities are pretty much endless, and I could spend many sleepless nights mulling over what we should or could be doing or going or being. But that's not productive, is it?
I know this year is bound to be tumultuous. And, truth be told, we've adjusted to married life rather well, but that's not the issue anymore for me. Kyle is as much a part of my life now as I am. He's that central to my existence. But I feel imbalanced in myself. Internally. I can't pinpoint it, but I do know that it's there. The scales are tipped, but I don't know which way, or why, or how to fix it. Frustrating, as you can imagine.
I haven't been running as consistently as is needed these days, and I'm wondering if my mental imbalance isn't just a way of telling me to hit the pavement again -- every day -- to do something healthy for my body, which incidentally brings my mind to a better state of being. But what if it's not?
See what I mean? Always questions...never resting. I need to get away from here.
My mind is constantly churning thoughts, what-ifs, and scenarios about today, tomorrow, next month, and the next few years. I hate not knowing where I'm going, or what road I'm really even on, and that's precisely how I feel these days. Lost. Wandering...aimlessly.
I know our plans for the next year, even next few years. I know that I'm starting school again a year from now, that it'll take me three years to finish, unless I can bully my way through by cramming my days and nights with classes (like I did with Master's degree #1). I know that we won't be out of debt until the end of next summer, but that this summer's salary will pay for next summer's schooling, so we can make that fly. I know that in doing school this way, I'll be partially reimbursed, and that will remain during my entire 3-year part-time student, full-time employee status. I know that if we move, if we relocate so Kyle's days aren't as exhausting and long, all of this could change. That if we bought a house somewhere--here, there, anywhere--it would or could or may change all these plans. I also know how much can change in a year.
I became engaged a year ago. Now I've been married for 9 months. How'd that happen? Where did the time go?
I was reading over the archives of a friend's blog, someone I haven't contacted since college, but who writes well and, at least in college, shared many appreciations with me, for literature, music, and art. She and her husband had made plans to move to a country in Africa, and as the time neared for them to leave, the organization with which they were going switched their destination. She was lamenting not returning to a nation she loves, and yet remained excited for the simple fact that they were still moving to Africa. A week or so later, the organization actually cut them off. For whatever reason, they were no longer going. Her posts were so full of life, vitality--anger, disappointment, anticipation, almost grief at times. Yet they were so trusting, retaining their desire and ability to trust God would understand their hearts, their wishes to be abroad. I believe they are now somewhere in Southeast Asia. Their path had to change in order to get them to where they needed to be, a different country--a different continent, actually. And it's not like their journey is finished, is it? They might end up back in Africa, the exact country they wished to land in the first time around. Maybe the timing wasn't right on the first pass. Maybe it will be later on. Or maybe they'll love SE Asia more.
I contemplate these things constantly. Where am I supposed to be? What am I supposed to be doing? This? Am I to be here, to be librarianing? Is my restlessness legitimate, or is it just my nature to live unsettled, to long for something different, something better, something fresh? The possibilities are pretty much endless, and I could spend many sleepless nights mulling over what we should or could be doing or going or being. But that's not productive, is it?
I know this year is bound to be tumultuous. And, truth be told, we've adjusted to married life rather well, but that's not the issue anymore for me. Kyle is as much a part of my life now as I am. He's that central to my existence. But I feel imbalanced in myself. Internally. I can't pinpoint it, but I do know that it's there. The scales are tipped, but I don't know which way, or why, or how to fix it. Frustrating, as you can imagine.
I haven't been running as consistently as is needed these days, and I'm wondering if my mental imbalance isn't just a way of telling me to hit the pavement again -- every day -- to do something healthy for my body, which incidentally brings my mind to a better state of being. But what if it's not?
See what I mean? Always questions...never resting. I need to get away from here.
21 January 2009
Winter Weather is Confusing
Today feels like Spring. Which is depressing because we know it is only late January. We still have February to trudge through, and then March throughout which we hope for Spring, and are yet forced to wait until after Easter.
My soul was able to sing a little today, though, because of the sunshine and relative warmth.
I love that college students decided today is national Coat-is-Optional Day. Just because it feels warmer than usual (which is to say, it's nearly Freezing--32*), they treat it as if it were, truly Spring. Everywhere I turn, students are wearing sweatshirts, sans coats, or t-shirts on the very brave. As if trying to invoke Spring earlier than Nature dictates, their coatlessness is a prayer for relief. It has been very cold this winter.
My soul was able to sing a little today, though, because of the sunshine and relative warmth.
I love that college students decided today is national Coat-is-Optional Day. Just because it feels warmer than usual (which is to say, it's nearly Freezing--32*), they treat it as if it were, truly Spring. Everywhere I turn, students are wearing sweatshirts, sans coats, or t-shirts on the very brave. As if trying to invoke Spring earlier than Nature dictates, their coatlessness is a prayer for relief. It has been very cold this winter.
02 January 2009
A New Year
Just a cute little pic from Xmas to start off.New Year's Eve was incredible. I have never in my life cared much for the holiday. We always watched the ball drop and then went to bed, already clad in our jammies and bathrobes. But this year was incredibly different. In honor of Evan's 29th birthday, he and Emily hosted a smashing party. Beginning with a scrumtrulescent dinner of chuck roast over rice with gravy, green beans, corn bread, and sweet potato casserole, we ate until we were ready to burst. Emily had also created a decorated cake masterpiece (of which I do not have a picture).
The happy, hosting couple.
The delectable spread.Then, we awaited the other party-goers: Matt and Meredith, Jon and Alisha.
Like always, the Gottschalks do it up and do it right. We played Rock Band on the Wii for hours, and then P.E. teacher Alisha devised the most elaborate double-elimination ping pong tournament for everyone there: parents, siblings, spouses, and friends. It ended up that the Gottschalks ruled the table: Leslie won over all, but the final matches included Mom, Evan, Leslie, and myself. No one knew what a stellar ping ponger Mom was. But she demonstrated to all her secret skill. One of my moves even left my opponent on the floor. That was awesome.
The food was plentiful, too, all sorts of chips and dips, cookies and candy from Mom and beverages galore. Evan and Emily are also the proud owners of the most intense board / card game collection know to mankind. When the parents departed at 3:30am, everyone else decided bed sounded good, and instantly all games and snacks were cast aside. That's right, Carol and Steve set the tone for the party. When they left, it died.
I'm really excited for this year. I have no idea what it will bring, but I feel like I'm in a good place to enjoy the ride. They always say the first year is the hardest, and I fully believe "them", whoever they are. But, I also know I have a big God who promises to traverse the path with us, along side us, even. This is great news for me. It might become a very focused year for me, focused on finding out where I fit in this marriage (I've found the part where I'm the wife--I'm talking deeper levels) and how we'll start working through life as a family, as marrieds.
21 December 2008
On entertaining
Not that I'm gifted in this area, nor that it's a favorite pastime, however in the few opportunities I've had to invite people to my home in order to provide some relaxing fun and laughter, I have enjoyed it.
Yesterday afternoon Kyle & I hosted our first joint effort of hosting Game Night, redubbed Game Day since it didn't occur at night. Though several of our friends were unable to join us (Sara & Chris were greatly missed, but we're happy the fam got to meet him and realize how much they love him), those who did come brought their game and stories to share.
Leslie D. drove up and Dereck, Austin, and Voss stopped by from the neighborhood. Kyle was thrilled that the girls were outnumbered this time around, since most of our times with friends (at least around U-town) involve him being outnumbered by the female species. Twice this week I have found myself the great minority, in terms of gender, and my husband has had a lot of fun on both of those occasions (mostly because football and games were the focal points of the evenings).
Games played:
Here's the deal, I don't like entertaining. I don't like being responsible for everyone having fun, but I do so love being with friends and laughing until there are tears or side aches all around. And that's what usually happens with my friends. How lucky am I?!
Yesterday afternoon Kyle & I hosted our first joint effort of hosting Game Night, redubbed Game Day since it didn't occur at night. Though several of our friends were unable to join us (Sara & Chris were greatly missed, but we're happy the fam got to meet him and realize how much they love him), those who did come brought their game and stories to share.
Leslie D. drove up and Dereck, Austin, and Voss stopped by from the neighborhood. Kyle was thrilled that the girls were outnumbered this time around, since most of our times with friends (at least around U-town) involve him being outnumbered by the female species. Twice this week I have found myself the great minority, in terms of gender, and my husband has had a lot of fun on both of those occasions (mostly because football and games were the focal points of the evenings).
Games played:
- Settlers of Catan (2 new converts)
- Blokus
- Mad Gab
- chips and salsa
- Dereck's apple pie a la mode
- bacon, ham, and cheese casserole (from Alaina)
Here's the deal, I don't like entertaining. I don't like being responsible for everyone having fun, but I do so love being with friends and laughing until there are tears or side aches all around. And that's what usually happens with my friends. How lucky am I?!
01 December 2008
Here it is
It's begun.
The winter rainy, snowy, slushy, slippery-slidy mess of precipitation. The cold. The bone-chilling wind.
My bones hate winter. In nearly every joint, I feel the cold. I woke up yesterday and my big toe was swollen, red, and hurt in a way I have never experienced before. It reminded me of my Dad's arthritic toe, and I kept saying, "no. no. it can't be arthritis." Officially, I've never been diagnosed with arthritis, but I'm fairly certain it is the culprit for my painful joints, my swelling fingers in the winter.
Twice over the holiday, I found myself shaking my hand as if to make the pain go away, and asking, "Is it supposed to rain tomorrow?" Both times, I found out that, indeed, it was to snow. My skill as a human barometer has surely made my husband proud.
I'm blessed this year to have someone who will clear off my windshield when he goes to work at 6am, so that it's much easier for me to get to work on time. To have someone who can shovel the driveway when it gets really bad, someone who loves winter and snow. Someone who will pray for my poor toe, when I'm in too much pain to think of it. A little perspective, you know, can do wonders.
The winter rainy, snowy, slushy, slippery-slidy mess of precipitation. The cold. The bone-chilling wind.
My bones hate winter. In nearly every joint, I feel the cold. I woke up yesterday and my big toe was swollen, red, and hurt in a way I have never experienced before. It reminded me of my Dad's arthritic toe, and I kept saying, "no. no. it can't be arthritis." Officially, I've never been diagnosed with arthritis, but I'm fairly certain it is the culprit for my painful joints, my swelling fingers in the winter.
Twice over the holiday, I found myself shaking my hand as if to make the pain go away, and asking, "Is it supposed to rain tomorrow?" Both times, I found out that, indeed, it was to snow. My skill as a human barometer has surely made my husband proud.
I'm blessed this year to have someone who will clear off my windshield when he goes to work at 6am, so that it's much easier for me to get to work on time. To have someone who can shovel the driveway when it gets really bad, someone who loves winter and snow. Someone who will pray for my poor toe, when I'm in too much pain to think of it. A little perspective, you know, can do wonders.
20 November 2008
T-day 2008
Some years I've found it difficult to think about things I'm thankful for during the holidays. I know that sounds horribly evil and pessimistic, but living in a decade of pure darkness tends to create patterns of thinking, patterns of emotions, that can be extremely hard to dismiss.
I looked at the calendar yesterday and discovered that Thanksgiving Day, which is one week from this very day, falls on November 27th. That date, of course, just happens to be my two month wedding anniversary. Kyle and I couldn't believe it's already been two months, despite the fact that we also feel like we've been married forever. What was my life before he was in it? Shouldn't I be able to remember a year ago? Because that's the point at which he wasn't present in my life.
Here is a small list of things that have brought a tremendous amount of joy to my life this year:
But how can any of that weigh against the joy I feel every day when I live in the closest version of God's love that is humanly possible to experience? I tell you, it can't hold a candle to the goodness that surrounds me.
So, this Thanksgiving, I toast to a good year. To love and life as I have never known. To the unending irritations and frustrations that are bound to come out of being married. But to family. To friends who have become my family. To those I love, wherever you are. This is to you.
I looked at the calendar yesterday and discovered that Thanksgiving Day, which is one week from this very day, falls on November 27th. That date, of course, just happens to be my two month wedding anniversary. Kyle and I couldn't believe it's already been two months, despite the fact that we also feel like we've been married forever. What was my life before he was in it? Shouldn't I be able to remember a year ago? Because that's the point at which he wasn't present in my life.
Here is a small list of things that have brought a tremendous amount of joy to my life this year:
- Finding the love of my life
- The endless support (financial and emotional) from both of our families in the crazy-short-engagement / huge-wedding-planning process
- A honeymoon unlike any other I've ever heard of; one that will make a significant contribution to the book I plan to write
- My nieces (numbering 4, now), who honored us by being fantastic flower girls and insta-friends with each other
- My sisters throwing me a fun party and flying home (each bringing various things for me for the wedding) to be a part of our major celebration
- My friendship with Sara, which has grown into one of the closest and deepest I have known, and our vacation in SC
- Being sure on various levels that I walk with a God greater than any tragic or joyous occasion that I have known, or could know; seeing his light, his hand, his guidance, and feeling his approval on choices I have made this year that will impact my life forever
- Living in a community of believers and working with such incredible people in a job I love (despite the monotony of this week)
But how can any of that weigh against the joy I feel every day when I live in the closest version of God's love that is humanly possible to experience? I tell you, it can't hold a candle to the goodness that surrounds me.
So, this Thanksgiving, I toast to a good year. To love and life as I have never known. To the unending irritations and frustrations that are bound to come out of being married. But to family. To friends who have become my family. To those I love, wherever you are. This is to you.
14 October 2008
Because this IS my life
It has been a great while since I have last gone for a morning walk on a Tuesday. Mostly this is due to my insanely hectic schedule since May, but it also has to do with pure laziness, and factors like what I'm about to tell you, which indicate I shouldn't do anything early in the morning.
I was so inspired this week to exercise every day. Alternating days of running and walking is one of my favorite methods of equalizing my mind and my health. So I began Monday with a run and planned to walk Tuesday morning before work at 1pm.
I snoozed for 30 minutes this morning and then finally crawled out of bed and into workout attire. I nearly forgot to put shoes on, I was so out of it.
After opening the front door and kitchen window for some breeze action, I locked the front screen door, knowing that I would leave the back door closed, but unlocked. Walking out the back, I noticed the outdoor light was on as I shut the door. I'll just turn that off now...I reached back for the doorknob and found it securely locked.
I nearly started panicking, but said to myself: Walk it off, Lana. You'll figure out what to do in the next 30 minutes.
I turned away, started my timer-watch, and walked on.
Though I prayed very hard for God to reach down and unlock one of the doors, they were both firmly rooted in place when I returned. I tried to rip open the front screen door, but only managed to bend the metal handle and hurt my already carpal-tunnely wrist. I walked around to the side door in hopes that God had opened the it, but it was distinctly locked.
What to do? What to do?
I remembered a story about Dereck climbing through his kitchen window and I decided to try. The screen and other glass window panes are total crap and I figured if I broke one, it wouldn't be much of a loss. After a minute or so of bending in the screen, I managed to get my fingers behind it enough to unlatch the sides and move it up. At that point, I could fully open the leaky glass storm window. Because there is a strange brick ledge about a foot from the window base, it was a fairly easy maneuver to push myself up and over the sill and onto the counter without breaking off the faucet (a disaster I'd envisioned during my walk, complete with water spraying everywhere and the house flooding). I closed up the window and screen, checked the neighbors' to see if they were watching (no one was), and washed my hands of the grime from breaking in.
I felt like a thief.
It was awesome.
I was so inspired this week to exercise every day. Alternating days of running and walking is one of my favorite methods of equalizing my mind and my health. So I began Monday with a run and planned to walk Tuesday morning before work at 1pm.
I snoozed for 30 minutes this morning and then finally crawled out of bed and into workout attire. I nearly forgot to put shoes on, I was so out of it.
After opening the front door and kitchen window for some breeze action, I locked the front screen door, knowing that I would leave the back door closed, but unlocked. Walking out the back, I noticed the outdoor light was on as I shut the door. I'll just turn that off now...I reached back for the doorknob and found it securely locked.
I nearly started panicking, but said to myself: Walk it off, Lana. You'll figure out what to do in the next 30 minutes.
I turned away, started my timer-watch, and walked on.
Though I prayed very hard for God to reach down and unlock one of the doors, they were both firmly rooted in place when I returned. I tried to rip open the front screen door, but only managed to bend the metal handle and hurt my already carpal-tunnely wrist. I walked around to the side door in hopes that God had opened the it, but it was distinctly locked.
What to do? What to do?
I remembered a story about Dereck climbing through his kitchen window and I decided to try. The screen and other glass window panes are total crap and I figured if I broke one, it wouldn't be much of a loss. After a minute or so of bending in the screen, I managed to get my fingers behind it enough to unlatch the sides and move it up. At that point, I could fully open the leaky glass storm window. Because there is a strange brick ledge about a foot from the window base, it was a fairly easy maneuver to push myself up and over the sill and onto the counter without breaking off the faucet (a disaster I'd envisioned during my walk, complete with water spraying everywhere and the house flooding). I closed up the window and screen, checked the neighbors' to see if they were watching (no one was), and washed my hands of the grime from breaking in.
I felt like a thief.
It was awesome.
24 September 2008
3 days
Today I get to go home and begin the weekend festivities. It shall commence with a family dinner, the likes of which we haven't seen since Christmastime last year. It will be awesome.
Tomorrow is a party with my bridesmaids, and arranging flowers and playing with my dear little Katie.
Friday begins with a massage from my first regular masseuse (I started at 18 with massive back tension problems), then is followed by breakfast with the girls, church decorating, more flower arranging, backyard decorating, perhaps some nails and other relaxing things, the rehearsal in the evening, and then the dinner with a lot of fun people making it in.
Saturday is the day. Kyle & I have to be ready in our get-up for pictures at 11:30am. Oof. That seems early. Considering the prep necessary to make a girl look ready for her wedding.
But I suspect it shall be a lovely day. A lovely weekend.
Can't wait to see many of you there. For those of you who can't join us, we're sorry for that, but do promise pictures sometime.
Today I begin to leave my past behind me for good. Though I won't become a new person, I'm beginning a new life. Which is so very thrilling to me.
Tomorrow is a party with my bridesmaids, and arranging flowers and playing with my dear little Katie.
Friday begins with a massage from my first regular masseuse (I started at 18 with massive back tension problems), then is followed by breakfast with the girls, church decorating, more flower arranging, backyard decorating, perhaps some nails and other relaxing things, the rehearsal in the evening, and then the dinner with a lot of fun people making it in.
Saturday is the day. Kyle & I have to be ready in our get-up for pictures at 11:30am. Oof. That seems early. Considering the prep necessary to make a girl look ready for her wedding.
But I suspect it shall be a lovely day. A lovely weekend.
Can't wait to see many of you there. For those of you who can't join us, we're sorry for that, but do promise pictures sometime.
Today I begin to leave my past behind me for good. Though I won't become a new person, I'm beginning a new life. Which is so very thrilling to me.
22 September 2008
5 days
I shed my first tear today in terms of life-change emotional goodness.
Sara W., my dear, you're words were beautiful.
I'm doing well, and even got quite a bit of actual work done today (for my job, you know).
But, as I told Cara, what I really want is to be home making space for my husband. I want to be home, throwing out my junk, and putting wedding and shower gifts in places that make sense, instead of on all the furniture in the living room. I want to clean off the guest bed, to have places for all of Kyle's things, his books, his movies, his CDs, his clothes, his plethora of coats. I want him to feel at home when we return from our Costa Rican adventure next week, but I'm afraid he'll just go crazy with the chaos that is our home right now.
I hope he knows how much I wish I had energy and time to make space for him. But I just don't. I can't do it.
Sorry, honey.
Not apprehensive. Not sick. Not totally exhausted (though, perhaps, close). Not anxious. Not nervous. Not experiencing cold feet.
Just excited to see my family all together after so long, excited to be adding to my family numbers in several ways, excited to finally get to be with the man I love all the time.
Only five days stand between me and the realization of so many dreams I've had, so many things I've always wanted and never even known. Five days, friends. That is not very long.
Sara W., my dear, you're words were beautiful.
I'm doing well, and even got quite a bit of actual work done today (for my job, you know).
But, as I told Cara, what I really want is to be home making space for my husband. I want to be home, throwing out my junk, and putting wedding and shower gifts in places that make sense, instead of on all the furniture in the living room. I want to clean off the guest bed, to have places for all of Kyle's things, his books, his movies, his CDs, his clothes, his plethora of coats. I want him to feel at home when we return from our Costa Rican adventure next week, but I'm afraid he'll just go crazy with the chaos that is our home right now.
I hope he knows how much I wish I had energy and time to make space for him. But I just don't. I can't do it.
Sorry, honey.
Not apprehensive. Not sick. Not totally exhausted (though, perhaps, close). Not anxious. Not nervous. Not experiencing cold feet.
Just excited to see my family all together after so long, excited to be adding to my family numbers in several ways, excited to finally get to be with the man I love all the time.
Only five days stand between me and the realization of so many dreams I've had, so many things I've always wanted and never even known. Five days, friends. That is not very long.
18 September 2008
A year ago...
Today is the 18th. Yesterday was a Wednesday.
A year ago on Wed., Sept. 19th was Nick's funeral. When I think of him still, my chest constricts a little. On facebook this week, I noticed one of his best friends has a profile picture of several of "the guys". Nick is among them. His smile, the biggest.
A year ago on this day, a Thursday, we had a birthday party at work and I broke down crying in front of all of my coworkers. I didn't understand, saw no hope, couldn't grasp the goodness that was lost to the world in this accident.
My ultimatum to God that week (something I wouldn't recommend doing) was this: "Something good had better come of this...You can't fix it, but you'd better do something."
That attitude obviously reeks of bitterness and grief. I was torn between knowing God is good and seeing the pain of a 4-year-old child now fatherless, a widowed 24-year-old, and the loss of a great man from our small community.
A year later, I still don't know the reason for Nick's death. Maybe there wasn't one. Maybe there is no moral lesson to be learned. Maybe it just was an accident.
But good has come of this tragedy, at least in my life. And that's the confusing and awesome and, at the same time, disturbing part.
You see, in the aftermath of Nick's funeral, a large group of my high school friends, which consisted mostly of guys in the graduating class after mine, spent the afternoon recovering at a local restaurant. Elizabeth and I sat down with some old friends and alternately shared stories and stared in silence.
Kyle W. was among that group, someone I hadn't seen in seven years. He sat at our 4-person table--Elizabeth, Kyle, Adam, and myself. I hadn't thought of him in years. And I guess it was that afternoon that he decided he wanted to get to know me.
Now, I would never presume to think that God wanted it all to happen this way. But I do believe that He orchestrates events, people, and timing so that good can come from evil. I didn't have to run into Kyle for the first time in seven years at Nick's funeral. But I did. And having something great happen in my life that was tied to that deep sadness was very much a part of my healing process.
We can never know the why's. Why is she so sick from that disease? Why did they die so young? Why do people suffer and why, God, am I so tremendously blessed?
We don't have these answers. But "From everyone who has been given much, much will be required" (Luke 12:48). I have been blessed...far beyond anything I could hope to deserve. I deserve nothing.
I don't know why exactly God chose this venue for Kyle and I to meet up after years of not thinking about each other. I don't know why this was the catalyst for our fantastic relationship. I don't know why, only a year later, we're getting married except that God saw a way to use our present circumstances for something great.
The last month has been so stressful and not, as one might presume, because of wedding details. Life and work have been unbelievably overwhelming. Crazy little things--both bad and just annoying--have continually plagued me. Sickness, a car accident, technology issues at work, etc. I have felt attacked and unprepared to deal with all of this.
Till Sara W. reminded me of this passage from our favorite author, Anne Lamott:
"So I've been on the lookout for something wonderful to happen because of this story I heard recently. Carolyn Myss, the medical intuitive who writes and lectures people about why people don't heal, flew to Russia a few years ago to give some lectures. Everything that could go wrong did--flights were canceled or overbooked, connections missed, her reserved room at the hotel given to someone else. She kept trying to be a good sport, but finally, two mornings later, on the train to her conference on healing, she began to whine the man sitting beside her about how infuriating her journey had been thus far. "
"It turned out that this man worked for the Dalai Lama. And he said --gently--that they believe when a lot of things start going wrong all at once, it is to protect something big and lovely that is trying to get itself born--and that this something needs for you to be distracted so that it can be born as perfectly as possible."
(Traveling Mercies, pg. 107)
I'm excited to marry Kyle because I know, for once in my life, that this is the absolute Right thing to do. God has blessed it. Our families have blessed it. And we have no doubts that this is our next step. Everything that I've dealt with, all the hassles and irritations in the last six weeks, have been distractions from this one, most beautiful thing that is about to come into existence.
And so, you can see that I have a lot on my mind. My silence here does not mean that I am floating by on some disillusioned rose-colored cloud. I have a week until I'm married. I don't even know the half of how this is going to greatly impact and change my world. But I'm anxiously awaiting the day, the event, the symbolism and reality of two lives joining up for the rest of their journeys on Earth.
A year ago on Wed., Sept. 19th was Nick's funeral. When I think of him still, my chest constricts a little. On facebook this week, I noticed one of his best friends has a profile picture of several of "the guys". Nick is among them. His smile, the biggest.
A year ago on this day, a Thursday, we had a birthday party at work and I broke down crying in front of all of my coworkers. I didn't understand, saw no hope, couldn't grasp the goodness that was lost to the world in this accident.
My ultimatum to God that week (something I wouldn't recommend doing) was this: "Something good had better come of this...You can't fix it, but you'd better do something."
That attitude obviously reeks of bitterness and grief. I was torn between knowing God is good and seeing the pain of a 4-year-old child now fatherless, a widowed 24-year-old, and the loss of a great man from our small community.
A year later, I still don't know the reason for Nick's death. Maybe there wasn't one. Maybe there is no moral lesson to be learned. Maybe it just was an accident.
But good has come of this tragedy, at least in my life. And that's the confusing and awesome and, at the same time, disturbing part.
You see, in the aftermath of Nick's funeral, a large group of my high school friends, which consisted mostly of guys in the graduating class after mine, spent the afternoon recovering at a local restaurant. Elizabeth and I sat down with some old friends and alternately shared stories and stared in silence.
Kyle W. was among that group, someone I hadn't seen in seven years. He sat at our 4-person table--Elizabeth, Kyle, Adam, and myself. I hadn't thought of him in years. And I guess it was that afternoon that he decided he wanted to get to know me.
Now, I would never presume to think that God wanted it all to happen this way. But I do believe that He orchestrates events, people, and timing so that good can come from evil. I didn't have to run into Kyle for the first time in seven years at Nick's funeral. But I did. And having something great happen in my life that was tied to that deep sadness was very much a part of my healing process.
We can never know the why's. Why is she so sick from that disease? Why did they die so young? Why do people suffer and why, God, am I so tremendously blessed?
We don't have these answers. But "From everyone who has been given much, much will be required" (Luke 12:48). I have been blessed...far beyond anything I could hope to deserve. I deserve nothing.
I don't know why exactly God chose this venue for Kyle and I to meet up after years of not thinking about each other. I don't know why this was the catalyst for our fantastic relationship. I don't know why, only a year later, we're getting married except that God saw a way to use our present circumstances for something great.
The last month has been so stressful and not, as one might presume, because of wedding details. Life and work have been unbelievably overwhelming. Crazy little things--both bad and just annoying--have continually plagued me. Sickness, a car accident, technology issues at work, etc. I have felt attacked and unprepared to deal with all of this.
Till Sara W. reminded me of this passage from our favorite author, Anne Lamott:
"So I've been on the lookout for something wonderful to happen because of this story I heard recently. Carolyn Myss, the medical intuitive who writes and lectures people about why people don't heal, flew to Russia a few years ago to give some lectures. Everything that could go wrong did--flights were canceled or overbooked, connections missed, her reserved room at the hotel given to someone else. She kept trying to be a good sport, but finally, two mornings later, on the train to her conference on healing, she began to whine the man sitting beside her about how infuriating her journey had been thus far. "
"It turned out that this man worked for the Dalai Lama. And he said --gently--that they believe when a lot of things start going wrong all at once, it is to protect something big and lovely that is trying to get itself born--and that this something needs for you to be distracted so that it can be born as perfectly as possible."
(Traveling Mercies, pg. 107)
I'm excited to marry Kyle because I know, for once in my life, that this is the absolute Right thing to do. God has blessed it. Our families have blessed it. And we have no doubts that this is our next step. Everything that I've dealt with, all the hassles and irritations in the last six weeks, have been distractions from this one, most beautiful thing that is about to come into existence.
And so, you can see that I have a lot on my mind. My silence here does not mean that I am floating by on some disillusioned rose-colored cloud. I have a week until I'm married. I don't even know the half of how this is going to greatly impact and change my world. But I'm anxiously awaiting the day, the event, the symbolism and reality of two lives joining up for the rest of their journeys on Earth.
12 September 2008
All in the course of a week
- I discovered an attic in my house (er...well...Kyle did).
- I developed a rare tongue-ear-throat-nose issue that laid me up for a day.
- I took my first sick day of the year (and since passing out in March).
- Had the carpet removed from my kitchen (and soon to be from the bathroom) and replaced with vinyl. Who ever thought I'd be happy to have vinyl?!
- We began rearranging my house to become our house.
- He began moving his stuff in.
- I shared my favorite movie with him.
- Visited the chiropractor twice (to fix the pinched nerve from last week).
- Attended a shower in my honor with people from work: a lovely event.
11 August 2008
An interesting consideration
When I turned four, a lot of changes occurred in my life. We moved from a snug little ranch style house by the elementary school to a huge, 3-story home on the lake with a hilly yard surrounded by a woods and a field. That Christmas of 1986 (see the photo), I received one of the best presents ever: a grey teddy bear (by the tree, near Evan's feet).
Because I was brilliant at four years old, I named him Teddy. Mom even wrote his name "Teddy Bear" in white puffy paint on his beautiful maroon satin bow. Teddy became, from that moment on, my constant companion.
He's traveled with me everywhere--camping trips, church camp, on family visits to cousins in other states, to grandparents', to slumber parties, to overnight sporting events in high school, to college in the dorms, in apartments, the crazy house I lived in during grad school and to my first lone-dwelling. The only time I have forsaken him was my 4-month study-abroad trip to Ireland as a junior in college. I reasoned that he took up too much space in my limited suitcase allowance, so I traded him for an equally grey, yet much tinier hippo that I've had since I was very young, as well.
I realized a few days ago that I'm trading in this cute, cuddly grey stuffed animal for a much larger, more bony, person-sized bedfellow. And I'm not sure what to do with this. It's true, the new model will actually be able to converse with me, rather than providing silent support of my rantings. This is a positive. But consider the converse: the new model moves freely of his own volition. He could punch me in the face while sleeping or push me out of bed if he's angry.
I have a strong desire right now to read The Velveteen Rabbit. I always knew Teddy had some sort of real element, just like the toys in that story. I worry that I'll hurt his feelings if I leave him on the guest bed, or worse yet, put him into storage somewhere.
In talking with a cousin who shared similar sentiments about a stuffed animal, she explained that while she sleeps with her dog less often, she could not fully forsake him once she got married. Once you've slept with a thing for 22 years (as I have), something isn't right about not having that thing present. Twenty-two years. I haven't done anything that long (or longer) except live. It's no wonder I balk at the idea of tossing him aside. And yet...how can I keep him?
* Disclaimer: I realize that in disclosing this element of my life, you may come to believe that I am a sentimental fool. Who sleeps with the same stuffed animal for over twenty years? Who waffles over giving it up when the prospect of sleeping with another person presents itself? Who IS this girl? Well, I am a sentimental fool who doesn't like changes in routine, let alone in life. I'm a girl who assigns meaning to nearly everything by naming it (car, computer, stuffed animals, etc.). I'm a girl who believed in The Velveteen Rabbit and all that it stood for, who places importance on inanimate objects to make life more enjoyable. I'm that girl, the one who discloses too much information by way of her blog, just so her friends and family will keep reading.
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