Becoming a morning person

I'm not quite sure how it happened, but somewhere along the road I became a morning person.  That doesn't mean that I enjoy getting up early all the time or don't complain about being tired when I am up, it just means that I can and often do, function quite effectively in the early hours of the day. 

I used to be able to sleep in.  Some days until the early afternoon.  These days I consider 7 a.m. to be sleeping in, and anything after that is just icing on the cake.  Truth be told, I don't mind getting up early and getting day started, even if my version of "starting" includes nothing more than sipping coffee on the couch and watching Parenthood on Netflix.  I love looking at the clock and realizing I still have 30 minutes before I need to get in the shower.  It's almost like being awake on borrowed time.  Technically my day has started, but it hasn't REALLY started yet. 

During my softball days in college we would have practices at 6 a.m. in the winter.  Mostly filled with conditioning drills, I dreaded these practices more than just about anything, and hearing the alarm go off so early each morning made my stomach clench and my nerves tighten instantly.  So scarred was I by these early morning practices that I made Dean get rid of his alarm clock soon after.....the sound brought back too many awful memories.  But I will say this.  Once practice was over and my body and lungs were more or less recovered, it felt good to walk out of the gym knowing that the worst and probably hardest part of the day was behind me.  It was a relief to know that the hours of my day after classes let out were mine.  I feel the same way today, since 95% of the time I will do my exercising in the morning before work.  I'm no longer running sprints and jogging up and down bleachers, but each workout does have a minor degree of intensity which makes me gasp for breath on occasion.  And while there are moments each day when I contemplate skipping the workout and getting a few more minutes of sleep, I know that the feeling of relief, the feeling of knowing that I've crossed a major item off my to-do list by 6:30 a.m., that feeling is worth getting up early for. 

Between the exercise and the idea of being able to relax a little bit before jumping headfirst into the start of another day, I've come to appreciate mornings as a time when I can do just about whatever I want.  Yes, some days the idea of crawling out of bed when it's still pitch black outside sounds like the hardest thing in the world to do (and it truly can be), but once I'm up, I usually don't regret it.  Once I've managed to swing one leg out of the covers and onto the floor the rest just falls into place.

I'm officially embracing my status as a morning person.  I never thought I would be able to call myself one, but I think I have officially crossed over.  Is this another sign of growing up?  Or just one more way I've managed to learn more about myself and what works best for my lifestyle?  Either way, if it ain't broke, don't fix it.     

Grocery happiness

I made an off the cuff remark after Thanksgiving dinner as my family and I were scoping out all the Black Friday ads.  Naturally, Walmart had an insert in the paper, which led me to comment on how many trips I had made to that particular store in preparation for Thanksgiving.  This inevitably led to a casual conversation about how busy Walmart always is, how shopping there can be totally stressful, how I wished I didn't have to shop there.....the usual Walmart tirade.  

Then, a liberating thought.  If I don't want to shop there, I don't HAVE to shop there. 

Isn't it kind of strange how you can commit yourself to one line of thinking, then have it suddenly dawn on you that it doesn't have to be that way?

Like just about everyone else in the world, I don't want to spend a small fortune at the grocery store.  Case in point, I would do my grocery shopping (and just about every other kind of shopping), at Walmart because, well, that just seemed like the thing to do if you wanted to save money.  But the experience of going to that store every week, sometimes several times a week, was seldom an enjoyable one.  The aisles are always crammed with people, which would always make me feel rushed, and there is just so much STUFF in the store itself that it could be incredibly overwhelming trying to figure out where to find or even just to start looking for a certain item.  Plus, I was never a huge fan of buying my produce at Walmart so I would always end up making an extra trip, usually to Safeway, to take care of that portion of the list.  On the rare occasion that I did break down from exhaustion and buy produce from the mega chain it always seemed just okay to me.  Not great, but okay.  And I know produce can be tricky and is seldom perfect anywhere you buy it, but for the sake of my argument I'm adding it to the list. 

So anyway, I have the liberating thought that went something like this.  If I don't like shopping at Walmart, and if the experience is never entirely satisfactory, why don't I just shop somewhere else?  I live in a small town but Walmart is still, thankfully, not the only grocery shopping option available.  So in an offhand way I made an observation as to whether or not I could go the entire month of December without shopping a Walmart.  I don't think anyone was really listening to me by this point, but I absolutely remember speaking the words out loud, and making a firm decision that I would in fact, not shop at the mega chain for at least the month of December. 

I'm 13 days in, well, more like 20 if you count that last week in November, and I have to say that I'm loving my life without Walmart.  I no longer dread going to the grocery store because it is no longer a stress inducing roller coaster ride.  I'm paying more attention to how much things cost, where as before I was always going on the assumption that whatever I was buying was cheaper because I was buying it at Walmart.  Silly reasoning, I know, but again, once you're in that mindset it can be hard to break out of it.  I'm also making myself pay better attention to the food I have on hand, and looking for dishes that can be made from what I already have available, rather than buying a whole bunch of new items each week.  In a sense, not shopping at Walmart has actually made me a better, more aware shopper.  I'm also exploring new ways to get fresh food, which is why Dean and I are looking into signing up for Bountiful Baskets. 

I didn't expect my break from Walmart to have such an immediate and noticable impact, but I can honestly say that I'm happier without visiting that store once a week.  I still need to crunch the numbers to see if I'm actually saving any money, but even if I'm spending a bit more by not going to that store, I feel like it's worth it.  In my book a person's peace of mind is definitely worth a few extra dollars, and I'm definitely enjoying having mine back as I peruse the grocery store aisles.  This might be one experiment that ends up being a permanent fixture in my life.

*I don't mean to offend anyone who likes shopping at Walmart.  This post is based simply on my experiences and observations, and I realize it won't apply to everyone out there.  Feel free to take it with a grain of salt.

Shut. It. Down.

I'm not sure when I first pin pointed it, but I know that for awhile now I have become very aware of my failing ability to wait.  To only focus on one thing at a time.  To not need to be mindlessly distracted by something at any given moment of the day.

I think it first dawned on me at the grocery store.  I stood there in line behind a couple other people, silently dreading the minutes ahead where I would have nothing to do but.....wait.  So to pass the time I pulled out my phone and checked my email.  Nothing too exciting, so I logged onto Facebook.  Even less thrilling, so I played a word in Words with Friends.  This killed all of about three minutes, so I put my phone away and went back to scanning magazine headlines. With still one person ahead of me in line, I pulled the phone back out and went back to checking email. 

I do this a lot now.  During commercials when I'm watching TV, waiting for something to come out of the oven while I'm cooking dinner, sometimes even sitting at a red light.  And that last one is truly awful because I hate when drivers are paying attention to their phones and not paying attention to traffic lights.  Sadly, at times I am a hypocrite. 

But where does it come from?  This constant need to be distracted?  Is it all part of the new technology smart phone craze, both of which definitely make distraction more readily available, or is there more to it than that?  Personally, I think being able to have instant access to just about everything through our phones is changing the way our minds operate.  We are very much an instant gratification society, and since having to wait for anything is seen as a huge inconvenience these days, I think a lot of us (myself included) simply don't know how to wait anymore.  Even for something as miniscule as checking out at the grocery store. 

Does anyone else out there have a constant need to be distracted?  Is being able to focus completely one one task at a time becoming a thing of the past?  Please, enlighten (or distract....) me with your input.    

Finding time

There was a middle week between Thanksgiving and the first of December where I felt somewhat suspended between two moments in time.  I wasn't yet ready to plunge headfirst into the Christmas season, and yet I wanted to be ready for it when the time came, so I saw this week of "nothingness" as a time to prepare.  To get ready.  To get all my ducks in a row so I could kick ass and take names when the real craziness of the holidays finally descended.

One week later and I feel like my week of nothing wasn't nearly enough time.  Looking at the calendar that continues to fill up with appointments and things to do, I wonder who we can talk to about inserting a few more hours into each day so that every task is able to be completed.  Not that I'm throwing in the towel and admitting defeat, I just wonder exactly how much of this month I'll actually remember, and how much will turn into a complete blur.

I have pondered before about the subject of time, mainly about how there never seems to be enough to go around.  Although I've also discovered that sometimes even when we do have the time to work on something, to cross an item off the to-do list, we choose to skip it over for one reason or another.  Call it lack of motivation or even basic laziness (there is a difference between the two, right?)

Which is why I am choosing  to find time of waiting for it to appear.  I'm mentally adjusting my schedule, my routine, to find the time to make things happen, especially one particular item that always seems to be on the to-do list but seldom manages to get done.  The writing portion of my schedule now has officially been penciled in, at least for a few days out of the week.  Tuesday and Thursday mornings, along with Saturday and/or Sunday (they're sort of wildcards), I will sit myself down in front of the computer and write words.  Hopefully good ones.  Hopefully ones that make sense.  I decided I'm done with waiting for time to present itself, and by taking this route I feel it's only a matter of time before the regularly scheduled writing time becomes more of a habit rather than an item to check off the list first thing in the morning. 

It's true that up until now my writing habits have been rather flaky, and most of the time I do more talking and thinking about writing than I do in the physical act.  But I feel like I was trying to make myself run a marathon without  partaking in any sort of training.  I told myself I could jump right into something without establishing good habits first, not to mention building up my stamina.  So here I am.  It's now 6:30 in the morning and I've been in front of this screen for about 35 minutes, and it feels so great to have spent my morning getting started on this new schedule, on establishing this new routine.  It feels great to have found the time to make this happen, like I'm one blog post closer to moving forward on the rest of my writing projects that have been hanging in limbo for months.

Sometimes in order to do something we don't just need time itself, but the right time.  I believe this could be true.....don't they say timing is everything?         

On Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving doth approach in exactly two weeks.  The day when we do nothing but watch football, give thanks, stuff our face, and prepare our shopping lists for the madness of Black Friday.  This year marks a milestone in the history of Thanksgiving because it is officially mine and Dean's first year hosting the food-centered holiday in our home.  In my mind, this is something of a rite of passage to officially being an adult.  Hosting Thanksgiving dinner is no small task, at least it isn't in my mind.  Considering this is the biggest food holiday of the year, and considering I've never made a Thanksgiving meal before, let's just say I'm kind of feeling the pressure. 

Here's the thing.  I actually enjoy cooking, and I think it's something I'm getting better at.  I am not afraid to try new things, but I'm also not one for long, drawn out recipes.  I like to get things done quickly, and while multitasking is usually one of my strong suits, sometimes in the kitchen it's best if I only focus on one thing at a time.  The good news is that Dean and I have already made a practice turkey, because there was no way in hell I was going to have my first ever turkey be made on the day of Thanksgiving, and said practice turkey was DELICIOUS!  He was only eight pounds so it didn't take him too long to bake, but in my opinion we made one fantastic bird.  And we stuffed him....which was also a little piece of heaven.  So I'm not exactly nervous about the turkey, I'm more or less nervous about everything else that is included in the meal, and having everything be ready to serve at more or less the same time.  With one oven and not a lot of counter space this is something I'm starting to have nightmares about.  Oh, and then there's the fact that I don't have a lot of pie baking experience.....perhaps that is something I should practice this weekend?

All in all I keep telling myself everything will come together, and I'm going to try my best not to turn into a stress head. Instead, I just want to make my way through the day enjoying the company of my family and the wonderful smells that will be taking over my house.  I have ordered more place settings of our wedding china, including the matching gravy boat, I'm in the process of getting some nice new serving dishes, and I have been upgrading my fall decorations to reflect what I hope appears to be a sophisticated, simple feel.  I'm a firm believer in creating appropriate atmospheres, and have become slightly obsessed with decorating elements.....not that I can afford to go all out or anything. 

As I mentioned up above, the whole Thanksgiving thing just feels so adult.  All my life the major holidays have been spent at home on the farm, except for two Thanksgivings that were spent in Hawaii and New Mexico.  It still seems strange to me to think of having a holiday up here, because while this is my home, in my mind I still consider Touchet my "real home."  Apparently, even though I am an adult, I am still growing up bit by bit, and I see this Thanksgiving as another milestone on that journey. 

 

On drinking

Okay, first things first.  The election is over......finally!  Say goodbye to all the commercials, polls, speculative news stories, and updates on campaign stops.  The results are in and even though we have to listen to a lot of people bitch and moan about the results (I may abstain from Facebook for awhile just to avoid that scene), what's done is done and we can finally move on.  This is high on my list of what I'm thankful for as we approach the Thanksgiving holiday. 

But on a slightly different note, I've been thinking off and on about drinking and how it plays a part in my life.  The author of a blog that I read on a fairly consistent basis, Aidan Donnelley Rowley of Ivy League Insecurities, has been blogging about her year without wine, and her posts got me thinking about my own drinking habits and what would happen (or not happen, maybe?) if I just.....stopped.   Drinking for me has always been mainly a social thing and a weekend thing, although there is the occasional beer or glass of wine after a particularly stressful work day.  One of the reasons I often abstain from drinking during the week is because, and this might sound lame, it makes me so darn tired!  Seriously, if I have a glass of wine (or two) at the end of the day, I am lucky if I can stay awake past  9 p.m.  It usually knocks me right out, probably because I was stressed and tired to begin with before the alcohol took effect.  Vicious cycle, am I right?

In college I was a pretty stellar drinker.  And I mean that in the sense that I was able to go out, drink, stay up late, and still be more or less functioning the next morning.  I rarely got sick, and even when I did my hangovers weren't all that terrible.  Fast forward about five years and this is no longer the case.  If I do one night of heavy partying these days I can pretty much write off the entire next day because I will be tired, grouchy, possibly nauseous, and feeling just all around awful.  In a nutshell: I can't bounce back nearly as quickly as I used to.  

I wouldn't go so far as to say that I have to be drinking to have a good time, but regardless of that the fact remains that when I go out, when there is some kind of social gathering, alcohol is usually involved.  It isn't always an out and out rager, but drinks of some kind are almost always in the picture.  Going out, whether it be to a friend's house, to dinner with my husband, whatever the occasion might be, usually entails a drink.  And I almost always partake in the drinking because, well, it's fun, and because it can usually create a more festive environment. 

Except, of course, when it doesn't.  We've all been in that situation before when you're drinking with friends, everyone is laughing and having a blast, then in the blink of an eye people are yelling or getting confrontational, and it's hard to tell what exactly happened to get you from point A to point B.  Nothing can kill a good time quicker than something like this.  As a witness, I usually want the floor to just open up and swallow me whole, rather than risk getting dragged in to some pointless, drunken argument.  Ever see two people try to discuss politics when they're drunk?  I did that for about three hours one night and can honestly say I would rather go to the dentist every day for a week than sit through that again.  And I hate the dentist, just to put that statement in perspective. 

But this whole drinking thing isn't even just about being drunk.....at least not entirely.  I've noticed that lately I don't really feel the desire to drink because of the way it tends to makes me feel.  I'm less focused, I get headaches, I'm more inclined to eat bad food, and overall it just demotivates me, which is a feeling that I really hate.  It also causes me to sleep terribly, and I'll often wake up in the middle of the night multiple times with terrible cramps in my calves.  Again, this doesn't happen all the time, but is becoming more and more prevalent. 

Plus, and again, this might sound silly, I don't want alcohol to be a good time crutch.  I don't want to always have to depend on having a drink to have a good time, or feel like I'm having a good time.  I have become so much more aware of how my state of mind affects any given situation, and sometimes being social without that drink in my hand makes me feel, well, lacking.  We all love that liquid courage, right?

I don't pose these questions because I am against drinking, or because I feel like I'm an alcoholic, but this is the first time I've ever really thought about drinking and how it fits into my life, not to mention how it makes me feel on a whole.  And then that little thought creeps into my head......what would it be like to just stop?  To give up the weekend drinks and the occasional weeknight indulgences?  Would I even notice?  Would I even care?  Would I still be able to have a good time by simply not worrying about the fact that I didn't have a drink?  Even for as little as I drink, the thought of giving it up completely gives me some pause.  So much of my social life is connected in some way to drinking, it makes me wonder how the dynamic would change, and if I would even like it. 

So for the time being, no official proclamation, just some food for thought.  Is self-awareness something that comes with age?  If so I can't wait to see what I figure out next.  

Dogs vs. Kids

I make not secret about the fact that I love my dogs.  I'm slightly obsessed with them to be perfectly honest, and they more or less control my life.  Okay, that last line is a bit of an exaggeration but I'm sure you get the point.  I'm officially "one of those dog people", for better or worse.

The day we got our beagles just happened to be the day after I had my wisdom teeth removed.  I was in a lot of pain, nauseous, and while I was excited to take home two adorable puppies I was also kind of nervous (and nauseous....did I mention how god awful I felt?)  We had just moved into our house, were in the midst of planning our wedding, and had all new furniture that was of yet untouched by canine teeth.  Part of me thought we might be taking on too much, merging into unknown and expensive chaos. 

But then I saw the puppies.  There were so many of them, a whole litter of baby beagles running around, their ears flopping and their little legs carrying them across the lawn and out into the pasture.  My churning stomach forgotten, I soaked up the sight of all the little pups and instantly decided I wanted to adopt them all.  It was kind of hard to figure out where to look, considering all the dogs were running in completely opposite directions......except for one little beagle.  This particular puppy was perfectly content laying in the sunshine, totally docile and eager to be cuddled.  I knew instantly I was taking him home.  Our other beagle of choice was a bit more playful and energetic, but he wanted to play with us so we took that as a sign that the pairing was meant to be.  Initially we had planned on adopting a brother and a sister, but we weren't even thinking about gender once we saw all the pups.  It simply became a matter of who stole our hearts first.  

As it turns out, we picked out two pretty awesome dogs.  Frank and Chester are an endless source of entertainment, love, and adventure.  Even with the occasional beagle baying (which I think is beautiful), and the barking fits that sometimes ensue in the backyard, they are on the whole incredibly well behaved pups.  I often wonder.....did we just luck out and and happen to pick two of the best beagles in the litter, or did we actually play a large role in seeing that Frank and Chester became the dogs they are today?  Are we grooming ourselves for children by attempting to raise the perfect dogs?  I can't help but wonder at times if the way we raise our dogs is the way we will raise our children (this is obviously a very loose generalization as I would never expect my children to use the bathroom in the backyard).

Right now our dogs are essentially our children, and I am guilty most of the time of treating them like little humans as opposed to the four legged canines they really are.  These pups are spoiled rotten, but I like to think they have earned their spoiled status....to some degree anyway.  But in the back of my mind I can't help but wonder (worry?) if my dog owner tendencies will transfer over to when I have to attempt to raise a human child.

Think about it.  There's probably a lot of insight that comes from watching the way people are with their animals.  I've started observing myself and Dean on a more regular basis, and I feel like I have gotten a bit more insight into our future parenting styles.  For instance, I can already tell that Dean will be the disciplinarian.  He is much more inclined to be the "tough guy" if the dogs get in trouble for something.  Me on the other hand.....I might have a short outburst and make them go lay down on their pillow, then I'm over there a few minutes later apologizing and hoping that they still love me unconditionally.  It's rather pathetic.  Maybe if I don't end up having a kid with big, sad brown eyes and long floppy ears it will be easier to enforce discipline. 

We have high expectations of our pups.  Well, maybe not high, but normal ones.....which I guess could be considered high for some kinds of dogs.  You know, the usual ones like not to jump up on people, not to bark or act aggressively with other dogs, and basically to listen and obey us when we call their names.  After three and a half years of living with hound dogs, dogs with such an advanced sense of smell and tracking, dogs that are just naturally stubborn by nature, it's funny that we still expect some of these things. It's not uncommon for us to be out on a walk, strolling at a leisurely pace, then all of a sudden be off to the races with a couple of wild, barking hounds because they have picked up on a scent.  Usually when this happens I just go with it and let their noses lead us where they may, but there is usually a bit of embarrassment that comes with these episodes.  I don't usually like to draw attention to myself but when I'm trying to control a beagle trying to run at 90 mph it's hard for people not to stare.....and it's even harder for me to pretend I'm not having trouble staying on my feet.  I'm doing my best to embrace these scent expeditions, but part of me can't help but wish there was a way to control these outbursts.  Of course, I've seen some doozies of public outbursts from little kids, and I have to say that I don't envy those parents one bit.  Compared to that, a barking beagle is easy sauce.  Which again leads me to wonder exactly how composed I will manage to be when the tables are turned and I'm the one with the screaming kid instead of the barking dog. I guess that will help put things in perspective.

Maybe it's a strange comparison to make, and maybe one has absolutely nothing to do with the other.  Sometimes I laugh at myself for being too protective over the dogs, for missing them when I'm away for only a night, or for taking picture after picture of them with my cell phone (because really, can you ever have too many dogs sleeping on the couch photos?)  But sometimes I stop and wonder if these traits are going to transfer over as our family starts to expand, if there is in fact a correlation between how we raise our pets and how we will raise our children.

Just some food for thought, perhaps one of these years I'll be able to post a follow-up with more or less accurate observations.  Until then, feel free to share with me your thoughts on this topic.      

Oh no he didn't!

There are many things to love about this time of year, in fact I posted something on that topic awhile back.  But if we are being Halloween specific, even though I own the DVD version, I still always look forward to watching "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" on or around Halloween night.  All of the holiday Peanuts shows are wonderful in their own right, and the Halloween show is massively entertaining.  Plus, it's a classic, and I'm always one to support the classics. 

Which is why I was a bit disheartened this morning to read the following article in which a father blogged about how children today should not be exposed to the Peanuts gang because the characters' constant teasing and name-calling towards Charlie Brown more or less constitutes bullying.  You can read the article for yourself here. 

Now, I'm not a parent, so I'm not sure my opinion holds much weight in this discussion (if in fact there really is a discussion and not just one person spouting off their opinion), but I think this is a bit far-fetched to be taken seriously.  I agree wholeheartedly that bullying of children is a very serious issue, even more so in today's world because of social networking sites, but I'm not sure trying to ban Charlie Brown and Snoopy from the airwaves is going to do much to confront the problem.  I agree that Charlie Brown is treated rather shabbily in most of the Peanuts cartoons, but he also doesn't conform to peer pressure, and does not let any naysayers sway him from doing what he thinks is right.  Charlie Brown is a survivor.  A fighter.  A child filled with perseverance and determination.  Those are admirable qualities that I know I would be proud for my children to have. 

Also, I think it's a bit unfair to call out the Peanuts gang like this.  Holiday special or no holiday special, there is hardly any programming out there aside from maybe Sesame Street where you can find zero conflict and zero examples of children (or adults) teasing each other and calling each other names.  I realize that just because everyone is doing it doesn't necessarily make it right, but to eliminate these sorts of things is just a tad naive and removed from reality.  Even family-centered shows like 7th Heaven and Full House would deal with controversial and unpopular topics from time to time because to ignore them completely is to ignore what real life is like.  All kids at some point are going to get called names.  All kids are going to go through feeling like a loser.  We've all been there and yes, it is most unfortunate and not the least bit enjoyable, but it's also not the end of the world, and neither is seeing it happen to cartoon characters.   As the author of the Today article pointed out, kids are not always going to be winners.  They aren't always going to be liked, and events in life are not always going to go their way.  They have to learn this one way or another, and in my opinion learning it through watching Charlie Brown is pretty darn mild.

I'm also more than a tab perturbed at the idea of censoring.  If John Milton were alive today he would be in fits.  Although I'm not sure Milton would be much of a TV watcher.....but I digress.  Again, I'm not a parent and maybe I will feel differently someday when I am, but I feel like political correctness and jumping through hoops to be as non-controversial and non-offensive as possible is turning us into a completely over-sensitive society.  If we are at the point where someone can take offense to Charlie Brown, then in my mind we have crossed over into dangerous territory.  If you look hard enough and twist words and meanings just the right way I suppose you can find offensiveness and fault with just about anything.  But why should we live in that kind of world, and better yet, who really wants to?  I realize this is just one blogger out of millions, voicing their opinion the way I am on here voicing mine, but to suggest that this cartoon should be taken off the airwaves when there are about a million other questionable shows on TV every single day seems, well, a bit extreme. 

Finally, here's some more than appropriate advice for the father who does not want to expose his children to the horror and inappropriateness that is Charlie Brown.  If you don't want your kids to see it, then don't watch it.  Let millions of other Americans partake in this classic cartoon and watch Linus and Sally wait for the Great Pumpkin, see Lucy run around throwing a fit because she bobbed for an apple and wound up kissing Snoopy, not to mention watch as Charlie Brown carries an exhausted Linus home from the pumpkin patch and tuck him into bed, because Linus fell asleep waiting for the Great Pumpkin.

Yea, I could see how kids would be scarred by these images.  

Practically perfect

This is the third time I have started writing this post.  It just won't do what I want it to do.  Kind of like my hair, but that's a battle I will probably never win.  This post....it will get written. 

Because I am a perfectionist I am rarely ever satisfied.  I manage to be content for awhile then decide it's time for a change, time to upgrade, time to do things different.  Due to my perfectionist nature, I am constantly running myself ragged trying to live up to my impossibly high standards in which I manage to do everything perfectly in every single facet of my life.  Part of me blames society and the notion that "having it all" is what we should strive for.  Society (and the Internet) tells me I can have the perfect home, the perfect wardrobe, the perfect job, the perfect body, the perfect husband, a perfect family, and a life full of travel and adventure, paid for, of course, by my perfect job. 

This does not help me to sleep better at night.  In fact, striving for all this perfection is what causes me to pass out from exhaustion on the couch every night.  Having it all and trying to BE it all can sometimes make a person feel less than whole.  For me, I just feel like I am always trying to play catch-up, always trying to add one more thing to the never-ending to-do list. 

It's silly, I know, but sometimes I feel pressure (mainly from myself) to take on all these role simultaneously and become a rock star at each and every one of them.  For instance, my OCD tendencies mean I am constantly cleaning house.  On my lunch break I am doing dishes, when I get home from work I am sorting mail and putting away laundry, on the weekends I am scrubbing floors and dusting furniture.  I have always placed a high importance on exercising, so I'm on the treadmill every morning at 5:30 a.m., and yet some days instead of feeling good about myself for running three miles, I'm feeling kind of lousy that I didn't do at least five. If I don't have a menu planned and food bought for the week I feel scattered, like I failed a test.  If I can't get through my to-do list at work by the end of the day I feel frustrated.  And with my writing.....well, let's just say that one is too big to get into in just a measly paragraph.

I stretch myself too thin a lot of the time.  I try to cram in too much, try to get too many things done as quickly as possible.  While at times this method works to my advantage, it usually leaves me feeling exhausted and sometimes frustrated.  When you take on a number of different roles sometimes there isn't enough room in one day for everything.  Something inevitably gets left out.  And once you make a habit of leaving things out, it gets easier to do it time and time again.

The truth is, I'm not perfect and I never will be.  I will never be able to do everything in my life to perfection, but every now and then I can definitely hit one out of the park.  I also need to rid myself of the mindset that life will truly begin once everything is "just right," because life is most definitely underway, and I'm right in the thick of things.  I feel like I need to work on adjusting my daily focus.  Maybe not try to take on everything each and every day, but take on one or two things then save the rest for later.  Maybe it's worth having a slightly messy house if it means I can devote an hour or two of my evenings to writing, or scrap booking, or finally finishing a book I've been working on for over a month.

I don't think I'll ever rid myself of the perfection mindset.  But I need to start allowing myself to focus that mindset in more specific terms.  I think this trait will definitely help me to succeed in various areas of my life, but only if I take on a little bit at a time instead of all at once.  I also need to stop feeling bad about all the things I feel like I should be doing, and instead embrace the ones I am doing, and more importantly WANT to be doing.

There may not be enough hours in the day for everything, but as long as I can find enough time in my life for all the important things, I guess that's what really matters.      

This really spoke to me.....

I know what you're thinking.  Two posts in one day??  What kind of parallel universe did I stumble upon now?

Believe it, kids.  I'm back for the second time in a matter of hours, although this isn't technically a full-on legitimate post, more of a spur of the moment, have to get this down on paper (computer screen?) while it's still fresh in my mind moment.

I checked in on a blog that I haven't read in months, and found this delightful post by Allison Winn Scotch.  It completely spoke to me and my state of mind right now.  A case of divine intervention?  Or just another happy accident in the world of blog hopping?  I can't say for certain, but I am so glad that I stumbled upon this post today as it has helped to shine some fresh perspective onto not just my writing situation but my life in general.  

I encourage you all to check out the post, titled "Fear of Fiction."  For all the writers and aspiring writers out there I have a feeling Scotch's checklist will definitely hit home.  For me, item #4 seemed to speak volumes.  Just sayin. 

Click here to read the post!  

Standing in place

Sometimes I feel like a walking contradiction.  I love routine, I thrive on sticking to relatively the same schedule day in and day out.  I need to know in advance what the plan is, when and where things are happening, in order to adjust my schedule accordingly.  I'm a planner, and time that is unaccounted for can make me feel anxious and wasteful.  Yet on the other hand, I sometimes grow tired of routine and yearn for something new, a change of scenery, a break from the mundane and everyday.  Sometimes I want spontaneity.

Maybe we all go through periods like this.  Maybe we all fluctuate from one end of the spectrum to the other on a given day.  It's so easy to get used to your life the way it is, even if deep down there are elements you would like to change.  It's easy to fall into a routine with seemingly no end in sight, and it's even more common to be astounded at how long you can spend going through the same routine.  What's the saying?  Time flies when you're having fun?

Some days I feel like I'm standing still.  Like the people around me are embracing change, moving forward, taking strides towards new opportunities, and all the while I am here.  Still the same and not much changed. 

I don't feel like this is a bad thing, or that one has to constantly be experiencing huge life transformations in order to be seem as "really living," but sometimes I wonder if I grow too complacent, too accepting of the way things currently are to truly embrace a change in the road.  I often get the feeling that I'm sitting on the sidelines observing, rather than taking active participation in various aspects of life.  Maybe it's just a phase, maybe I over-think these things too much, but sometimes I look at myself and where I am with my life and I feel a kind of claustrophobia set in.  And then a single thought streams through my mind.....Is this how it will be forever?

Is life in general sometimes harder to accept with when there is no change in sight?  Do we need to possibility of change in order to keep up the motivation to get through the everyday?  It's possible.  I don't think it's a constant need but from time to time I think a change of pace suits us all. 

For me, I sometimes wonder (and I know this is going to sound awful) if I should be doing something different at this point in my life.  Should I still be working the same job?  Should I be thinking about having a baby?  Should I live somewhere else before establishing a life in one particular town?  What the hell should I be doing or consider doing before it's too late?

Awful isn't it?  It's awful because there is no right or wrong answer to those questions, because it's different for every person, and because there is no rule book that states I have to do any of those things by a certain point in order to have a fulfilled life.  Besides, as the old adage goes, if it ain't broke, don't fix it. 

I hope I don't come of as giving the impression that I'm unhappy because I'm not.  I also hope I don't appear ungrateful for the wonderful things and people in my life, of which there are many.  I guess sometimes I worry that I'm missing out on.....something, even if I can't quite comprehend what that "something" is.  After a fairly long streak of familiarity it's hard not to wonder if things should continue the way they are, or if new elements should be added.  I realize this is all very vague and not very to the point, but that's kind of the aura that surrounds me right now.  I can't put my finger on what exactly is causing these restless feelings, only that they are there and beg to be reckoned with.

To stand in place or take a new turn?  That is the question.     

Political headaches

I remember the first time I ever voted.  I was excited to finally take part in the whole process, to get my "I Voted" sticker and fulfill my civic duty.  I also remember the first time I got to vote for the President of the United States.  It felt kind of surreal, looking at that ballot and seeing those names, knowing that I was casting a vote for the most important position in the country.  

Flash forward to present day.  We are once again in the midst of a presidential campaign year and this is right about the time I start to get plain sick and tired of the whole hullabaloo.  The speeches, the debates, the TV ads, the comments from supporters of either party.....I'm done with it all.  Can we please just vote already?  I am still excited to get my ballot, send it in, and hopefully have my vote counted, but I am worn out by all the poll updates and hostile attitudes that surround this election.  

Not that I am checking out entirely.  I like to try and remain an informed voter so to say that I am closing myself off from all election coverage entirely probably isn't a true statement, but let's just say I'm not going to give it too much of my attention from here on out.  I know the issues well enough to know who I'm voting for, so all the rest, as far as I'm concerned, is just fluff. 

Politics is just not my thing.  I really don't have much of an interest in it, I don't like discussing it with other people, and I find the whole song and dance more or less exhausting.  People spend so much energy debating political issues back and forth non stop, when all that accomplishes is getting each other fired up and each person becoming more and more ingrained in their own opinions.  It's true, debating is pointless.  Which is why I figure it is never okay to bring up the subject of politics in mixed company, or even with family.  For some reason this topic is so touchy it can drive a wedge between people faster than almost anything else.  Including religion. 

I don't really have a point except to say that while I'm excited to vote next month, I'm eager to have this election behind us so we can start focusing on other things aside from poll numbers and Mitt Romney's tax returns. 

Waiting.....

Do you ever go through periods where you feel like you're waiting for something, even if you don't know what that something is?  Because that's kind of how I feel this week.  I just returned to work after almost a week off, and will be leaving town again on Friday for a work related event, so naturally my motivation level is a bit low and I find that I have put myself into a waiting pattern. 

For instance, I haven't worked out since last week because of said vacation, and while I could easily start up my routine again I have most definitely talked myself out of doing anything until Monday.  I have told myself that I have other things that need to get done, plus I caught a baby cold on the plane so am trying once again to get healthy, and so on and so on.  Oh, and when I say baby cold I don't mean that I caught a cold from a baby (although I very well could have.....) I just mean that the cold isn't full blown, it's just in the infancy stages.  So I'm doing my best to crush it to smithereens.

I have also been a bit of a procrastinator at work.  I wouldn't say I've been slacking off because technically speaking I'm ahead of the curve on projects (yay!), I would instead say that I haven't been over achieving.  I tell myself that since there's only one more "working" day left in my week it's best not to start anything too time consuming until Monday.  We all know that familiar line, don't we?  It suckers me in each and every time.  

The last month for me has been a tad crazy to say the least.  I've been burning the candle at both ends, so to speak, and I have been telling myself for awhile that after this week concludes I will finally be able to get back on track.  I'm hoping that this will be true in terms of both my physical health and my mental stress level.  So for this week I have definitely put myself in a holding pattern.  I feel like I'm existing and yet not thriving, like I'm doing the bare minimum to get by before I decide to plunge back into everyday life. 

Does that seem weird?  Does anyone else go through these dormant stages?  I'm doing my best not to wish for time to go by too fast, because October as we all know is one of my most favorite months of the year, but I am looking forward to a (hopefully) calmer state of being starting next week.  I want some time to enjoy and get reacquainted with my personal life and some of the things I have pushed to the back burner.  

On another somewhat unrelated tangent, I feel like I had all these great blog ideas (okay, maybe two or three decent ideas) that I planned to write about after vacation, and now I don't have the faintest idea what they were.  I feel like I may have written them down somewhere but as to where that "where" might be, I have no clue.  So who knows where we go from here because God forbid I actually come up with new ideas or even remember what the old ones were.  

Maybe if I sit back and wait long enough, the ideas will magically re-manifest themselves in my brain.  But if they don't show up by Monday, the official end of my waiting period, I'm going to have to move on.  One can only wait for so long.   

Do you have an empty desk?

I got to thinking about a common expression the other day, and I feel it's being misinterpreted.  You know the saying "A cluttered desk is the sign of a cluttered mind?"  Well, the common rebuttal to that is often "An empty desk is the sign of an empty mind."  I feel in this analogy you could replace the word desk with just about anything.  House, car, purse, etc.  It's a very flexible description. 

Flexible as it may be, I'm a bit bothered by the "empty" part.  You see, I happen to be one of those people who usually has an empty desk, work area, whatever you want to call it.  And while my area is not completely empty, it is usually devoid of.....extra stuff.  But I absolutely do not consider my mind to be empty.  Dear God, far from it!  I cannot shut my mind off there is so much stuff rattling around in there.  

So I'm offering a rebuttal to the empty mind comeback.  Instead of an empty desk being a sign of an empty mind, I'm thinking it's more a sign of an organized mind.  As in, things are neat and tidy and everything is in its place.  

Organized.  Efficient.  Two of my favorite words and two characteristics which I try to embody on a daily basis, and two characteristics which I absolutely appreciate in other people.  Especially people I interact with in the professional world.   I find when I'm feeling scattered and a bit off the charts, it's easier to center myself when I take the time to organize my thoughts (usually in the form of a to-do list), and then work methodically down that list until I feel a bit more in control. 

The same theory applies to my workspace, my living space, any type of space I'm occupying at a given time.  I cannot function with mass amounts of clutter.  I need to have things sorted and organized in some way shape or form before I can feel comfortable and before I can be productive.  I am my most happiest when things are put away, and I don't have piles of randomness taunting me everywhere I look.  Yes, I've been told before that I have OCD tendencies.....and trust me, I'm always the first to admit it.  Which means that I don't see emptiness and lack of stuff as a bad thing.  In my opinion, it's the best possible thing! 

So don't feel bad if you come from an empty desk.  Be proud for ridding yourself of the excess clutter and embracing your organizational instincts.  Over-organizers need to officially unite and share this message.....together we can stop the verbal abuse on empty desks.  

School days

By the time my college graduation rolled around I was beyond ready to be done with school.  Instead of setting myself up for a cakewalk of a senior year I continued to take full class loads, participate in extracurriculars, and work two jobs.  I was probably no more or less busy than any of my classmates, but I was definitely stretched to the max and ready to be done with papers, tests, group projects, and mandatory lectures.  

That was in the spring.  By the time fall rolled around I felt a huge disconnect between where I was in my life and where I wanted to be.  I felt like I should be back on campus, going to classes, buying my books, and preparing for another semester of knowledge.  Instead I was working, technically still on campus, but a far cry from being the student I was a mere three months ago.

As time has gone by I've gotten used to the fact that for me, fall no longer initiates the start of another school year with me playing the roll of the student.  I no longer have to worry about credits, GPA, landing an internship, and homework cluttering up my evenings.  I'm not going to lie and say that having those items off my plate isn't a huge relief, because it is.  But those are just a handful of the things that come with being a student, and while they are big things, they don't make up the entire picture. 

I miss going to class.  Yes, there were days when dragging myself through a full day of class was the absolute last thing I wanted to do, but on the whole, I enjoyed being in the classroom everyday.  I liked attending my writing workshops, discussing the writings of Shakespeare and John Milton, and debating topics of media ethics in journalism.  I loved being surrounded by so many opportunities for knowledge, and in so many different areas.  

Another fantastic part of the student life was down time.  Obviously this was schedule dependent, but I was always fortunate enough to have some kind of break either at the beginning or middle of my day, and it was always so nice just to have time to chill out, go and exercise, read a book, whatever might sound appealing.  Of course, the more involved I became the more my down time seemed to dwindle, but on the whole my class schedules were never too difficult to handle.  It was just nice to have little breaks, and sometimes longer ones, instead of being stuck at work all day.....which essentially is what awaits most of us after college. 

College is filled with so many great things.  The sporting events, clubs, intramural sports, parties, (and for some of us just the act of going to school)!  It's not all wonderful.  It's not always easy.  It's often filled with stress, disappointment, and frustration.  It was also a bit scary, especially once senior year rolled around.  Seeing the light at the end of the tunnel and not knowing what was on the other side made me break into a panic on more than one occasion.  But the college environment is infectious.  And being immersed in it year after year oftentimes makes me wish I was still a part of it.  Having been a student in one form or another for 18 years of my life was a hard thing for me to let go of, and every year I feel that yearning to be back in the classroom. 

Of course I do realize that education is a lifelong process, in more ways than one.  Book learning is just a small part of the education we all receive throughout our lives, and as we get older it's often up to us to challenge ourselves, to tackle new ideas and problems to find a solution that works for us.  I hope I never lose that desire to learn and explore, to ask questions and work to find the answers.  I want to continue to challenge myself and not let my fear of failure, of breaking routine, stand in my way. 

I learned a lot about myself in college and have learned just as much if not more in the five years since I graduated.  Perhaps that is also part of this lifelong learning adventure.    

Goodbye, summer

There's a window of time each year where it doesn't quite feel like summer anymore, and yet you haven't fully transitioned into the fall season.  It leaves one feeling slightly confused and not sure whether to embrace the change in season or lament the one that is being left behind.  This is where we are right now.  Fall is straight ahead in our sights, and yet it's hard to accept the fact that summer, that long anticipated and gone too soon season is really over. 

The end of summer to me always feels like waking up from a dream.  I know that summer was here.  I know that the sun was out and the weather was hot, and that I went on weekend vacations and frolicked (yes, I tend to frolic from time to time) in natural bodies of water, camped under the stars and enjoyed days and days away from my office, and yet it all seems like something that happened long ago, in an almost forgotten time.  Why is that?  Why do the events of summer seem like they occurred years ago instead of a mere few weeks?

The summertime effect, as I will now be calling it, happens every year right around this time.  For while the calendar says September my head is stuck in August, and while school is back in full swing and there are a million things going on, I'm still thinking about vacations and quiet work weeks.  But while I sit here missing summer I'm also starting to look forward to what lies ahead, to pulling out my fall decorations from the storage closet and decking the halls with shades of orange, red and brown, to meals in the Crock Pot and hot apple cider in the evenings.  

Yes, there is plenty to be excited about with the arrival of fall.  There's college football, Halloween, new seasons of my favorite TV shows (I'm looking at you Glee and Parks and Rec), hosting my first Thanksgiving (yikes!), egg nog, and Pumpkin Spice Lattes back on the menu at Starbucks.  Little things I know, but it's those little things that add up to one fantastic season. 

The one problem with fall?  I can never seem to slow down long enough to enjoy it.  Much like summer has become nothing but a distant memory, I know that before too long I will be looking back wondering how the fall went by so fast.....as I watch the snow pile up outside my window.  It's a fact I've grown to accept, and it doesn't make me like the season any less.  I'll still do my best to soak up as much fall as I possibly can.

Now that we are well into the second week of September, I can feel myself transitioning.  I can feel the change in the air, notice the difference in the light at certain times of day, and for the first time in months am having to dig through my closet for a pair of jeans.  It's sad to see summer hide away when it feels like it was just getting started, but part of me is ready to move into the next phase of the year.  

Goodbye, summer.  Until we meet again......    

Reflections

I guess I'm a bit of a liar.  Obviously when I said I would be writing a post tomorrow I meant tomorrow as in six days later.  Details, right?

I'm delaying my fall post because today is one of those days where you can't sit back and ignore the big pink elephant in the room.  You have to sit down and write about him.  Today is September 11th, the 11th anniversary of the worst attack on our nation to take place on our soil.  It's a somber day, one that will be filled with memorials, public gatherings, and continued mourning by the thousands of people who lost a loved one eleven years ago today.  September 11th has been called our generation's Pearl Harbor, and for good reason.  We were attacked by an enemy we didn't see coming, thousands of lives were lost, and the result of said attack led us into war.  

I was a senior in high school on the morning of September 11, 2001. I was getting ready for school and had just come down to eat breakfast when I happened to glance at the TV screen and saw a shot of the Twin Towers.  It stunned me.  The whole situation looked and sounded so surreal.  All day long at school the televisions in the common area were kept on, and we would stand and listen to the news coverage in-between classes.  The halls were quiet.  There wasn't the usual rowdiness and shouting echoing down the hall.  We were all subdued, not quite sure how to interpret the images we were seeing.  That evening I had a volleyball game in the Tri-Cities, and on the way to the game our bus pulled over to the side of the road to observe a national moment of silence mandated by President Bush.  Surreal is still the only word I can think of to describe looking out the bus window, seeing all those cars pulled over, knowing that this tragedy that had happened on the other side of the country was going to impact all our lives. 

Except we didn't quite know that then, did we?  We didn't quite foresee all the ways in which 9/11 would change the way we lived, the way we traveled, the way we thought about our politicians and groups of people from countries many of us had never been.  We didn't know that 11 years later we would still be fighting a war on terror, a war that many of us fear has no end in sight.  We didn't foresee all the lives that would be sacrificed during the fighting in Afghanistan and Iraq, didn't know that the thousands of people who lost their lives on 9/11 were just the beginning in a long list of Americans who would pay the ultimate sacrifice to help maintain our freedoms, and to keep our nation safe. 

For weeks after 9/11 I didn't understand how to interpret, how to deal with the overwhelming sadness I felt.  This national tragedy hadn't directly impacted me, and yet it had.  I saw the images on the news, listened to the President talk about how we would hunt down the terrorists, and I still couldn't quite understand how something like this could have happened.....or why it had to happen in the first place.  

Today, I've seen those same images plastered on almost every Internet page and TV station, and I wonder if I will ever be able to see a picture taken of the New York skyline on that day and not feel the tears well up in my eyes.  I think about all the children out there who have grown up without a mother, father, aunt, uncle, all because a hijacked plane flew into the office building where they were working.  My heart goes out to all the firefighters and rescue workers who are now suffering from lifelong health problems because of breathing in all the ash that lingered in the air long after the towers fell.  I have had two family members fight in both the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, one who is currently still serving a tour overseas, and I think how that day in September set the course for their military lives the past eleven years.  

I think about all this and more, and I feel those emotions that so many other Americans are feeling on this day.  This being an election year, the political atmosphere is tumultuous to put it lightly, and we are something of a nation divided as the month of November draws closer.  But no matter which side of the political spectrum one favors, I don't think that should have anything to do with today.  There have been plenty of movies, articles, documentaries, you name it, on who is to blame for 9/11, who knew what, and what could have been done to prevent it.  

And yet the fact of the matter remains, 9/11 did happen.  We can't go back and prevent the past.  We can't settle on one person or political party to blame and think that it will change anything eleven years later.  Our world has been forever altered by the events of 9/11, and our futures will be defined by the tragedy in one way or another.  Today, I feel, is best served in reflecting.  In remembering.  In giving thanks and praying for continued healing, not just for the people who have lost a loved one, but for all of us.  

We all lost something on 9/11.  And eleven years later the mourning, the recovery, the healing process, all have no end in sight.  

In short, we will never forget.         

Playing catch-up

So I'm almost back to being a healthy person.  After a week of battling one of the worst colds I've had in years, blowing my nose roughly one thousand times, and ingesting capful after capful of Robitussin, I'm almost back to my normal self.  It's been a rough week to say the least, and I'm more than relieved to start seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.  

I had to take two sick days last week, and not the fun sick days when you call in sick because you have something better to do, but the legitimate sick days when you literally can't go to work because you feel like your head will explode from all the sinus pressure and your throat feels about the equivalent of sandpaper.  

But now I'm back, playing the never-ending game of catch-up, and slightly alarmed to realize that while I was working my way through my fifth box of Kleenex, the final days of August slipped through my fingers and instantly became September.  Summer is, well, over, and now it's time to transition into the fall whether I'm ready to or not.  I have such mixed feelings about fall, even though it is my second favorite season (yes, I rank my seasons.....don't you?)  This fall in particular has got me feeling a mix of nostalgia, anxiety, and excitement.  Right now I'm not sure which emotion to embrace, so I'm taking all of them in turn on a day-to-day basis.  But more on that later. 

In short this post is merely a placeholder.  For the post I plan to write tomorrow.  Because in case you hadn't noticed, I've been terrible lately at keeping house around this blog and I'm going to try and rededicate myself to the habit of writing daily, or more realistically, every other day posts.  I wonder how many times I've written that sentiment in one form or another? 

So tune into tomorrow, fellow readers.  For a post about fall.  Where we go from there remains to be seen.      

On positivity

I've been doing a lot of complaining lately.  Out loud and in my head.  I enjoy a good venting session every now and then, but for the past month or so I feel like I've been going through just a daily stream of negative thinking, feeling, and saying out loud.  I know that when I get stressed, busy, and overly tired, I'm more prone to fall victim to the negative mindset, more likely to complain about things that in the long run aren't going to amount to anything of significance, and way more likely to focus on the not so great things in my life instead of the numerous wonderful ones.  

I also know I've written before about negativity but apparently I need a reminder right now about the importance of positive thinking.  I have been wasting way too much of my mental and sometimes physical energy on whining and complaining, and frankly I'm a bit tired of it all.  I can accept that there are aspects of my life that are less than ideal, that there are things I would like to be different.  Yes I would love to have a newer, bigger house in the country, to make more money and do more traveling, but these are things I can't change with the snap of my fingers.  It's going to take much longer and much more effort. In other words, I just have to get used to it and get over it.  Even though I'm just naturally one of those people who wants to make things sunny and wonderful and perfect all the time and right away with no delay, sometimes it's just not in the cards.  I need to stop dwelling and just take it all in stride, which can be really hard for me to do, hence my current state of mind.

I know I'm not the only person out there who complains about their job from time to time.  I'm willing to bet that complaining about work is right up there on the list of top complaint topics because I seriously doubt that most of us are living out our dream careers.  Lately I have made an art form out of work whining and, to be honest, I'm a bit sick of myself.  The more time I waste going over the things that irritate and annoy me, the more irritated and annoyed I feel.  Hmmm.....sense a pattern here?  I don't know why it's been so hard for me lately to just leave work at work, including all my annoyances, but I can't seem to stop going over, and over the irksome details, which in turn leaves me overly frustrated and mentally exhausted.  It's silly, really, because not everything about my job is complaint-worthy, but of course those seem to be the only details I am zoning in on right now.  Again I pose the question, why are we so much more inclined to focus on the negative instead of the positive?

I'm putting a stop to it here and now.  I'm going to actively start training my mind to be positive and optimistic.  I know it's not going to work all the time and in all situations, but when I feel the urge to complain I'm either going to bite my tongue, or think of something nicer to say.  I'm going to stop wasting time dwelling on the things that don't make me happy, and instead I'm going to redirect my attention to things that I value, that I enjoy, that make me less inclined to feel dour and unhappy.  I really feel like perception is everything, and if I can just start zoning in on the not-so-bad things I think it will really help me to get out of this negative funk I have been in.  If you have any extra positive energy, send it my way.     

On feeling magenta

My mood is slightly melancholy, slightly excited, and slightly.....off.  I don't quite have the words to describe it, but this is more or less an accurate portrayal:

"All kinds of feelings tumbling all over themselves.  Not quite blue, because you're not really sad, and although you're a bit jealous you wouldn't say you're green with envy.  And every now and then you realize you're kind of scared but you'd hardly call yourself yellow..."

In case you were wondering it was Blanche on the Golden Girls who delivered that memorable description.  She called it feeling magenta, because she hated feeling that way and she hated the color magenta.  Gotta love that, right?

I'd have to say that's the most accurate way to describe me right now. I think a lot of it has to do with transition into a new season.  Technically it’s still summer, but school is starting up again and with the hustle and bustle that comes along with fall it feels like the laid back attitude that encompasses summer break is quickly becoming a thing of the past.  For me, fall is go, go, go, can’t stop for a minute, don’t forget breathe, hope you make it out to the other side alive.  In other words, it’s busy.  And while I would much rather be busy and have things to do than be sitting around twiddling my thumbs, sometimes the amount of work and activities that come with the fall leads me to feeling negative rather than fulfilled.  It’s the whole switching of mindsets that has me off-put at the moment. 

Right now I am also dealing with the roller coaster of feelings and attitude changes about my current job.  I’ve been up and down for awhile now, and right now I find myself somewhere in between being happy with what I’m doing, and desperately seeking something new.  The thing is, I don’t know if a new job would change anything.  There is no guarantee, especially since the job I really want, independent free-lance writer, hasn’t shown up in the want-ads lately.  I know that the work I’m currently doing is not what I want to do forever.  There are aspects that I enjoy, but way too many that I don’t to say without a doubt that I’m content with doing this forever.  These up and down emotions are leaving me feeling restless, and wondering how long I stay content with where I’m at before contemplating a drastic change.

Maybe this is some kind of crossroads.  Is it time to make a decision to go one direction or the other?  But what are the directions?  See what I mean about all the feelings tumbling all over themselves?

I’m sure we all go through our magenta phases, some lasting longer than others.  Regardless of the length, the best thing to do is keep going forward and trying not to dwell on the things that can’t changed.  That’s a really after-school special sentiment, isn’t it?  But really, what other choice do we have?   

          

On Sister Wives

Thanks to Netflix, I kind of became obsessed with the show Sister Wives.  Maybe obsessed is too strong a word.  Let’s just say I became heavily intrigued by the show, which follows the life of Kody Brown, his four wives, and their army of kids.  Okay, okay, there are only 16 kids, not quite an army.  Shame on me for exaggerating.  The Brown’s are modern day polygamists and they talk quite openly about their beliefs, about why they chose polygamy, about the pros and cons of the lifestyle, yada yada yada.  It’s reality TV, which we all know by now doesn’t even come close to showcasing reality, so one takes the show with a grain of salt.

I’m completely fascinated by the notion of polygamy and the men and especially women who choose that particular lifestyle.  It is hard for me to imagine myself being open to the concept of sharing my husband, in fact, who am I kidding, I would NEVER be okay with something like that.  I can’t imagine having Dean come up to me one day and saying, “I’m thinking about taking another wife.”  That’s weird, right?  How many women out there would be okay with something like that? 

Obviously at the root of polygamy is religion and the notion that living as a polygamist is the only way to get into Heaven, and that the more wives a man has the more holy he is, the more kids he produces shows he is doing his part to be bountiful and multiply.  This is a very loose interpretation and maybe there’s more to it than that, but overall I feel that is at least part of the argument for why polygamy is the way to go.

I wonder how happy a person can truly be in a lifestyle like this.  Only getting to spend time with your husband every three or four nights, depending on how many wives there are, pretty much being expected to pump out babies on a regular basis, and also pitch in to help raise a bunch of other kids that aren’t even yours.  Now, according to the wives on Sister Wives, it’s not like that at all.  In fact, they make the whole thing sound like a big sorority and girl’s only sleepover party.  But that’s not marriage.  That’s not building an intimate relationship with someone (i.e. your husband).  If every facet of your life has to be so scheduled, and quality time divided out in such small bits, how does that even come close to fulfilling a person’s emotional needs?  As a woman, when I think about having to structure my marriage in that way, I can’t imagine that I would ever feel completely happy and loved.  I can’t imagine you would ever feel entirely bonded to that other person, or that he in fact was entirely bonded to you.

I don’t want to sit here and persecute people for their religious beliefs, or for the way they choose to live their lives, but it’s hard for me to fully accept and understand this lifestyle.  Earlier I mentioned that Kody and his wives “together” had 16 children.  How close do you think any of those 16 children feel to their father?  How much one-on-one time do you think he really gets to spend with them?  Supposedly Kody has a job, then when he gets home he has four wives to tend to, and while I’m sure he gets to hang out with the kids a lot as a big group, that’s not really a surefire way to get to know each and every kid.  I would imagine a polygamist household is even tougher on the children for this very fact.

I’m sure modern day polygamy is a bit better than it used to be back with Brigham Young and Joseph Smith first preached the idea to their followers.  Stories circulated about men with over 50 wives, and women were more or less seen as possessions, married off to men old enough to be their father when they were barely 16 years old, sometimes even younger.  That’s probably a big part of how polygamy got such a bad rap.  But even though the Brown’s are doing their part to show the world that polygamy is a big ol’ party, I have a feeling they are the exception and not the rule.  It also makes you wonder how things really are when the cameras stop rolling.

While I would never in a million years agree to live this lifestyle, I am nonetheless fascinated by people who do.  And while I disagree with just about everything that comes out of Kody's mouth (the man is really quite obnoxious) I am totally hooked on watching this family.  Especially the wives.  Even though it's supposedly all about religion, I think a person also has to have some kind of unique mental aspect to buy into a lifestyle of this nature.  Especially if you are a woman.  I just can't imagine any woman waking up one morning and deciding she wants to share her husband with one, two, even three other people.  To have him MARRIED to these people.  This, I feel, takes a certain kind of personality.  And yet all the wives on the show seem to be quite different, so trying to find the common link (aside from the man they all married) is kind of tricky.  Again, one has to take reality TV with a grain of salt, but I can't help but try and get to the bottom of this pondering.

How about the rest of the ladies out there?  Think you could handle the polygamist lifestyle?  I'd love to hear some feedback on this, and if you haven't done so yet, check out the show on TLC.  I'm not guaranteeing quality entertainment, but I suppose it's entertainment of some kind. Now, comment away!