Who says a girl can't celebrate solo?

Well, I'll start off by saying that my husband threw me the most smashing surprise birthday party this last Thursday. Full of delicious wine, scrumptious chocolate and all my besties (minus Noah) popping out of closets and from behind chairs! AND all this was after the most romantic and special picnic dinner with my Tim. Could NOT have had a better birthday celebration. I felt loved and special and celebrated.

On my actual birthday, both Tim and I had to work. I taught a class in the morning and right as I was finishing, Tim had to go close the store. Kind of a bummer, but I came home and was SO proud of myself for thoroughly enjoying the afternoon by myself. I took great joy in just enjoying the liberty to do nothing. I sat in the sunshine, read magazines, watched an old Dorris Day movie (Calamity Jane). And THEN. I cooked myself the most amazing dinner. I had fire roasted artichoke, baked potatoe, corn on the cob and the most delicious rib eye steak with a touch of chevre seared on top. And yes, I BBQ-ed them all by myself! I lit candles, dimmed the lights and had the most romantic lovely dinner with myself. And the best part was, it wasn't sad at all. I was so content to sit there and reflect on my life: where I've been, where I'm going, how I'm feeling at this point, etc. It was nice! 

And then! My dad called and said he had sent me a link of a video to watch. It was a Happy Birthday Tribute to me! So I sat and ate my ribeye and watched my childhood flit across the scene. So many happy memories. So many happy experiences. SO much love. I was amazed. Not that I remembered my childhood any differently; it's just different to relive it. (And I felt SO special and loved the my dad had taken the time to put it together for me!) 

All that to say, I had the most wonderful birthday week! Full of love, friends, memories, food, gardening, teaching... all the best in life!!

So, albeit belated, I give you full permission to have a glass of (whatever you please!) in honor of happiness, celebration, and love!

And here's the link to the video for those of you who haven't seen it yet :)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_vw4WfnQT9g

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes!

I'm a Dukie! I can't quite believe it myself, but the reality of what I applied myself to is finally beginning to sink in. What have I gotten myself into?!

As life changes happen, they hit me in different waves. Euphoria, excitement simply for change itself, pure terror, questioning, excitement, more terror, peace, exhaustion, and on it goes. I am so thrilled to begin studying again and using my brain. I am completely floored and honored that I get to study at Duke. These last few weeks I have definitely experienced the aforementioned waves, but the most predominant feeling has been excitement, butterflies, giggles and the sheer delight in planning: where will we live, what will we do, what route will we take to drive across the country?

This morning, I feel something different. Something closer to sadness. We've definitely had a run of it here in Sacramento. There's no doubt in my mind that it is time to move on. All of our friends are leaving too. Some to Portland, some to Spain, some will stay here. But it definitely feels like a wind of change came to us all. But it's still sad to leave. It's still sad to see a chapter so definitively close. And lately, I feel the huge weight of responsibility that it was my actions, my dreams that caused this change. It's me that's asked our whole family to move across the country. It's me that has asked my husband to leave all his friends, the promotion he's been working his ass off for, the comfortability of a home, of assured income, of friends. And I know he is more than willing. Tim is my coach, my cheer leader, my encourager. He would do anything to see me happy, to see me succeed. And I suppose that lessens it a bit, but I still feel that weight.

It's scary too, knowing that there's a good chance we're walking into a huge marital challenge. Balancing two loves, finding time for each other. Doing completely different things. And the possible feelings of purposeful and purposeless.

These last few weeks, I got a job at Kaplan and have been thrown back into studying, teaching and balancing working two jobs, seven days a week. Shortly after I got the job, Tim's job changed him almost primarily to work nights. So while I get off at 1 to come home and study for Kaplan, Tim leaves for work at 12:30. It's been difficult to find time to do things together. We have been so good about finding ways to connect throughout the day and make the time we have meaningful, but it's hard to simply not have daylight together. I know that this short season is completely invaluable in that we are being taught how to flexibly work to stay close. We are remembering what it is like for me to be diving back into books, or as Tim says, "in the room, but in no way present." I know that this is a foreshadow to balancing school and work next year, but it's already getting hard. And I just want it to be fun for awhile. I just want to relax and not work for two weeks. I'm tired of balancing; I'm tired of having to work at it. And I'm damned proud of us already.

So thrilled? Yes. Terrified? Yes. Anxious? Most definitely. Doubting? No. I know this is where we're supposed to be and where we're supposed to go. And who could really be that upset about getting to study in a castle?

Change on the horizon!

I think we all feel it. It must be something in the water. Change is preying upon us, and I have to say, for my part it's most welcome.

These last two years have been full. I have felt myself deepen. I have lived through the ugliest in people and the most beautiful. I've had the worst allergies you can imagine. Tim and I have survived joblessness, poverty. I've thrown myself into gardening and painting and tried my hand at creating different spaces. I've become the lady of my own home. Yes, it's been full. The real full. Not the full that's busy, the full that's big person-building roots being stretched down.



I have been a tree these last two years. Some roots went so deep and developed root rot; some went even deeper and have given me life. I weathered heat, wind and cold. I allowed myself to be miserable and quiet through the winter and now feel the thrill of pushing out new buds. The promise of life is on my horizon.





And here we are my dearies. All loving each other fully and still tenaciously pursuing moving away. What strange birds we are. I am so excited for us all! Moving to Spain, moving to Portland, moving to the East Coast, moving....with each step in each of our lives, I feel the thrill of excitement and a pain of sadness. Is there a way to move and have adventure and not say goodbye to what we have?

To our spontaneous glasses of wine? Our dancing parties? Our late afternoon sangria and beer floats? To gambling football parties? To complaining about work and corporate america?

Perhaps it does make each droplet of time spent with you sweeter, more treasured. I love you all

*disclaimer: Why do I have no pictures of us all together? And I couldn't find pictures of all of us! :(

The Treachery of Corporate America

I've realized something about myself recently. I am determined to believe the best about people. Sure, maybe they're a little bitchy. Sure maybe sometimes she's kind of a ditz. He said that? Well, maybe he really meant this. And on and on it goes. I think usually this is an excellent quality. I want people to be the best they can be (go ARMY). I encourage them to believe that they are the best about themselves. But lately, this quality has, quite frankly, caused me misery.

A few weeks ago that my lovely co-worker, who is all good and kind and considerate (bahaha!) found a document on her computer that I had written and accidentally forgotten to close before she came in. Granted, I shouldn't have been dumb enough to have it on her computer in the first place, but still. She and I have hung out a few times outside of work and I have shared with her some of the heartache I went through last year with the betrayal at Disciple's Church (sounds like a movie...Betrayal at Disciple's Church). So naturally, she says nothing to me, prints the document and trots off to show it to my boss. Awesome.

I should have known better. I have seen these two throw people they "care about" under the bus like it was nothing. They probably wouldn't bat an eye if they were told it was part of their job to drown kittens. But for some reason, I never really believed that they would do that to me. I'm their friend! I've had them over for dinner! We laugh together; I've comforted them through death & break-ups.

As if that wasn't enough, I just learned that she also told our boss about the troubles I've had with Disicple's Church and how that might affect my relationships with some of my co-workers who still attend there. Betrayal has definitely been on my "Learning List" this year. The questions I'm asking myself now are

How do I acknowledge anger and deal with it healthily?

If anger and bitterness is natural and part of the process, how long before it becomes destructive to myself?

And how do I continue working successfully in an environment that is so toxic? How do I be Julie here?

"Cordianally" yours,

JRM

School, Change and Monotony

As the deadline for graduate school application draws closer, the theme song to "Jaws" playing in my head.

Feb 1st. Feb 1st. Nuh nah. Nuh nah.

I suppose I've been entertaining the idea of SUCH a change so much that I haven't given the possibility (and honestly, likelihood) that I might not get accepted to these schools. But I felt that reality sink in a bit deeper 
yesterday. In my mind, I'm already planning on when I can quit this job and begin relocating to the east coast. I'm dreaming about school, papers and walking everywhere I need to go. And I've been thinking about all that that entails: the adventure, the loneliness, the stimulations, the newness, the isolation. Good, bad, good, bad. And I'm so hoping and striving toward change; I feel a tinge of panic if I don't get accepted. I don't want to keep straggling along in this job where they don't appreciate me. And the questions arise:

What if I don't get accepted? 

What will effect the change for us? 

Where will we go? 

I just am finishing up being here in Sacramento. I sense this chapter closing. I suppose I just need to wait to March 15. That's when I will know about school. Thank goodness it's such a short waiting time. But I find myself already geared for something new. If it's not school, what will it be? 

What do you think? What shall I do if I don't get into school? Where shall we go?

Nah Nuh. Nah Nuh.

Perhaps it's the sound of change?

A New Year...??

Tart, vodka-y lemon drops have got to be the best thing in the world. They have carried me through countless nights of social anxiety, depression, celebration, and reflection. Tonight I sip one to cope. That's a word we use at work to describe how "our kids" (clients) learn socially appropriate behavior to handle how their differently wired brains respond to difficult situations. ...I find I have much in common with them.

A new year is classically supposed to feel like a fresh slate. We make new resolutions, leave behind our old unfulfilled ones and move on with the hope of the next year bringing x. This year, Tim and I had the lofty goal of being happier. As soon as he wrote it in his new blue journal, I almost teared up. How honest of us. And how sad. Let's be honest. 2010 has been a bitch. Am I right? You have had your children die, your husbands leave you, our friends betrayed us, we were all poor (I think)...am I missing anything? And for what? I asked myself. Good riddance 2010. I've never been happier to see a year in my rear view mirror.

Another sip of my lemon drop and I'm on to bigger (albeit more depressing) questions. Tim and I were musing about the world's population growing so large, and we jokingly were saying, "and another person was just born....and someone died...and someone else was just born...and someone just died." And it seemed so asinine that there are that many people in this world. Yet those births and deaths are just numbers to me--statistics. And to 99% of the world, I'm just a number. So in the grand scheme of things, we are all just being born and dying all the time. And what are we doing with our lives??? We are working at jobs to save for retirement so that we can decay in peace. OR we are spending every waking moment looking for food. OR we are running from corruption, violence, and who knows what else. And all for what???

Anecdote: When I was about 15, I attended a conference called DYC (District Youth Conference). Thousands of kids listened to sermons about witnessing to the lost and sang passionate love songs to God. And then! We all practiced what we learned and went out street witnessing to the poor general public (I say poor because I'm sorry they had to endure it). I don't remember much of it except one exchange. I walked up to a homeless woman to share with her the "salvation message". She looked at me and said, "Tell me. What is the point of life? Why are we here" and I remember, so distinctly, feeling the passion in my little heart and my eyes filling up with tears answering her, "to bring glory to God". I knew that was the answer, and I felt it so acutely. Her response was less than encouraging.

And now I find myself asking the same question: Why are we here? To experience love? To learn how much we need God? To experience relationship with Him? To learn how much it sucks to be human? To feel need? And I'm not just asking tritely. I'm not asking because I have an answer I'm waiting to share. Why are we here? I don't believe it's to find salvation. But I'm happy to be argued with...as always. (Sidenote: have you noticed how so many people don't like to be argued with? They don't enjoy the discussion I suppose. I love it; I think it promotes truth, journeying and relationship. Soapbox finished.)

Well, lemon drop is almost done and so are my thoughts. On to pour over my writing sample for grad school. Can I just say that I am soooo done with this corporate bull@$&*?? I don't thrive here. Suppose I should knit tightly with Musing's musings. :)

Thoughts??

Late Evening Thoughts

As I lay in bed last night, I whispered to Tim, “When you think about dying, doesn’t it seem strange that we still spend every day just waiting for time to pass? For the day to be over?”

This thought is lingering with me today. Not that I hate my job, or the people I work with or despise what I do, but I’m by no means excited by what I do each day. And I do spend the day watching the clock, breathing for it to be 4:30. And yet, I am horrified at how quickly my life is flying by me. I know that before I know it, I will have kids, grandkids, retire, get aches. I make my life a contradiction! I resent the days passing slowly and then complain that the year is already over. What’s the solution to this madness?

Part of me thinks that this is part of the human plight. To age. To work. And these aren’t necessarily bad things, but our death looms ever closer to us and threatens to steal the time and dreams of what could have been.

And part of me thinks these sad feelings are my own fault. I should take control of my life! I should pursue my dreams and do things that I love. Things that make me feel alive!

I think this is the conclusion I will rest in for now (heaven forbid I ever commit to anything): we are responsible to pursue and invest in things that make us who we are, that make us feel alive and excited to live. But we must also be emotionally prepared for the times that life intervenes and prevents us from doing what we would choose. Sometimes we must work. Sometimes we must make the best of our circumstances.

JRM

Disagree? What about the people who must spend every moment looking for food and have no time even to know what makes them feel alive? Only time to stay alive.