Well here we are at the end of another weekend and what do we have to show for it? Hmmm?
When I was working full time and C was still little weekends were just packed stem to stern with things. Laundry, house cleaning, grocery store, soccer practice or band practice, homework nagging, yard work (when we had a yard), trips to Target...you all know the drill. Once I went to part time and then to full time stay at home mom/housewife weekends slowed down quite a bit. And once C moved away to go to school they got positively lazy. Well for me anyway, often Brent needs to put in a few hours at work on the weekends, but rarely more than a few and not every weekend.
Now if we do something on the weekend it's because we want to, not because we have to. We still tend to run errands but just because it's easier to do them together than to make multiple "I didn't know you were going I would have had you pick up..." trips. But for the most part weekends are relaxed. This weekend was haircuts, hockey game, Target, researching a trip to Hawaii, playoff football and tracking C's trip back to Burlington. Oh and talking to everyone who called to see if he made it back okay as the News everywhere reported on snarled flights nationwide.
When we were super busy I can remember Sunday nights coming and feeling a bit panicked that we hadn't gotten everything done and the week was already upon us again. It was like running on a treadmill constantly. But one that seemed to be speeding up just a touch every few weeks so you were running harder and harder and not being able to keep up. Now Sunday night is met with a more relaxed attitude. The weeks are busier than the weekends, the schedules are tighter. Well, Brent's is tighter, the only change in mine is an alarm wakes me up instead of just the heater.
But tonight? Tonight as Sunday trickled away all I had was a moment of..."Oh shit! I totally need to write a blog for today and have no ideas! Do you think anyone would notice if I just copied over a to do list and called it good?"
Sunday, January 5, 2014
Saturday, January 4, 2014
If that's moving up then I'm moving out...
We've been talking about moving. For years. We go back and forth between deciding we are for sure moving to a new place and just thinking we will remodel this place. Both are expensive propositions and so it becomes sort of a toss up where money is concerned. We aren't sure what C is going to do after graduation so we go back and forth on how small we could go. Even if he doesn't get a job right away he would get one sooner rather than later and it could be anyplace in the US. Or Canada. Or Japan. So who knows what we will end up needing. A place with a guest room or a place with actual space for him?
And then the toss up between do we want a small house with a yard in the hills or a cool condo with a lovely deck downtown? And I want certain things that we are discovering seem to only come with bigger houses. Like a nice kitchen. With a decent hood vent. And smooth counter tops for baking and pasta. And I want a nice tub. That's not as important as a nice kitchen, but I've missed having a nice tub so that would be lovely. But hard to find in a house that isn't a McMansion, which we don't want. So we've stayed put. And looked at houses online. And gone to a couple open houses and looked at them. And today we are going to look at a farmhouse on 3 acres where I could have chickens and bees and maybe a cow.
Yeah, I know right? The chickens and bees are probably more realistic than the cow unless I could find someone to help me take care of it. But chickens and bees I think I could handle on my own. I like the idea of having fresh eggs and taking care of a few chickens. Not a lot. My grandfather had a really large coop and that's more than I want. Maybe three. And the bees just seem like a good idea if you have land. Just to help set up colonies. And we have people here that will take care of the hives, they just need space to place them.
Will we end up with the house in the hills with the farm land? Who knows. But you never know until you look. Maybe what I want isn't the downtown city condo with the restaurants and shopping in walking distance but the farmhouse with the woods of my own and chickens to give me fresh eggs and a cow to milk and a yard to tend. And really cute farmer overalls to wear while I do it all. I've never really thought I would end up tending to farm animals but over the past few years the idea has taken root and seems more and more appealing. Instead of high heels and business suits maybe rubber boots and work gloves? Who knows...
“We must be willing to get rid of the life we've planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us. The old skin has to be shed before the new one can come. -” Joseph Campbell
And then the toss up between do we want a small house with a yard in the hills or a cool condo with a lovely deck downtown? And I want certain things that we are discovering seem to only come with bigger houses. Like a nice kitchen. With a decent hood vent. And smooth counter tops for baking and pasta. And I want a nice tub. That's not as important as a nice kitchen, but I've missed having a nice tub so that would be lovely. But hard to find in a house that isn't a McMansion, which we don't want. So we've stayed put. And looked at houses online. And gone to a couple open houses and looked at them. And today we are going to look at a farmhouse on 3 acres where I could have chickens and bees and maybe a cow.
Yeah, I know right? The chickens and bees are probably more realistic than the cow unless I could find someone to help me take care of it. But chickens and bees I think I could handle on my own. I like the idea of having fresh eggs and taking care of a few chickens. Not a lot. My grandfather had a really large coop and that's more than I want. Maybe three. And the bees just seem like a good idea if you have land. Just to help set up colonies. And we have people here that will take care of the hives, they just need space to place them.
Will we end up with the house in the hills with the farm land? Who knows. But you never know until you look. Maybe what I want isn't the downtown city condo with the restaurants and shopping in walking distance but the farmhouse with the woods of my own and chickens to give me fresh eggs and a cow to milk and a yard to tend. And really cute farmer overalls to wear while I do it all. I've never really thought I would end up tending to farm animals but over the past few years the idea has taken root and seems more and more appealing. Instead of high heels and business suits maybe rubber boots and work gloves? Who knows...
“We must be willing to get rid of the life we've planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us. The old skin has to be shed before the new one can come. -” Joseph Campbell
Friday, January 3, 2014
And the last bit about goals...
All right I just want to touch on this one a little more in depth.
I mentioned in the first blog this week that we need to make sure we do the things we enjoy. That seems like a really easy thing right? But for some reason I have a hard time actually following through.
I like a clean house, as most of you know, but right now it's a mess. Because I've found a lot of other things I either needed or wanted to do this week instead of clean. I'll clean on Monday for sure. And it will get back to the way I like it and I will feel better about it and I will think, "I really need to clean a little bit every day and not do this slide thing" and then I will let it slide again. And yes, I know it's weird to start a blog about things I enjoy with cleaning, but it's true. I like a clean house. I don't mind cleaning because it's one of those chores (now that C is grown) that you can see. Laundry you do and as soon as you get undressed it's undone. Never ending. But a clean house? You get that moment of ahhhh....tracks in the carpet, mirrors sparkling, things tidy. It's done. And I like it.
I like to write. I like to empty my head of some of the clutter so I can rest. I like to put on paper the made up worlds that buzz around me all the time. I like the conversation that happens when something I've written triggers you to write something back to me. But sometimes I will go days without writing anything. Or weeks. And I know that I will be happier once I start writing again but then hours, days, weeks will go by and I won't have written anything.
I like having something, ANYTHING, done at the end of the day. When I pick up Brent or he comes home and asks, "What did you do today?" I want to have something to say. Saying "Nothing" really bugs me. Yet there are days that nothing is what I did. And nothing is all I have to answer.
And those are just three things, I also like coloring (yes, like in kindergarten I have books and pencils and crayons and patterns), I like to take trips, I like to go hiking, I like to do a lot of things that I can't seem to get around to doing. Why? Because I'm too busy doing nothing. And I have no idea why.
Seriously. It's crazy and I know it. There will be days where hours will pass and I will be planning on doing SOMETHING and then I look at the clock and realize it's too late, now I don't have time to do anything. So I've done nothing.
Okay, so now I have to back track just a bit, because I also don't belong to the cult of busy. You know what I mean? People who have turned being busy into a must do thing. I've been part of that crowd. Not by choice but by the way life was laid out at the time. Working, raising a kid, keeping a house, I even added in going to school for a few years in there. I have been in the busy crowd. But I don't fetishize it. I don't worship at the alter of busy. I don't think being slamming busy is a virtue. I believe that time to do nothing and having no appointments or schedules is important. Hell, I haven't worn a watch since C left for college and I can't imagine ever going back to it again. But I also can't stand it when I've let an entire day go by and I have nothing at all to show for it.
Especially when I know I will be happier if I clean my house, color a picture, read a book, write a story, go for a walk...
So what is it? What is it that stops me from doing those things? Laziness? Hmm..maybe. Sometimes. For awhile I wondered if I was depressed and just didn't realize it because it wasn't strong enough to make me stay in bed but too strong to get me off the couch. Then I thought no, that's not it. Because I know people who do suffer from depression and this isn't it. So back to lazy. But if it were complete laziness would it even bug me? So maybe not again. But then what? Easily distracted. That's part of it. Because when I say nothing what I really mean is I played games on my phone and I read news articles and I spent time on Facebook. So it's not nothing like just sitting and staring off in to space, it's nothing like nothing productive. Unless clearing 5 levels in Bejeweled counts...which it doesn't.
And there's also the overwhelming feeling of too much to do sometimes. I know, right? Super weird. But because I have all of my time to myself and all of my options are open to do whatever I want most days I sometimes am just overwhelmed by it all and so I do nothing. Which is crazy. And I get that, I really do. But I don't stop doing it.
And then there is money. Or more accurately my outdated view of money. I like to go on vacations. I like to take trips. I love Disney and Hawaii and San Diego and there is a list of places I have never ever been that I think would be cool to see and I don't go there. Because when I plan out a trip and I get to that bottom line I freak the fuck out. HOW MUCH? ARE YOU KIDDING ME? And I have a hard time following through. But when I do it's great. We had a fabulous time in Chicago this past summer. Disney last Christmas was awesome. And guess what? We didn't go broke paying for them. We still made the house payment and the car payment and didn't even skip a beat at Starbucks. Because we're not broke anymore. We're not living paycheck to paycheck. Or more accurately at the beginning of our marriage it was paycheck to a few days before paycheck. Brent has a really decent job. We have done a good job with savings. You know because I freak out when it comes time to spend the money so it has just stayed in the account, but it's there now and that's the point. Let's see if I can keep that in mind and pull the trigger for a nice trip again soon.
So a goal of mine right now is to stop doing so much nothing and start doing the somethings that I enjoy. Even if they seem weird to other people, like that cleaning house thing. Or childish, like the coloring. Or even not super productive to the outside world, like reading a good book. They are the things I really like doing and if I don't do them then I will have nothing to show for all of my time, and really who wants that?
I mentioned in the first blog this week that we need to make sure we do the things we enjoy. That seems like a really easy thing right? But for some reason I have a hard time actually following through.
I like a clean house, as most of you know, but right now it's a mess. Because I've found a lot of other things I either needed or wanted to do this week instead of clean. I'll clean on Monday for sure. And it will get back to the way I like it and I will feel better about it and I will think, "I really need to clean a little bit every day and not do this slide thing" and then I will let it slide again. And yes, I know it's weird to start a blog about things I enjoy with cleaning, but it's true. I like a clean house. I don't mind cleaning because it's one of those chores (now that C is grown) that you can see. Laundry you do and as soon as you get undressed it's undone. Never ending. But a clean house? You get that moment of ahhhh....tracks in the carpet, mirrors sparkling, things tidy. It's done. And I like it.
I like to write. I like to empty my head of some of the clutter so I can rest. I like to put on paper the made up worlds that buzz around me all the time. I like the conversation that happens when something I've written triggers you to write something back to me. But sometimes I will go days without writing anything. Or weeks. And I know that I will be happier once I start writing again but then hours, days, weeks will go by and I won't have written anything.
I like having something, ANYTHING, done at the end of the day. When I pick up Brent or he comes home and asks, "What did you do today?" I want to have something to say. Saying "Nothing" really bugs me. Yet there are days that nothing is what I did. And nothing is all I have to answer.
And those are just three things, I also like coloring (yes, like in kindergarten I have books and pencils and crayons and patterns), I like to take trips, I like to go hiking, I like to do a lot of things that I can't seem to get around to doing. Why? Because I'm too busy doing nothing. And I have no idea why.
Seriously. It's crazy and I know it. There will be days where hours will pass and I will be planning on doing SOMETHING and then I look at the clock and realize it's too late, now I don't have time to do anything. So I've done nothing.
Okay, so now I have to back track just a bit, because I also don't belong to the cult of busy. You know what I mean? People who have turned being busy into a must do thing. I've been part of that crowd. Not by choice but by the way life was laid out at the time. Working, raising a kid, keeping a house, I even added in going to school for a few years in there. I have been in the busy crowd. But I don't fetishize it. I don't worship at the alter of busy. I don't think being slamming busy is a virtue. I believe that time to do nothing and having no appointments or schedules is important. Hell, I haven't worn a watch since C left for college and I can't imagine ever going back to it again. But I also can't stand it when I've let an entire day go by and I have nothing at all to show for it.
Especially when I know I will be happier if I clean my house, color a picture, read a book, write a story, go for a walk...
So what is it? What is it that stops me from doing those things? Laziness? Hmm..maybe. Sometimes. For awhile I wondered if I was depressed and just didn't realize it because it wasn't strong enough to make me stay in bed but too strong to get me off the couch. Then I thought no, that's not it. Because I know people who do suffer from depression and this isn't it. So back to lazy. But if it were complete laziness would it even bug me? So maybe not again. But then what? Easily distracted. That's part of it. Because when I say nothing what I really mean is I played games on my phone and I read news articles and I spent time on Facebook. So it's not nothing like just sitting and staring off in to space, it's nothing like nothing productive. Unless clearing 5 levels in Bejeweled counts...which it doesn't.
And there's also the overwhelming feeling of too much to do sometimes. I know, right? Super weird. But because I have all of my time to myself and all of my options are open to do whatever I want most days I sometimes am just overwhelmed by it all and so I do nothing. Which is crazy. And I get that, I really do. But I don't stop doing it.
And then there is money. Or more accurately my outdated view of money. I like to go on vacations. I like to take trips. I love Disney and Hawaii and San Diego and there is a list of places I have never ever been that I think would be cool to see and I don't go there. Because when I plan out a trip and I get to that bottom line I freak the fuck out. HOW MUCH? ARE YOU KIDDING ME? And I have a hard time following through. But when I do it's great. We had a fabulous time in Chicago this past summer. Disney last Christmas was awesome. And guess what? We didn't go broke paying for them. We still made the house payment and the car payment and didn't even skip a beat at Starbucks. Because we're not broke anymore. We're not living paycheck to paycheck. Or more accurately at the beginning of our marriage it was paycheck to a few days before paycheck. Brent has a really decent job. We have done a good job with savings. You know because I freak out when it comes time to spend the money so it has just stayed in the account, but it's there now and that's the point. Let's see if I can keep that in mind and pull the trigger for a nice trip again soon.
So a goal of mine right now is to stop doing so much nothing and start doing the somethings that I enjoy. Even if they seem weird to other people, like that cleaning house thing. Or childish, like the coloring. Or even not super productive to the outside world, like reading a good book. They are the things I really like doing and if I don't do them then I will have nothing to show for all of my time, and really who wants that?
Thursday, January 2, 2014
Current Goals time!
Okay so yesterday I put out the thought that I should probably set an actual target goal for number of blogs this year. And after much back and forth and complex mathematical calculations that number is...165. There are some of you that think I'm kidding about the complex math and some of you who are laughing knowing that I really did do calculations. Anyway... 165 is the goal. It's more than I've done in years previously, almost twice last year, so challenging, but not so much that I have no hope of reaching it so that's good as well.
That's the deal with goals, you have to be able to reach them. You see it a lot this time of year. People set out these completely out of touch goals for themselves. You've probably done it yourself, I know I have. I'm going to lose 100 pounds, quit smoking, quit drinking, quit caffeine and become an all around nicer person. By March. Because of this my standing joke about Lent has always been "For Lent I'm giving up my New Year's Resolutions" because you do. You drop them just as soon as you realize you are never going to reach them.
For this reason I've become a huge fan of stretch goals and small goals over the years. Stretch goals are the ones you set that are just a space beyond where you really want to be. When I did the 50K word challenge in November my real goal was November 30, my stretch goal was November 22. I ended up hitting my goal on November 25 so I didn't make the stretch goal but I was ahead of the last date possible as well.
There are also small goals to celebrate. Weight Watchers taught me this one. You get recognition for every 5 pounds. As well as 5% and 10% loss. It breaks down that 100 pounds, or 50 or even 10 in to manageable milestones. You don't really have a chance to get down and think you are never going to make it because you are always just a few pounds away from your next celebration. Now, as you all know, this stopped working for me once I hit my goal and then just kept right on going...BUT while I was losing the weight I really needed to it was great. And using the same sort of small goal mindset I learned to give myself a range for my weight, and there is a normal and a holiday range.
And because I'm constantly doing this, setting little goals for myself, I don't really do New Year's Resolutions but I do have things I am working on right now so close enough.
We have the blog, first goal is a blog a day for January. Next goal is 165 for 2014. I don't really have a solid stretch goal in mind yet, but I'm leaning toward 200 as the stretch. It would be a BIG stretch but sometimes stretch goals are just that.
Pull-ups. This one is already a stretch goal (or at least it feels like it) at three. But it's personal so I can't imagine not completing it. There has been much talk about the Marine requirement that everyone, male and female, be able to do the minimum 3 pull-ups. Even with Congressmen weighing in that women just can't do it at all. And then the Marines quietly backing down "temporarily" and going back to the girl pull-up requirement of a 15 second bent arm hang. It bugs me. Three pull ups (hands facing either way, narrow or wide grip) just doesn't seem out of reach. Especially for a Marine! So after bitching about it for a week I finally bought the bar and am trying to see if I can do it. And if I can do it then a recruit can certainly do it! Let me say right now...holy crap this is hard!
And then there are things I wanted to do last year but just didn't. Spanish is the top of the list. I made it a few weeks in to my lessons and just....stopped. I don't know why I stopped. I just did. And first it was like, oh I'm a week behind, I can make that up easily. Then it was two. Then it was a month. And then I just stopped even thinking about it. So next Monday I will start that again. And try to figure out how to make it stick. Because that also happens sometimes. Sometimes it's just not the right time for a new project or new interest. But that doesn't mean you can't go back and try again. Re-goaling.
And I think that's really it for goals right now. I have a few projects, I need to organize the kitchen to fit all of my cool new cooking things. We need to really settle on if we are remodeling or moving but that one has so many moving pieces it's hard to make a decision. I need to work on the story I wrote in November and decide what to do with it. Projects, goals and decisions and since I'm writing more you will hear all about them, so my suggestion to you is set one of your goals as "be a good listener."
Have a great second day of the New Year!
That's the deal with goals, you have to be able to reach them. You see it a lot this time of year. People set out these completely out of touch goals for themselves. You've probably done it yourself, I know I have. I'm going to lose 100 pounds, quit smoking, quit drinking, quit caffeine and become an all around nicer person. By March. Because of this my standing joke about Lent has always been "For Lent I'm giving up my New Year's Resolutions" because you do. You drop them just as soon as you realize you are never going to reach them.
For this reason I've become a huge fan of stretch goals and small goals over the years. Stretch goals are the ones you set that are just a space beyond where you really want to be. When I did the 50K word challenge in November my real goal was November 30, my stretch goal was November 22. I ended up hitting my goal on November 25 so I didn't make the stretch goal but I was ahead of the last date possible as well.
There are also small goals to celebrate. Weight Watchers taught me this one. You get recognition for every 5 pounds. As well as 5% and 10% loss. It breaks down that 100 pounds, or 50 or even 10 in to manageable milestones. You don't really have a chance to get down and think you are never going to make it because you are always just a few pounds away from your next celebration. Now, as you all know, this stopped working for me once I hit my goal and then just kept right on going...BUT while I was losing the weight I really needed to it was great. And using the same sort of small goal mindset I learned to give myself a range for my weight, and there is a normal and a holiday range.
And because I'm constantly doing this, setting little goals for myself, I don't really do New Year's Resolutions but I do have things I am working on right now so close enough.
We have the blog, first goal is a blog a day for January. Next goal is 165 for 2014. I don't really have a solid stretch goal in mind yet, but I'm leaning toward 200 as the stretch. It would be a BIG stretch but sometimes stretch goals are just that.
Pull-ups. This one is already a stretch goal (or at least it feels like it) at three. But it's personal so I can't imagine not completing it. There has been much talk about the Marine requirement that everyone, male and female, be able to do the minimum 3 pull-ups. Even with Congressmen weighing in that women just can't do it at all. And then the Marines quietly backing down "temporarily" and going back to the girl pull-up requirement of a 15 second bent arm hang. It bugs me. Three pull ups (hands facing either way, narrow or wide grip) just doesn't seem out of reach. Especially for a Marine! So after bitching about it for a week I finally bought the bar and am trying to see if I can do it. And if I can do it then a recruit can certainly do it! Let me say right now...holy crap this is hard!
And then there are things I wanted to do last year but just didn't. Spanish is the top of the list. I made it a few weeks in to my lessons and just....stopped. I don't know why I stopped. I just did. And first it was like, oh I'm a week behind, I can make that up easily. Then it was two. Then it was a month. And then I just stopped even thinking about it. So next Monday I will start that again. And try to figure out how to make it stick. Because that also happens sometimes. Sometimes it's just not the right time for a new project or new interest. But that doesn't mean you can't go back and try again. Re-goaling.
And I think that's really it for goals right now. I have a few projects, I need to organize the kitchen to fit all of my cool new cooking things. We need to really settle on if we are remodeling or moving but that one has so many moving pieces it's hard to make a decision. I need to work on the story I wrote in November and decide what to do with it. Projects, goals and decisions and since I'm writing more you will hear all about them, so my suggestion to you is set one of your goals as "be a good listener."
Have a great second day of the New Year!
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
Here we go again...
83
132
Know what those two numbers are? I'll give you a hint. Look to your right. I wrote 83 blogs in 2013. Not too terrible, until I look and see that I wrote 132 in 2012. And also not super great when I realized that there are 365 days in a year so I'm basically not even hitting 50% on a good year!
Well I have reasons. Lots of reasons. This year I wrote other things. Especially in November. And I also posted less political rants this year because I'm sort of disgusted by all of it. So when I redirected the fiction and cut out the rants I didn't have much of interest to say. But honestly I often don't have much of interest to say and yet I persist in saying it.
So, reasons then become excuses.
And the kicker is that I like to write. I enjoy making stuff up. I enjoy writing down the buzz that fills my head on a daily basis. And I like knowing that people are reading what I write. So then the excuses just seem stupid. Why am I not doing the things that I like to do? What is keeping me from doing it? One more game of Bejeweled? One more perusal of Facebook to see if anyone else has written something funny to read? And even on the days that I wrote elsewhere I still missed seeing something go up on the blog.
Isn't that an odd thing? I've had this blog for years and it only has a few hundred postings, but it's fairly important to me. It holds bits of fiction (some of the first I've written as an adult that I've been brave enough to share) and lots of ideas and even more ramblings. It's been the place I write out new goals and post about how I'm doing with them. And I get some feedback from the Facebook page I created to promote the blog and I keep plugging along. But then I have this balance thing that happens.
I like the feedback I get but I don't like to promote it too heavily. I love hearing from people. But I really want it to be people I know. And that's only because it seems like when strangers find their way here they are the people that just like to tell me what a moron I am and how angry they are that they wasted their time reading my blog. Which boggles my brain. I mean what deep insight were you expecting from a blog titled "Totally random but..." But then again I've actually "met" some very cool people who got to know me strictly through the blog so maybe there would be even more cool people just waiting to be met if I promoted it more heavily?
Okay so after all of that build up I just wanted to let you know January is a blog a day month. There will be fiction, new goals, ramblings and possibly some political and religious things as well. Even on days where I am doing my bulk of writing elsewhere, that story from November needs some rewrites and editing, I will make sure to pop something up here. And hopefully this will get me right back in the swing of posting more frequently this year. Hmm...seems like I need a goal number to shoot for, what do you think? What would be a good blog total to aim for in 2014? Realistic and yet challenging?
Happy New Year! Let's make 2014 the year we remember to do the things we ENJOY! Oh! That is totally going to be the subject of another blog this week!
132
Know what those two numbers are? I'll give you a hint. Look to your right. I wrote 83 blogs in 2013. Not too terrible, until I look and see that I wrote 132 in 2012. And also not super great when I realized that there are 365 days in a year so I'm basically not even hitting 50% on a good year!
Well I have reasons. Lots of reasons. This year I wrote other things. Especially in November. And I also posted less political rants this year because I'm sort of disgusted by all of it. So when I redirected the fiction and cut out the rants I didn't have much of interest to say. But honestly I often don't have much of interest to say and yet I persist in saying it.
So, reasons then become excuses.
And the kicker is that I like to write. I enjoy making stuff up. I enjoy writing down the buzz that fills my head on a daily basis. And I like knowing that people are reading what I write. So then the excuses just seem stupid. Why am I not doing the things that I like to do? What is keeping me from doing it? One more game of Bejeweled? One more perusal of Facebook to see if anyone else has written something funny to read? And even on the days that I wrote elsewhere I still missed seeing something go up on the blog.
Isn't that an odd thing? I've had this blog for years and it only has a few hundred postings, but it's fairly important to me. It holds bits of fiction (some of the first I've written as an adult that I've been brave enough to share) and lots of ideas and even more ramblings. It's been the place I write out new goals and post about how I'm doing with them. And I get some feedback from the Facebook page I created to promote the blog and I keep plugging along. But then I have this balance thing that happens.
I like the feedback I get but I don't like to promote it too heavily. I love hearing from people. But I really want it to be people I know. And that's only because it seems like when strangers find their way here they are the people that just like to tell me what a moron I am and how angry they are that they wasted their time reading my blog. Which boggles my brain. I mean what deep insight were you expecting from a blog titled "Totally random but..." But then again I've actually "met" some very cool people who got to know me strictly through the blog so maybe there would be even more cool people just waiting to be met if I promoted it more heavily?
Okay so after all of that build up I just wanted to let you know January is a blog a day month. There will be fiction, new goals, ramblings and possibly some political and religious things as well. Even on days where I am doing my bulk of writing elsewhere, that story from November needs some rewrites and editing, I will make sure to pop something up here. And hopefully this will get me right back in the swing of posting more frequently this year. Hmm...seems like I need a goal number to shoot for, what do you think? What would be a good blog total to aim for in 2014? Realistic and yet challenging?
Happy New Year! Let's make 2014 the year we remember to do the things we ENJOY! Oh! That is totally going to be the subject of another blog this week!
Friday, December 13, 2013
I believe too...
Part One: I believe...
Part Two:
"Hi, I'm Bob, and I'm a drug addict."
"Hi, Bob."
"I always like that part." (laughter) "So first off, Merry Christmas. I would guess most of you are here because you really need a meeting today. I can understand that. I'm here because I run this meeting every year. Today is my anniversary. It's been 22 years since I last used cocaine." (applause) "Thank you. So today we're talking Step 3. Turning our lives over to god as we understand him. The higher power step. Now I'm going to tell you a little secret, we are in the place for that after all."(laughter) "My higher power is Santa Claus." (laughter) "No really. Santa Claus.
The last day, the bottom of the barrel day was Christmas 22 years ago. I had gone to midnight services with my family the night before and then ducked out to 'pick something up at the store'. They all knew that the odds of me coming back weren't good. And the odds of me coming back straight were slim to none. My mother pulled me over to the side and told me if I went out and got high to not come back to the house that day. She wouldn't have me around the rest of the family like that. She had to think of her grandchildren. Now this just set me off. My father had been an alcoholic the entire time I was growing up and she had never seemed concerned about him being around us, but now all of a sudden I wasn't good enough to be around her precious grandchildren? Well fuck that. I didn't need any of them anyway. So I went to a bar to get a quick drink to take the edge off. I would show her I was just fine. Logical right? Instead of getting high I would get drunk and that, that my friends would show her." (nods all around)
"So after a couple of drinks I decided that what difference did it matter anyway? I wasn't going back to my mother's house that day so I might as well do what I wanted. I headed downtown. Found a friend who was looking for a party. Hey I was also looking for a party so yeah, come on along!" (laughter) "My new friend knew someone that was selling, which was great because she and I used up the stash I had pretty quickly. She made a call and we set off to meet up with him. Now by this time it's Christmas morning. I'm feeling sorry for myself and getting a little anxious waiting for her dealer to show up. We are walking around waiting. And I'm doing the junkie math in my head. I've got $150 in my pocket. She was going to want to get paid, he was going to want to get paid and it was 6 days until pay day so I need something to live off of as well. Now you all know how junkie math works right? You take what you have subtract the money you need for drugs and then panic because you have nothing left and need more drugs." (laughter) "I knew we had some former math majors in here.
"So while my new friend and I are waiting I hear this little voice. It's a kid. She's sitting on the stoop of the rescue mission talking to herself. Then I realize she isn't talking to herself, she's talking to her doll. She is telling her doll how sorry she is. How she's sorry she said she wished she hadn't gotten the doll for Christmas but she had asked Santa for the money just so she and her mother would have a place to live. She telling the doll how sorry she is that she isn't good enough. How she couldn't stop her father from drinking or beating her mother but that she would be good to her doll. It's okay wipe your tears, we're all friends here. Right then I knew I had a bigger choice to make than how much I could spend on coke and the party girl and still eat tomorrow. I saw myself sitting out there. Nursing a black eye from dear old dad. And I thought, well nobody rescued me. And then I thought again. Nobody rescued me.
I looked over to my new friend thinking about how she was going to react when I told her what I was going to do and saw the tears in her eyes. I knew then that she would be on board.
We walked over to that darling angel and introduced ourselves as Mr. and Mrs. Claus. I gave her the money she had asked Santa for, along with a pretty good story as to why it was late, one thing we are good at is telling stories, right?" (laughter) "And then when she went inside to get her mother I came to my senses. A junkie and a hooker on your stoop on Christmas Day isn't really the miracle most people are looking for. We left a note for her and hid in the alley. Watching her mother break down and cry and hold that child...that was my turning point.
I did go to my mother's house that day, and she drove me to rehab that night. And every year I remember and I retell. Christmas miracles take a lot of forms. And your higher power can be what you need it to be. But for me, I believe in Santa Claus."
Part Two:
"Hi, I'm Bob, and I'm a drug addict."
"Hi, Bob."
"I always like that part." (laughter) "So first off, Merry Christmas. I would guess most of you are here because you really need a meeting today. I can understand that. I'm here because I run this meeting every year. Today is my anniversary. It's been 22 years since I last used cocaine." (applause) "Thank you. So today we're talking Step 3. Turning our lives over to god as we understand him. The higher power step. Now I'm going to tell you a little secret, we are in the place for that after all."(laughter) "My higher power is Santa Claus." (laughter) "No really. Santa Claus.
The last day, the bottom of the barrel day was Christmas 22 years ago. I had gone to midnight services with my family the night before and then ducked out to 'pick something up at the store'. They all knew that the odds of me coming back weren't good. And the odds of me coming back straight were slim to none. My mother pulled me over to the side and told me if I went out and got high to not come back to the house that day. She wouldn't have me around the rest of the family like that. She had to think of her grandchildren. Now this just set me off. My father had been an alcoholic the entire time I was growing up and she had never seemed concerned about him being around us, but now all of a sudden I wasn't good enough to be around her precious grandchildren? Well fuck that. I didn't need any of them anyway. So I went to a bar to get a quick drink to take the edge off. I would show her I was just fine. Logical right? Instead of getting high I would get drunk and that, that my friends would show her." (nods all around)
"So after a couple of drinks I decided that what difference did it matter anyway? I wasn't going back to my mother's house that day so I might as well do what I wanted. I headed downtown. Found a friend who was looking for a party. Hey I was also looking for a party so yeah, come on along!" (laughter) "My new friend knew someone that was selling, which was great because she and I used up the stash I had pretty quickly. She made a call and we set off to meet up with him. Now by this time it's Christmas morning. I'm feeling sorry for myself and getting a little anxious waiting for her dealer to show up. We are walking around waiting. And I'm doing the junkie math in my head. I've got $150 in my pocket. She was going to want to get paid, he was going to want to get paid and it was 6 days until pay day so I need something to live off of as well. Now you all know how junkie math works right? You take what you have subtract the money you need for drugs and then panic because you have nothing left and need more drugs." (laughter) "I knew we had some former math majors in here.
"So while my new friend and I are waiting I hear this little voice. It's a kid. She's sitting on the stoop of the rescue mission talking to herself. Then I realize she isn't talking to herself, she's talking to her doll. She is telling her doll how sorry she is. How she's sorry she said she wished she hadn't gotten the doll for Christmas but she had asked Santa for the money just so she and her mother would have a place to live. She telling the doll how sorry she is that she isn't good enough. How she couldn't stop her father from drinking or beating her mother but that she would be good to her doll. It's okay wipe your tears, we're all friends here. Right then I knew I had a bigger choice to make than how much I could spend on coke and the party girl and still eat tomorrow. I saw myself sitting out there. Nursing a black eye from dear old dad. And I thought, well nobody rescued me. And then I thought again. Nobody rescued me.
I looked over to my new friend thinking about how she was going to react when I told her what I was going to do and saw the tears in her eyes. I knew then that she would be on board.
We walked over to that darling angel and introduced ourselves as Mr. and Mrs. Claus. I gave her the money she had asked Santa for, along with a pretty good story as to why it was late, one thing we are good at is telling stories, right?" (laughter) "And then when she went inside to get her mother I came to my senses. A junkie and a hooker on your stoop on Christmas Day isn't really the miracle most people are looking for. We left a note for her and hid in the alley. Watching her mother break down and cry and hold that child...that was my turning point.
I did go to my mother's house that day, and she drove me to rehab that night. And every year I remember and I retell. Christmas miracles take a lot of forms. And your higher power can be what you need it to be. But for me, I believe in Santa Claus."
I believe...
"I am so glad that's over," James passed drinks around the table, "Is there anything worse than an office Christmas party?"
"Gee, thanks, we all liked hanging out with you as well!" Alice tossed a wadded up napkin at James.
"No, you know what I mean. I love you guys. This group right here, this is perfect. But having to be social with Mr. Patterson? And his wife? What do you even say to them?"
"Generally Merry Christmas, but that could just be me." Carrie deadpanned.
"I've worked for the company for 4 years and she still introduces herself to me every year. I'm never sure if I should say we've already met or just act like it's the first time. 'Hi, I'm Ed. Just like I was last year and the year before that, and the year before that.'"
Ed turned to Carrie, "You've been there 8 years, does she know you yet?"
"Sort of. She recognizes me, but she is pretty sure my name is Karen. I just roll with it. It's one night a year. And it's Christmas so why not just smile and be nice?"
"Whatever, I'm just glad it's over for another year. The only thing left to get through is Christmas Eve with Eric's family and Christmas Day with mine." Alice took a big drink, "And thanks to my friend here, I will make it through just fine."
"Here, here!" James raised his glass and the four friends and co-workers toasted. "Here's to another Christmas Party done!"
"God, I can't wait until January." Ed leaned back in his chair already looking exhausted.
"Not me, I like Christmas."
"Carrie believes in Santa Claus."
There was a pause at the table then Ed and Alice both started to laugh.
"No, really, she does. Tell them, Carrie."
"Thanks, James, for sharing that with everyone. Yes, I believe in Santa Claus."
"Holy shit, you're serious! Okay, spill, there has to be a story here." Alice drained her glass and signaled to the bartender for another round for the group.
"There isn't much of a story really. When I was five I met him. I've believed ever since."
"Oh no, there is more to it than that. We all met the man when we were little. The trudge to the mall. What are you leaving out?"
"It was Christmas day, I was 5. We didn't have a lot growing up and that year we moved right before the holiday so it was even more spare than normal. I had asked Santa for something really specific and I didn't get it. So Christmas morning I was sitting outside on our steps telling my new doll that she shouldn't have hurt feelings that she wasn't my first choice for Christmas and that I would be a good doll mom. I wanted her to know that is wasn't her fault I hadn't been a good enough girl to get what I had asked for."
"Aww...."
"Yes, yes, I was an adorable child. It's a fact. Anyway, while I was sitting outside talking to my new doll he showed up. He came over to me, introduced himself, apologized for missing my gift under the tree, but he hadn't gotten the message I had moved in time. It wasn't until he was back at the North Pole unpacking from the trip the he found out what the mix up was. He told me I had been on the good list, it was just that this was a busy time of year and though it didn't happen often, sometimes they made mistakes. Then he gave me the gift I had asked for and wished me a Merry Christmas and left. How can you not believe after that?"
James spread his hands out and leaned back, "See? She believes in Santa. And that is my Christmas gift to you."
Alice and Ed both smiled at Carrie. She gave them the half smirk half smile they were used to seeing at work, "I'm not embarrassed by it. I'm not ashamed. I don't generally tell people because they think I'm crazy. James heard the story a few Christmases ago when I had had a little more nog than usual and was feeling chatty. He loves to drop it on people to see their reactions."
"Well I think it's sweet."
"I think there is probably an explanation, like it was a friend of the family who knew what you wanted and your folks remembered at the last minute."
"Always practical, Ed. But nope. Couldn't have been. I never told anyone. The only person who knew was Santa. I wrote it in the letter and sent it myself. Look, it's fine, I know that it's odd for a grown woman to still believe but I do. And because I do, I love Christmas."
The friends sat together for a little while longer before calling it a night and heading home. As Carrie got ready for bed she thought back to her Santa story. She hadn't really lied to her friends but she hadn't really told them the whole truth either. Some things she just didn't share with anyone.
They had just moved, that was true. But it was to a shelter for abused women. On Thanksgiving her father had gotten even more drunk than usual, and he was usually pretty drunk, and had beaten her mother so badly she ended up in the emergency room. They had gone directly from the emergency room to the shelter. But the emergency shelter could only keep them for a month. Carrie had overheard her mother on the phone with her parents asking them for the $100 it would take to get them a room in a halfway house for January. She had a job and would be able to pay the rent after that, but she didn't have enough right now.
Carrie's grandparents had disapproved of her parent's marriage and had warned her mother if she left she was dead to them. Carrie had never even met them. So it wasn't much of a surprise when Carrie found her mother in tears by the phone. Carrie knew that they needed that money and since Christmas was coming she also knew exactly how to get it. She had written the letter that night and dropped it in the mail the next morning. All she wanted was $100. She knew that was a big gift but she had faith.
When Christmas morning came and the volunteers handed out Christmas presents all Carrie got was a doll. She asked if there was anything else, or if there had been a mix up with her gift and was quickly reprimanded by the woman who ran the shelter. She should be grateful for what she got and not be so greedy to ask for more.
Carrie had then taken the doll outside to the front steps of the shelter to apologize for not being good enough. Not good enough to keep her father from getting drunk and hitting her mother. Not being good enough to keep her mother safe. Not being good enough to get the gift from Santa that would make it possible for her and her mother to have someplace to live. She also promised her Christmas doll that she would be the best doll mommy she could and that nobody would ever hurt her.
While she had been talking to her doll a man and woman had walked over to her. He introduced himself as Santa Claus, she hadn't recognized him because he wasn't wearing his red suit and he had a clean shaven face. He explained that he and Mrs. Claus were on their way to take their annual post Christmas vacation and he always traveled incognito (at the time she had no idea what that meant and thought maybe it had something to do with walking, years later when she heard the word in school she almost shouted OH! out loud). He also told her how her letter had gotten delayed and that the elves were very sorry she didn't get her gift right away but he had it for her now. Then he handed her a $100 bill. He also gave her an extra $20 and told her that she could use that for anything she wanted. Because not only was she on the nice list, but she was at the very top.
Carrie had been stunned. He had come through for her. She wasn't a bad girl, she was on the nice list. She had Santa and Mrs. Claus wait for her on the steps while she ran in to get her mother so she could meet them as well. When she came back out they were gone. They left a note saying they had to run to catch a plane since the reindeer needed a vacation as well but to have a very Merry Christmas. She gave the money to her mother and explained everything that had happened. Her mother sat on the steps of the shelter with Carrie hugging her and crying and saying she was the best girl ever.
When she got older she came up with at least a half a dozen explanations for her encounter with Santa Claus but in the end decided that what she wanted was to believe. And so she did and still does.
"Gee, thanks, we all liked hanging out with you as well!" Alice tossed a wadded up napkin at James.
"No, you know what I mean. I love you guys. This group right here, this is perfect. But having to be social with Mr. Patterson? And his wife? What do you even say to them?"
"Generally Merry Christmas, but that could just be me." Carrie deadpanned.
"I've worked for the company for 4 years and she still introduces herself to me every year. I'm never sure if I should say we've already met or just act like it's the first time. 'Hi, I'm Ed. Just like I was last year and the year before that, and the year before that.'"
Ed turned to Carrie, "You've been there 8 years, does she know you yet?"
"Sort of. She recognizes me, but she is pretty sure my name is Karen. I just roll with it. It's one night a year. And it's Christmas so why not just smile and be nice?"
"Whatever, I'm just glad it's over for another year. The only thing left to get through is Christmas Eve with Eric's family and Christmas Day with mine." Alice took a big drink, "And thanks to my friend here, I will make it through just fine."
"Here, here!" James raised his glass and the four friends and co-workers toasted. "Here's to another Christmas Party done!"
"God, I can't wait until January." Ed leaned back in his chair already looking exhausted.
"Not me, I like Christmas."
"Carrie believes in Santa Claus."
There was a pause at the table then Ed and Alice both started to laugh.
"No, really, she does. Tell them, Carrie."
"Thanks, James, for sharing that with everyone. Yes, I believe in Santa Claus."
"Holy shit, you're serious! Okay, spill, there has to be a story here." Alice drained her glass and signaled to the bartender for another round for the group.
"There isn't much of a story really. When I was five I met him. I've believed ever since."
"Oh no, there is more to it than that. We all met the man when we were little. The trudge to the mall. What are you leaving out?"
"It was Christmas day, I was 5. We didn't have a lot growing up and that year we moved right before the holiday so it was even more spare than normal. I had asked Santa for something really specific and I didn't get it. So Christmas morning I was sitting outside on our steps telling my new doll that she shouldn't have hurt feelings that she wasn't my first choice for Christmas and that I would be a good doll mom. I wanted her to know that is wasn't her fault I hadn't been a good enough girl to get what I had asked for."
"Aww...."
"Yes, yes, I was an adorable child. It's a fact. Anyway, while I was sitting outside talking to my new doll he showed up. He came over to me, introduced himself, apologized for missing my gift under the tree, but he hadn't gotten the message I had moved in time. It wasn't until he was back at the North Pole unpacking from the trip the he found out what the mix up was. He told me I had been on the good list, it was just that this was a busy time of year and though it didn't happen often, sometimes they made mistakes. Then he gave me the gift I had asked for and wished me a Merry Christmas and left. How can you not believe after that?"
James spread his hands out and leaned back, "See? She believes in Santa. And that is my Christmas gift to you."
Alice and Ed both smiled at Carrie. She gave them the half smirk half smile they were used to seeing at work, "I'm not embarrassed by it. I'm not ashamed. I don't generally tell people because they think I'm crazy. James heard the story a few Christmases ago when I had had a little more nog than usual and was feeling chatty. He loves to drop it on people to see their reactions."
"Well I think it's sweet."
"I think there is probably an explanation, like it was a friend of the family who knew what you wanted and your folks remembered at the last minute."
"Always practical, Ed. But nope. Couldn't have been. I never told anyone. The only person who knew was Santa. I wrote it in the letter and sent it myself. Look, it's fine, I know that it's odd for a grown woman to still believe but I do. And because I do, I love Christmas."
The friends sat together for a little while longer before calling it a night and heading home. As Carrie got ready for bed she thought back to her Santa story. She hadn't really lied to her friends but she hadn't really told them the whole truth either. Some things she just didn't share with anyone.
They had just moved, that was true. But it was to a shelter for abused women. On Thanksgiving her father had gotten even more drunk than usual, and he was usually pretty drunk, and had beaten her mother so badly she ended up in the emergency room. They had gone directly from the emergency room to the shelter. But the emergency shelter could only keep them for a month. Carrie had overheard her mother on the phone with her parents asking them for the $100 it would take to get them a room in a halfway house for January. She had a job and would be able to pay the rent after that, but she didn't have enough right now.
Carrie's grandparents had disapproved of her parent's marriage and had warned her mother if she left she was dead to them. Carrie had never even met them. So it wasn't much of a surprise when Carrie found her mother in tears by the phone. Carrie knew that they needed that money and since Christmas was coming she also knew exactly how to get it. She had written the letter that night and dropped it in the mail the next morning. All she wanted was $100. She knew that was a big gift but she had faith.
When Christmas morning came and the volunteers handed out Christmas presents all Carrie got was a doll. She asked if there was anything else, or if there had been a mix up with her gift and was quickly reprimanded by the woman who ran the shelter. She should be grateful for what she got and not be so greedy to ask for more.
Carrie had then taken the doll outside to the front steps of the shelter to apologize for not being good enough. Not good enough to keep her father from getting drunk and hitting her mother. Not being good enough to keep her mother safe. Not being good enough to get the gift from Santa that would make it possible for her and her mother to have someplace to live. She also promised her Christmas doll that she would be the best doll mommy she could and that nobody would ever hurt her.
While she had been talking to her doll a man and woman had walked over to her. He introduced himself as Santa Claus, she hadn't recognized him because he wasn't wearing his red suit and he had a clean shaven face. He explained that he and Mrs. Claus were on their way to take their annual post Christmas vacation and he always traveled incognito (at the time she had no idea what that meant and thought maybe it had something to do with walking, years later when she heard the word in school she almost shouted OH! out loud). He also told her how her letter had gotten delayed and that the elves were very sorry she didn't get her gift right away but he had it for her now. Then he handed her a $100 bill. He also gave her an extra $20 and told her that she could use that for anything she wanted. Because not only was she on the nice list, but she was at the very top.
Carrie had been stunned. He had come through for her. She wasn't a bad girl, she was on the nice list. She had Santa and Mrs. Claus wait for her on the steps while she ran in to get her mother so she could meet them as well. When she came back out they were gone. They left a note saying they had to run to catch a plane since the reindeer needed a vacation as well but to have a very Merry Christmas. She gave the money to her mother and explained everything that had happened. Her mother sat on the steps of the shelter with Carrie hugging her and crying and saying she was the best girl ever.
When she got older she came up with at least a half a dozen explanations for her encounter with Santa Claus but in the end decided that what she wanted was to believe. And so she did and still does.
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