Little Joyful Things

I feel that it is when you most feel like total "fertilizer" that you need to step back and think about your abundant blessings.

Well, I do anyway.

So, setting aside my foul mood, nausea, tiredness, pain and angst, I am praising GOD for the many, many blessings He pours on my head every single day!  A short list:

1. I can physically do everything I want to do on a daily basis.  I can walk, run, tie my shoelaces, sit at a computer, smile, do my own hair, talk to everyone and hear their responses.

2. I have access to first-world medical care for those times I struggle with #1.

3.  I can read.  THANK YOU GOD!

4.  I have choices of abundant food.  I have access to anything I desire to eat, wear or use. I lack for nothing.

5. I have beautiful, kind and loving friends and family who believe in me and support my life decisions.

6.  I have job I really enjoy that pays me well.

7.  My co-workers ROCK!

8.  I live in a part of the globe that people from all over the world travel to see and experience.

9.  I have a neurotic little dog who is one of my best friends.

10.  I am blessed by a loving and caring God who really does think of me as one of His favorites!  :-)  He is especially fond of me.

Recognizing my blessings doesn't take away my physical pain, or a whole lot of angst, but it DOES remind me that in my self-centered focus on problems, I forget to see all the things that make life joyful and worth the effort.

Because it is.

Strange Days

Strangest week.  Pulling myself out of bed every morning to get to the gym has required a strength of mind usually reserved for attacking the Great Wall of China or crossing the Alps.

It doesn't help that this nausea thing has expanded to include pretty much every time I eat.  Travelers on I-17 North yesterday were treated to a lovely sight of me losing lunch by the side of the road.  I barely made it to the restroom this morning at Wildflower before my $7 eggs-and-toast made a reappearance.  I've halved my morning green shake and sip it very slowly with lots of time between sips.

Apparently, my stomach of iron is corroding.  I suspect an ulcer, but I will hopefully get some relief from going to the doctor later this morning for her insight.

Due to poor planning and procrastinating from discontent on my part, by the time I arrived at the gym this morning, I had about 20 minutes to get in a workout.  20 minutes means core!  Yay abs!  There were a lot of scary guys in the weight room, and not feeling my usual chipper self and a bit self-conscious that I would throw up in front of them, I just went straight to the stretching mats and did my thing there.

My frustration with myself turned into delight that I actually showed up and did something worthwhile.

How?  I just decided that dwelling on it didn't help.  And I had breakfast with my dear Lori this morning, and she is ACES at reminding me that everything really is okay, and everyone gets overwhelmed sometimes, and she is totally okay with the crying thing.  (sobbing and saying, "really, everything is fine!" does seem a bit incongruous in hindsight.)

Except everything IS fine, and sometimes, it is okay to be human and tired and sad and not sure where to turn or what to do.  And someone holding your hand and saying, "It really will be okay" makes it feel that yes, it really will be okay.

Wintery Spring

I've had a lot of swirly thoughts lately.  I'm on my way to a funeral in a few minutes, and so this inevitably makes me think about death and other funerals and what it means to be part of a community or a family.

Most of a relationship, I truly believe, lies simply in showing up... you show up for the big events and little events and times when someone needs you and times when you just want to hang out with them.  You never have enough time in your life to develop proper relationships, so you have to MAKE time.  If you spend more time on Face Book than actually talking to other people, maybe there is a good way to get some extra time in your day.

I had an epically bad date the other night and of course I had to make fun of it and try to make sense of it all.  One thing I am aware of that really points out the sea change of the last two years... Two years ago, I would have spent the entire evening with this lout, trying to "fix" the situation, wondering what I was doing wrong, trying to MAKE him like me!  That night, a few minutes in, as the sensation of drowning was beginning to overtake me, I simply thought, "This guy is horrid company, how do I get out of here without being so rude I later feel bad about myself?"

In a way, that is kind of how I am learning to approach many relationships:  It is not up to me to fix other people, or their lives or situations... and I certainly don't need everyone to like me any more.  (I still prefer it that way, but no longer spend time in angst wondering how to change someone's attitude toward me.)

It has been a very strange week with a lot of pulling in different directions.  It has been a bit of wintery spring, and not just because of the cold, gray skies and bit of snow.

Screenplay

I am now the possessor of so many bad first dates that I can write a screenplay.  In fact, instead of writing it from the perspective of the hapless victim, I believe I shall write it from the point of view of the Bad Date himself, an amalgam of:

The guy last night who seemed dripping with negativity;
The guy a couple years ago who kept staring at my chest and after 45 minutes asked me back to his place;
The guy who kept repeating, "You are so beautiful, really, so beautiful, I don't even care that you are chubby!"
The guy who had a smile like a serial killer;
The guy who shared he smoked weed like he was a member of a reggae band and wondered if that would be okay with me;
The God-bashing atheist;
The guy who said I remind him of his mom;
The guy who said I remind him of his ex;
The guy who sent his "wing man" in to check me out before he came in to introduce himself;
The guy with horrible table manners -and a beard;
The guy who, when we hugged goodbye, literally picked me up;
The 30-something still living with his parents and saving up to buy a car;
The guy who ordered food like a bitchy little cheerleader;
A couple of guys who were simply rude to the server at the restaurant;
The guy who complained about how big the portions are at the restaurant and said, "You know, we can ask for boxes right now and put half of it away so we aren't tempted!"
The guy who showed me photos of his paintings, all of which depicted some sort of violent act;
The guy who shared freely his idiot opinion that all pro-life people are idiots who don't understand science; (And I asked him if he would like to meet all the pro-life scientists in my family..?)
The guy who never blinked;
The guy who shared he was into S&M and asked if I wanted to see his "toybox;" (I excused myself from the table, went out the back door, ran to my car and drove straight to a friend's house to spend the night.)
The guy who shared he was not, umm, "well-endowed" but that he makes up for it with his creativity;
The guy who pointed out that pancakes for breakfast aren't very healthy and maybe I ought to order something else -and that I ate a lot for a girl. (Although, to be fair, I told him to suck it, and we ended up dating for 4 years. He made a bad first impression, but he was actually a very nice guy who needed better social skills.  By the time I was done with him, he had them.)


This is why I keep small bills in my wallet when I go out on a blind date.  It enables me to quickly count out my share of the tab and tip and exit quickly.

To be fair, I have been on quite a few lovely first dates as well, but who cares about those?  No humor there!

In the past four years I have been in Flagstaff, I have been in a dating wasteland.

I had made the quiet decision before I ever even met Mr. Negativity that I was done dating in Flagstaff.  The only reason I went through with it was because it was in the works before I made that decision.  This experience helped me understand that is one of the best decisions I have ever made.

And I am now off the market.

Easter Week

This week went by like lightning.  My job can be completely absorbing sometimes.  I've got one of those complicated jobs where I deal with several different constituencies, have greatly varied responsibilities, and also have to produce a certain amount of "product" measured in my field as "money in the door."  I'm a specialized sort of fund raiser that deals with anything more complicated than writing a check, like art or land or trusts.  Then, I accidentally proved good at a couple other things and got promoted to do stuff like strategic planning and listening to people complain about the imperfections inherent in the system. 

In fact, during a meeting yesterday morning, an unusual circumstance presented itself and MY boss interrupted the speaker, saying, "That's crazy shit... that goes to Anne... oddities and absurdities are her job!"

Which suits me fine and caters a bit to my ADHD.  Always something new happening.

But I lose track of time and sometimes have to sit back on my heels in my yard and think, Really, what did I DO this week? 

When you are in the midst of it, you don't realize how much you are doing.  And like many people I know, all you see is the stuff left on your to-do list, not the stuff you've checked off.

This week was amazing.

I had great workouts every single day and tried a bunch of fun new stuff to boot!  I met very interesting people who want to do something amazing for my university and my state and we are moving forward with plans.  I was going off course in something that is very meaningful to me on a personal level, and had to be brave and reset the direction, and it is all turning out really good.  I got caught up on something I was shamefully behind on.  I had a lot of meetings.  I had to revise my travel plans for next week due to an unexpected funeral next Wednesday.  My Godchild's birthday was this week, and I still cannot believe that this beautiful 19 yr old is the same human whose tiny toes and fingers we carefully counted and whose eyelashes we marvelled at.  I woke up this morning with my abs aching from laughing so hard last night as some friends and I wandered about downtown Flagstaff, stopping every five feet to chat with someone we know.

I just keep thinking how amazing it is that God put all of these people and activities in my path and I got to experience so much of life so very, very quickly -some really beautiful things and really breathtaking people.

What a happy Easter week!!

Heading Home

Good Friday, I woke up and had a lovely morning walking around Flagstaff and feeling all badass.  As I was kneeling through the Stations of the Cross at noon, it suddenly hit me.

It is time to go home.  I'm ready.

I'm from Indiana originally, first South Bend, then a few years in Evansville, then West Lafayette for undergrad and Valparaiso for law school.  In my mid-30s I moved back for a couple years to try out the convent and promptly moved away when that didn't pan out.  I've lived a lot of different places since then.

I do not often visit.  I have friends back there, and we keep up with each other mostly on Facebook and email.  I have family, but given the delicate dance my dad and I do to stay civil with each other, it has been wiser to stay away for a while.  (Mostly me, honestly.  I get more aggravated with my dad than he does with me.)

It has been over two years since I went back to Indiana.

The funny thing about my birth state -I refer to it as "home" but it doesn't FEEL like home, but it still is the place with the BEST doughnuts and BEST candy and BEST German food and MOST BEAUTIFUL scenery, and a people I understand.  Hoosiers never make it long term in Minnesota, because a Hoosier is direct and blunt and occasionally offensive, where Minnesotans smile and nod and completely ignore you and sometimes undermine you in the name of non-confrontation.  (I think even my dear MN friends would agree with this.)  I like blunt, most days.  Confrontation is second nature to a people raised with the idea that "he needed killin'" is a viable defense.

Maybe that's why AZ fits me so well.  These people are downright combative.

I was chatting with a friend this morning about how when you aren't secure in your own self, it doesn't take much to throw you off.  People content in their own dysfunction have an investment in your dysfunction, and they know the buttons to push.  So, I've stayed away for two years, working on my own head and heart and stability.

The last time I went home, I was a head case for over a month.  I am quite confident that this time, the visit will be pleasant and maybe even fun, and I can keep my expectations low and my positive attitude high.

I am finding I am missing that part of Indiana that pulls at my heart and calls me back.

Crack Bunnies and Goals

Like Achilles, Superman, and heroes throughout time, I have a weakness.

This candy's trademarked name is "Reesters" but I personally feel it is better labelled: Crack Bunnies.   They are the perfect balance of chocolate and peanut butter and perfect to just pop in your mouth and impossible to stop eating once I start.  Even once I hit the point of feeling slightly ill, I just can't stop.

Addiction isn't pretty, people.

I came up with some good goals a couple weeks ago and actually am well on my way to achieving them, yay me.  Crack bunnies went on sale the day after Easter, and of COURSE, I ended up going home with a couple bags.  I sacrificed one to my trainer because I knew, KNEW that if I went home with both, then they both would get eaten, solely by me, growling at Roxy to stay away.

As it was, the entire bag got eaten last night.  In my slightly numb and very glassy-eyed state, I just had to shake my head.  I knew this would happen.  Part of me even wanted it to, when I am being brutally honest with myself.  Numb is kind of nice sometimes.

Still, this morning, I got up early, ate my green shake, headed to my killer yogaish class and rebooted.  I spent zero time in the guilt zone over the binge.

Guilt, I've found, is counter-productive.  When I let guilt take over my decision-making, my decision-making never improves.  Did I miss my mark yesterday?  Yes, I did.  Did it completely derail all my good work?  Of course not!

The point in all of this isn't to never fall or fail or to be perfect every single moment.  What is "perfection" in all this, anyway?  My sense of what is right for me now is different than it was a year ago, or two years ago, and definitely 10 years ago!

When you have moved away from the thought pattern of, "This sucks and it feels like punishment!" to "I am loving myself enough to take good care of myself -eating well, exercising, making rational life decisions!" the falls aren't permanent or a sign of how THINGS WILL NEVER CHANGE AND I WILL ALWAYS BE A COMPLETE FUCK UP, which at one point in my life seemed written in granite and tattooed on my scalp.  The falls simply remind me now that perfection has never been an attainable goal, and when you fall down seven times, you get up eight -and marvel at how much better you are at getting up than you were the first seven times.

Persistence, not power, lets a river wear down a rock.