so this is Christmas

It's Christmas. I'm at my parents', listening to Elvis sing "Blue Christmas" and Israel yell at someone in Chinese. It's kind of funny.

It's nice to be here. Michal gave me a manicure and painted my nails earlier. Joy's Australian friend is here so we had good southern food like collard greens and fried chicken tonight. I made a pie crust, we sang along with the Young Messiah, and watched The Christmas Story. I think it gets funnier the older I get.

Last night I went to TanJoe's. On the way I drove by the site of our house that once burned part way on Christmas day 15 years ago. It's been a good week seeing my family and friends. I met some really interesting people and learned how to make limoncello.

I do wish California and Georgia weren't so far away from each other, but I'm glad J gets to be with his family. I just found out that if I had done the trip I was supposed to do this week I would be snowed in in Wichita until at least tomorrow night. Instead of Jack Frost nipping at our noses we have his cousin George Drizzle dripping down our necks... Such is Christmas in Georgia. I'm glad to be here. I'm going to sleep.

From the land of cheese and chard

I was awake this morning as we came across the Atlantic and started seeing the French coastline. I looked down at all the lights, all the small villages, and thought how funny it is that there are people sleeping down there who speak a different language than I do, may never leave their village, and don't care about America. It's a wonderful reality check. I realize I have been homebound too long when thoughts like this make an impression on me. It's so easy to get caught up in my little life. To think that what is going on personally and in the US is so important. It's easy to forget that there are billions of people in the world who have equally significant and interesting lives. Sometimes it overwhelms me because I want to meet all of them and know I never will.

Jonathan and I spent the afternoon walking around the village where his friends live. It's right on the edge of Lake Zurich. The sun came out in the late afternoon and gave everything a creamsicle glow. There is a wonderful mixture of old and new here. His friends' apartment is the most comfortable European apartment I've ever been in. It has a full size shower and bath. It is warm, and I didn't feel like the hot water was going to run out if I took more than three minutes. It's on the top (fourth) floor of the building and has windows that face the lake. I'm not sure if it's a renovated old building or if it's new. The elevator is officially the smallest I have ever seen. It's about 2.5 feet square, though that might be an exaggeration. It makes me realize how big everything is back home. Even the bottle of shampoo and body wash are smaller here. I don't know why this is. I wonder if they have the 164oz. big gulps at the petrol stations...

Now we're waiting for our host to get off work so we can celebrate Jonathan's 38th birthday. I'm not suffering from jetlag so much as I'm suffering from mass body clock confusion. It's been dark here for an hour and I couldn't remember if it was just after noon back home or just after midnight. Oh well.

The trains running on the opposite side of the shore look like sparkly centipedes crawling among the buildings. It's a beautiful night and I'm a fortunate girl.

A day for the memory file box

I feel spoiled today. I'm staying in a beautiful hotel in Greenville, SC. I spent a few hours this afternoon walking around town, looking in shops, and checking out the Reedy River Falls Park. It seems that everything about today is beautiful. The air smells like fall in an indescribable way. The trees and starting to show red and yellow tips. It's overcast but the temperature is perfect for wearing long sleeves and a scarf.

I slept until 10:30 this morning. I feel bad because I only slept in about a third of the bed. It's a king with a real duvet and thick white sheets. The coffee maker in the room comes with Starbucks coffee. I am now drinking my second cup and eating a delightful molasses clove cookie.

The Falls Park is beautifully landscaped. There are benches and swings throughout to sit and watch the ducks and chipmunks. It is such a peaceful day. I wish I had brought a book or something to write on. Or maybe that I was able to just sit still and be quiet for more than a few minutes.

I stopped in a shop that had interesting and creatively stimulating jewelry and art work. There were earrings and bracelets made of old watch parts and others made of old Starbucks gift cards. It makes me wish I had money to buy everything and simultaneously wish that I would make time to do more creative things.

I signed up for an online writing workshop. My first assignment was due last night. I have yet to receive any feedback about it. The class is Essentials of Writing Personal Essays.

All hell may break loose when I go to the airport and fly to Atlanta, but this has been such a relaxing and enjoyable day I know I'll be able to handle it.

Gray day in Vermont

Today I am in Burlington, VT. It's getting to be that time of year when it stops being such a favorite place. Or maybe I would love it more if I had brought a jacket. It's windy and cold. I walked the mile and a half down to Church Street. The sky and air are gray, but some of the trees are still bright colors. Everyone is hurrying, holding their scarves around their necks. Girls have on boots and hats.

I wasn't sure where I was going. I just had to get out of my room. I'm always drawn to shops with cards, stationery, and blank books for writing. I should probably spend more time writing than looking for books to write in. I can't help it though. I love them. I went to a consignment store where I almost tried on two pairs of jeans until I remembered I already had enough jeans and not enough money. The sales girls were chatting about wallets and belts one of them was pricing. An older man came in asking for an appointment to consign things. A young couple was digging through marked down sale boxes in the back. He liked the vest but she wasn't sure about it.

I went to the end of the street and started my way back. I was surprised by how young the kids on the street were. I always think of Burlington as a college town, but I guess regular people live here too. There were a lot of skateboards, hoodies, and piercings. Girls in short skirts reminded me of cold days in my youth when appearance was more important than comfort. They were cold for different reasons than I was, but it's cold all the same.

I stopped in a chocolate store. They had truffles. Lots and lots of truffles. And hot chocolate. The girls recommended the New World hot chocolate, which was 74% chocolate, as opposed to the Old World one which was only 53%. I got a champagne truffle and an organic Aztec one. The Aztec one had cayenne pepper, cinnamon, and lime. I sat at the bar along the wall, drank my hot chocolate, ate my truffles one crumb at a time, read my book, and listened to people come and go. The little girl told her father quite certainly that she wanted the apricot one. The guy who held the door for me was hoping to get hired. It sounded good for him since he was always available and could work over the holidays.

I waited 30 minutes for the van to pick me up. I was waiting on the corner of Main and Church. The wind was blowing from both directions so I stood inside a little glass alcove and watched for the van. I think people thought I was spying on them. I was just really cold.

A group of three boys walked by. One had a caramel colored afro. One had long, wavy black hair. One hair shoulder length hair with bangs that fell across his forehead. The wavy haired one had dimples and at first I thought he was a girl. Honestly, they could've all passed for girls.

A lady sat at the corner with a sign asking for change. She had clean jeans and a jacket and cleanest edge on the back of her hair. After she left another girl came to the same spot. She went to the trash can, picked up the previous ladies sign, read it, then rooted through for another piece of cardboard. She had clean hair and clothes, a backpack, and according to the guys standing next to me, a cell phone.

A girl walked past me dressed completely in black with a downward hook shaped scar at the corner of her mouth that made me curious.

I ate tuna salad and celery for supper just now. My life is so glamourous. I'm not particularly hungry though. Tomorrow I go to Atlanta and then to White Plains for the night.

Caffeine, pasta, and pelicans

One of the beautiful things about having a barista who is also your brother (or is it a brother who is also a barista?) is waking up to the biggest Starbucks iced espresso you've ever had. My veins are tingling and my feet are twitching. What a way to start the day.

And as I type (still lounging on my bed) he comes back upstairs with two bowls of cereal, peanut butter apples, and orange juice... What a host.

Yesterday I walked 2.5 miles (possibly more since I had to backtrack thanks to a huge fence) to pick up a rental car. Peter and I usually slum it on public transportation, but figured for $13/day we could take a trip off the trolley path. Then I drove to downtown SD to pick him and his friend Francesco from class. I have never driven a car in San Diego. Neither of them have either. It was like the blind leading the blind. Peter gave me a street name which I would then find only to have him tell me he was wrong and did I see a big building - or were they condos - and a store on my right or left. Eventually I found them standing on a street corner (hmmm) and we went to lunch. I had a California burrito (complete with french fries) nearly the size of my head. Peter had to go back to school to work on a project so I went back to his house to sit on the back deck, watch airplanes, listen to the traffic, give myself a pedicure, and enjoy the sunshine.

Later I picked him up again and we drove to Shelter Island. It's really a peninsula with a lot of pelicans on it. Small fishing boats were coming and going and we'd watch as the pelicans spotted the boats they knew dropped stuff for them and they'd swarm around the boat. There was also a sea lion who barked and flipped around and seemed to rule the area. We discussed how humans seem to be the only species where the female is more attractive, which then led to a discussion about male/female roles in relationships (all the while breathing through our mouths to avoid the stench of a place inhabited by birds.)

Then it was off to get groceries. We debated the merits of giving your product the most unappealing name possible (Flax-Plus). Do people feel like they're eating something healthy if it sounds gross? At home we listened to more music and made spaghetti with pesto, Italian sausage, and tomatoes. It was tasty and I ate too much. We were both tired from either getting up early being from a different time zone, or just being so fabulous.

Let's have some fun this beat is sick

I'm sitting in Peter's room. We closed the deck door to shut out the sounds of Rosecrans. We couldn't hear each other talk - or all the rocking tunes Peter's gotten since we last hung out. Whenever I feel like I'm out of touch with pop culture I talk to Peter.

It took a really long time to get here today. I made it to the airport early. That in itself is a day's worth of accomplishment for me. I was there at 1:53pm. Our flight took off at about 8pm.

I waited for the plane to get to Atlanta. I waited to get a seat on it. I waited at the end of the runway while the plane got hot. I waited back at the gate while the mechanic came on to fix the problem. I waited again at the end of the runway while the plane got hot again. I had a suspicion we were in trouble when we went past the take-off line for the second time. I waited back inside the airport for an hour and a half for another plane. I waited for the new pilots to get all their stuff in order. I waited for ramp congestion. I felt like I was at work. But then I had some wine and remembered I wasn't. Everyone was in good spirits and I had good traveling company. I didn't even get a chance to finish my crossword.

Now I'm on Madrid Street without the jacket or slippers I left in Atlanta this morning. San Diego looks and feels good from here. I'm looking forward to a few days of amusement Peter style.

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone

This is the last night of just Trish and me hanging out at our apartment. We're both pretending it isn't though. It's sad. I have to work tomorrow night, leave for San Diego on Wednesday, and when I come home my new roommate will have moved in. Now "All By Myself" is playing (following "Ain't No Sunshine.") It's like they have a sad and lonely option for the random button. It's kind of fitting for a roommate leaving night.

This morning I was off work before the sun came up. I flew in from Chattanooga and our flight landed at 6:43 am. One of the unexpected bonuses of being a flight attendant is that I experience moods and times of living I would never see otherwise. I come to work and go home at all times of day and night. Sometimes I go with traffic. Sometimes I'm against it. Sometimes the roads are empty. Some people say good morning. Others say good night. I've probably seen more sunrises since becoming a flight attendant than the rest of my life combined. I like it.

After work I went to the foot doctor and found out that the pain in my foot is, in fact, the pin in my foot wiggling out of the bone. He said 99% of the time this does not happen. With that kind of luck maybe I should play the lottery tonight. I'll probably have the surgery in November. He said it should be minor. Seems like the only recovery will be the cut from where he has to take it out. Just what I wanted to do with my time. I'm wondering if his surgeries are by one get one free.

This afternoon I ran on Peachtree Street. I love running there because it's busy enough to distract me from the pain of running. The weather was perfect for running. It was just cold enough to subtract heat from the list of things deterring me from running, but not so cold that my throat hurt when I breathe. I even ran farther than I originally planned. It felt good.

Sunny Sunday

It is officially fall. I've worn a scarf and jeans several times this week, and even turned the heat on yesterday. It's been raining a lot. The other night I thought it was almost Christmas. It's strange that I associate driving home from work on empty roads in the cold rain with Christmas. Thankfully it isn't Christmas yet. Today, as I had to go back to work the rain left and it's a beautiful, clear, cold day.

I realized this week that I had completely lost steam on a lot of the things I was dedicated to doing as recently as a few weeks ago. I don't understand why humans are this way. We are so gung-ho one day and then forget the next.

I just started reading "Writing Down the Bones - Freeing the Writer Within." So far it's a good book. That and the sermon I heard this morning are helping me realize that one of my reasons for not doing things I should do, or want to do, is because I want the finished product and don't want to start if I think it won't come out right. If I can't get the first sentence right or develop a complete idea I don't even start writing. If I'm too tired to run as far as I'd like I don't go at all. Identifying a problem is a good start, right?

I cooked pasta today. I had high hopes and a good idea but ended up in too much of a hurry to make it happen. I used the last good leaves off my basil plants (they're dying for some reason), onions, garlic, turkey sausage, and diced tomatoes. I always have a hard time with the balance between pasta and whatever I'm mixing with it. This time it was too much pasta and too little other stuff. I'm also having a hard time finding whole wheat pasta that doesn't feel grainy. Oh well. For dessert I have a piece of the birthday cake Trish made for me since she won't be here in 3 months for the real day.

I normally hate working on Sundays. I miss too much family and rest time. The trip I picked up today was too good to pass up though. I do one 47 min flight and get paid for 7.5 hours of flying. Way to work the system. Scheduling has been infuriating me lately and made me miss some nice family time, but I'm trying to get over it since I've been angry for hours now.

Now I'm going to relax and enjoy a quiet evening in my hotel room in Chattanooga.

Currently reading: Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg

little fishies

Today I'm in Sioux Falls, SD again. I need to go for a run, and am trying to plot my course. In the meantime I'm listening to the coffee maker sputter and putting lotion on my sunburned face.

This time yesterday I spent two hours on one of the most beautiful beaches I have been to. I brought a book - "The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency" - but had to stop reading frequently. I felt like it was wrong of me to be in such a beautiful place and send my mind somewhere else.

I've been to many beaches, and I've been to that particular beach many times, but yesterday was perfect. There weren't very many people, so for the most part, I heard nothing but the waves and the birds. The sand was clean, soft, and white. The water was so clear I could see the little holes the sea creatures dig on the bottom and schools of fish scurrying around. The fish were the same color as the water when it makes a ripple of a wave and goes from clear to shiny, pale turquoise. The sun was out - but not too bright - and there was a breeze just cool enough to make you appreciate the sun's presence. The gulf was smooth and the waves on top were replicated by the waves in the sand underneath. I think they were there just for texture.

A family eventually came out and set up camp to the right of me. There were two pre-adolescent girls with braids to their waists and swim shirts and shorts on. Everyone in the group had on shorts with shirts or one-pieces. I felt that I was watching myself 20 years ago. The littlest girl would come out of the water every ten minutes or so and run up one end of the beach and down the other to chase all the birds away. I wonder why children like to chase birds away. Maybe, for once, they feel powerful.

I grew up in an environment where a lot of emphasis was placed on appearance (clothing and hair especially). My family and I have long since realized that these things are not what's important, but it is always interesting for me to see people who still believe this. I have no criticism for these people, but watching them I sometimes feel like the fish that escaped the fishbowl and now has the whole sea to swim in. I know what it's like on the inside. I know what they think when they see me in my bikini. I know that I am much happier this way.

I felt so fortunate to be spending a few hours surrounded by such beauty and tried to soak in as much as possible. In visiting between Ft. Walton Beach, the detectives in Botswana, and the fishbowl I forgot how much delightful sun I was soaking in and now have an uneven, raccoon-eye-causing sunburn. It was worth it.

Gonna take a lot to drag me away from you

I don't know why I like Sioux Falls so much. It helps that it's summer and therefore warm. I like midwesterners. They're tough and friendly. They don't complain about stupid things. They don't expect the world of you.

We got here last night. I read about half of "Brave New World" and was asleep by 11:30. I ran 3 miles yesterday and I can tell that it's helping me sleep better. I feel so much better when I exercise and sleep.

Today I got up and walked a mile to a coffee shop called Black Sheep Roasting Company. I read about it on yelp.com. I paid $1 (no tax) for my first cup, which was a Tanzania Pearberry, and 50 cents for the refill - some kind of sumatra. I nearly finished my book, but by the time I got close I was too jittery from coffee and couldn't concentrate.

On the way over I passed a strip of stores. Each one's name was in a different language or represented a different region of the world - Tienda del bien Samaratino (my loose remembrance), Sengalese something, one in characters I didn't recognize. While I was in the coffee shop I was amazed by the numbers of African men coming and going. Some had intentional scars on their faces. They spoke in different languages and greeted each other with handshakes and cheek kisses. It always amazes to come to a place as obscure and cold as South Dakota and find a huge African population. I've seen the same thing in Portland, ME. It makes me wonder how they got here - and why here?

I walked the mile back to the hotel then tried to go for a run. It was pretty lame. It's surprisingly hot and I was surprisingly unmotivated. As much as I don't like treadmills, I think it's good for me to see the distance ticking by. Then I can shame myself into not stopping when I see that I've only been running for .75 miles.

The rest of my day has been blissfully restful. I finished the book and bought two more from a used book store. I just finished my supper of leftover spaghetti. I've developed this habit lately of adding random ingredients to basic dishes. That's how I have onions, spinach, and tomato chunks in my spaghetti. I also bought a Putamayo Kids African Dreamland cd. I'm looking forward to being lulled to sleep by it tonight.

Sunday morning minutes

Days like today make me wish I was a morning person. I got up in time to eat breakfast, get online, floss my teeth, and be on time to the early service at Buckhead Church. There's a lot less church traffic that time of day (even though I still feel like a little mouse in the big maze of that church and its garages and walkways). Now I'm at home, drinking coffee, paying the last of my bills for the month (the stupid kind that involves writing a check and mailing it), and waiting for J to get released so I can pick him up and drive to the homestead. This is usually the time I'm rolling into church (late) and I've already done so much today.

I heard the last message in the series "Losing Your Religion". I feel like it's pretty appropriate for where I am in my life. It presents Christianity in a way that separates it from religion. It seems most people I know (myself included) have already had religion and realized it doesn't free you from the law and your guilt, or they have chosen to reject religion because it doesn't get you anywhere. Without going through the whole series, it explains why we don't need religion - we need a Savior. It's a very interesting and powerful series.

The last few days have been restful and productive. I was able to cross a lot of things off my to do lists. I'm realizing that the longer things stay on my list the more of a burden they become. A small chore left on there for a month becomes a Goliath to me simply by its perpetual presence. I mended a lot of clothes that I've had piled in my closet while watching "The Sound of Music" last night. It's amazing the sense of accomplishment I get by running a needle and thread through some fabric and knowing I've fixed something.

I've also been having a mini pre-midlife midlife crisis. It's been good for me to assess where I am and where I want to be. Right now I want to be at my parents' house with my local family and hopefully J.

I'm thankful that God's love for me is unfair.

Stories don't mean anything if you've got no one to tell them to

I've been reading a lot lately. I'm currently reading a book called "Don't Let's Go to the Dogs Tonight - An African Childhood." It's about a white girl who grew up in Rhodesia/ Zimbabwe. It's the third or fourth book I've read lately that is a memoir about someone's childhood. I really enjoy these kinds of books because they are real. I'm becoming more and more convinced that real life is far more interesting than fiction.

The first book I read (and am still reading) was "Reading Lolita in Tehran." It's written by an Iranian female who was a professor and eventually quit teaching but started a class that met every week in her home for several years to discuss literature. I haven't finished it because it's has a bit too much history and I got bogged down in all the politics. When she was young she grew up in a liberal family where men and women were equal. She lived and taught through the Revolution that has since shoved women back under their veils and into anonymity. It's fascinating to read these women's stories and see the lives they fairly currently lead. It makes me feel fortunate to live in a land where I am respected as a woman.

The next book I read was called "Stolen Innocence." It was by a girl who grew up in the Fundamental Latter Day Saints in Utah and was married to her first cousin, against her will, when she was 14. It tells of her life - one that also started out fairly pleasantly. Her father loved her mother. They went to movies, listened to music, played instruments. Then they came under the rule of the Rulon and Warren Jeffs who eventually became dictators over their souls. Their families were torn apart according to "the prophet's" whim. She grew up in a culture where plural marriages were applauded. She had about 30 combined siblings. Whenever someone questioned the teachings they were banished and treated as dead. She was taught that when her mother was taken from her father and placed with another man, God changed the children's DNA so they were actually his children now... It blows my mind what people can be led to believe, but I can somewhat identify. It's a sad story of her lost childhood, lost siblings, and as the title states - her stolen innocence as she was raped by her husband in the name of the prophet. It makes me feel fortunate to be free of controlling religious teachings.

The next book I read was "The Glass Castle." This was a story of a girl who grew up with an alcoholic father and a mother who didn't want to be a mother. They lived in poverty and filth much of their lives but were taught to view it as an adventure. Their parents' taught them to read when they were three so despite moving from city to city in the middle of the night and living in rotting houses with no electricity they were well educated. As a child she always believed in her idealistic father. She and her siblings learned to fend for themselves and stick together. It made me feel fortunate that I never fought my sister over a stick of margarine for a meal.

The book I'm reading right now has the perfect combination of history and memoir. I love Africa and am partial to stories about Africa. She describes the enchantment of Africa - the smells and sounds. She uses words and phrases that I have only ever heard in South Africa. She grew up learning to take a gun apart, put it back together, load it, and shoot it. She tells of war from a child's point of view. She describes the dry, barren ranches they lived on in such a way that your lips start to get chapped reading about it. She learned to be tough and help round up cattle as a child. She saw death and as I read now is watching her mother have a nervous breakdown after the loss of another baby. It's a beautiful and sad book. It makes me feel fortunate that I have never lived in a war.

The moral of my story tonight is that I need to read some more cheerful books. These stories are starting to possess my dreams. I cried several times while reading them (in public). I don't know how people suffer so much loss and still come out alright. It gives a new perspective to having a hard childhood, being mistreated, being poor, working hard, and overcoming a lot.

This is the first time on this trip that I've been in the hotel, much less in bed, before midnight. I prefer this over the 3:45 wake up calls, but it still wears on you. I can't wait to get home tomorrow night.

happy nose

Today I went with Christine and Scott to their plot in the community garden to get some food for supper. They have a beautiful and tasty looking garden. I was bending down trying to reach some hidden tomatoes and got a whiff of one of the most delightful smell combinations that my nose has encountered - basil and tomato plants. I've always known I like the smell of tomato plants. It takes me back to my youth when we had gardens and I could eat cherry tomatoes that were still warm from the sun. Not only do I love the smell for the smell's sake, I love it for memory's sake. Basil is becoming a new favorite herb. I have successfully grown it in my window this summer and am learning to add it to everything. I love how it smells and tastes. We came home and Christine made pesto and I mostly made (under her instruction) a marinara type tomato sauce.

I've been in CA since Tuesday. J and I came out to celebrate his mother's birthday and visit our families. His family was supposed to spend the weekend on a houseboat but the boat wouldn't go into reverse so we went to Lake Tahoe instead. I'm always a fan of seeing more of the country, and Lake Tahoe is no disappointment. The water was too cold for me but the mountains and lake are stunning.

I'm learning how to forget about work. I feel like I've forgotten about the rest of life in the process, but now that I have better cell phone coverage I'll work on getting back in the loop. June and July were long hard months work-wise. I'm glad they're over. I need to remember not to do that to myself again.

For now I'm going to enjoy sleeping when I please, waking when I please, and drinking coffee with my loved ones every morning.

and I think to myself - what a wonderful world

Today is a beautiful day. I picked up this trip because it was time and a half (even though it means I work six days this week). I did one flight to Sarasota, FL this morning, and have spent the rest of the day relaxing by the pool. It's crazy hot but the water was perfect and I brought sunscreen. This hotel is such a nice place and it's nice to have some forced relaxation.

We're in the middle of summer flying and I have never seen so many children on the planes. Last week I had an especially challenging day where we did five flights and every single flight I had some kind of unpleasantness. The first two were just general complainers (sitting at my elbow). The next one was a three year old (again at my elbow) who refused to do anything his granny asked him to do, screamed, and threatened to break her arm. The next flight the boy (maybe eleven years old) in the seat in front of me to the right had some kind of developmental problem. He was placid enough to begin with, but halfway through the flight became extremely loud. He was wailing, screaming, yelling threats to kill his mother (?), to have her put in jail, calling her rude names, hitting her, and pulling her hair. It was painful for everyone around them. I felt so helpless and sad for this lady. On my last flight I had five lap children (among many other children). They were evenly spaced throughout the cabin and cried in such a way that wherever you stood during the entire flight to Wichita you could hear a child crying. Who knew children were so organized?

There were a few people that redeemed the day though. There were three little boys who were sitting right next to me (behind the loud boy). They were all under seven and we had the most interesting conversation. The oldest one had a few paper airplanes with him. These weren't your usual fold in half, fold two triangles, then two more triangles kinds of planes. Some had wings near the front. Some had landing gear that retracted. He told me he had learned how to make them by following patterns he found online. The internet never ceases to amaze me. This led to a conversation about airplanes. The two boys asked very intelligent questions about all the parts of the plane. The oldest one wants to be a pilot when he grows up.

The next man that really made me happy was on our flight from Knoxville to Atlanta. He was sitting at a window near the front of the plane - an older middle age black man dressed in a sharp suit. When we were in cruise he asked how high and how fast we were going. This is a fairly common question. I told him I thought we were at about 26,000 ft. and we could be going around 500 mph (I was wrong on both by the way). He was shocked and said it didn't seem possible because it felt like we were barely moving. He said it was his first flight and he was overwhelmed with emotion. I didn't want him to think I was laughing at him, but I was so pleased to hear him respond this way. It is rare to ever meet someone anymore who recognizes and admits what an amazing and awesome thing it is to fly 20 or 30,000 feet above the ground. Most people do it so often, or have grown up where it is commonplace, so it isn't awe-inspiring anymore. He asked a few other questions that did make me wonder how he was so out of touch with the experience of flying, but I guess if you don't live near an airport and you've never flown anywhere it is possible. The last thing he asked me that really amused me was when we started flying over a low blanket of clouds. He wondered how the pilots knew where we were going since they couldn't see the ground anymore.

Looking back on last week makes today that much more beautiful. I spent most of the day sitting in the water reading a magazine, eating a perfect mango (88 cents at Walmart), and talking to my amusing colleague.

I thank God for days like today.

Currently reading: Reading Lolita in Tehran by Azar Nafisi

mind or body?

Tomorrow morning I have to get up at 5am ET. This morning I got up at 4am CT. I'm trying to figure out which is more powerful - the body clock or the mind. My mind is relieved that I get to sleep until 5am. My body is like listen stupid, we got up at 5am ET this morning and it sucked. Sometimes I think my body is just along for the ride and my mind is the one calling the shots. My mind says yo, you got up at 4am - you should be exhausted. And I am. I'm still going to make myself go to sleep around 8:30pm (same as last night 7:30 CT). We'll see what happens in the morning.

I spent the day wandering around Portland, ME. I love this town. I love it because it's quaint and has old buildings. I love it because it's near the water and the air smells like salt. I love it cause there are crazy people on every street corner. I love it cause everyone here talks funny and is Red Sox fans. I did not love that I walked around for 3 hours by myself. I did not love that I felt awkward eating anywhere so I ate at the hotel. The weather was really beautiful though - evidently for the first time in a month. I miss having Amy and Shane up here. It's not the same without them.

I have worked every day except two for the last 18 days. I should be home around 3 tomorrow and I'm looking forward to it. I'm learning a lot about being happy under crazy circumstances. I'm learning the value of an afternoon spent with friends instead of just resting. Rest is important but feeling like a real person is more important. I'm looking forward to seeing my family this weekend too. It's been too long.

I read The Shack this week. If you know me, you know this isn't my style. I am not into trendy religious books. I haven't read The Prayer of Jabez, The Passion of Christ, or A Purpose Driven Life. Call me a bad Christian, but they aren't my style. Someone gave me The Shack though and after I started seeing it read on every one of my flights for a few days straight I decided to read it. I'm not crazy about the writing style, but it made an impression on me. I'd like to know what other people think who have read it.

My 8:30pm bedtime is closing in so I must sleep.

the news from Newport News

I'm in Newport News, VA. We got here about 1:45 this morning after a ridiculous weather day in Atlanta. I was in Louisville the night before and got to hang out with Jamie, Jon, and Jon's roommate Tommy. It was great and made me forget I was at work. The only problem with having a fun overnight at the beginning of the trip is that it makes the rest of the trip seem soooo long.

I'm back to doing 4 days this month. After allowing myself to slack off the first two months back after surgery I decided I had to work hard this month. That means doing 4 days every week. So far they have been pretty good, but I had forgotten how long they can seem. I woke up today feeling like I should be headed home, but instead I'll go to Atlanta and then go on to San Antonio for a short night. Tomorrow I'll go home.

I can't seem to remember how to write any more. I don't know what happened but whenever I think about writing a blog or something I draw a blank. It's not that I don't have anything going on. My life has actually been quite busy. I guess I'm just afraid of writing mundane, pointless things.

On Sunday I flew up to Asheville to see my grandparents and help my Daddy continue to clean out their old house. It made me sad to see the empty house and know they don't live there anymore. I got to bring home the rest of my Grandma's African violets which was really nice. I'll always remember seeing them sitting in the window above her sink.

After bringing the violets home my apartment is starting to look like a jungle. I feel like plants are to me what pets are to other people - minus the slobbering, pooping, shedding, and vet bills. It makes me happy to come home from a trip and see how they've grown. I planted some seeds and have now transplanted them into a big pot. Hopefully before too long I'll have enough basil to cook with. I also ran across a 4 for $5 plant sale at Publix and got some nice plants to add variety to the ones I already had.

I'm reading a book right now called "The Year of Living Biblically". It's an interesting and amusing book written by an agnostic man who is a writer for Esquire. It has really inspired me to read the Bible. I haven't finished the book to see the final effect living Biblically has had on his life and thinking, but it's great to see how he has become a more caring and compassionate person. He is realizing that while the God of the Bible is a god of justice, He is also a god of compassion.

The day the ostrich died

Today, after 5 long days of work, I saw the bus coming across the ramp to take me home and discovered something amazing - I can run! I'm not sure if I'm ready to put aside the whole foot surgery excuse for being lazy, but it can't be denied. I ran, in all my navy blue polyester Naturalizer granny shoed glory across the ramp - pulling about 90 pounds worth of bags no less.

I don't know if it was the fact that I flew five days in a row, or that my pilots were annoying me, or that I got up at 3:45 this morning, but I was so glad to be off work. I did get to have a cup of coffee with my favorite pilot today which made things a little better, but it's been a long week.

One thing that has been nice about my week has been my passengers. I didn't come across anyone who was terribly rude. There were actually quite a few friendlies. Yesterday on the way to Wichita a group of men came and sat in the back near me. Their accents were as redneck as I have ever heard. They said they were from Douglasville and we were trying to figure out how we grew up within 30 miles of each other but could barely understand each other. The one who chose to sit right next to me was 47 and had me laughing from the time I sat down. At first I was laughing at the number of double negatives and don't never got none of them's he was throwing into every sentence. I wish I had had a tape recorder. He was fidgety and hyper like a 14 year old boy. He kept asking for drinks cause he said they mellowed him out. I wasn't sure if that was a good idea, but if it would make him calm down I would consider it.

Somehow in the midst of all the words coming out of his mouth I caught that he had killed an ostrich. This is a story I need to hear. He started by telling me that he was in a Mexican restaurant with some friends and they were "all cut up." His girlfriend was mad - no it was his wife - no his girlfriend. He decided to drive home (I later found out the girlfriend was supposed to drive, but since she got mad she started drinking and rode with someone else). On the drive home he went off the road and hit a big green pole. But before he hit the pole he ran through someone's fence and knocked it down. When he woke up in the hospital one of his employees (yes, this man is responsible for other people) was standing there looking at him, twirling the ends of his mustache (complete with hand motions) with his wife and his girlfriend both standing behind him. He thought that he had died and gone to hell.

After three months of recovery he felt really bad about the fence and went back to the place where he wrecked. He told the guy he wanted to pay for his fence. The guy said "It's not my fence I'm so upset about. When you drove off the road the tire came off your truck and hit my prize ostrich that was sleeping next to the fence and killed it. That's what I'm upset about." I guess just to make sure, the ostrich killer guy called the tow company and confirmed that there were in fact feathers on the tire when they collected his truck. So he had to buy that man a new $700 ostrich AND pay to fix the fence.

The man sitting on the other side of me and I both wondered to each other "who needs fiction when you have real life?"

I also found out that the ostrich killer has two girlfriends now (no more wife). Conveniently they're both named Jennifer. One is Mean Jennifer. The other is Nice Jennifer. Nice Jennifer knows about Mean Jennifer, but Mean Jennifer doesn't know about Nice Jennifer. And if she ever finds out everybody better watch out. I wondered just how mean Mean Jennifer could be. "She's just mean - like try to run over you with a truck mean." He said Mean Jennifer is getting kind of old, she's almost 29, so he might have to trade her in. At this point I figured he must have a lot of money to be able to trade women in at this rate. He said it does help. He also has lots of toys - trucks, cars, boats, jetskis.

That made my day. I did confirm that he was no longer drinking and driving and that he was sorry for his mistakes.

And really, who needs fiction when real life is this interesting?

open mouth, insert snuggie.

For the second time in my life I just thought "a snuggie would be good right now." I'm not sure how that makes me feel. I don't want one, but they definitely are on to something. Don't you hate it when you're typing in a cold room and the blanket keeps falling off your arms?

I survived my dayline Monday (thanks to a airport scavenger hunt Trish made for me), but the weather made flying miserable. Now I'm in Albany, NY on day two of a four day. It's been a good trip so far. I'd already flown with the flight attendant and first officer which helps. Last night we were in Canton, OH and ended up meeting an odd man who parted his hair in the middle, wore a black suit with a white cowboy style dress shirt (black piping on the seams), and the typical flag/eagle tie and runs threading shops and a lady who is a masseuse and bought an adult daycare franchise in Lawrenceville. Our captain is the kind of guy that gives pilots a bad reputation. (Whatever comes into your mind is probably true.) He is nice enough, though, and gave everyone dollars and made us all take turns picking songs on the jukebox.

Two of the three guys I'm working with don't seem to have their filters installed correctly. When we are in public I am constantly frightened by what is going to come out of their mouths next. Yesterday one was loudly hoping for the demise of one of our sister connection carriers to another person on the train with us because he "hates them so much". Today we had a really awkward ride to the airport. An elderly gentleman was in the van with us and asked what a word meant. It is a word that has been used lately in reference to taxes, but has an alternate sexual definition that a lot of people are unaware of. Instead of just saying that is was something sexual, he (being the helpful man he is) described what he thought it was in detail. At least he used the proper anatomical words.

Welcome to my life.

Within the last two weeks I've had two of the most glorious nights of sleep that I can ever remember. Both times I took allergy medicine and drank herb tea. I'm very curious whether it was one of them or the combination. I'm on my third cup of tea in the last few hours and drug free so maybe I'll find out in the morning.

sleepy time tea thoughts

Easter is almost over and I have nearly accepted that I can not get out of working tomorrow. I really should work since I haven't very much in the last 3 months. Part of my lack of enthusiasm stems from the fact that my alarm is set for 4:40am. Then on Tuesday I start a four-day trip. Welcome back to work.

I really shouldn't complain since I just spent six beautiful days in Napa Valley. We went out for the memorial service, but were able to see a lot of J's friends and family and Christine and Scott. It was a really great visit and the weather was amazing. The memorial service was the saddest thing I have ever been a part of, but it was also inspiring to hear how highly they were spoken of and how they had enriched everyone's lives around them. One thing that people said over and over was how they lived life to the fullest - and they included their loved ones in all of it.

I'm still processing everything that has been going on lately, but I hope that once the trauma of everything passes I don't forget the things I have seen and learned lately.

I hope that when I die, whether I'm young or old, I won't look back and wish I'd spent less time on facebook or hadn't neglected the important relationships in my life. There are times that I find myself skipping forward to the next day before the current one is over, flights I just want to end, mornings, afternoons, and evenings gone with nothing to show for them - and I don't want my life to be that way. I want to have something to show for it. More importantly, I want those around me to have benefited from it.

I've been spending a lot of time lately practicing music with the girls. We're playing at a reception on Saturday and have to have at least two hours of music prepared. I think enough time has passed since the tortures of college that I am beginning to enjoy playing again. I hope this time we really do take our quartet seriously and practice regularly.

Yesterday we were practicing and something sounded particularly good. As I listened to us play it struck me how many different, amazing factors went into the beautiful sound. To start with, some (probably crazy) old man wrote the music hundreds of years ago. The four of us are the daughters of two brothers and of two college buddies. We started playing together when we were nine and ten. We went to a somewhat crazy school but it kept us together and playing through high school. Our parents sacrificed to buy us instruments and pay for lessons. Then we played in college together. Now we're all in our late twenties, still friends, still playing together. Some parents teach their children another language when they're young so they can experience the world through language. We were taught to read music, and can now enjoy the world that way.

This has been enough deep thoughts from Grace for the time being. I'm worn out from a great day and must sleep now so I can be the best flight attendant possible tomorrow.

pennies and thoughts

I made it through my first day back to work. No harm. No foul. I realized that as long as I don't think about what I'm supposed to say, it'll come to me.

I found four pennies on the plane. I think that nearly doubled what I earned today.

I'm going to learn how to sleep well. I think I just need to be more disciplined and it will come.

I don't mind the rain as long as it isn't really cold. I did feel like I was sliding off the interstate this morning on the way to work though. I think we might be getting caught up on our drought.

I had lamb lollipops at Two Urban Licks the other night. They were really good. I'm thankful to Molly for introducing me to the half glass of wine. Such a great way to really enjoy wine. Too much makes it no fun.

I took the GRE on Thursday and survived. I didn't feel like the math preparation I did covered the questions on the test, but somehow did 110 points higher in math than verbal. I have never seen so many words I have never heard of before. Oh well.

I saw Michal dance in Guys and Dolls on Thursday. I went with my guy. The play was cute and fun, and Michal did a great job. She is so beautiful.

When I cook food, especially food that requires creativity, and J loves it it makes me feel proud of myself and very happy. The other day we made "salad" with frozen roasted corn, chopped up tomatoes, and black beans cause that's all there was. Then a few days later I added the rest of it to leftover jasmine rice and leftover TJ's rattatouille sauce and it was delightful. Trish nearly vomited at the thought of all those leftovers :-).

I love Hiltons. It's nice being in a cozy clean room with a per-cup coffee/tea maker. The beds are great as well. I'll be back home by noon tomorrow.

Currently reading:
A Year in the World: Journeys of A Passionate Traveller
By Frances Mayes

quiet

Except for the traffic on I-85 and my fingers on the keys, all is silent here at home. The last couple of days have been quiet days. Days where the things going on inside haven't been developed to the point of words. Or where there just aren't words.

I'm going back to work soon. I don't really know how I feel about it. I'm not really looking forward to it, but the closer it gets the more I realize that it's time. When I planned to have 8 weeks off of work I knew that if I came away from it with nothing to show except scars on my foot I would be disappointed in myself. I think I have accomplished a lot. I didn't do everything I wanted to do, but I did some things I hadn't planned on doing. But thinking about what I've been doing has made me realize I want to be doing much more.

On Sunday there were two plane crashes. These always make me stop and be still for a while. I can't help but think about the families back home who are getting the call that their pilot husband, mother, brother, friend won't be coming home. I paid attention to the Fedex crash because there was a crazy video of it. It was sad and awesome (in a terrible way). The other plane crash didn't catch my attention as much until Jonathan called to tell me that they were friends of his.

Since then it has been a sad few days. And as is usually the case when there is death, I have been thinking a lot about life. I don't have any grand revelations to share. No epiphanies. I'm still in the quiet stage. I do feel incredibly loved and blessed - but thankfully that isn't a new feeling.

God has given me so much. He gave me a second chance to live. I pray that I will learn how to live my life to the utmost and not waste a single day.

new things

Last night we celebrated Iina's birthday. She's a girl I met through my new roommate Trish. Her fiancee, Corey, and Trish planned it so she'd think she was coming over for our housewarming party and we'd surprise her.

The night started off well. Trish made a chocolate chocolate cake in a bundt pan. It looked and smelled beautiful. We put the candles in while we were waiting for Iina to get here but when we looked at the cake a while later they were all crooked. Trish pulled one out to straighten it up and someone commented that she had put them in upside down. She had, in fact, put them in right side up, but the end of the candle had melted into the cake leaving a bare wick.

Fortunately no one died from wax consumption and we proceeded on to Happy Karaoke. We were all very skeptical - not being big karaokers - but when it's your birthday everyone does what you want, so we went along. It was up off of Buford highway where there are more Asian signs than English ones. It ended up being a private karaoke place. There were about 10 of us in a private room where we could sing whatever we wanted (as long as you could find it in the huge book of Korean songs). Some of the vital ones were lacking (Baby Got Back) but we got by with songs like Africa, It's Raining Men, Womanizer, Livin La Vida Loca, Whatever You Like, and Can't Touch This.

The words were up on several of the nine screens that were in a square in the front of the room. They had the most obscure videos going in the background. Some of them would be European cities, then they would be penguins, people on the beach, baboons, elephants swimming (underwater view), or fields and fields of flowers. Every once in a while there was one that actually seemed to have something to do with music but it was pretty rare. To top things off, our room had one of those spinning balls with colored lights (not a disco ball, but close).

We had a really good time and nearly everyone sang at one time or another. I have never missed my other vocal chord so much since I don't have much of a range without it, but microphones do wonders for a lack of volume. Being loud is kind of addictive.

I thought of Israel a lot while we did this because I think it's similar to what they do a lot in China. The way the place looked and the fact that we were the only non- Asian people there made it feel like we were actually in a different country.

After all the lame ones went home a few of us headed over to Iina and Corey's house to play Rockband. I have never played Rockband. I've only played wii once before and I nearly dislocated my shoulder playing imaginary tennis. But since I'd already done one new thing tonight I figured I might as well keep going.

Since I'm used to stringed instruments I decided to start with the guitar. I thought I was doing well until it said I failed. I didn't know you had to "strum" the lever on the side of the guitar while you're hitting the notes. So dumb. Trish and I took turns on the guitar and drums and the drums ended up being the only one I didn't fail every time on.

While we were playing and Iina was singing Corey was making us delicious, custom tortilla pizzas (to spare us all the extra calories). They are quite the hosts. I nearly won all of Trish's money but sticking my finger in the snapping turtles' aquarium, but after watching them snap at the glass decided her wallet wasn't big enough to pay for the loss of my finger.

Around 5am we decided we'd had enough fun and came home. I'm pretty sure I was still hitting the bass drum in my sleep. I'm thinking of getting a microphone that I can just carry with me all the time to make sure people can hear me :-). Happy birthday to Iina!

Sleep

I think about sleep a lot. We don't always have a good relationship. I'm not sure why. I wish we did, but sometimes I find that it's my fault we don't.

I'm babysitting two little girls ages three and five. I've long since given up on the phrase "sleeping like a baby" because I'd rather sleep for more than three hours at a time. Tonight I saw the three year old fall asleep at 6:45pm while watching cartoons. I carried her upstairs, put her in bed, and then got her up later to go to the bathroom, and she slept through it all. I started thinking they should change the phrase to "sleeping like a child".

Then she started waking up and crying randomly. This reminded me of the madness that was sometimes a part of my sleep as a child. I used to have crazy dreams, walk around the house, and talk. I also remember having trouble falling asleep when I was little sometimes.

This makes me wonder how our sleep patterns develop. Are they tied into our personalities or based on our circumstances and environment? I've been thinking about the people I know and the way they sleep but can't seem to find any consistent connections between personalities and patterns (I'm mostly referring to how easily people fall asleep since that's the problem I have).

I feel that discipline plays a big part in falling asleep. If I was more consistent about when I went to bed and got up that would help. Not eating and drinking before bedtime would also help. Not distracting myself with communication or the internet would help. But I don't think any of these things are the cause of my problems.

I have a personality where I like human interraction. I found it to be really difficult when I lived in Spain and would lie in bed at night, unable to sleep, and have no way of communicating with anyone. I didn't have a phone or computer. Not even morse code. I read a lot of books in those days. I think somewhere in my mind I make myself stay up because I don't want to miss something.

My mind and body can't ever seem to come to an agreement at bedtime. My body is so tired, but for some reason my mind decides we're staying up forever. If there isn't anyone to talk to then I'm going to think about everything possible. I'm going to worry about the shoes I spent $54 on and don't fit right and why did I have to throw away the box and return paper and what will I wear and maybe I can sell them on ebay but I won't get much for them and I need the money because I haven't worked and will my foot ever feel normal and when will my doctor clear me and will I be able to get things done before then and will I have to fly the 900 when I go back and will I be absolutely miserable and will I be able to get the time off in May for all the weddings and wasn't there something else I had to plan for and where will we stay for all these events and will I ever have a normal life and why am I still awake?

Get it?

Back to my original thoughts - I wonder if we have a sleep personality that is as hard to change as our real one. I wonder why my old roommate could lie down, fall asleep immediately, never move all night, and as far as she knows has never had a dream. How did she get on sleep's good side? I'm sure someone has already done the research and knows the answers. Maybe one of these nights when I can't sleep I'll learn about it.

For now, I'm going to see if sleep and I are friends tonight. I have to get two kids ready for school in the morning and I'm a little out of practice.

What a slacker

I've been a very bad blogger lately. I think because I'm not working I don't have as much time on my own just to write and I don't have as many stories to tell. I'm also studying for the GRE so that's been taking up a lot of my sit at the computer time.

Last week I added a new state to my list of states visited, and I couldn't have picked a more exciting one. J's grandmother passed away the week before and he asked me to go to the funeral with him.

We flew into Sioux Falls, SD on Friday morning and it was 0 degrees. The warmest it got all weekend was about 11. I don't understand why people live in places like that. Everything was covered in snow, but it wasn't as deep as I would've expected. I think because it's so flat the wind blows a lot of the snow away. Not sure. We drove out to see the family's old homestead. Nearly everything, even the grass, was covered in ice making it quite a beautiful scene. In some places the golden gross is frozen in a blowing position. I wanted to take pictures, but it was too cold to be outside any longer than necessary.

It was great to meet more of his family. His grandmother was 92 when she passed away and, from the stories that were told, quite an amazing woman. She was still mowing her lawn (and sometimes her neighbor's) last summer.

After spending our weekend in ice and snow we got a ride to the Omaha airport to fly home. We got there about 11:30 for a 1:15 flight. We ended up parking at the gate in Atlanta at 1:45 the next morning thanks to the blizzard that hit Atlanta on Sunday. It was a great day of surfing the internet and eating Kracky's ridiculously overpriced fast food.

Since then I have signed my name to an apartment in Midtown. I'm excited that after being an Atlanta resident for most of 28 years I will finally have an Atlanta address. I'm also excited because I'll have a real closet, and my own bathroom. I will miss the roommates, but I'm pretty sure my new roommate will be awesome. We go this afternoon to get the keys and then I get to start the lovely task of moving.

I'm going to study some more before I go do lots of boring adult errands.

from the hills of TN

I'm in Dayton with Joy experiencing for a brief moment what life in a college dorm is like. I'm in a cave underneath three lofted beds. A blanket with a Don Quixote print lines the ceiling of the cave. The walls are papered with newspaper. There are more photos in this room than I've seen in a long time. The colors and pictures seem like they should cause sensory overload, but somehow they don't. It gives a very pleasant, homey feel. I can't imagine sharing a room with two girls. I can't imagine sharing a bathroom with 50 or 60 girls. In some ways I feel like I missed out on a lot not living in a dorm when I was in college. In some ways I'm glad I didn't. The situation here is appealing in that Joy and her roommates are very good friends. They share things and help each other. This would really suck if you didn't like your roommates though. You can't get away from them.

Elisa has been taking good care of me today. She painted my finger and toe nails earlier, and has been fetching me ice to try to keep my foot from swelling. Yesterday we went to Pocket - a place I've heard of for years, but never visited myself. We had to walk about 20 minutes up a trail, along a big creek. Then we climbed down the bank and sat on a huge rock in the creek for a while. It was really beautiful up there. I can imagine that it's really nice when it's warm and you can swim in the water. Instead it was cold and we entertained ourselves by knocking the icicles off the rock faces we passed.

Last night we did two things that made me laugh because of how terrible they were. First we went to a student's senior recital type thing. It was called her cabaret and involved singing and dancing. I was amused that at a Christian college her songs were about drinking, smoking, drug use, cheating, murder... just to name a few. The dancing was alright, but the singing not so much. I feel kind of mean for disliking it so much, but I can't help it. We left at the intermission because Joy was peeling her fingernails to distract from the pain.

The next plan for the evening was to go to a dance party. This seems like fun; I really enjoy dancing with Michal and Joy (even though I can't really dance right now). We spent forever getting ready as girls tend to do. They put on their heels and bright make up, and I tried to pretend I wouldn't be the oldest person by 6 years. When we finally showed up to these people's house (an hour late) there were five people there. One girl was wearing a red polyester jumpsuit with a belt. Another showed up in a blue wig, spiderman house shoes, and all manner of ridiculousness in between. We were offered tea, coffee, or life water! I've been to a lot of parties, and never in my life have I been to one where they didn't even have a soda. The music finally started (after we dragged half the party away from the video games) and it was all kind of music I can't even describe except to say that I might have enjoyed it if I were on some really strong drugs. One guy was jumping around with feathers in his hair, paint on his face, and later we discovered - paint on his chest. Joy finally got control of the music and started playing some hip hop and it got better for about 10 minutes. Then I decided it wasn't worth losing sleep for and we went home.

Michal and I are getting ready to drive back to Atlanta now.

I'm working on a dream

It's a beautiful day outside and I'm downstairs camped out in my cave. I'm very tired. I'm always tired these days. I don't think I realize how much energy one's body uses healing itself. I get out of breath walking up stairs. I sleep for 12 hours, wake up for 12, then sleep 12 more. I think I believed that once I could dress normal I should be able to act normal and have been wearing myself out trying.

I got my foot unwrapped on Wednesday. It looks funny and gross. It's really skinny, and I have to wear this sock thing that squeezes it and makes it look even skinnier. The skin looks really, really tan, but in reality just has two weeks worth of dead skin built up on it. I know it's gross. I'm the one that has to live with it. It's also still bruised and a little swollen. I've had more pain in the last few days than in the last two weeks. I can shower, which is great, but the water falling on my skin hurts. I should also mention that I'm a big baby and have been feeling very sorry for myself lately.

I had to wait until today to drive, but I did earlier and it was trauma-free. I bought a pair of men's house shoes on sale at TJMaxx for $3 so I wear one when I drive. It's the cherry on top of the extreme sexiness I have going on lately.

I'm going to a Valentine's Day banquet with my mama tonight that benefits a place that provides adult day care of Alzheimer's patients. I'm supposed to be taking a nap so I can save up the energy to drive to Newnan and back.

There was a plane crash last night and everyone died. It's always a huge reality check and very sobering when something like this happens. I don't worry that it will happen to me or anyone I know, but it does remind me of the brevity of life. My heart breaks for the loved ones of those who died.

I'm going to try to sleep so I can be in a better frame of mind for the rest of the day.

Looks like somebody's got a case of the Mondays

Two more days and my life with be much closer to normal. I'll be able to shower without worrying about getting my foot wet, and I'll be able to drive. Not being able to shower is more of a nuisance. I can't get ready in a hurry, and I don't feel completely clean after taking a bath. Not being able to drive is terrible though. This weekend I was fortunate enough to have a Patricia Drive friend, Chasity, come in town, be my chauffeur, and keep me company. My parents and Jonathan have also been very nice about taking me places, but it's still hard to go back to being dependent on other people to go anywhere. It's not like I can walk anywhere either. So I'm looking forward to Wednesday and hoping I get the all clear to drive.

At my doctor appointment last week I was amused to see my new foot. I've always had skinny feet, but having the joints on either side of my foot straightened up has taken my feet to a new level of skinny. It felt like I was looking at someone else's foot - except my second toe is still ridiculously long. He said everything is healing well. I saw the xrays and locations of the pins. It's all very fascinating.

I've been looking at graduate programs around Atlanta. Georgia State has a communications program with an emphasis in mass communication. Not sure if this is what I want. I'm not sure what I want period. I need to go ahead and sign up for the GRE and start studying for that.

Something I've been thinking about and haven't been able to figure out - I don't know what to do when I feel that people I love are unhappy and I can't do anything to help. We all have friends and family who have problems - money problems, relationship problems, personal problems - that only they can do anything about. Or maybe they can't even do anything about them. How am I supposed to live and act knowing they aren't happy, and I can't do anything about it? I wish I could fix things. I wish I could make someone never be lonely or never have to worry about money. But obviously I can't. So what am I supposed to do?

It's a beautiful day outside. I love winter in Georgia because of days like this. I'll be going back home today, and I'm looking forward to getting a little bit of normal back. I sure do miss my mama's cooking when I go home though.

regaining mobility one crutch at a time

I'm amazing myself tonight. It's past 9pm and I'm sitting up and awake. When J left I was actually standing up and could hug him properly. Last night I was passed out at 7:45 whether I liked it or not. The night before I slept through the entire Super Bowl party I went to, and then came home and slept all night. I'm also proud of myself because I've managed to take a bath every day since Sunday. It isn't easy with the whole bag and tape wrapped leg hanging out the edge, but having dirty hair is worse so I suffer through it.

Every day since Sunday I've left the house at least once, and it's getting easier each day. When we went out Sunday I almost threw up from motion sickness, and then slept the whole time I was out. Yesterday J decided to torture me by taking me to a shoe store. Later we met up with TanJoe for supper, and I barely remember any of it. It took all my energy just to get the food from the plate into my mouth. Conversation wasn't even an option. Tanya did bring me the second crutch which has made a huge difference. Today we saw "The Tale of Despereaux" for fifty cents each at the theater in Fayetteville. Then we stopped at Starbucks for some coffee (maybe the reason I'm still awake).

It's funny the way people feel so free to talk to you when you have crutches and/or a boot on your foot. Nearly every store I've been in someone has started telling me about their foot surgeries, broken ankles, hammer toes, broken shins, months on crutches - and I haven't even been a gimp for a week. In Starbucks today a lady sitting across from me told me she had had two surgeries on her foot. She named the doctor that did her surgery. He isn't mine, but he is the partner of mine. She sat there for a while knitting across from J and me. Then she told me I had the cutest hair cut. As she got up to leave she came over and said I had a contagious smile and asked J if he was going to marry me and that he should cause I was so pretty. I think she must've known that the sweatpants and mismatched shoes were getting to me and I needed a little pick me up. We made sure to remind her that looks weren't everything and that he might marry me if I can stay clean for more than a month or two. Oh, and if we can get that whole homicide charge cleared away.

People are so much fun.

After that it was off to the grocery store where I was advised by the cashier that I needed to come up with a better story (surgery is evidently quite dull). By then I could feel my toes trying to swell out of their stupid wrappings and came home to some good, home cooked food.

What a busy day... :-D

Staring at the ceiling

I'm lying on the couch listening to davefm with my pops. He's babysitting me this morning. I'm getting tired of lying down all the time. I got up earlier and sat in a chair at the table but it made me so tired and kind of light headed. I've backed off on the ice today and am sticking with keeping my foot elevated. I can actually feel my foot now. Sometimes I'd rather not.

There are probably very few things more boring than a play by play of how my foot is doing, but there really isn't much going on in my life at this point. The highlight of my day so far was Peter's 25 Things list on facebook. Started my day off with a laugh.

I had a weird dream last night. I was with a bunch of fancy people and we might have been doing a movie. Not sure. I knew the outcome - something was going to explode - and even though I wasn't going to be hurt by it somehow I still didn't want to do it so I made myself wake up. I feel like absinthe was involved, but am not sure how. I'm sure it's the drugs that makes me dream such things.

I really want to take a shower/bath, but I have to save up more energy for it. Charity and Tanya came over yesterday and brought lots of books, movies, and goodies. I'm trying to figure out how much my mind can handle right now. Or maybe I'll just go back to sleep for a while. It's kind of amusing that I have to plan my day around a bath and a Super Bowl party. I can't bathe too late or I won't have any energy for the party. If I bathe too early I'll get bead head again from lying around half the day. What a dilemma.

This is enough pointless drivel for now.

Progress report

I'm not sure why, but I keep waking up really early. Maybe because I keep going to sleep early. The Percocet isn't having the desired "knock me out every time I take it" effect, but when it gets close to the evening it starts to. I fell asleep mid-text last night.

When I woke up yesterday I could feel that my foot had started to swell - I guess from going so long without ice. I was also started to get feeling back from my heel up to my arch and it wasn't good. The drugs and ice were helping with that until I decided I needed to bathe last night. I think all the activity - and the anesthesia continuing to wear off - made it hurt again. (Sitting in the bathtub with one foot hanging out the side isn't as comfortable as it may sound.) When I went to sleep last night I could distinctively feel my second and third toes when they were touched, but nothing on the first one (can't get to the others). I've managed to use the desk chair as a wheel chair which keep the weight off my foot (and keeps everyone around me amused).

All in all I've been doing very well. My mama is feeding me so well. Grits, eggs, and cheese for breakfast. Homemade minestrone soup and rolls for lunch. Southwest chili, cornbread, and salad for supper. If you're ever going to be an invalid I highly recommend my parents' house. Plus she's good company (and my daddy when he's home).

Jonathan came over in the afternoon to amuse me, though we mostly sat here on laptops next to each other. He babysits so my mom can go do her errands :-) My flowers are continuing to open up more and more every day. They're roses, lilies, and astromelia all in shades of yellows, oranges, and some dark pinks here and there. Pretty much as close to an indoor sunset as you'll ever see. He hung around until I started to drool on his shoulder ;-).

Tanya and Charity are coming to visit me today, and maybe Jersey later. I have to say, this is exactly what I needed. I do look forward to when bathing and going to the restroom aren't such a mission and when my foot doesn't have to be above my heart all the time, and I hope the pain stays under control, but all in all, life is good right now.

The deal with my foot

I'm not sure what woke me up, but now I'm awake. I took my percocet, hauled myself to the bathroom (no small feat), and am now wandering around the web. I'm not sure but it feels like I might be starting to feel my foot again. I hope not. I'm not ready for the pain.

Yesterday morning I had surgery on my right foot. I have bunions (which aren't as gross as they sound). It's a genetic problem where the bone structure of your foot spreads out across your toe joints. This can happen with the first joint by the big toe causing the big toe to turn inwards toward the second toe. Evidently it can also happen with the joint of the baby toe as well (it did on mine). I've been reading a lot about them and some say the toe turns inward first causing the bump on the outside of the joint, others say the bump pushes the toe inward. Whatever the case is, it becomes very painful over time. Shoes stop fitting right and life in general becomes a bit miserable. To correct it they cut open the side of your joint, push the joint back over to the next one, and pin it there. Sometimes they have to remove parts of bone that build up over time. Joy has had this surgery correcting both of her and has had good results. Tanya also had surgery last month and seems to be healing well.

I've always had really bony feet so I didn't even know there was anything wrong until I went to the podiatrist for something else. They told me I had them several years ago. I didn't believe them (what an obnoxious patient), but as time went on my feet started hurting more and more. I'm on my feet all the time as it is, but it started to get bad enough where I went back to the doctor.

After working hard last year to pay off some other debts, and getting as much traveling in as I could, I finally got the right foot done yesterday. So far so good. I've been lying on the couch at my parents' with my foot above my heart as much as possible. Yesterday while I was awake we had to ice it for 30 minutes, then take it off for 10 minutes - the whole day. It helps my foot not swell as much, which will help it heal better. I'll be lying down, doing the ice thing, for the next 2 days. After that I should be able to be a little more mobile, but can't drive for 2 weeks. I have to go back on Wed to make sure everything is fine. They'll rewrap it, and put my air boot on (I think).

I'll be out of work for at least 6 weeks. I'm really excited about it. The last few months have been really hectic so I'm excited to have forced down time. I'm looking forward to being able to catch up on real life and get to know my friends and family again. I have some writing projects I want to do, and want to use this time to start preparing to take the test to get into grad school.

I think I"ll try sleep again.

Currently reading: My Little Blue Dress By Bruno Maddox

Something about Syracuse

The long and winding road has brought me to Syracuse, NY. My room is finally warm enough to take my scarf off. I feel like the town is underneath a big sifter. I'm hearing stories of 10 inches of snow, but hopefully I'll be headed back to Atlanta before it gets too bad. I don't like winter. This morning on the flight back from Flint, MI I wore all three pairs of socks in my suitcase so my feet would stop aching from cold.

I'm having surgery Thursday morning. I'm really looking forward to it. I'm tired of my feet hurting all the time. I'm also tired of being on the go all the time. During the first three days there's a ridiculous icing regimen that will keep my foot from swelling, and since I'll be on patron and perc and can't think - or just percocet - I'll be staying at my parents' so my Mama can take care of me.

This time a week ago I was touring the Atlantis at the top of the Palm in Dubai. Previously we had toured the Berj Al Arab - the 7 star, sail-shaped hotel, gone on a dune buggy desert safari, seen many expensive malls, visited the gold souks, haggled over pashminas, and eaten far too much.

I got up at 4:30 this morning and am now in a daze trying to stay awake until a reasonable time. I'm thinking 7 sounds good. Tomorrow is a 4am wake up, then no more suitcases, wake up calls, cold airplanes, grumpy passengers, reduced rest, and navy polyester for quite a while. I'm loving it.

To start my 29th year off Jonathan took me to Chima, a Brazilian steakhouse. I'd never been to one before and it was even better than I had expected. Not only did they bring you every kind of beef, there was also salmon, yellowtail, chicken, and pork. There might have been more but I was full and had to make them stop bringing food. The eating and celebrating continued with the family the next day. The dark chocolate cake wasn't square or round. It was different and outside of the box - what we're hoping for the coming year.

Currently reading: One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich By Alexander Solzhenitsyn

On the shores of the Persian Gulf

I have no idea how long I've been in Dubai. I can look at my watch but there's a 9 hour time difference and I can't tell if it's am or pm back home without too much thought. They say when it's light here it's dark there, but who knows. All I know is that it's Friday here. Thursday was about 5 hours long. We went to sleep on Wed night around 11pm on the flight. When I woke up we were about 2 hours away from Dubai and the sun was about to set on Thursday. The flight was wonderful. We got business elite, ate, slept, ate again, and were here. Not a bad way to pass 14 hours. It was interesting that if you watched the moving map they would regularly show the direction and distance from Mecca.

There is such a variety of people here. I have seen a few completely covered women, but there are a lot of westerners and a lot that are only partially covered. It seems that some women are thinking if you can only see their faces then they are going to make them look as good as possible. Their make up, skin, and eyebrows are immaculate. Some of the women have really elaborate trimming on their black coverings - sequins and beads - or have really flashy shoes and pants underneath. It's kind of an interesting combination. I wish I knew more of the rules of their culture so I could understand how it works.

Right now I'm sitting at the window on the 42nd floor of one of the many residential skyscrapers. I can look out over the Persian Gulf and see the island that is shaped like a palm tree. The weather is beautiful. Reminds me of southern California. We walked to a late breakfast and are now off to see a bit of the town.

the long drive south

Lying on my bed, listening to the radio, surfing the net it's hard to remember the stress of the beginning of this week. I feel fortunate to be at home.

After arriving in Joburg and spending the first night with Adri's auntie we drove south to Bloemfontein. I met Adri's mother, her husband, some of her relatives, and an assortment of animals - including a parrot who drank fanta and beer, ate human food, and could unwrap a chocolate. I spent a short night in a thatched roof bedroom before Adri woke me up at 4:45 to drive south. The time difference really hits you when you realize that people back home are still awake from the previous day and you're getting up for the next one.

We drove hours and hours through fairly arid terrain. Sometimes there were mountains. Sometimes there were sheep, cows, and ostriches. I saw plants that made me think Dr. Seuss had visited Africa and been inspired by them. We had breakfast at Wimpy - a South African breakfast favorite. I realized how American I am when I got annoyed by the people whose children ran around in public without shoes on. It's not that they can't afford them - they just don't see the need.

We made a little detour on the way to a place called the Valley of Desolation. We passed villages where the houses made my bedroom look large and you could tell who was doing better by whether they had an outhouse. By then it was very hot so we stopped for cornish pies and grapetizer. I nearly got hit by a car because I forgot the pedestrian never has the right of way. I also forgot about the guys who hang out in parking lots and "help" you park and watch your cars and expect you to pay them for their services.

In order to get to the Valley of Desolation you had to drive up a very narrow and winding road that didn't have guard rails. There was a lot of scrub, but other than that it was pretty dry and, you guessed it, desolate. It was a clear day and the view from the top was impressive. There were a lot of light brown mountains with odd angles. It made me wonder what was going on inside the earth to make them come up that way. I saw an English guy climb up on a few boulders piled high at the edge of a cliff and pose for a great photo. I wanted a similar picture, but I think it took me 20 minutes to work up the courage to stand up there. I was really far from the edge, but evidently I'm far more scared of heights than I realized. My heart was pounding, but hopefully Adri was far enough away where my gritted teeth look like a smile.

After nearly running out of gas in the middle of nowhere (due to a lack of gas stations) we finally made it to Port Elizabeth around 2:30pm. The long drive has worn me out so I'll tell the rest from there later.

the way across the pond

I haven’t been able to write since I left the US due to terrible internet connections, and now that I’m finally able to there is so much to write about.

I can’t remember the last time I was as anxious going to the airport as I was on Sunday. I had packed my bags (without the copious lists of previous African adventures), traded my trips, and done everything I could think of to prepare. Connecting in Dakar, Senegal had me a little concerned, as did being on an airplane for 19 hours. I haven’t done it in a long time and was wondering if I’d be able to. It’s also said that people get bumped off flying through Dakar due to weight and the flights being oversold.

I finally made it on the flight - missing business class by one person. In spite of my disappointment, I was pleased to find out the movies were free and on demand, and I was seated by the window next to a guy who didn’t smell, didn’t have a baby, and preferred sleep to anything else. During the flight leg of the flight (a mere 8 hours) I watched 7 TV shows and two movies.

During the 1.5 hour layover in Dakar, where they somehow managed to clean the plane with us still on it and do a complete security search, I was able to migrate to the front of the plane. Here I was treated like the queen I am, given breakfast, and a champagne glass that never seemed to empty. After that it was about 3am according to my body, and I slept the rest of the flight.

Adri and her cousin picked me up at the airport and we went to her aunt’s place. Just on the drive to the house I was reminded of so many things I’d forgotten about South Africa. It takes a few minutes to get used to being on the opposite side of the road and the car. Stop lights are robots. Stop signs are stop streets. Trucks are bakkies. You don’t buy a soda at a gas station. You buy a cool drink at the petrol shop. The walls and fences that surround every house were also a harsh reminder of how rough it is down here.

I made it through a nice dinner and conversation about the family, rugby, and cricket (there was a huge match coming on at 1am they were going to get up to watch) before washing the last 24 hours of grime off and passing out. There was a fierce African rainstorm that helped me sleep solidly through their night (my afternoon and evening).

We’re headed to the beach in the morning so I need to try to sleep now. I’ve been trying not to get too adjusted to the time here, but it leaves me tired all the time, so now I just sleep whenever I can. More to come.