I'm on the third day of my healing and it's going great. My mama is taking such good care of me and I've had a few visitors to interrupt my sleep/lounge around activities.
I've been able to talk ever since I had surgery. I try to keep it in moderation, but usually get sleepy before my voice gets too tired. I don't feel like I sound very different, but others say my voice sounds stronger with the same amount of effort that used to get a pretty weak sound.
I'm regaining a lot of flexibility in my neck, which was pretty sore from the angle it was in during the surgery and just from the surgery. For the first day I felt like someone had punched me in my throat. No sharp pain, just an ache. I've been diligent about taking my medicine regularly though which is keeping the pain well under control. They said today would be the most painful day, but it's been good so far. I still have a lot of numbness on my throat all the way up to my jaw line.
There is hope that once the swelling goes down I will be able to swallow without turning my head. I can swallow better now but every once in a while it makes me choke which hurts more than it's worth. I have a row of stitches in my throat that aren't so pretty, but they will come out Tuesday. Jonathan said the cut is already looking calmer than even yesterday. Between him and my mother I have been well fed - chicken soup, spaghetti squash with spinach, a gravy biscuit, yogurt, and banana. As long as I chew a lot most things are easy to swallow.
So now I'm about to take my steriod, percocet, and antibiotic and probably go back to sleep for a while. I slept the best last night (between the alarms I set for my medicine) than I have all week.
The prayers and love continue to make me feel happy and peaceful.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
sleepy, happy surgery day
I'm working on a thorough explanation of my day, but for now I'll sum it up.
Mama, Jonathan, Jamie, and I got to the hospital around 10am this morning. After a lengthy pre-op I went into surgery about 1:20pm. I had two really amusing anesthesiologists, plus three friendly doctors (or two doctors and a resident - I'm not sure), and several nurses. They used a local anesthesia along with calming/relaxing drugs. They also put cocaine (no lie) in my nose so they could stick a camera tube into my throat at different points during the surgery. Cocaine is evidently good for shrinking your nasal membranes... I was aware of everything which made the process really interesting - and not scary or disgusting at all. They answered my questions and only gave me a few times I couldn't talk or swallow. I was really impressed by Dr. Klein's experience that became evident as he was explaining things to the other two doctors.
I was wrapped up like a bug in a rug (or a crazy person in a loose straight jacket). My eyes were covered to keep the light out, but Dr. Klein did move the towels long enough to show me the gortex they were putting in my throat. They cut through the skin and moved the muscles aside to get to my thyroid cartilage. I think they ended up cutting a little bit of the muscle away for easier access. Then they removed a 3mm x 5mm piece of cartilage to make a window to my right vocal cord.
At this point they began testing pressure in different places to find out where they would eventually put the implant. I would count to 10, hold a low eeeee sound, occasionally a high one, and shout. We eventually settled on shouting "heads down, stay down" which is our flight attendant emergency evacuation command - and probably the only thing I've ever really shouted. He would tell me to speak and we would all comment on the results. Sometimes it was raspier, sometimes it was clearer but with an obvious strain. I did get one that was a slightly higher tone, which I told him would be fine with me if it was the best one. The one we eventually settled on was basically like my voice except clearer and louder. One of the people in a more distant part of the room even commented that it was definitely the loudest one.
They finally got it in place and stitched me back up. There is a drain under a bandage, but they said I didn't bleed very much so the drain will probably come out in the morning. I listened as they instructed the resident (?) on how to do a stitch that will allow the drain to be removed and not have to put another stitch in. Like I said, it was a really interesting process.
I spent about 2.5 hours in recovery mostly dozing and being given medicine. My room wasn't ready and eventually they took me to another room. I feel like I have done an inordinate amount of waiting today (along with my mama, Jamie, Jonathan, my Uncle Norborne, and Charity who stopped by but I couldn't see her cause I was still in recovery.) Other than that it's been a great experience. It is a very calm, friendly environment here.
I talked a lot when I first got in the room and told what I could remember before I forget all the details. Now my neck is sore. The nurse finally brought me some apple juice, broth, and medicine so I'll probably sleep soon. It's been a long and wonderful day.
I have been surrounded by love in person and via phone, facebook, email, and skype. God continues to be good to me - as He always has been - and I feel so very loved. My mama is spending the night here at the hospital with me, and we expect to be discharged in the morning when the doctors do their rounds.
Mama, Jonathan, Jamie, and I got to the hospital around 10am this morning. After a lengthy pre-op I went into surgery about 1:20pm. I had two really amusing anesthesiologists, plus three friendly doctors (or two doctors and a resident - I'm not sure), and several nurses. They used a local anesthesia along with calming/relaxing drugs. They also put cocaine (no lie) in my nose so they could stick a camera tube into my throat at different points during the surgery. Cocaine is evidently good for shrinking your nasal membranes... I was aware of everything which made the process really interesting - and not scary or disgusting at all. They answered my questions and only gave me a few times I couldn't talk or swallow. I was really impressed by Dr. Klein's experience that became evident as he was explaining things to the other two doctors.
I was wrapped up like a bug in a rug (or a crazy person in a loose straight jacket). My eyes were covered to keep the light out, but Dr. Klein did move the towels long enough to show me the gortex they were putting in my throat. They cut through the skin and moved the muscles aside to get to my thyroid cartilage. I think they ended up cutting a little bit of the muscle away for easier access. Then they removed a 3mm x 5mm piece of cartilage to make a window to my right vocal cord.
At this point they began testing pressure in different places to find out where they would eventually put the implant. I would count to 10, hold a low eeeee sound, occasionally a high one, and shout. We eventually settled on shouting "heads down, stay down" which is our flight attendant emergency evacuation command - and probably the only thing I've ever really shouted. He would tell me to speak and we would all comment on the results. Sometimes it was raspier, sometimes it was clearer but with an obvious strain. I did get one that was a slightly higher tone, which I told him would be fine with me if it was the best one. The one we eventually settled on was basically like my voice except clearer and louder. One of the people in a more distant part of the room even commented that it was definitely the loudest one.
They finally got it in place and stitched me back up. There is a drain under a bandage, but they said I didn't bleed very much so the drain will probably come out in the morning. I listened as they instructed the resident (?) on how to do a stitch that will allow the drain to be removed and not have to put another stitch in. Like I said, it was a really interesting process.
I spent about 2.5 hours in recovery mostly dozing and being given medicine. My room wasn't ready and eventually they took me to another room. I feel like I have done an inordinate amount of waiting today (along with my mama, Jamie, Jonathan, my Uncle Norborne, and Charity who stopped by but I couldn't see her cause I was still in recovery.) Other than that it's been a great experience. It is a very calm, friendly environment here.
I talked a lot when I first got in the room and told what I could remember before I forget all the details. Now my neck is sore. The nurse finally brought me some apple juice, broth, and medicine so I'll probably sleep soon. It's been a long and wonderful day.
I have been surrounded by love in person and via phone, facebook, email, and skype. God continues to be good to me - as He always has been - and I feel so very loved. My mama is spending the night here at the hospital with me, and we expect to be discharged in the morning when the doctors do their rounds.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
On top of bro-ccoli, all covered with snow...
Recently I learned from Jonathan that you can microwave broccoli in a bowl with a little water, pour some olive oil and sea salt on it and you have a divine bit of food. It seems most people like to cook broccoli into a soggy, forest green, bit of hideousness. I was pleased to discover just a few minutes would bring that bright shade of green and perfect bite-ability that I enjoy in broccoli. I ate an entire head of it. My fingers are evidently not as skilled on the microwave keypad, or maybe I was just too impatient, so Jonathan remains the king of broccoli microwaving.
I finished a two-day trip tonight. It was easy. An Omaha overnight sandwiched in between two round trips to Ohio. Omaha has evidently had the misfortune of two blizzards in the last few weeks. There was a car in the parking lot that has been covered in snow for the last week. There were piles of snow as high as a house. Thankfully, unlike Wichita last week, the snow is still white and pretty. It was actually still falling. I thought of my younger siblings who have never seen that much snow.
This whole month I've been flying with flight attendants with are my friends. It's made a huge difference in my feelings about going to work. It's nice not to worry about being stuck in a metal tube with angry, lazy, bossy, rude, loud... You get it. Last night my fellow flight attendant and I had a pajama party complete with boxes of wine, chocolate, and a chick flick. "27 Dresses" had me reminiscing about some of the delightful weddings I've had the privilege of being in... We didn't have time to paint our nails.
I had great plans for the evening (after I got home at 9:30.) The dishwasher needs unloading. The dishwasher needs loading. I need to take the trash out. And, all my work shirts, undershirts, and socks are dirty. But, so far I've eaten random things, been made extremely uncomfortable by Michael Scott on The Office, chatted with Christine in HK, and drank some wine. There's always the morning, right?
I finished Pride and Prejudice. It was great. I want to watch the movie now.
I finished a two-day trip tonight. It was easy. An Omaha overnight sandwiched in between two round trips to Ohio. Omaha has evidently had the misfortune of two blizzards in the last few weeks. There was a car in the parking lot that has been covered in snow for the last week. There were piles of snow as high as a house. Thankfully, unlike Wichita last week, the snow is still white and pretty. It was actually still falling. I thought of my younger siblings who have never seen that much snow.
This whole month I've been flying with flight attendants with are my friends. It's made a huge difference in my feelings about going to work. It's nice not to worry about being stuck in a metal tube with angry, lazy, bossy, rude, loud... You get it. Last night my fellow flight attendant and I had a pajama party complete with boxes of wine, chocolate, and a chick flick. "27 Dresses" had me reminiscing about some of the delightful weddings I've had the privilege of being in... We didn't have time to paint our nails.
I had great plans for the evening (after I got home at 9:30.) The dishwasher needs unloading. The dishwasher needs loading. I need to take the trash out. And, all my work shirts, undershirts, and socks are dirty. But, so far I've eaten random things, been made extremely uncomfortable by Michael Scott on The Office, chatted with Christine in HK, and drank some wine. There's always the morning, right?
I finished Pride and Prejudice. It was great. I want to watch the movie now.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
rain drops on a Saturday afternoon
I'm kind of happy that it's raining today. It gives me an excuse to sit inside and drink coffee with my beau. It's my first day off in a week and feels wonderful.
Being full, happy, content and warm in times like these does make me feel a bit guilty. Last night as Jonathan and I stood in my apartment we watched the police tape off an area on the bridge where Peachtree Street crosses I-85. It was confirmed this morning that a man had committed suicide by jumping off the bridge onto the interstate below. I always have a hard time understanding how someone can feel so hopeless and unhappy that they actively want to die, but now, in light of the disaster in Haiti this week, it is even harder for me to understand why someone would choose to end their life. How can millions of people be fighting for survival in one place and a person is giving up in another place?
The last few weeks have repeatedly made me realize how fortunate I am. We spent about 2 weeks in below freezing weather here in Atlanta. I would come home from a trip, turn the heat on, and smell the distinctive smell of heat. How many people in the world have never smelled mechanically produced heat? How many people will never know the instant warmth of a hot shower? We are spoiled people.
I was at a restaurant last night having dinner with Jonathan and another couple and we saw the images of suffering in Haiti on tv. I wanted to turn away, to not let those pictures stick in my mind. They are unpleasant and uncomfortable. But what is my mental discomfort compared to the loss of these people? I hope I can never ignore the suffering of others. I also hope that I don't just sit around and appreciate how great my life is. If my discomfort doesn't lead to action on behalf of others, then I am a sad person.
On a more cheerful note, I am reading "Pride and Prejudice" for the first time. I can see why it is such a classic. In spite of the fancy language, it's actually quite funny and charming.
I met a man on my last flight yesterday who made me feel happy for marriage. He has been married 30 years and said he was probably just as excited to get home and see his wife as I was to see Jonathan. He said she is his best friend and that the trip they just took would have been so much more fun if she could have come. She is a very straight forward woman, which helps because they always both know where they stand with each other. When they first got married as juniors in high school people placed bets on their marriage only last 8months - a year max. I hope they collected on those bets.
Being full, happy, content and warm in times like these does make me feel a bit guilty. Last night as Jonathan and I stood in my apartment we watched the police tape off an area on the bridge where Peachtree Street crosses I-85. It was confirmed this morning that a man had committed suicide by jumping off the bridge onto the interstate below. I always have a hard time understanding how someone can feel so hopeless and unhappy that they actively want to die, but now, in light of the disaster in Haiti this week, it is even harder for me to understand why someone would choose to end their life. How can millions of people be fighting for survival in one place and a person is giving up in another place?
The last few weeks have repeatedly made me realize how fortunate I am. We spent about 2 weeks in below freezing weather here in Atlanta. I would come home from a trip, turn the heat on, and smell the distinctive smell of heat. How many people in the world have never smelled mechanically produced heat? How many people will never know the instant warmth of a hot shower? We are spoiled people.
I was at a restaurant last night having dinner with Jonathan and another couple and we saw the images of suffering in Haiti on tv. I wanted to turn away, to not let those pictures stick in my mind. They are unpleasant and uncomfortable. But what is my mental discomfort compared to the loss of these people? I hope I can never ignore the suffering of others. I also hope that I don't just sit around and appreciate how great my life is. If my discomfort doesn't lead to action on behalf of others, then I am a sad person.
On a more cheerful note, I am reading "Pride and Prejudice" for the first time. I can see why it is such a classic. In spite of the fancy language, it's actually quite funny and charming.
I met a man on my last flight yesterday who made me feel happy for marriage. He has been married 30 years and said he was probably just as excited to get home and see his wife as I was to see Jonathan. He said she is his best friend and that the trip they just took would have been so much more fun if she could have come. She is a very straight forward woman, which helps because they always both know where they stand with each other. When they first got married as juniors in high school people placed bets on their marriage only last 8months - a year max. I hope they collected on those bets.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
I'm annoyed
The music in the Houston Airport reminds me of what they play before funerals. The tinny organ sound. The uninteresting melody. Where is the body?
Today is day four of six. I did it to myself. I think just knowing I get off work at 9pm and have to be back before 8am is filling me with a sense of annoyance. I was annoyed at the long dark hairs that were in my bed last night. Annoyed that the captain made us leave the hotel so early this morning that we've been at the airport now for almost an hour and the plane still isn't even here. I ordered a sausage biscuit which, according to the sign, included egg. When I got the biscuit all it was was a piece of sausage on a biscuit. I went back and the guy said - you ordered a sausage biscuit. Yeah, but I thought the freaking egg came with it since the sign says it does. As I'm eating my biscuit I see a couple walk past. I think they might be cast members on Jersey Shore, which I have never watched, but I know the type. She is wearing a tshirt, oversize baseball cap, black aviators (inside a building at 10am), white sweatpants and black uggs. I'm so annoyed already that I want to go tell her to take her aviators off and look in the mirror because they must be obscuring her vision and making her think she looks good.
Our plane is here so I'm going to go put on my happy face and go to work. I'm sure it's going to be a fabulous day :)
Today is day four of six. I did it to myself. I think just knowing I get off work at 9pm and have to be back before 8am is filling me with a sense of annoyance. I was annoyed at the long dark hairs that were in my bed last night. Annoyed that the captain made us leave the hotel so early this morning that we've been at the airport now for almost an hour and the plane still isn't even here. I ordered a sausage biscuit which, according to the sign, included egg. When I got the biscuit all it was was a piece of sausage on a biscuit. I went back and the guy said - you ordered a sausage biscuit. Yeah, but I thought the freaking egg came with it since the sign says it does. As I'm eating my biscuit I see a couple walk past. I think they might be cast members on Jersey Shore, which I have never watched, but I know the type. She is wearing a tshirt, oversize baseball cap, black aviators (inside a building at 10am), white sweatpants and black uggs. I'm so annoyed already that I want to go tell her to take her aviators off and look in the mirror because they must be obscuring her vision and making her think she looks good.
Our plane is here so I'm going to go put on my happy face and go to work. I'm sure it's going to be a fabulous day :)
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Oh the weather everywhere is frightful
A little girl got on the flight last night coming out to Wichita, Kansas. She was wearing sparkly red shoes. I thought it was very appropriate. I wonder if she clicked them and then her mom bought a plane ticket.
I just walked about two miles in 27 degree weather with snow flurrying in my face to pay someone to rip hair off my body. I find it amusing how willing people are to share personal information when you're at their mercy.
I'm in the middle of a trip that is payback for not working at Christmas time. I played then so now I must earn some money. It's been a good trip. I'm just glad that (as of right now) I don't have to get up at 4am for at least another month.
It seems that the whole United States has settled into a nice cozy upper twenties environment. It was 23 in Ft. Walton Beach, 25 in Atlanta, and now 27 in Wichita. I feel like I might be getting used to it, but it might just be the many layers of clothes I constantly wear that is allowing me to ignore reality. Going to the bathroom on a regional jet wearing a scarf, pea coat, sweater, vest, dress shirt, undershirt, bra, slacks, thermals, underwear, knee-high wools socks, and boots should now be considered an Olympic sport. I'm thinking about getting a catheter just for the winter.
I've been trying to eat more fruit and vegetables lately. It's making me realizing how much crap I eat. I also eat a lot out of boredom. Flying will do that to you.
I just walked about two miles in 27 degree weather with snow flurrying in my face to pay someone to rip hair off my body. I find it amusing how willing people are to share personal information when you're at their mercy.
I'm in the middle of a trip that is payback for not working at Christmas time. I played then so now I must earn some money. It's been a good trip. I'm just glad that (as of right now) I don't have to get up at 4am for at least another month.
It seems that the whole United States has settled into a nice cozy upper twenties environment. It was 23 in Ft. Walton Beach, 25 in Atlanta, and now 27 in Wichita. I feel like I might be getting used to it, but it might just be the many layers of clothes I constantly wear that is allowing me to ignore reality. Going to the bathroom on a regional jet wearing a scarf, pea coat, sweater, vest, dress shirt, undershirt, bra, slacks, thermals, underwear, knee-high wools socks, and boots should now be considered an Olympic sport. I'm thinking about getting a catheter just for the winter.
I've been trying to eat more fruit and vegetables lately. It's making me realizing how much crap I eat. I also eat a lot out of boredom. Flying will do that to you.
Monday, January 4, 2010
I'm nuts for butternut
Tonight I made some delightful butternut squash soup thanks to advice from Adri and Christine and just plain luck. It was fun and tasty. I think I put too much sage (I prefer savory butternut to sweet) so it reminds me a little of Thanksgiving, but it's still so good I made toast just so I could sop up what was left in the blender.
We're having some frightfully cold weather here in Atlanta. I'm not a fan at all. I have the heat set on 67 and it has been running constantly for days. I'm also wearing smartwool socks, slippers, pants, and three shirts. I have to do a round trip to Valdosta tomorrow morning and am dreading it. It's easy money but it's so cold I'd rather be snug in bed.
Today I did a whole lot of busy stuff. I bought vegetables, broth, lemons, and cereal at Trader Joe's so I can eat consistently and healthily this week. Cooking for yourself is not only cheap and healthy, but it gives such a sense of accomplishment.
It's a good thing I'm eating cheap because I spent $50 today to get my FMLA paperwork filled out. I don't understand how they justify it. It's not like they're doing me a favor. I could understand if that was the case, but it's not something I can do myself. They leave you no choice. I was also reminded that my surgery will be followed by a 24hr observation stay in the hospital. I've never stayed in the hospital since I can remember. One more thing to add to the nerves of it. I'm sure it'll be fine and wonderful.
Sometimes I like to look out my window and pretend that the peach on top of the building across the street from me is a big harvest moon. Works better if I take my contacts off.
On that note, it's time to iron the collar and sleeves of my work shirt and go to sleep.
We're having some frightfully cold weather here in Atlanta. I'm not a fan at all. I have the heat set on 67 and it has been running constantly for days. I'm also wearing smartwool socks, slippers, pants, and three shirts. I have to do a round trip to Valdosta tomorrow morning and am dreading it. It's easy money but it's so cold I'd rather be snug in bed.
Today I did a whole lot of busy stuff. I bought vegetables, broth, lemons, and cereal at Trader Joe's so I can eat consistently and healthily this week. Cooking for yourself is not only cheap and healthy, but it gives such a sense of accomplishment.
It's a good thing I'm eating cheap because I spent $50 today to get my FMLA paperwork filled out. I don't understand how they justify it. It's not like they're doing me a favor. I could understand if that was the case, but it's not something I can do myself. They leave you no choice. I was also reminded that my surgery will be followed by a 24hr observation stay in the hospital. I've never stayed in the hospital since I can remember. One more thing to add to the nerves of it. I'm sure it'll be fine and wonderful.
Sometimes I like to look out my window and pretend that the peach on top of the building across the street from me is a big harvest moon. Works better if I take my contacts off.
On that note, it's time to iron the collar and sleeves of my work shirt and go to sleep.
Friday, December 25, 2009
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.
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.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
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.
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.
Monday, November 9, 2009
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.
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.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
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.
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.
Friday, October 23, 2009
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.
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.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
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.
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.
Monday, October 19, 2009
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.
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.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
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
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
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
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.
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.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
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.
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, September 6, 2009
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.
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.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
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.
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.
Monday, August 10, 2009
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.
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.
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