Today I wanted to blog about California. I wanted it to be my last blog from Cali, something meaningful.
I find myself at a complete inability to sum up the 6 weeks of laughter, growth, healing, friendship, learning, amazement and fun that has happened here in words.
I find it impossible to take these people who have been my family over the last 6 weeks...the ones who are there at breakfast every morning, who I walk to dinner with every night, who i dress in 80's gear with for socials, and who are in that circle with me during American Pie into words that have limits...
I find it impossible to talk about the healing and personal growth that happened in Palo Alto. The past disappointments which were erased, the things I learned about myself, the things I learned about others, and the relief your heart feels when all is well in your world...into some group of characters that i can type with this keyboard.
I can't begin to explain the laughter, the tears, the hilarity and the emotion that goes into 6 weeks. Words for Orbit Ball, Medic, and Socials...into learning and dancing the Hoe-Down Throw down for the first time...into solving 31 rows of Pascals Triangle.
So, my lack of words has frustrated me. And I am just going to say this...and then take my friend Patty's advice and blog after I leave here and reality can set in...
This has been the best summer of my life. I met some really amazing people that I'm going to miss. I found what had been missing for a really long time. I laughed harder than I remember in a long time. I loved every last minute...And, I didn't catch the Swine Flu.
aformerblonde.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Friday, July 17, 2009
An Ode to the Lady on the Caltrain to Palo Alto...
To the lady in the front seat of the train
I dedicate this blog:
So tonight, on the train back to Palo Alto, I met an interesting lady.
I don't know her name so I'll just call her Sadie.
As I waited for the train I caught up on some calls
and talked to my friend Cindy about movies and malls.
And then the train arrived and I jumped aboard,
and found a seat in the second row facing forward.
I continued my phone call as I sat down
When Sadie, in front of me, shooshed me with a frown.
Thats right, shooshed me with a frown.
As I continued my phone call back home to Kentucky
she continued to shoosh and make hand signals at me.
I was so confused, for you see I wasn't yelling
I was speaking in a quiet voice, ask Cindy she'll tellya.
When I hung up the phone, and began to redial
now I'm going to irritate her...there's no denial.
She asked me if I knew there was no talking on the train
and from speaking to anyone, I should refrain.
I didn't respond to her insane demands
and I wasn't afraid of her "scary" reprimands.
She asked if I was ignoring her, or if I could hear
I'm talking on a cell phone, doesn't that make it pretty clear?
And then since I ignored her, she decided to say
(which breaks her own rule, if i may)
to the lady next to her, who was reading a book
that there is no hope for the future, don't you see
cause there is no respect, and no courtesy!
Now on my third phone call, she continued to stare
Sadie with the light purple shaded hair.
She told me there were rules, she asked me "don't you know",
I was beginning to love the fact that she wouldn't let it go.
My ride was nearly over, the Palo Alto stop was next,
I wanted to ask her if there was a rule regarding texts.
However, as I stood up to leave my spot
I noticed Sadie was exiting at this stop.
And as she stood, and we met eyes
I said, "After you," to her surprise,
Cause though I talk, (since I have a mouth),
I most certainly have manners, I'm from the SOUTH!
So, Sadie on the train, wherever you may be,
I'll make sure to ride the talking train next time for the extra fee.
aformerblonde.
I dedicate this blog:
So tonight, on the train back to Palo Alto, I met an interesting lady.
I don't know her name so I'll just call her Sadie.
As I waited for the train I caught up on some calls
and talked to my friend Cindy about movies and malls.
And then the train arrived and I jumped aboard,
and found a seat in the second row facing forward.
I continued my phone call as I sat down
When Sadie, in front of me, shooshed me with a frown.
Thats right, shooshed me with a frown.
As I continued my phone call back home to Kentucky
she continued to shoosh and make hand signals at me.
I was so confused, for you see I wasn't yelling
I was speaking in a quiet voice, ask Cindy she'll tellya.
When I hung up the phone, and began to redial
now I'm going to irritate her...there's no denial.
She asked me if I knew there was no talking on the train
and from speaking to anyone, I should refrain.
I didn't respond to her insane demands
and I wasn't afraid of her "scary" reprimands.
She asked if I was ignoring her, or if I could hear
I'm talking on a cell phone, doesn't that make it pretty clear?
And then since I ignored her, she decided to say
(which breaks her own rule, if i may)
to the lady next to her, who was reading a book
that there is no hope for the future, don't you see
cause there is no respect, and no courtesy!
Now on my third phone call, she continued to stare
Sadie with the light purple shaded hair.
She told me there were rules, she asked me "don't you know",
I was beginning to love the fact that she wouldn't let it go.
My ride was nearly over, the Palo Alto stop was next,
I wanted to ask her if there was a rule regarding texts.
However, as I stood up to leave my spot
I noticed Sadie was exiting at this stop.
And as she stood, and we met eyes
I said, "After you," to her surprise,
Cause though I talk, (since I have a mouth),
I most certainly have manners, I'm from the SOUTH!
So, Sadie on the train, wherever you may be,
I'll make sure to ride the talking train next time for the extra fee.
aformerblonde.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
from the land of no air conditioning and 40 degree temperature differences!
well hello my fellow blog followers.
i join you today from a land far far away. a place where the mornings are chilly and foggy and 50. and the days are sunny and 95 and non air conditioned. a mysterious land called...Palo Alto, California.
as i write you, i am stealing Internet from someone named "eeo". To eeo I am eternally grateful, for at this ivy league institution, the Internet connection process is equivalent to rocket science. and, speaking of rocket science, I know my first rocket scientist. He is relatively...well...ordinary. anyhow. my computer failed the "safety test" to access the internet. Stanford tells me there is no virus protection software, which is peculiar because as i stare at the screen, it is actually running a virus scan. very odd. anyhow, so i failed the computer test and cannot access the very VERY expensive ivy league wireless. I guess it's like way better than, say, McDonald's wireless, which is why it is so expensive. I'm glad I have found eeo. I hope we will be long time friends (at least 6 weeks).
also, as i write you, i have a fan blowing air on my face. it's rather annoying because my eyes are getting all dried out...but, if it wasn't, it would be stiflingly hot. today it was 94. they tell us that once a year there is a "hot spell" tomorrow it will also be 94 degrees. I hope that ends the hot spell. because there is not one air conditioning on this campus. like...none. well i take that back. the construction modulars have it. i am considering getting an evening job with them just so that i can have access to the air conditioner. only, the hilarious thing is...in the morning, i will freeze when i get out of bed. it will be 50 degrees outside. and that fan that is now annoying me will be pumping 50 degree air into my ear. the weather channel promises me 80 degrees this week. if they let me down, ill be writing a letter to the governor. basically because the governor is Arnold swarzenegger and i just think it would be cool to write him a letter as a resident of his fine state.
right, so, there are some advantages to my rather obscure new life. first of all, i have listened to a ton of really great music in lieu of the television I would usually watch, and I have read some really great chapters out of some really great books. i have also not had to be tortured with every last detail of Michael Jackson's life. I know my friends in the "real world" (a.k.a. the non-CTY world) are getting rather sick of hearing about it. See, we didn't even know he was dead here until a good...5 hours after he was dead. And our lack of contact with the outside world has left us filling our hours with things such as conversations as to what things we would put inside fortune cookies if it was our job to write the fortunes.
to that note, someone shared with me a profound thought. it was from a Buddhist. that very wise man said that we should treasure our lives like an empty bowl. If a bowl is filled, the bowl is useless..it can't be used for anything else, because it is too full of "things". However, if the bowl is empty, it is open and receptive to all possibilities. I was profoundly struck by this statement, convicted by how often we confuse having a life full of "things" as a "full life". ahhh, how well i now know this is not true. my life in absence of the things I am used to filling my life with has enabled me to have a "full" life in the last several days. i am so excited to empty my bowl and allow myself to be open to all the possibilities that this summer brings.
so, from my room, which has cooled to ... well ... maybe 70 degrees now....to your nicely air-conditioned homes where you read this from (well most of you at least) i will sign off by encouraging you to empty your bowls and open your life to the possibility of the day.
aformerblonde.
i join you today from a land far far away. a place where the mornings are chilly and foggy and 50. and the days are sunny and 95 and non air conditioned. a mysterious land called...Palo Alto, California.
as i write you, i am stealing Internet from someone named "eeo". To eeo I am eternally grateful, for at this ivy league institution, the Internet connection process is equivalent to rocket science. and, speaking of rocket science, I know my first rocket scientist. He is relatively...well...ordinary. anyhow. my computer failed the "safety test" to access the internet. Stanford tells me there is no virus protection software, which is peculiar because as i stare at the screen, it is actually running a virus scan. very odd. anyhow, so i failed the computer test and cannot access the very VERY expensive ivy league wireless. I guess it's like way better than, say, McDonald's wireless, which is why it is so expensive. I'm glad I have found eeo. I hope we will be long time friends (at least 6 weeks).
also, as i write you, i have a fan blowing air on my face. it's rather annoying because my eyes are getting all dried out...but, if it wasn't, it would be stiflingly hot. today it was 94. they tell us that once a year there is a "hot spell" tomorrow it will also be 94 degrees. I hope that ends the hot spell. because there is not one air conditioning on this campus. like...none. well i take that back. the construction modulars have it. i am considering getting an evening job with them just so that i can have access to the air conditioner. only, the hilarious thing is...in the morning, i will freeze when i get out of bed. it will be 50 degrees outside. and that fan that is now annoying me will be pumping 50 degree air into my ear. the weather channel promises me 80 degrees this week. if they let me down, ill be writing a letter to the governor. basically because the governor is Arnold swarzenegger and i just think it would be cool to write him a letter as a resident of his fine state.
right, so, there are some advantages to my rather obscure new life. first of all, i have listened to a ton of really great music in lieu of the television I would usually watch, and I have read some really great chapters out of some really great books. i have also not had to be tortured with every last detail of Michael Jackson's life. I know my friends in the "real world" (a.k.a. the non-CTY world) are getting rather sick of hearing about it. See, we didn't even know he was dead here until a good...5 hours after he was dead. And our lack of contact with the outside world has left us filling our hours with things such as conversations as to what things we would put inside fortune cookies if it was our job to write the fortunes.
to that note, someone shared with me a profound thought. it was from a Buddhist. that very wise man said that we should treasure our lives like an empty bowl. If a bowl is filled, the bowl is useless..it can't be used for anything else, because it is too full of "things". However, if the bowl is empty, it is open and receptive to all possibilities. I was profoundly struck by this statement, convicted by how often we confuse having a life full of "things" as a "full life". ahhh, how well i now know this is not true. my life in absence of the things I am used to filling my life with has enabled me to have a "full" life in the last several days. i am so excited to empty my bowl and allow myself to be open to all the possibilities that this summer brings.
so, from my room, which has cooled to ... well ... maybe 70 degrees now....to your nicely air-conditioned homes where you read this from (well most of you at least) i will sign off by encouraging you to empty your bowls and open your life to the possibility of the day.
aformerblonde.
Monday, June 15, 2009
awesome teaching, awesome people, awesome farmers tan
This weekend, I spent some time at Ichthus. For those of you who don't know, it is the Christian Music Festival out in Wilmore. I have been the last three years, and this year, the line up was weak, but I was very excited about the Afters, who are actually mainstream, and brilliant. Check them out (http://www.theafters.com). Anyhow, en route to listen to The Afters, first, we met some really great people, listened to some really great teaching...and I got a wicked farmers tan on my legs.
The woman we met, she sent her husband to get us homemade peanut butter fudge. I mean...really? And she chats with us and shares with us....she is from Ashland, and was incredible.
Then, there were two girls behind us, Anna and Annie...from Louisville. They were camping at the Ichthus Farm and were so filled with Joy. It turns out they had been following the blog of Tom Davis and had all sorts of great things to say about him. Not only that but they were super sweet, and we got to chat with them again at the Artists Tent while waiting to have our books signed by Tom. They are doing big things for God, and I think they are incredible.
Then...Tom Davis. This guy is a rock star. He is doing some amazing work in Africa for the orphans...We ran across him at his table...first we were talking to his sales people, but then he came over to talk to us about some of his experiences in Africa with the orphans...I'm not going to say I rarely think about this, but, it doesn't get the "mind time" it should. He shared with us how many people are dying due to Malaria, which is a completely preventable disease. $5 a day is enough to provide mosquito netting and malaria shots to the orphans he works with...Later, as he was talking in front of the large group, we watched a video....profiling two girls in Uganda. One was an orphan and raising her 4 other brothers and sisters. They live in a disease ridden shack...one that wouldn't be suitable for any life...they eat rotten food that people give them, because they have no other choice...the other girl it followed had lost her mother to AIDS and her father is dying of AIDS...he is also an alcoholic and does not work. During the day she is left to raise her brothers and sisters, and then their father comes home and forces the youngest daughter to sleep with him...she is now infected with HIV....
As we sat and processed this...it came back to me, this line from a documentary I watched earlier in the week. There was a Catholic priest who was being questioned about how he could let trans-gendered people participate in church activities. His answer has stuck with me: "It is not our position to judge. Sometimes we, as Christians, get so caught up in who is right and who is wrong that we forget our most important job as a Christian--to Love. To love regardless, in spite of, even though." If this is true, how can we just turn "a blind eye" at what is happening in Africa? How could we not do something? And that doesn't just go for the orphans, malaria, AIDS/HIV...it goes for things that happen right here...children are sold into child slavery and prostitution right here in the United States...(by the way, they are the same orphans that we were just talking about a minute ago). It's haunting...what is happening...but, I don't feel saddened by it...rather, I wonder...how can I help? Where can I help? Who can I help? How can WE help? Where can WE help? Who can WE help?
I bought Tom Davis' book "Red Letters". It talks about what would happen if we all lived in the "red letters". You know...like from those bibles that have the words straight from Christ highlighted in red? I am reading this and I am inspired...to live more in the red and less in the black...to DO something where I can...for orphans, for the hungry, to end senseless malaria deaths...
But for now...if you want some extra information:
Children's Hope Chest
5 for Fifty
Tom Davis Blog
Red Letters Campaign
I hope you will take a look at these sites...I don't pretend to live in a utopia where this can all easily be wrapped up and all these wrongs eradicated. But I do live in a world with incredible people who can make a difference...and I'm going to start being one of them. And to think, the only cost was a farmers tan.
aformerblonde.
The woman we met, she sent her husband to get us homemade peanut butter fudge. I mean...really? And she chats with us and shares with us....she is from Ashland, and was incredible.
Then, there were two girls behind us, Anna and Annie...from Louisville. They were camping at the Ichthus Farm and were so filled with Joy. It turns out they had been following the blog of Tom Davis and had all sorts of great things to say about him. Not only that but they were super sweet, and we got to chat with them again at the Artists Tent while waiting to have our books signed by Tom. They are doing big things for God, and I think they are incredible.
Then...Tom Davis. This guy is a rock star. He is doing some amazing work in Africa for the orphans...We ran across him at his table...first we were talking to his sales people, but then he came over to talk to us about some of his experiences in Africa with the orphans...I'm not going to say I rarely think about this, but, it doesn't get the "mind time" it should. He shared with us how many people are dying due to Malaria, which is a completely preventable disease. $5 a day is enough to provide mosquito netting and malaria shots to the orphans he works with...Later, as he was talking in front of the large group, we watched a video....profiling two girls in Uganda. One was an orphan and raising her 4 other brothers and sisters. They live in a disease ridden shack...one that wouldn't be suitable for any life...they eat rotten food that people give them, because they have no other choice...the other girl it followed had lost her mother to AIDS and her father is dying of AIDS...he is also an alcoholic and does not work. During the day she is left to raise her brothers and sisters, and then their father comes home and forces the youngest daughter to sleep with him...she is now infected with HIV....
As we sat and processed this...it came back to me, this line from a documentary I watched earlier in the week. There was a Catholic priest who was being questioned about how he could let trans-gendered people participate in church activities. His answer has stuck with me: "It is not our position to judge. Sometimes we, as Christians, get so caught up in who is right and who is wrong that we forget our most important job as a Christian--to Love. To love regardless, in spite of, even though." If this is true, how can we just turn "a blind eye" at what is happening in Africa? How could we not do something? And that doesn't just go for the orphans, malaria, AIDS/HIV...it goes for things that happen right here...children are sold into child slavery and prostitution right here in the United States...(by the way, they are the same orphans that we were just talking about a minute ago). It's haunting...what is happening...but, I don't feel saddened by it...rather, I wonder...how can I help? Where can I help? Who can I help? How can WE help? Where can WE help? Who can WE help?
I bought Tom Davis' book "Red Letters". It talks about what would happen if we all lived in the "red letters". You know...like from those bibles that have the words straight from Christ highlighted in red? I am reading this and I am inspired...to live more in the red and less in the black...to DO something where I can...for orphans, for the hungry, to end senseless malaria deaths...
But for now...if you want some extra information:
Children's Hope Chest
5 for Fifty
Tom Davis Blog
Red Letters Campaign
I hope you will take a look at these sites...I don't pretend to live in a utopia where this can all easily be wrapped up and all these wrongs eradicated. But I do live in a world with incredible people who can make a difference...and I'm going to start being one of them. And to think, the only cost was a farmers tan.
aformerblonde.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Sweet Summertime, or, For the Love of cheese.
Today is the first unofficially official day of summer. Schools out, though I still have one more day of PD. So, in honor of summer, i sit on my deck, with Pandora (http://www.pandora.com) blaring on the computer, the pond waterfall trickling in the yard and a clear view of the pool. I would get in the pool, however, I have a feeling my computer would not appreciate the splashing of water. (Are there waterproof laptops?)
This summer, I'm going on an adventure. And I just realized about 5 seconds ago that I'm terrified. I'm heading out to Palo Alto, CA to teach some super smart kids for 6 weeks. It sounds exciting...and I AM excited, but even as I write this, I'm scared. Which leads me to have a therapeutic conversation with myself about my fear:
ME: What are you afraid of?
MYSELF: It's a long way from home, I don't know anyone, the kids are really smart, and the bed might not be comfortable.
ME: You have to be kidding?! You lived in the middle of the ocean for a year. And then you lived on the ocean for 3 more years. Why in the world would you be scared to go to California for 6 weeks? And, get a mattress pad.
MYSELF: Yeah, I know that. I'm not really a homebody, but what if it sucks? And what if my dogs forget about me? And my friends? Is it possible that I'll leave for 6 weeks and when I come back, everything, and everyone will have changed and moved on and I won't have moved on with them?
ME: It's 6 weeks Nicole, get a grip.
MYSELF: Right, its not that long.
ME: Exactly.
MYSELF: Then why am I freaking out?
ME: It's like that book, who moved my cheese, the mouse was really aggravated when his cheese was gone. Maybe there would be no more cheese for him. Maybe he would never find the placement of the new cheese. This are all ridiculous concerns. There is more cheese. And if you keep looking for it and pay attention to where you have looked and not found cheese, you will find the cheese finally.
MYSELF: You lost me with cheese.
ME: I figured I had. Change can be scary, but the things we worry about are usually things that never happen.
MYSELF: I know you are right.
ME: I always am.
MYSELF: Cocky.
I guess the moral of the story is, we can't live without cheese. Wait, no it isn't. The moral is something new can be scary, but should not be feared. Instead, put the fear on the shelf and move forward. When the plane takes me away, it will bring me back. (I mean as long as I didn't accidentally plan a one-way trip, but I'm not talking about that in this case, so we won't really discuss the logistics of that.) I leave on June 25th, the plane will bring me back August 8th. Of that I can be certain. The six weeks in between are up to me to fill with all the experiences I can wrap my arms around.
As I take a sniff of the mulch my mom just spread around my trees, I am thankful that it doesn't smell like manure, and I'm thankful that I have a place to come back to you at the end of the 6 weeks So I take a deep breath and settle my soul, and my nerves. God has brought me here and He will provide for me from here.
I'll be looking forward to finding my cheese when I get to California. And it better be some good cheese. I'm counting on it.
aformerblonde.
This summer, I'm going on an adventure. And I just realized about 5 seconds ago that I'm terrified. I'm heading out to Palo Alto, CA to teach some super smart kids for 6 weeks. It sounds exciting...and I AM excited, but even as I write this, I'm scared. Which leads me to have a therapeutic conversation with myself about my fear:
ME: What are you afraid of?
MYSELF: It's a long way from home, I don't know anyone, the kids are really smart, and the bed might not be comfortable.
ME: You have to be kidding?! You lived in the middle of the ocean for a year. And then you lived on the ocean for 3 more years. Why in the world would you be scared to go to California for 6 weeks? And, get a mattress pad.
MYSELF: Yeah, I know that. I'm not really a homebody, but what if it sucks? And what if my dogs forget about me? And my friends? Is it possible that I'll leave for 6 weeks and when I come back, everything, and everyone will have changed and moved on and I won't have moved on with them?
ME: It's 6 weeks Nicole, get a grip.
MYSELF: Right, its not that long.
ME: Exactly.
MYSELF: Then why am I freaking out?
ME: It's like that book, who moved my cheese, the mouse was really aggravated when his cheese was gone. Maybe there would be no more cheese for him. Maybe he would never find the placement of the new cheese. This are all ridiculous concerns. There is more cheese. And if you keep looking for it and pay attention to where you have looked and not found cheese, you will find the cheese finally.
MYSELF: You lost me with cheese.
ME: I figured I had. Change can be scary, but the things we worry about are usually things that never happen.
MYSELF: I know you are right.
ME: I always am.
MYSELF: Cocky.
I guess the moral of the story is, we can't live without cheese. Wait, no it isn't. The moral is something new can be scary, but should not be feared. Instead, put the fear on the shelf and move forward. When the plane takes me away, it will bring me back. (I mean as long as I didn't accidentally plan a one-way trip, but I'm not talking about that in this case, so we won't really discuss the logistics of that.) I leave on June 25th, the plane will bring me back August 8th. Of that I can be certain. The six weeks in between are up to me to fill with all the experiences I can wrap my arms around.
As I take a sniff of the mulch my mom just spread around my trees, I am thankful that it doesn't smell like manure, and I'm thankful that I have a place to come back to you at the end of the 6 weeks So I take a deep breath and settle my soul, and my nerves. God has brought me here and He will provide for me from here.
I'll be looking forward to finding my cheese when I get to California. And it better be some good cheese. I'm counting on it.
aformerblonde.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
30 and 2 days...or...my life would suck without you.
Today I am thirty + 2 days old. Thirty came in with a wonderful bang, and turns out, I feel no different than 29 as far as my body goes...the only thing that is changed is what I have realized in the 2 days since the big 3-0. Actually, we will say last 4 days, cause my party was Friday and it was after that in which i had these realizations.
my life would suck without you. yes, it is the name of a kelly clarkson song which i actually really like to scream at the top of my lungs when i am in the car...but more importantly, it is how i feel about the amazing people in my life.
it has been said that when one door closes, another opens. i feel that up til this point, doors have been closing and, afraid i may not see another door open, i just jump right into the first one i see. last year, a door closed at me when i was working at my last school. i must say that in the moment, i was devastated. i wondered what would be out there, if anything for me. i wondered if i was doing what i was meant to do...or if maybe i had jumped into teaching without thinking it through...
then open the door at St. Leo. i looked long and hard at the door. i took it even though i was taking a pay cut, even though i would have a 30 minute commute, even though i knew nothing about Versailles. i walked through the door not knowing what to expect. or, maybe even expecting the worst and hoping for the best. because of this one open door, my life has changed drastically and i find myself realizing, probably for the first time, this is where i was always meant to be. the door had to close there to bring me here.
Because of St. Leo, i was challenged to a game of corn hole with Djibouti as my partner, and Mr. Djibouti as my competitor. Only to lose a last minute heart breaker and have to be a "bartender." Helena, the cause of most of my daily laughs, and if not the cause, the person I laugh with or who laughs at me...she has got to be the best work partner one could ever have. Truly, I couldn't have gotten any luckier to have to work in close contact with anyone else. I think there is no one else who could understand my ridiculous 7 year old humor, or put up with it the way she does. And her husband, who laughs at me equally...and with whom I share my addiction to WebMD, are two of the most amazing people I know
Because of St. Leo, I met Ashley and Christina, who are the answer to so many prayers I have prayed for really awesome, authentic new girlfriends here. I got to start the Y Club, without which I would not know these two incredible girls. I'm not sure that we share a tremendous amount in common, but what I am sure about is that they are two people I can't imagine my life without now. i look forward to a long friendship with these two incredibly amazing ladies.
Because of St. Leo, i will be going to work for John Hopkins University at the Center for Talented Youth in Palo Alto, CA this summer (all of my recommendations, and my interview prep courtesy of teachers there). I find this to be a truly remarkable opportunity that I still can't get over the fact i am going to have. i may be way out of my league here, but we are about to find out.
Because of St. Leo I am no longer Ms. Blandford, I am Blan Blan...I have a poem written in my honor, i have a pink polka dotted podium, and a specially designed cootie catcher created for me all by my students. At St. Leo I'm not just "the computer teacher." i am someone important and significant to both faculty and students. i get to take kids to KYA and KUNA and have pranks and inside jokes with them....there are guinea pigs named after things like Djibouti...
And even more so, as I was taking in the experience that was my big 3-0, I looked around at the way the old and new meshed together. How the two worlds overlap. How new friends and old friends could come together in one place....how the door opened and one world was not left behind, rather a new one was created with the best of the old and the things and people from the new. I laughed many laughs on Friday...and they were the good kind. the kind of laugh that comes from deep inside your stomach and sort of hurts (could be the bourbon slush) when it comes out...it's a laugh i haven't laughed in a long time.
The lyrics are true:
'Cause we belong together now, yeah
Forever united here somehow, yeahmy life would suck without you. yes, it is the name of a kelly clarkson song which i actually really like to scream at the top of my lungs when i am in the car...but more importantly, it is how i feel about the amazing people in my life.
it has been said that when one door closes, another opens. i feel that up til this point, doors have been closing and, afraid i may not see another door open, i just jump right into the first one i see. last year, a door closed at me when i was working at my last school. i must say that in the moment, i was devastated. i wondered what would be out there, if anything for me. i wondered if i was doing what i was meant to do...or if maybe i had jumped into teaching without thinking it through...
then open the door at St. Leo. i looked long and hard at the door. i took it even though i was taking a pay cut, even though i would have a 30 minute commute, even though i knew nothing about Versailles. i walked through the door not knowing what to expect. or, maybe even expecting the worst and hoping for the best. because of this one open door, my life has changed drastically and i find myself realizing, probably for the first time, this is where i was always meant to be. the door had to close there to bring me here.
Because of St. Leo, i was challenged to a game of corn hole with Djibouti as my partner, and Mr. Djibouti as my competitor. Only to lose a last minute heart breaker and have to be a "bartender." Helena, the cause of most of my daily laughs, and if not the cause, the person I laugh with or who laughs at me...she has got to be the best work partner one could ever have. Truly, I couldn't have gotten any luckier to have to work in close contact with anyone else. I think there is no one else who could understand my ridiculous 7 year old humor, or put up with it the way she does. And her husband, who laughs at me equally...and with whom I share my addiction to WebMD, are two of the most amazing people I know
Because of St. Leo, I met Ashley and Christina, who are the answer to so many prayers I have prayed for really awesome, authentic new girlfriends here. I got to start the Y Club, without which I would not know these two incredible girls. I'm not sure that we share a tremendous amount in common, but what I am sure about is that they are two people I can't imagine my life without now. i look forward to a long friendship with these two incredibly amazing ladies.
Because of St. Leo, i will be going to work for John Hopkins University at the Center for Talented Youth in Palo Alto, CA this summer (all of my recommendations, and my interview prep courtesy of teachers there). I find this to be a truly remarkable opportunity that I still can't get over the fact i am going to have. i may be way out of my league here, but we are about to find out.
Because of St. Leo I am no longer Ms. Blandford, I am Blan Blan...I have a poem written in my honor, i have a pink polka dotted podium, and a specially designed cootie catcher created for me all by my students. At St. Leo I'm not just "the computer teacher." i am someone important and significant to both faculty and students. i get to take kids to KYA and KUNA and have pranks and inside jokes with them....there are guinea pigs named after things like Djibouti...
And even more so, as I was taking in the experience that was my big 3-0, I looked around at the way the old and new meshed together. How the two worlds overlap. How new friends and old friends could come together in one place....how the door opened and one world was not left behind, rather a new one was created with the best of the old and the things and people from the new. I laughed many laughs on Friday...and they were the good kind. the kind of laugh that comes from deep inside your stomach and sort of hurts (could be the bourbon slush) when it comes out...it's a laugh i haven't laughed in a long time.
The lyrics are true:
'Cause we belong together now, yeah
You got a piece of me
And honestly,
My life would suck without you.
I think its my mantra for 3-0.
I think it is something I have been going through a lot of doors to figure out.
I think I have finally chosen the right open door.
And it only took me 30 years + 2 days.
finally.
aformerblonde.
And honestly,
My life would suck without you.
I think its my mantra for 3-0.
I think it is something I have been going through a lot of doors to figure out.
I think I have finally chosen the right open door.
And it only took me 30 years + 2 days.
finally.
aformerblonde.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
things this blog could have been about if i could have only decided on a topic.
so i have been debating for so long about what to blog about, it has been over a week since my last blog. which is pretty preposterous if you ask me. but i really couldn't come up with anything good. now, i find myself with 15 minutes and i am going to speed blog something, yet i'm not sure, yet, what it will be about.
i could write about this "phantom" who keeps leaving my three birthday presents on my front porch every day starting on friday. They are almost all pink or contain the letter n. it could be my mom, but if it is, she has help. anyhow, it makes going home at the end of the day sort of exciting and fun.
i could write about the fact that my wonderfully planned birthday party has turned into a last minute cookout that cannot be attended by everyone i wish could come. i hate having a birthday on memorial day. it should work well because people are off work and things, but, it seems to not have worked out that well for me this year.
i could write about how my favorite store, elegant fashion, went out of business, causing me to need therapy, and a new place to buy "knock off" merchandise. and how that spot on southland drive is always going to taunt me.
i could write about how ready i am for school to be over, and how empty it feels now that the 8th grade is gone. i feel like my day is so disorganized because i dont have them coming in, screaming, causing chaos and making a mess of things. its so boring.
i could write about how john wall is now a kentucky wildcat and how i am already having dreams of an 8th national championship and how i am already trying to figure out how to get tickets to midnight madness next year, and whether i will take days off work to try to "camp" out for the tickets, or whether coach cal will find some crazy new way to hand them out....like he could drop them from the sky in an airplane...that would be awesome. and people would just stop their cars like money was falling from the sky.
i could write about how because ashley mistyped star wars, and instead typed star wards, we now have the idea for an incredible new movie.
and, i could write about how i have a stack of papers i need to take to the copier to hand out to the kids going to kya next year, but how the long walk to the copy machine seems, well, like it requires too much energy at this point, so ill just wait for tomorrow.
or, i could talk about my beautiful pink polka dot podium. it really is beautiful and i think that everyone is coveting the beauty of it. there are festive dots, hand prints, and really, it just suits me. and i think it is hilarious that the kids did it on their own...picked out the colors even. i am so completely transparent.
but, since i spent so much time thinking of all the things i could write about, i actually have wasted the entire 15 minutes, so, i guess this blog will now be titled, "things this blog could have been about if i could have only decided on a topic." yes. that has a nice ring to it.
next time, ill decide on a topic before i come here.
aformerblonde.
i could write about this "phantom" who keeps leaving my three birthday presents on my front porch every day starting on friday. They are almost all pink or contain the letter n. it could be my mom, but if it is, she has help. anyhow, it makes going home at the end of the day sort of exciting and fun.
i could write about the fact that my wonderfully planned birthday party has turned into a last minute cookout that cannot be attended by everyone i wish could come. i hate having a birthday on memorial day. it should work well because people are off work and things, but, it seems to not have worked out that well for me this year.
i could write about how my favorite store, elegant fashion, went out of business, causing me to need therapy, and a new place to buy "knock off" merchandise. and how that spot on southland drive is always going to taunt me.
i could write about how ready i am for school to be over, and how empty it feels now that the 8th grade is gone. i feel like my day is so disorganized because i dont have them coming in, screaming, causing chaos and making a mess of things. its so boring.
i could write about how john wall is now a kentucky wildcat and how i am already having dreams of an 8th national championship and how i am already trying to figure out how to get tickets to midnight madness next year, and whether i will take days off work to try to "camp" out for the tickets, or whether coach cal will find some crazy new way to hand them out....like he could drop them from the sky in an airplane...that would be awesome. and people would just stop their cars like money was falling from the sky.
i could write about how because ashley mistyped star wars, and instead typed star wards, we now have the idea for an incredible new movie.
and, i could write about how i have a stack of papers i need to take to the copier to hand out to the kids going to kya next year, but how the long walk to the copy machine seems, well, like it requires too much energy at this point, so ill just wait for tomorrow.
or, i could talk about my beautiful pink polka dot podium. it really is beautiful and i think that everyone is coveting the beauty of it. there are festive dots, hand prints, and really, it just suits me. and i think it is hilarious that the kids did it on their own...picked out the colors even. i am so completely transparent.
but, since i spent so much time thinking of all the things i could write about, i actually have wasted the entire 15 minutes, so, i guess this blog will now be titled, "things this blog could have been about if i could have only decided on a topic." yes. that has a nice ring to it.
next time, ill decide on a topic before i come here.
aformerblonde.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
and now for my opinion on...American Idol
I've been watching American Idol religiously since it began, and every year, minus Kelly Clarkson, Carrie Underwood and David Cook, I have been disappointed. I'm not sure if I just like tormenting myself, but I keep tuning in...one part out of not wanting to feel behind in pop culture, one part because I don't usually have anything else going on in that Tuesday night spot, and one part because I secretly love to see people who were working at Sonic become super famous icons. I especially love that episode when they get to go back to their hometown, and all these people that could have probably cared less about 6 months ago, are now screaming, yelling, begging for autographs and trying to get a piece of the action. But there is something important in that statement. We all want something to believe in don't we? To think that someone from our little piece of the world could rise above circumstance or situation and arrive in Hollywood, become a person that 41 million votes are cast for (far more than ANY presidential election) and could have a chance to realize their dream. There is something inherently romantic, and fairy-taleish about this. In a time where there is little hope in so many facets of life, some people are having the opportunity of their life time...
Also, there is the entertainment factor of Paula Abdul alone. Really, does anyone know what is wrong with her? Her outfits are trashy and show way too much cleavage, her hair typically resembles a birds nest, and her comments? I feel like I need a translator to understand what the HELL she is talking about. Her analogies are horrific. Her voice is grinding. She is an absolute train wreck. And my gosh I LOVE IT!
So, I've avoided being clear about my favorite because, well, I usually get really attached to a contestant and then they get voted off and I feel ROBBED, like when Chris Daughtry was ripped from my life that one Wednesday result day. But this year, there are two people that I absolutely love. Allison and Adam. I'll call them the A-Team, because I just thought of it, and it works.
Don't get me wrong. I like Danny. He has America's "sympathy" vote. He doesn't need it because he can hold his own vocally, but he has that tragedy thing going for him. In the beginning, he was my favorite. I wanted him to win. But, as time has gone by, I've become a little bored...it always seems like more of the same, and I think that I let my emotional attachment to the fact that he lost his wife cloud my ability to decipher his true skill. He is talented, but he isn't the most talented out there. His songs don't make me want to dance, cry, hide, or scream. And that is just the problem, they don't make me feel anything.
And Kris. Kris is on and off for me...sort of like most relationships I've had. Sometimes I love his songs, and sometimes, I can't stand them. I like him with his guitar, and then I don't like him with his guitar. He's cute as a button but that's all, after all these weeks, that I really have to say about him. Nothing else comes to mind. And that's the problem for me with him.
Now on to the A Team, Adam and Allison. I'm not going to lie. When Adam came out and sang "I Walk the Line" with cuitars playing in the back, I felt like I had been molested by Gothic Egyptians. I was frightened. It was so provocative, so scary, so...mesmerizing. That was the moment I drank the Adam Kool-Aid. I don't care how much eye liner he wears, or how many pictures he puts online of himself making out with other guys, I LOVE Adam. There is no one in the competition who can touch him vocally. As a woman, I can't even hit some of the notes Adam hits. So what if he is eccentric...and scary...and confusing...and strange. So what if I feel a little violated when he is done. Adam is off the hook talented, and my Tuesday nights are going to be BORING when this is done because of him. I know some people don't like him because of the above aforementioned reasons. Whatever your hang up is, you can't deny his raw talent, even if he doesn't use it in a way that pleases you.
And last, but not least, Allison. I have loved this girl since the first time she opened her mouth. She sounds like a 50 year old smoker, with her raspy voice. Yet, she is in the body of a 17 year old, wise beyond her year, super edgy rocker body. I think I tune in just for her hair color, and I wish that a. I didn't work at a Catholic school so I could have hair that color and b. who am I joking I don't have nearly enough courage to dye my hair that color! Let's see, at 16/17 I was awkward, self-absorbed, and google-eyeing the cute boys at my school. And at 16/17 Allison walks out on stage and blows my mind EVERY SINGLE WEEK. And then, Simon has to open his big mouth and say something like, you aren't cocky enough, you aren't quite as full of yourself as we would like. Waaaittt, WHAA?? Wait, are you telling a 16 year old girl to be full of herself? Oh dear heavens, that is everything that is wrong with this world. Why can she not be a really awesome, kick-ass, HUMBLE girl?
But alas, Allison has been in the bottom three countless times, Adam was there last week. Danny has never been there and Kris is there and then not there, there and then not there (which supports my earlier claim). And so now, I have set myself up for yet another crushing heartbreak provided to me by America. I won't tune in until its half over so I can skip the ridiculous amount of commercials...and I'll fast forward through the Ford Commercial (which is always lame), the group number (which is always lame), Ryan Seacrest's jokes (which are always lame) and go right to where someone goes home. And if it is Allison or Adam, I hope someone who reads this will save me from my anger and rage at being robbed yet again, bring me a margarita (we should celebrate Cinco de Mayo all month) and remind me to tune in again next year.
aformerblonde.
Also, there is the entertainment factor of Paula Abdul alone. Really, does anyone know what is wrong with her? Her outfits are trashy and show way too much cleavage, her hair typically resembles a birds nest, and her comments? I feel like I need a translator to understand what the HELL she is talking about. Her analogies are horrific. Her voice is grinding. She is an absolute train wreck. And my gosh I LOVE IT!
So, I've avoided being clear about my favorite because, well, I usually get really attached to a contestant and then they get voted off and I feel ROBBED, like when Chris Daughtry was ripped from my life that one Wednesday result day. But this year, there are two people that I absolutely love. Allison and Adam. I'll call them the A-Team, because I just thought of it, and it works.
Don't get me wrong. I like Danny. He has America's "sympathy" vote. He doesn't need it because he can hold his own vocally, but he has that tragedy thing going for him. In the beginning, he was my favorite. I wanted him to win. But, as time has gone by, I've become a little bored...it always seems like more of the same, and I think that I let my emotional attachment to the fact that he lost his wife cloud my ability to decipher his true skill. He is talented, but he isn't the most talented out there. His songs don't make me want to dance, cry, hide, or scream. And that is just the problem, they don't make me feel anything.
And Kris. Kris is on and off for me...sort of like most relationships I've had. Sometimes I love his songs, and sometimes, I can't stand them. I like him with his guitar, and then I don't like him with his guitar. He's cute as a button but that's all, after all these weeks, that I really have to say about him. Nothing else comes to mind. And that's the problem for me with him.
Now on to the A Team, Adam and Allison. I'm not going to lie. When Adam came out and sang "I Walk the Line" with cuitars playing in the back, I felt like I had been molested by Gothic Egyptians. I was frightened. It was so provocative, so scary, so...mesmerizing. That was the moment I drank the Adam Kool-Aid. I don't care how much eye liner he wears, or how many pictures he puts online of himself making out with other guys, I LOVE Adam. There is no one in the competition who can touch him vocally. As a woman, I can't even hit some of the notes Adam hits. So what if he is eccentric...and scary...and confusing...and strange. So what if I feel a little violated when he is done. Adam is off the hook talented, and my Tuesday nights are going to be BORING when this is done because of him. I know some people don't like him because of the above aforementioned reasons. Whatever your hang up is, you can't deny his raw talent, even if he doesn't use it in a way that pleases you.
And last, but not least, Allison. I have loved this girl since the first time she opened her mouth. She sounds like a 50 year old smoker, with her raspy voice. Yet, she is in the body of a 17 year old, wise beyond her year, super edgy rocker body. I think I tune in just for her hair color, and I wish that a. I didn't work at a Catholic school so I could have hair that color and b. who am I joking I don't have nearly enough courage to dye my hair that color! Let's see, at 16/17 I was awkward, self-absorbed, and google-eyeing the cute boys at my school. And at 16/17 Allison walks out on stage and blows my mind EVERY SINGLE WEEK. And then, Simon has to open his big mouth and say something like, you aren't cocky enough, you aren't quite as full of yourself as we would like. Waaaittt, WHAA?? Wait, are you telling a 16 year old girl to be full of herself? Oh dear heavens, that is everything that is wrong with this world. Why can she not be a really awesome, kick-ass, HUMBLE girl?
But alas, Allison has been in the bottom three countless times, Adam was there last week. Danny has never been there and Kris is there and then not there, there and then not there (which supports my earlier claim). And so now, I have set myself up for yet another crushing heartbreak provided to me by America. I won't tune in until its half over so I can skip the ridiculous amount of commercials...and I'll fast forward through the Ford Commercial (which is always lame), the group number (which is always lame), Ryan Seacrest's jokes (which are always lame) and go right to where someone goes home. And if it is Allison or Adam, I hope someone who reads this will save me from my anger and rage at being robbed yet again, bring me a margarita (we should celebrate Cinco de Mayo all month) and remind me to tune in again next year.
aformerblonde.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Hey Hey it's May
Today, when I asked my students the day, they said, May4th. I almost stopped breathing out of pure terror. MAY? First of all, last time I blinked it was September, and I had an entire year to accomplish all the things I needed to do. How is it that in that minuscule blink that I took, time somehow disintegrated and now it is MAY?
Don't get me wrong. I love May. It's not too hot, not too cold, not too sunny, not too rainy. The flowers are in full bloom, yadda yadda yadda. School ends...its summer vacation...time to get caught up on some sleep!
However, there is also the perpetual lawn mowing. By the time you have finished, the back grass needs to be cut again. And then, there is all this SNEEZING and eyes itching. It's incessant. And then, ladies and gentlemen, there is the small matter of my birthday. Typically I love my birthday. I usually hang and do fun stuff with friends...enjoy and celebrate. But this year I turn....THIRTY.
I'm not saying I'm over the hill, so save your rants. What I'm saying is..is this what 30 looks like? I mean, by 30, I thought I would be a lot of things I'm not. Like...married...a mother...a rich millionaire. Okay, not really that last one, but it doesn't hurt to dream does it?? I think of what I used to think a 30 year old was. SOOO old. Graying hair. Basically, I used to think a 30 year old had taken close to their last breath and would keel over pretty soon. I'm none of the things I thought I would be, except, well, employed. Thank goodness, because in times such as these, that is nothing to take lightly. I thought I would live in NYC. It's where I really want to live, and a far cry from Lexington, KY. I am not, however, married (for no lack of trying), and on account of that one, I don't have any children, which is probably a good thing. I feel like, by the world's standards, I'm pretty far behind...
But, there are the things I am: I am a teacher, which is a job I absolutely love without a shadow of a doubt and I know I'm good at. I know there are all sorts of people at all sorts of ages that work in jobs they HATE for their entire lives. This, I can say, is not me. I am a homeowner of a house I'm REALLY proud of. I have, for the last 2.5 years remodeled this home into something I'm really proud of. I think I have an incredible decorating vision, and I love doing it. If I could only find that millionaire, I could do SO much more...but until then, I am content that my house is a warm and welcoming place. I am a mini-marathoner (boy, I JUST squeaked that one in under the deadline). This is something very few people do in their lives. In fact, besides the people from the gym, who are crazy in shape overachievers (no offense intended), I am the only person I know who ran a mini-marathon. Oh, well, Cathy Weaver did, but we ran the same race! This is something I'm proud of...in fact, I think I might call myself a "runner", because I have completed 7 races since July 2008. I think that is pretty dang great...especially considering a year ago, I couldn't run 13 feet, nonetheless, 13 MILES. And then I consider that I have found wonderful friends in my life. Some have come and gone, but the people I choose to surround myself with daily are incredible people, with incredible hearts, and amazing spirits. I know there are many people that do not have relationships like this in their lives, and so, I am grateful. I own two dogs I haven't killed, I have had an Orchid since February that continues to bloom, I got over my fear of dirt and worms to plant some flowers this spring. I am a great cook, and an even better baker. I can sell a wedding/prom dress with panache. I'm healthier than I have been in a LONG time. I have an incredible family. I have a wonderful God. And, most days, I am incredibly happy.
For whatever I thought my "30" would look like, I suppose this is how it was always meant to be. For whatever reason, I have the things I do have, and the others are not meant for me quite yet. However, when I look at the things I have, I think to myself, how incredibly blessed I would be to have even ONE of those things, nonetheless ALL of them. And I think, especially with times being as tough as they are, how quickly my situations could change. I think sometimes, I get so caught up in things that are, really, of no real importance. I DO want to get married, but I have lots of single friends who are 30. I do want children, but I hate changing diapers. But even besides all these things, why can we not learn to be content wherever we find ourselves. There is a book called, "Wherever you go, there you are!" How ridiculously simple this is, but how interesting that so few really get it. We are here, exactly where we are, for a reason. There are people here, there are situations here, there are lessons here that we need to embrace, that we need to learn. I look around more closely and wonder what is, exactly my lesson for this day? This week? This year? For year 29, my lesson was, "You are stronger than you ever imagined." It was a critical lesson, possibly the most important lesson I have ever learned.
So, I wait for you 30. I ask you what you have for me. I ask you what it is I will learn, how it is my life will change in the next 365 days. I ask for you to give me all it is you have in store for me. Don't hold back. And in return, I promise to be content, knowing I am EXACTLY where I was meant to be.
I guess May isn't so bad after all.
aformerblonde.
Don't get me wrong. I love May. It's not too hot, not too cold, not too sunny, not too rainy. The flowers are in full bloom, yadda yadda yadda. School ends...its summer vacation...time to get caught up on some sleep!
However, there is also the perpetual lawn mowing. By the time you have finished, the back grass needs to be cut again. And then, there is all this SNEEZING and eyes itching. It's incessant. And then, ladies and gentlemen, there is the small matter of my birthday. Typically I love my birthday. I usually hang and do fun stuff with friends...enjoy and celebrate. But this year I turn....THIRTY.
I'm not saying I'm over the hill, so save your rants. What I'm saying is..is this what 30 looks like? I mean, by 30, I thought I would be a lot of things I'm not. Like...married...a mother...a rich millionaire. Okay, not really that last one, but it doesn't hurt to dream does it?? I think of what I used to think a 30 year old was. SOOO old. Graying hair. Basically, I used to think a 30 year old had taken close to their last breath and would keel over pretty soon. I'm none of the things I thought I would be, except, well, employed. Thank goodness, because in times such as these, that is nothing to take lightly. I thought I would live in NYC. It's where I really want to live, and a far cry from Lexington, KY. I am not, however, married (for no lack of trying), and on account of that one, I don't have any children, which is probably a good thing. I feel like, by the world's standards, I'm pretty far behind...
But, there are the things I am: I am a teacher, which is a job I absolutely love without a shadow of a doubt and I know I'm good at. I know there are all sorts of people at all sorts of ages that work in jobs they HATE for their entire lives. This, I can say, is not me. I am a homeowner of a house I'm REALLY proud of. I have, for the last 2.5 years remodeled this home into something I'm really proud of. I think I have an incredible decorating vision, and I love doing it. If I could only find that millionaire, I could do SO much more...but until then, I am content that my house is a warm and welcoming place. I am a mini-marathoner (boy, I JUST squeaked that one in under the deadline). This is something very few people do in their lives. In fact, besides the people from the gym, who are crazy in shape overachievers (no offense intended), I am the only person I know who ran a mini-marathon. Oh, well, Cathy Weaver did, but we ran the same race! This is something I'm proud of...in fact, I think I might call myself a "runner", because I have completed 7 races since July 2008. I think that is pretty dang great...especially considering a year ago, I couldn't run 13 feet, nonetheless, 13 MILES. And then I consider that I have found wonderful friends in my life. Some have come and gone, but the people I choose to surround myself with daily are incredible people, with incredible hearts, and amazing spirits. I know there are many people that do not have relationships like this in their lives, and so, I am grateful. I own two dogs I haven't killed, I have had an Orchid since February that continues to bloom, I got over my fear of dirt and worms to plant some flowers this spring. I am a great cook, and an even better baker. I can sell a wedding/prom dress with panache. I'm healthier than I have been in a LONG time. I have an incredible family. I have a wonderful God. And, most days, I am incredibly happy.
For whatever I thought my "30" would look like, I suppose this is how it was always meant to be. For whatever reason, I have the things I do have, and the others are not meant for me quite yet. However, when I look at the things I have, I think to myself, how incredibly blessed I would be to have even ONE of those things, nonetheless ALL of them. And I think, especially with times being as tough as they are, how quickly my situations could change. I think sometimes, I get so caught up in things that are, really, of no real importance. I DO want to get married, but I have lots of single friends who are 30. I do want children, but I hate changing diapers. But even besides all these things, why can we not learn to be content wherever we find ourselves. There is a book called, "Wherever you go, there you are!" How ridiculously simple this is, but how interesting that so few really get it. We are here, exactly where we are, for a reason. There are people here, there are situations here, there are lessons here that we need to embrace, that we need to learn. I look around more closely and wonder what is, exactly my lesson for this day? This week? This year? For year 29, my lesson was, "You are stronger than you ever imagined." It was a critical lesson, possibly the most important lesson I have ever learned.
So, I wait for you 30. I ask you what you have for me. I ask you what it is I will learn, how it is my life will change in the next 365 days. I ask for you to give me all it is you have in store for me. Don't hold back. And in return, I promise to be content, knowing I am EXACTLY where I was meant to be.
I guess May isn't so bad after all.
aformerblonde.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
The state of my blisters...
There are three blisters on my feet. Two of them are on my left foot...one each side of my heel. The other is on the right foot...on the inside of my heel. They hurt unlike any blisters I have ever had. In fact, I still haven't drained all of the fluid out of them. Every time I drain them, another layer appears. I guess blisters that are formed over 13.1 miles take a while to drain...a while to heal.
The last time I blogged, I was for sure yesterday would be my demise. I was pretty sure there was no way I could move in a forward motion with my feet for 13.1 miles. I mean...13.1 miles is a really , REALLY long way. An almost unthinkable distance to cover by any other means but a vehicle.
Yesterday, when I crossed the finish line, after 3 hours, 36 minutes and 41 seconds of running, walking, pushing forward, I did die a certain death. A death of the thoughts of all the things I couldn't do, of all the things I wasn't capable of doing. As I crossed the line, those voices of doubt in my head closed their proverbial mouths. When I saw the finish line, after 13 miles of hills and pavement and mid-70 degree sun beating down on me, with my legs throbbing, my feet screaming for relief, I found the strength within myself to run, with every last bit of energy I had, across the electronic marker that would tell some computer that I had arrived. The marker that would tell the computer that out of 12,000 runners who started, I would be one of the 9,397 people who endured to cross the finish line.
When I crossed the line, I burst into tears. The medics ran over to me asking me if I was okay, if I needed help. I looked them in the eyes and told them I needed no medical help, rather my tears were those of joy, of disbelief, of pure pain for which they had no cure. I couldn't even feel my feet from the pounding they had taken on the concrete. I walked, no, hobbled over to a man who placed a finisher's medal around my neck, gave me a hug and told me congratulations for completing the 2009 Derby Mini-Marathon. I believe that moment will be the closest feeling I will ever have to getting an Olympic Medal. It is my cherished possession, the proof that will last long beyond my blisters that I FINISHED 13.1 miles on my own, and on my own two feet.
I cringe to admit this to my readers, but for the last mile, I was stuck on the Miley Cyrus song "The Climb." (I thank two unnamed friends for accompanying me to a place where I could learn this song.) However, there were parts that were screaming to me, almost loud enough to scream over the pain screaming from my body.
"There's a voice inside my head saying, you'll never reach it." Pretty much. After mile 8, I had no idea if I could make it. I wasn't sure my legs would cooperate. I am not sure I had the mental strength to make them walk another step, nonetheless 5 more miles.
"These are the moments that I'm gonna remember most." Ah, I liked this line. As we made our lap inside Churchill Downs, the wind was blowing at my back...urging me on a little further. The sun was shining, there wasn't a cloud in the sky, and the Twin Spires towered down in an amazingly beautiful way. There were people all along the way, they were clapping for friends, family, anyone who was running. Their cheers, oranges, Vaseline, and water were enough to keep me going, to keep me from quitting...
"Ain't about how fast I get there, ain't about what's waiting on the other side, it's the climb." This one was debatable to me. It definitely wasn't about how long it took me to finish, rather about finishing. And it wasn't until I crossed that finish line that I realized, besides the medal, there was nothing amazing and significant waiting for me there. Rather, the significant part of the day had happened. On every last inch of that road that stretched from Iroquois Park to Downtown Louisville. In that day, in that moment, my will power had been enough to push my body past the point of exhaustion, past the pain in every part of my body, and had carried me to finish something I never even dreamed of doing.
Today, my body is sore...but it is a good sore. It's a little uncomfortable...it's a little irritating, but it is a reminder of what, just yesterday, I was able to accomplish. I want to wear my medal around everywhere I go...but I have hung it on the refrigerator for now. Next to all the bib numbers from all the races I have completed this year. The bright yellow one marked "14121C" is the most important of all. It marks not only an accomplishment, but a journey of 12,000 runners of which only 9397 finished. A journey in which I could have quit because it was the hardest thing I have ever done. A journey which left me with 3 blisters. Three visible reminders of the day that was, after all, not my demise, but rather, a new beginning. After all, as I was reminded by a sign at the beginning of Mile 13, Philippians 4:13 - I can do everything through Him who gives me strength."
At mile 10, there was a woman in front of me. Her shirt kept me occupied for about 3 minutes. It said "I run because...I love not just the finish line, but the trip along the way. It makes me feel free. I've got energy to burn. It's my anti-depressant. Walking takes to long and I have things I need to get done. My personal best is just that: mine. It's a good kind of sore. It makes the pavement feel needed. There are a lot worse addictions out there. There is no better way to explore a city or enjoy the spring flowers or fall leaves. There is no drug like adrenaline. I'll never know how far I can go unless I try. The pavement doesn't complain when you pound it. It takes all I've got but gives back more. Others can't. I can."
aformerblonde.
The last time I blogged, I was for sure yesterday would be my demise. I was pretty sure there was no way I could move in a forward motion with my feet for 13.1 miles. I mean...13.1 miles is a really , REALLY long way. An almost unthinkable distance to cover by any other means but a vehicle.
Yesterday, when I crossed the finish line, after 3 hours, 36 minutes and 41 seconds of running, walking, pushing forward, I did die a certain death. A death of the thoughts of all the things I couldn't do, of all the things I wasn't capable of doing. As I crossed the line, those voices of doubt in my head closed their proverbial mouths. When I saw the finish line, after 13 miles of hills and pavement and mid-70 degree sun beating down on me, with my legs throbbing, my feet screaming for relief, I found the strength within myself to run, with every last bit of energy I had, across the electronic marker that would tell some computer that I had arrived. The marker that would tell the computer that out of 12,000 runners who started, I would be one of the 9,397 people who endured to cross the finish line.
When I crossed the line, I burst into tears. The medics ran over to me asking me if I was okay, if I needed help. I looked them in the eyes and told them I needed no medical help, rather my tears were those of joy, of disbelief, of pure pain for which they had no cure. I couldn't even feel my feet from the pounding they had taken on the concrete. I walked, no, hobbled over to a man who placed a finisher's medal around my neck, gave me a hug and told me congratulations for completing the 2009 Derby Mini-Marathon. I believe that moment will be the closest feeling I will ever have to getting an Olympic Medal. It is my cherished possession, the proof that will last long beyond my blisters that I FINISHED 13.1 miles on my own, and on my own two feet.
I cringe to admit this to my readers, but for the last mile, I was stuck on the Miley Cyrus song "The Climb." (I thank two unnamed friends for accompanying me to a place where I could learn this song.) However, there were parts that were screaming to me, almost loud enough to scream over the pain screaming from my body.
"There's a voice inside my head saying, you'll never reach it." Pretty much. After mile 8, I had no idea if I could make it. I wasn't sure my legs would cooperate. I am not sure I had the mental strength to make them walk another step, nonetheless 5 more miles.
"These are the moments that I'm gonna remember most." Ah, I liked this line. As we made our lap inside Churchill Downs, the wind was blowing at my back...urging me on a little further. The sun was shining, there wasn't a cloud in the sky, and the Twin Spires towered down in an amazingly beautiful way. There were people all along the way, they were clapping for friends, family, anyone who was running. Their cheers, oranges, Vaseline, and water were enough to keep me going, to keep me from quitting...
"Ain't about how fast I get there, ain't about what's waiting on the other side, it's the climb." This one was debatable to me. It definitely wasn't about how long it took me to finish, rather about finishing. And it wasn't until I crossed that finish line that I realized, besides the medal, there was nothing amazing and significant waiting for me there. Rather, the significant part of the day had happened. On every last inch of that road that stretched from Iroquois Park to Downtown Louisville. In that day, in that moment, my will power had been enough to push my body past the point of exhaustion, past the pain in every part of my body, and had carried me to finish something I never even dreamed of doing.
Today, my body is sore...but it is a good sore. It's a little uncomfortable...it's a little irritating, but it is a reminder of what, just yesterday, I was able to accomplish. I want to wear my medal around everywhere I go...but I have hung it on the refrigerator for now. Next to all the bib numbers from all the races I have completed this year. The bright yellow one marked "14121C" is the most important of all. It marks not only an accomplishment, but a journey of 12,000 runners of which only 9397 finished. A journey in which I could have quit because it was the hardest thing I have ever done. A journey which left me with 3 blisters. Three visible reminders of the day that was, after all, not my demise, but rather, a new beginning. After all, as I was reminded by a sign at the beginning of Mile 13, Philippians 4:13 - I can do everything through Him who gives me strength."
At mile 10, there was a woman in front of me. Her shirt kept me occupied for about 3 minutes. It said "I run because...I love not just the finish line, but the trip along the way. It makes me feel free. I've got energy to burn. It's my anti-depressant. Walking takes to long and I have things I need to get done. My personal best is just that: mine. It's a good kind of sore. It makes the pavement feel needed. There are a lot worse addictions out there. There is no better way to explore a city or enjoy the spring flowers or fall leaves. There is no drug like adrenaline. I'll never know how far I can go unless I try. The pavement doesn't complain when you pound it. It takes all I've got but gives back more. Others can't. I can."
aformerblonde.
Friday, April 24, 2009
The day before my likely demise...
So tomorrow I will do something that
a. I never thought I would do
b. I will probably hate myself for doing
c. I will not enjoy all but 1% of
d. Will likely be my demise.
I will complete the Kentucky Derby Mini-Marathon. 13.1 miles. I think that is how far it is from my house to work every day. Are you serious? Back on July 4th, with an additional amount of weight on my body, I finished a 6.2 mile race. I hated 6.1 miles of it. That last one-tenth of a mile was the greatest moment I had experienced in a long time. Crossing that finish line was an accomplishment that gave me enough adrenaline that I registered for, and completed, 5 more races in the past year.
The act of running terrifies me. I suck at breathing, though I have improved dramatically over the last year. I know how to relax my body and such, learned how to breathe more efficiently...however, I don't like running. It frustrates me cause I am slow. It frustrates me cause people who are older breeze by me like a race horse. What I love is, finishing.
I never knew I was an adrenaline junkie. However, my continued self-punishment is evident of this. However, my task ahead is daunting. 13.1 miles? wow. That's a really REALLY long way. My task is to finish. I don't even care how long it takes me. I want to cross the finish line before the race is over, and I want a finishers medal. I have something to prove to myself here. I want to prove to myself that I can do this. That I can do anything if I set my mind to it. That I'm stronger than I think. That whatever doesn't kill us makes us stronger. I want to prove to myself I could do something that, a year ago, I would have never dreamed about doing.
I've loaded my iPod up with running music. I've got my running pants packed, running shoes provided by John's Run/Walk, and socks especially for running. Let me not confuse anyone. I will not be setting any world records this weekend, I mean unless there is one for the slowest mini-marathon ever!) However, I will be setting a personal record that I never even thought I would have for myself. I can't wait to cross the finish line. I wish it would just come to me, because I know that the 13 miles that lead up to that one-tenth of a mile are going to be the worst 13 miles ever. But, for that 1/10th....for the chance to stride across the finish line and do something I never thought would be for me...to do something many people never do in their lives...it's worth it.
See you on the other side of the finish line.
aformerblonde.
a. I never thought I would do
b. I will probably hate myself for doing
c. I will not enjoy all but 1% of
d. Will likely be my demise.
I will complete the Kentucky Derby Mini-Marathon. 13.1 miles. I think that is how far it is from my house to work every day. Are you serious? Back on July 4th, with an additional amount of weight on my body, I finished a 6.2 mile race. I hated 6.1 miles of it. That last one-tenth of a mile was the greatest moment I had experienced in a long time. Crossing that finish line was an accomplishment that gave me enough adrenaline that I registered for, and completed, 5 more races in the past year.
The act of running terrifies me. I suck at breathing, though I have improved dramatically over the last year. I know how to relax my body and such, learned how to breathe more efficiently...however, I don't like running. It frustrates me cause I am slow. It frustrates me cause people who are older breeze by me like a race horse. What I love is, finishing.
I never knew I was an adrenaline junkie. However, my continued self-punishment is evident of this. However, my task ahead is daunting. 13.1 miles? wow. That's a really REALLY long way. My task is to finish. I don't even care how long it takes me. I want to cross the finish line before the race is over, and I want a finishers medal. I have something to prove to myself here. I want to prove to myself that I can do this. That I can do anything if I set my mind to it. That I'm stronger than I think. That whatever doesn't kill us makes us stronger. I want to prove to myself I could do something that, a year ago, I would have never dreamed about doing.
I've loaded my iPod up with running music. I've got my running pants packed, running shoes provided by John's Run/Walk, and socks especially for running. Let me not confuse anyone. I will not be setting any world records this weekend, I mean unless there is one for the slowest mini-marathon ever!) However, I will be setting a personal record that I never even thought I would have for myself. I can't wait to cross the finish line. I wish it would just come to me, because I know that the 13 miles that lead up to that one-tenth of a mile are going to be the worst 13 miles ever. But, for that 1/10th....for the chance to stride across the finish line and do something I never thought would be for me...to do something many people never do in their lives...it's worth it.
See you on the other side of the finish line.
aformerblonde.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
and they didn't know I was blonde.
I'm giving this blog thing a try. I feel like I'm sort of at this crossroads in my life, and I have just decided to take a hard right when, traditionally, I would have continued on straight ahead. So I figured, what better time to start a blog...my friends have been encouraging me to write down my stories forever...so, though this first entry will disappoint them terribly because it is not filled with my usual humor, it is where I feel I must start...
I recently took a trip to visit a "good" friend in California. Someone I had known for 6 years and turns out I didn't really know at all. I had a wonderful, yet expensive, vacation. There were some lessons I learned from this trip that I wanted to put down in writing so I could remember them.
First, it is always good to get away from where you nest. I never used to think about this because I lived so many different places and always had to find a way for myself. However, since coming back to Lexington, I think complacency has crept in and I find myself forgetting about the giant world that is out there away from Kentucky. I think I learned to appreciate other people more, other ways of life more. I think I learned a little bit about wonder and awe...about beauty. I certainly learned to never take for granted cost free parking...EVER.
I also learned that people change. I used to be a super non-confrontational, just let it go kind of person. In the last few months, I think that has changed, and I think that came into its fullness on this trip. It is not that I am less tolerant. In fact, I think I am more tolerant than ever before. However, I think that I am less willing to put up with people's BS. For example: If you haven't called me in months...don't invite me to your birthday party. If you can't make an effort to be my friends during the ordinary moments of your life, don't expect me to be there for the extraordinary ones...which leads me to...
Knowing when to cut the cord. For the last few weeks, I've been cutting cords left and right and getting rid of all the toxic people in my life. I have realized I simply can't fuel your toxicity any longer. If you are angry, go be angry, but I'm not going to argue, fight back, or defend it. If you feel the need to call, text, email or whatever it is you want to do to express your displeasure with my cutting your cord in my life, don't waste your time. Because I'm not going to waste mine. It's not that I don't care. It's actually that I do care. Only I care about surrounding myself, and my life, with people who don't drain me emotionally, physically and mentally. I have this one friend, in Florida, who I feel was separated from me at birth. We go months and months without seeing each other, yet as soon as we see each other, we are able to fill each other in really amazing ways. And what happens when you are able to feed each other, is you develop an incredible friendship that could stand up to any storm, no matter what that storm is, right Jackie?
The next thing I wanted to detox about is the concept of a gift. This has been something I have been talking about since I got back. What is a gift? Webster's has several definitions, with the first being:
something given voluntarily without payment in return, as to show favor toward someone, honor an occasion, or make a gesture of assistance; present
This is what I always thought. I love giving gifts but am terrible at keeping surprises. I can keep a secret to my grave, but I blow surprises like no body I know. One of the things I love about gifts, is doing something really awesome for someone that cheers them up...makes them feel happy for that moment...but what I love about this definition...the thing that I really think defines a gift from anything else, like a barter, a trade, etc, is that it is "given voluntarily without payment in return." Recently, I met some people who didn't understand the meaning of the gift. It was one of the greatest disappointments I have experienced lately. I was told that for the gift I received, I needed to supply a gift of their demand. Not the token of thanks I had already given them, rather a monetary gift. In fact, my lack of providing this "monetary gift" was then criticized. I found this to be absurd...not to mention presumptuous and rude. Never in my life have I been given a "gift" and then demanded to return that "gift." Is this what these desperate times have moved people to, or were you always like this and I never noticed? Thank you for your gift. You are welcome for yours. I am not at all sorry it wasn't the "gift" (demand) that you wanted. However, it was a gift I chose with great thought and care. I wont be forced to give gifts, or made to feel guilty about the gift I give. However, I cannot continue in a relationship where voluntary things are demanded of me. It's why I haven't returned your texts. It's why I haven't returned your calls or acknowledged your messages. It is my gift to you. The gift for you to move on and look for someone else who will meet your demands and lay down and roll over to your ridiculous expectations. I won't be that person any longer.
As I left California, I knew to myself it would likely be a long time before I returned (maybe sooner than I thought depending on this summer job). I found it fitting. In California I left many things. Expensive parking, ridiculous expectations, all my money, the tendency I had to let people manipulate my feelings. I almost missed my flight home. But I made sure to leave that day. I needed to come home. I realized some people will never fully appreciate you, and it isn't your job to make them appreciate you. Either they will or they won't. Second, it can be scary to cut that "cord". The one that has fed you for so long, but, sometimes, the cord stops feeding you and instead, it starts feeding off you. Sometimes you don't even notice that reverse of nutrient exchange. Until eventually you realize, you are starved...mentally, emotionally, spiritually. Instead, cut the cord and feed yourself for a while. Instead, find a friendship where you can feed each other. Which leads me to the end of what I have to say...as much as it is important to get away and be reminded of the giant world there is, it is also equally important to keep your eyes, mind and heart open wherever it is you call your home. I have made two of the most amazing new friends because I finally walked around with my eyes open. I am so blessed by their friendship...
and they didn't even know I used to be a blonde.
aformerblonde.
I recently took a trip to visit a "good" friend in California. Someone I had known for 6 years and turns out I didn't really know at all. I had a wonderful, yet expensive, vacation. There were some lessons I learned from this trip that I wanted to put down in writing so I could remember them.
First, it is always good to get away from where you nest. I never used to think about this because I lived so many different places and always had to find a way for myself. However, since coming back to Lexington, I think complacency has crept in and I find myself forgetting about the giant world that is out there away from Kentucky. I think I learned to appreciate other people more, other ways of life more. I think I learned a little bit about wonder and awe...about beauty. I certainly learned to never take for granted cost free parking...EVER.
I also learned that people change. I used to be a super non-confrontational, just let it go kind of person. In the last few months, I think that has changed, and I think that came into its fullness on this trip. It is not that I am less tolerant. In fact, I think I am more tolerant than ever before. However, I think that I am less willing to put up with people's BS. For example: If you haven't called me in months...don't invite me to your birthday party. If you can't make an effort to be my friends during the ordinary moments of your life, don't expect me to be there for the extraordinary ones...which leads me to...
Knowing when to cut the cord. For the last few weeks, I've been cutting cords left and right and getting rid of all the toxic people in my life. I have realized I simply can't fuel your toxicity any longer. If you are angry, go be angry, but I'm not going to argue, fight back, or defend it. If you feel the need to call, text, email or whatever it is you want to do to express your displeasure with my cutting your cord in my life, don't waste your time. Because I'm not going to waste mine. It's not that I don't care. It's actually that I do care. Only I care about surrounding myself, and my life, with people who don't drain me emotionally, physically and mentally. I have this one friend, in Florida, who I feel was separated from me at birth. We go months and months without seeing each other, yet as soon as we see each other, we are able to fill each other in really amazing ways. And what happens when you are able to feed each other, is you develop an incredible friendship that could stand up to any storm, no matter what that storm is, right Jackie?
The next thing I wanted to detox about is the concept of a gift. This has been something I have been talking about since I got back. What is a gift? Webster's has several definitions, with the first being:
something given voluntarily without payment in return, as to show favor toward someone, honor an occasion, or make a gesture of assistance; present
This is what I always thought. I love giving gifts but am terrible at keeping surprises. I can keep a secret to my grave, but I blow surprises like no body I know. One of the things I love about gifts, is doing something really awesome for someone that cheers them up...makes them feel happy for that moment...but what I love about this definition...the thing that I really think defines a gift from anything else, like a barter, a trade, etc, is that it is "given voluntarily without payment in return." Recently, I met some people who didn't understand the meaning of the gift. It was one of the greatest disappointments I have experienced lately. I was told that for the gift I received, I needed to supply a gift of their demand. Not the token of thanks I had already given them, rather a monetary gift. In fact, my lack of providing this "monetary gift" was then criticized. I found this to be absurd...not to mention presumptuous and rude. Never in my life have I been given a "gift" and then demanded to return that "gift." Is this what these desperate times have moved people to, or were you always like this and I never noticed? Thank you for your gift. You are welcome for yours. I am not at all sorry it wasn't the "gift" (demand) that you wanted. However, it was a gift I chose with great thought and care. I wont be forced to give gifts, or made to feel guilty about the gift I give. However, I cannot continue in a relationship where voluntary things are demanded of me. It's why I haven't returned your texts. It's why I haven't returned your calls or acknowledged your messages. It is my gift to you. The gift for you to move on and look for someone else who will meet your demands and lay down and roll over to your ridiculous expectations. I won't be that person any longer.
As I left California, I knew to myself it would likely be a long time before I returned (maybe sooner than I thought depending on this summer job). I found it fitting. In California I left many things. Expensive parking, ridiculous expectations, all my money, the tendency I had to let people manipulate my feelings. I almost missed my flight home. But I made sure to leave that day. I needed to come home. I realized some people will never fully appreciate you, and it isn't your job to make them appreciate you. Either they will or they won't. Second, it can be scary to cut that "cord". The one that has fed you for so long, but, sometimes, the cord stops feeding you and instead, it starts feeding off you. Sometimes you don't even notice that reverse of nutrient exchange. Until eventually you realize, you are starved...mentally, emotionally, spiritually. Instead, cut the cord and feed yourself for a while. Instead, find a friendship where you can feed each other. Which leads me to the end of what I have to say...as much as it is important to get away and be reminded of the giant world there is, it is also equally important to keep your eyes, mind and heart open wherever it is you call your home. I have made two of the most amazing new friends because I finally walked around with my eyes open. I am so blessed by their friendship...
and they didn't even know I used to be a blonde.
aformerblonde.
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