Bruises

I have lots of bruises. I'm not clumsy I just do things that have potential for injury. I run in the mountains, climb rocks, play on the monkey bars at the park down the street, ride my bike too fast down hills, move objects that are far beyond my strength level, listen to my Ipod when I run, read while I walk, talk on the phone when I'm doing just about everything, etc. I've been really fortunate to not suffer greater injury than I have. No broken bones, no major surgeries, no blood transfusions or organ transplants. I was a very cautious child, terrified of physical pain. As I've grown up, I've learned to take greater risks and rely on my body and my instincts to keep me safe. In my running career (short though it may be), I'm one of the few people I know who's sole physical set-back is a persistent blister on the arch of my right foot.

Regardless, I have bumps and bruises from head to toe. The most recent is from my run yesterday. I was talking to my coach while we jogged side-by-side on a narrow sidewalk. I turned my head to acknowledge something she said and sideswiped myself with a street sign. I have a nice, long, black and blue bruise on the left side of my chest, right above my, uh, tender part. About a week ago I banged my shin on the platform at the end of the monkey bars in the park down the street (I'm practicing my gymnastics skills). I scraped up my knee on a huge, underwater rock when I was tubing two weeks ago, the skin is starting to grow back, over a lodged pebble. I have a scrape where a sharp branch attacked my neck when I was riding my bike through some thick foliage a few days ago.

The fun thing about bruises (0ther than bragging about how you got them) is giving them a gentle poke every once in awhile to see if it still hurts, gauge the healing process. Emotional bruises are kind of the same. Every so often I kind of poke around my heart to see how things are healing up. Like the bruise I obtained yesterday, some of the more recent offenses still smart. But injuries that have had more time to heal aren't as tender (like my knee). I was surprised to find this week during an occasional self-exam, that a more serious injury inflicted years ago didn't hold any pain when I gingerly pressed my fingertips to the spot. So I pushed a little harder; looking at old photos, reading old letters, having a conversation about it with someone involved. Still, nothing. I even had brief thought this morning that perhaps it's time to stop hiding it. I've kept it a secret for so long, and now I'm not sure why I need to anymore. There was a strong sense of guilt and shame associated with it. I felt a lot of judgment from people I trusted in regards to the whole issue. Even people I thought would be open-minded and supportive, criticized my ability to have a normal life and pursue my big dreams because of the seriousness of the wound. Now those sentiments don't seem to matter, if they still exist at all.

I've been thinking lately about how I try to please people. I work really hard to do things that I know the people I care about will appreciate. I get no small amount of pleasure out of it myself. I really like being the source of other peoples' happiness or, at least, temporary enjoyment. I love to cook for people. I like giving my friends things that I know they will really like and that demonstrates how well I know them and appreciate their individual tastes and interests. But at what point does my desire to make other people happy inhibit my own enjoyment of life?

I was out with this guy a few days ago who really wanted to talk about cars. He really liked cars. He had gone to a show of some kind and was all excited about a new model something that would go really fast, and was really shiny (though I'm sure his description was much more sophisticated). My interest in cars is limited to how many miles I can get from a gallon of gas, and the implications they have for the political debate on clean burning fuel and the energy crisis. At first I tried to listen, even tried to recall an articles I had read or something I had heard on NPR. After about 10 minutes of this conversation I realized I was putting too much energy into a discussion I couldn't give a rat's ass about. And for what? Too make this guy interested in me, or at least think that I was interesting.

I have to give myself a break on this too, because I genuinely enjoy connecting with people. I really like learning new things from people and engaging with them in something they enjoy. Another thing I really don't like is hockey. It's one sport in which I have zero interest. But I went to a hockey game with a guy this past spring because I knew it was something he liked, and I wanted to experience his world a little bit. It's like watching a movie you have no particular desire to see because the person you're with is really excited about it. Or reading a book that's important to someone even if it's in a style or on a subject matter that's outside my usual interest. So, I'm happy to compromise and make some concessions on minor things like this, but when it becomes too much work, I need to be willing to change the subject, or suggest a different activity that will make ME happy, regardless of what the other person's reaction will be.

In regards to healing bruises, and old war wounds, I would like to be more honest about myself with other people. I'm not quite ready to lay everything on the table - there is something to be said for discretion. But if an injury no longer bears pain, there's no reason to keep the ugly scar hidden. I'm not perfect, I haven't always made perfect decisions. I've had accidents and moments of weakness that resulted in cuts and bruises. I think one of my biggest fears in sharing some of these war stories and putting my scars on display is that people will judge my character based on these individual events. And while they may have had a major impact on me, I don't want to be boxed in or categorized based on them.

I'm still unwrapping the bandages, and evaluating the healing process on some of these bruises. Every so often I set off a lightening rod of pain with a touch, when I thought it would most certainly be healed. And other spots aren't as tender as their recent infliction should suggest.

The important lesson I'm learning is that I don't have to be the same scared, cautious girl I once was. Eventually all the bandages will come off, all things heal, and all scars will be displayed. It's just part of living a good, rich life, sometimes you get hurt. As long as I live with integrity and make the right choices, I can be confident and know that I was doing something I enjoy when I got that black and blue mark.

The Eureka Hunt

Very interesting article in the July 28, 2008 edition of the New Yorker. An abstract is available:
http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2008/07/28/080728fa_fact_lehrer
I think it's a really fascinating attempt to understand where those "Aha!" moments come from, physiologically.

Ride the White Horse

Since my post on Friday, I am singing a new tune. Turns out all it takes to change my outlook and attitude is a good cry, dinner with a fabulous friend, and a solid Sunday-morning run. I'm staying at my parents' house this weekend. I needed to come home, both literally and figuratively. I wanted to be in a safe place for a couple days. As much as I love my apartment, and living on my own, sometimes a girl just needs her Dad to take care of her. (As I think I've mentioned before, my "Daddy Issue" is that He loves me so much no man will ever be good enough.)

So today I feel safe, strong, secure, empowered. It's a good launching point, and just in time! I have a busy couple months coming up and I have got to get my act together if I'm going to succeed. The Denver Marathon is just 60 days away (October 19), the Las Vegas Marathon is 50 days after that (December 7), my birthday is just over a month away (September 23), and my weekend of too-much-fun with Whitney is the following weekend. In the midst of all this, I'm taking on the biggest client at the law firm where I work, working on a multi-million real estate deal that will have vast implications for clean energy production in Colorado (and for the US), and volunteering at the DNC next week.

The funny thing about depression is that it inhibits you from doing the very things you know you need to do to make things better. I get stuck focusing on the muck in the trench that traps me. I feel helpless, hopeless, and I sabotage my best attempts to climb out by refusing to do the things I enjoy. Just three days ago I sulking over the fact that soon I'll be 27 and I haven't done most of the things on my "list." Last night I was watching the Olympics when Constantina Tomescu Dita became the oldest woman to win a medal in the Women's Marathon at 38, and Dara Torres (44) took home two silver medals. Running this morning I reminded myself that I've got so much life to live! I often get stuck in this mindset of trying to do everything "right now." Acting as though if I don't do it now I may never get the chance to do it before I get bogged down with all the obligations of adulthood. I think the key is to keep those goals in sight and NOT get bogged down with those socially-imposed obligations. Who says I have to be married before I'm thirty? Who says I should have kids before I'm thirty-five, or own a home, or work 50 hours/week? None of those things will make ME happy. I'm learning to give up the expectations that others/society may have for me and just do what's best for me.

Eventually I want to go back to school. I really want to teach Political Science at the University level. So why don't I do that, you ask? Because I don't have to right now. School will always be an option for me. And right now, I have a good job, I'm making serious head-way on being Debt-Free, and I am becoming convinced that if I buckle down, work hard, make some good connections in the legal field, I will have the freedom to pursue my academic career in a couple years. Right now, I believe I am in a good place. While my free-spirit wants to pack up and move some place new and different every three months, I want to set myself up for success by sticking it out right now. Also, I still have military obligations that limit my ability to disappear as an ex-pat in Argentina. In the meantime, I'm going to try to satisfy my desire for escape with long runs in the shadow of the Rocky Mountains.

Weathering the Storm

I know I promised to stop with the self-pitying blog posts. But lately I've lost a friendship that was very important to me. At first I determined that it was only temporary and eventually we would repair our relationship. Over the last week I've realized that it's simply become an artifact of a past-life that neither of us particularly enjoy remembering. While I was trying to develop a future with this person, they were slowly, surely putting me on the shelf. My initial reaction to this recent realization was anger. I wanted to hurt them they way I felt hurt. I restrained myself from sending any snide e-mails or leaving any verbal jabs on their voicemail.

I was thinking about it last night while I was driving home from my parent's house. It was late, the roads were empty and it started to rain. I started crying. It was the first time I cried about this loss. I hadn't let myself acknowledge, physically, how much I was hurt by the whole thing. I was trying to force myself past it all without mourning the loss and letting myself FEEL a little hurt.

As I got into bed last night I started thinking about other times I've felt abandoned and hurt like this. I've dug myself out of worse ditches, I can do it again. For me, the best way to handle this is to make goals for myself and mark my progress. It's my way of putting one foot in front of the other. So I made my list of things to accomplish by the end of the month. My running schedule has been rather light. My refusal to cope with this issue has zapped my energy and I'd rather watch DVDs than do something I really enjoy. Number 1 on my list is to run 6 times before August 31. I quit my regular yoga practice because I couldn't find any peace in it, I rushed through the poses, rigid and blocked. No. 2: Take two classes at the studio down the street. I've let my apartment become a mess. No. 3: Put my clean laundry away. I've been so inwardly focused I've neglected people I care about. Nos 4 and 5: Call Dawn Miller, and research the volunteer opportunity with CASA one of my friends at work mentioned. In reality I let things fall apart because I just didn't want to deal with this one problem. All the while I kept telling myself that I was fine, I deserve to smile, I've got it together.

Today I'm starting fresh. I may NOT be okay. I might be hurting. I might not be exactly where I want to be. I may not have everyone/everything I want. But I can face this disappointment, like every one in the past, tackle it, and come out stronger in the end - with a little more emotional fortitude.

You may think my daily horoscope reading is silly. And it is. But sometimes I find something worthwhile, like this morning:

"There has been some growing distance between you and a friend, but that is not necessarily a bad thing. Don't worry that the relationship is coming to an end. Friendships are not always just about having fun: They should be about growing, too. And growing pains are inevitable. You two are good for each other, so focus on that. It's important for you to respect them and accept their opinions, even if you don't agree with them. Value the history you shared together."

If that's all there is left of this friendship - history - then I need to acknowledge that, give up any hopes of reviving what we once shared, and move forward in that new mindset and heartset. Even though I will never find a replacement, I can find a temporary substitute until he doesn't matter anymore.

Live High

Last week was a particularly frustrating and stressful week at work. The pettiness of office drama and the overt under-handedness among co-workers is becoming near intolerable. To me, the amount of work I have to do is not a matter of ego. But some people seem to think that because they work 8 hours of overtime a week they work harder, are more valuable, and more important than those of us who only work our mere 40 hours. So when I was confronted by a co-worker returning from 3 weeks out of the office about how I had handled her case-load while she was gone, I was happy to hand everything back over to her; until she quit. Now she's hovering over my shoulder, nitpicking every little detail, complaining to the client that she just doesn't know what's going to happen to their cases since she's leaving, etc. My only problem with the situation is that she is trying to hold me accountable to procedures that she never bothered to tell me in the two weeks I was available to train with her.

I reached the peak of my frustration when she lost one of the signed original documents required for the application and then accused me of being disorganized. I have to make a side note here that while to most people I may seem disorganized in my personal life (if you've ever taken a ride in my car, you know), but at work, I am meticulous. It's an army skill.

The real silver lining in all of this is the fact that in the midst of it all, I never bitched and moaned to my boss, my co-workers, or anyone else (though I graciously pointed out the source of my frustration in specific instances to the "higher-ups") I never said an unkind or impatient word to her. I never made made snide comments or argued with her. I know that while it is very important to be right and for justice to be served, it is even more important to be known as someone who is humble, cooperative, teachable, and patient in every circumstance. Besides, she's gone in two weeks and then it won't matter one bit if she lost the paperwork or belabored me with minutiea; what WILL matter is how my co-workers and supervisors remember how well I handled a diffcult situation. I'm very proud of the way I handled myself and completed my tasks. I hope I can say the same thing at the end of this week! Bring it on - a test of character is a challenge I can relish!

I like my Drinks like I like my Men. . .

Tall and Strong.

I was looking at an old online profile I set up for something I never use. In the section that asked what my favorite drink is I responded with the line above. I laughed at what my previous version had written, because it was something I never would have said out loud, except my closest friends, and in jest - I was too afraid to admit that I liked men (a lot) in general. It got me thinking though: How do I like my men? Do I have a certain "type" that I gravitate toward? So I started thumbing through my mental files of boys, guys, and men that I've dated and/or had casual romantic encounters with. Really, the only consistent thing that catches my attention is that I dig Narcissists. Of course I have a physical type I'm attracted to: Tall, Dark and Handsome. (My newest Hearthrob certainly fits this description!) But personality-wise I'm pretty consistent as well. I really like guys who are totally self-absorbed. I think it's the confidence thing that accompanies that trait. Self-depricating humor is such a turn-off. I don't have energy to waste trying to feel sorry for someone or trying to make him feel better about himself. That just feels like manipulation, and I get enough of that from my Grandmother.

I went out a few times with a guy recently who was super nice, but he need so much assurance that I was having a nice time with him. He wouldn't take any liberties with me because he was so insecure about whether or not I wanted to be there in the first place. I quickly got bored and frustrated, so I stopped returning his phone calls. I felt bad at first for blowing him off, but really, I didn't need to waste his time or mine.

Then there's this guy I work with. Who I know is really in to me. But he'll hardly look at me when he says "hello" and his attempts at asking me out have been painfully awkward. I'm not interested, and I'm happy to let him slip quietly and swiftly into the "Friend Zone" partly because I know he'll never have the guts to make a real move. We went to a baseball game together (I was able to decipher the fact that he was inviting me to do something) and I scored a date with another guy right in front of him, and he just stood by without a peep. Maybe I'm cruel, but he shouldn't let me walk all over him!

The guys that I really enjoy remembering - all totally self-absorbed. What can I say, Narcisism is hot!

I know it's a cliche that girls only like jerks and "nice guys finish last." I admit, I fit that stereotype. I like strong men who don't ask permission - they think they're entitled, so they go after what they want. The problem is that they are so in love with themselves they can hardly recognize how fabulous I am, then they get bored and stop calling me. It's a vicious cycle, but I'm interested in getting out of it anytime soon. It's the viciousness that keeps things interesting. Maybe when I'm actually ready to settle down, the self-absorbed assholes won't seem so appealing. Until then, I'll be a cliche.

Life in Technicolor

Some experiences make you see the world in such vivid colors. The sky looks bluer than ever, the sun shines brighter, the breeze blows softer and cooler, etc. etc. Life is grand and you feel full, whole, content. Your soul sings and you just smile.



This weekend helped me realized how incredibly blessed I am. I ran the Wild West Relay - a 195 mile race from Fort Collins to Steamboat Springs. I was a last-minute addition to a team sponsored by a friend's husband's company. They needed one more runner for their team and I wanted to torture myself by running insanely long distances over high altitude mountain passes - really I just needed to get out of town and get in to something new, different, change things up a bit. It was a perfect opportunity. It was probably one of the best weekends of my life.



I really thrive on adventure - doing new things, meeting new people, seeing new places, challenging myself. I'm at a point in my life where I am comfortable enough with myself and confident enough in my abilities that I can really relish taking some risks. I always surprise myself with how fast I am, or how strong I am, or how friendly I am, or how well I can relate to people, or how quickly I learn a new skill.



On the drive home yesterday I was deliciously exhausted and it hit me that I am exactly where I need to be right now, living my life how I want to be living it. I am taking hold of the life that I want, life that is truly life. It may not be perfect, it may not even be what I thought or expected. But I'm not perfect, I'm me, and I'm just right for what I am purposed to do.



Walking in to work this morning was a different sensation altogether. As long as I keep doing things that excite me and thinking and acting in a way that allows me to be free, I can certainly carry the adventure over into my daily life.

Activating my Love Corner (Fun with Feng Shui)

I'm playing with Feng Shui and changing the location of things to try and adjust the energies in my life. One of my favorite attempts at this is when I go to Rockies' games I sit in one place for a while and if the game starts taking a turn for the worse, I move. I've decided that if I can change the energy by moving, the outcome of the game might change. My friend Adam (my baseball game buddy) just laughs and moves along. I think it's working though - the Rockies have won 9 of their last 10 games and scored over 10 runs per game in many of them.

When it comes to dating I'm applying the same principals. My dating guru, Ivy has suggested that I "activate the love corner" in my room to change the energy and un-block my romantic channels (sounds a little dirty huh?). So I put a lamp AND an air freshener in my "love corner." Maybe that means I'll attract men who have something going on upstairs AND smell nice? Not sure exactly how it's supposed to work - but all I can say is that my channels are starting to flow!

Inertia

(in-ur-shuh) - noun: the property of matter by which it retains its state of rest or its velocity along a straight line so long as it is not acted upon by an external force.

I'm realizing lately how difficult it is to change the trajectory of my thoughts without applying adequate force. For not having physical matter, thoughts in motion certainly remain in motion.
On days when things just seem to go all wrong it's hard to get out of the trenches, take a step back, breathe, and apply some external force to shift the straight line my thoughts have taken.
If I want to change the way I think and interact with the world around me, I have to set the intention to perceive it in a positive way. Perhaps not always in a positive (upbeat/cheerful/happy) way, but in a way that serves me, teaches me. When I come across a thought or attitude that doesn't serve me in the here and now, I have to acknowledge it, not castigate myself for it, but then apply some force to shift the line.

It all comes down to grounding myself, knowing where I want to go (the trajectory on which I want to be), and making necessary adjustments. So when I start to let my mind wander I and begin to sink into a funk, I'm trying to stop, breathe, remember where I want to be going, give myself some grace, and make an adjustment.

Part of my struggle has been figuring out what I want/where I want to end up. While I may not have a twenty-year plan on paper, I know I want specific attributes, certain things to be true about me. If I work on that, focus on developing qualities that I value, that's much more important than trying to get somewhere specific.

Thanks for Reading

I received an e-mail today about this blog from someone I respect. I was rather surprised to hear from him, but his message came through loud and clear: "Stop feeling sorry for yourself and realize how much you have!" I wanted to post a few excerpts from his e-mail because it was exactly what I needed to hear. Of course I appreciate the affirmation, but coming from someone like him, it really means a lot.

"Not to sound mean, but huh? I got to be honest with you. Why the hell are you feeling sorry for yourself? Tough time (with your) job? Perhaps because you are over qualified for most, if not all?"

"What is the case with this "trying to find someone?" Have you noticed guys are a little intimidated around you? Why do you think? Smart and beautiful? You think guys might be kind of scared about making the first move? I would pretty much guarantee it. That is what guys are scared of right off the bat. You need to be the one who starts things off....at least most of the time."

I think it is time I changed my tune. I usually write when I'm feeling down on myself, but that's become too frequent. I waste a lot of energy with "oh woe is me," garbage and I need to spend more time enjoying and appreciating what I have. It's funny, I've been listening to the new Portishead album a lot lately, and just yesterday I noticed that almost EVERY song is self-pitying. It irritated me - and that's what I've been doing here.

I've mentioned recently how I'm trying to take more risks, be more bold, specifically in regards to interaction with men. Honestly, it's been about finding ways to get more attention. I think what I really need to focus on is using my new found confidence to figure out what I want, and how I can get what I want - making me happy rather than trying to figure out how to make someone else happy with me.
I've wasted too much time and energy attempting to make certain people think and feel certain things about me, while I should have been more assertive about who I am.

So I'm trying to focus on the positive things in my life, get over myself, stop creating my own melodrama and just enjoy life a little bit.

Thanks for reading, and thanks for the feedback. I need that voice of reason to speak out among all the craziness in my head!

Dawn

I'm reaching the upper limits of my stress and frustration levels today.

I couldn't sleep last night. I just started staying at my new apartment. I finished my house-sitting gig in LoDo (Lower Downtown for you non-Denverites) and am now adjusting life in Cap Hill (Capital Hill). Every noise is a new sound, the apartment smells different, feels different, looks different. Even though it has all my stuff in it, it just doesn't feel like MY place yet. I know that will happen - probably in a matter of days - but for now, sleeping has become a chore. If you know me, you know I am a good sleeper. It's one thing I do really well. I can sleep just about anywhere - cars, planes, trains, couches, floors, tents, benches, movie theatres, you name it, I've slept there. And I sleep like a log. I mean, I've slept through heavy arms and simulated mortar fire. So for me, NOT sleeping is a huge indicator that something is wrong in my world. Plus, I am much less capable of dealing with all the little daily crises.

For example, I've been on and off the phone for the last three hours with two different systems to try and get one document filed in the Denver County Court System. I was given the impression (three weeks ago) that it was a very simple process of taking the document to the Court, putting it on their desk, handing them a check and getting them to put their stamp on it. So I take my happy little self down to the Court only to find out that it will only be accepted through their electronic filing system online. Then it will take a few days before they notify me to bring in the original document for the required stamp. So now I still have the original document with no stamp, and I'm less than a week from the deadline with at least half a dozen steps to follow. It turns out that the hold up is a simple error in the attorney's name that prevents me from being able to file the documents under the appropriate case number. Silly me, I was spelling his name correctly! In order to correct this mistake, there has to be a written request sent to the Court. Of course, the Court then notifies me that it's a problem with the online service provider, and they can't make any changes because of the way the attorney is registered with the State Bar Association. The online service provider tells me I have to request that the Court make the changes and it will automatically update in their system. The Bar Association will only deal with the number associated with the attorney, not their actual name. One of my co-workers asked me, "on a scale of 1 to 10, 1 meaning you could take a nap ('ha ha') and 10 meaning you want to pull your hair out by the roots, what level of frustration are you at?" I think I'm at about a 25. When I finally got through the long-hold and voice activated Customer (dis)Service phone line to an actual person I was so sickly sweet he had to sense the sarcasm. I'm passive-agressive when I'm tired. When the clerk at the Court told me for the third time that the speed at which they process my file will "depend on how busy" they are, I thanked her profusely for all her help in my best (and loudest) "thanks for nothing" tone. It's been downhill ever since.

So my day has become much like my night: tossing and turning until I can reasonably quit trying.

Lost?

I'm feeling rather lost today. I'm not sure what I'm looking for, but I know that I've been trying to put things into this void that don't really fit. It's like searching for a missing puzzle piece but I don't even know if it actually fits in the puzzle I'm working on. Discomforting.

I got into this emotional funk last night and woke up this morning even more confused, more frustrated. I went on a third date with this guy (from the bar) last night, and I think the novelty has worn off; now I'm bored. There just wasn't anything interesting about him anymore. I felt so guilty walking away thinking "I hope he doesn't call me." He was a good distraction for a couple weeks from what's really eating me, but now I'm searching again.

I had a really enlightening weekend in Colorado Springs. I traveled to Fort Carson with my Reserve Unit for out annual Weapons Qualification. A few of us, including one of my favorite girl friends, went down early to put everything in order before the main body arrived on Friday night. We had some free time and made the most of it. She's a good person for me to learn from, and I think she benefits from our friendship in a similar way. I'm a good conversationalist, she's a good flirt. I'm good at eye contact, she's good at physical contact. We cause our fair share of trouble. I'm really trying to take this new-found confidence out for a spin; talk to more people, try new things. I think of it as making the most out of a bad situation. Still, it's an emotional battle and just because I'm losing, doesn't mean I'm lost. I'm gaining some good new insights into myself.

I think the weekend I have planned should provide adequate temporary relief: Rockies game tomorrow night, friend in town on Friday night, Mile High Music Festival Saturday and Sunday. A few more good distractions.

Letting Go or The Strange Path to Peace and Happiness

Some interesting developments in the last couple weeks. I'm constantly amazed at how loss can lead to finding new and wonderful things that I never would have found otherwise.

About two weeks I had the rug pulled out from under me. I had been operating under a misconception for quite a while and upon learning just how wrong I was, I was (needless to say) disappointed. Not just disappointed, but deeply hurt. I felt mislead, manipulated, betrayed, etc by someone I trusted. My immediate reaction was to feel sorry for myself and feel foolish. After about 20 minutes of that (while shopping) I decided what I really needed was a night out with one of my girl friends so we could rant and rave about our favorite/least favorite members of the opposite sex. This friend and I have a certain proclivity for getting into trouble - not trouble in a bad way, but in a "you-never-know-what-will-happen" way. So we got dolled up and hit the town. This funny thing happened to me. I'm usually very aloof at bars. I have a hard time meeting guys because I don't want to mislead or give a wrong impression about the kind of woman I am. I threw all that out the window, talked to almost every guy who caught my eye, danced, took compliments, flirted and just had fun. It felt good. Then a really funny thing happened. I met someone. Someone interesting and smart. I did the unprecedented thing of giving him my real phone number. And he called me. We went out to dinner (twice now). And he's still calling me. I'm not sure why I'm so surprised by it, but he actually wants to spend time with me. I don't even have to beg.

So I'm learning, yet again, that major disappointment can put me in the right place after all. If I hadn't gone out that night with the intention of making some trouble, I probably wouldn't have met anyone. I'm not saying this guy is "the one" or anything crazy like that. But I'm being reminded that I'm someone worth taking out, investing time in, being with.

Oh, yeah, I painted my apartment, bought a dining room table and chairs, found a futon/couch, and am getting settled into MY apartment (before and after pics to be posted soon as promised). I'm in a really good place. This time, I can actually enjoy it, I don't have anything left to let me down.

My Turn

I've been thinking lately about why I allow other people to dictate so much of my life. I rarely make completely independent decisions. I consider all the things that other people recommend or prefer before I make decisions. I've always just chalked it up as part of my easy-going nature. But I'm beginning to think that being so easy-going and amenable to what other people want is detrimental to my own well being. Usually I let other people take the reins because I just want them to enjoy themselves, and I am easily happy in most circumstances. This is starting to take a toll on me.

One of my famous quotes during AIT was "I just want to do what I want to do." We were able to go off post every weekend. Usually we just got hotel rooms, drank, went to the movies, shopped, etc. It was fun, but someone always ended up drinking too much, getting in a fight, getting kicked out of a hotel room, etc. And who do you think was there to try and hold everything together, keep people out of trouble, smooth over arguments? I felt so responsible for my friends and making sure that they had fun I hardly had time to relzx myself. I got so fed up with being the caretaker and peacekeeper that every weekend I would swear that I was going to "do what I want to do." It became a running joke because I never just did what I wanted to do.

So this morning I was thinking about this problem I have. My sister, calls it Co-dependency. I'm determined to, at least today, make my choices, be a little selfish, admit what I want and accept those things, work for them.

The other part of my problem is that when someone wrongs me, I immediately determine what I did wrong to make them hurt me, or what I did to misunderstand or misinterpret their actions as hurtful and assume that they really had no malintent. Why can't I just accept that people do mean, selfish things to me, be angry about it, let the blame settle on them, forgive them, and move on? It seems better, nicer maybe, to blame myself, be angry with myself, and let them be. I've spent years kicking myself for wrongs others have committed against me.

The funny thing is, this is my horoscope for today:

"Are your friends getting too involved in your plans for the day? If you let everyone put in their two cents about everything, you'll never get anywhere! It's time to stop being such a good listener and start being more independent in how you go about things. Instead of getting everyone's input on what the right plan is, just go off and do what you think will work best. If you're wrong, who cares? You'll learn something, and show folks that you can think for yourself."

I love it when I seem to be in line with the Universe.

Destiny?

I’ve been thinking a lot about the different aspects of destiny or fate lately. I grew up learning that God is in control, He is sovereign, He has a plan for my life, etc., etc. All of which I’ve accepted whole-heartedly. It’s much easier to go about trusting that the universe is not spinning off its axis when crises hit, and I think I’m a stronger, more well-balanced person because I can take things in stride. I’m not really questioning this now, but what I am concerned with are two elements that are wrapped into this concept: whether things are “meant to be,” and whether I can be a victim of “bad timing.”

The whole issue of God’s will has seemed so rigid. When I’m not doing what God wants for me, I might as well be throwing my life down the drain. Lately I’m beginning to believe that there’s more flexibility in that. Perhaps what’s “meant to be” is more of a general purpose for my life, rather than daily rituals or simple choices. I truly believe in living as God intends – loving people, being kind, forgiving, being generous, being honest, living with integrity, reflecting His attributes. But all the in between stuff, like whether to rent this apartment or that one, or whether to date this person or that one, or whether or not to get a dog, I think those choices are truly mine to make. I want to live wisely, and I want to be ready and obedient to God’s direction in my life. The whole concept of “meant to be” bothers me because it limits my sense of free will. When I hear, “it’s just not meant to be,” or “it will work out if it’s meant to be,” I think it’s a cop out. It’s relinquishing control or giving up on something I just don’t want to deal with. Instead of taking responsibility and working for something, I blame the stars and wipe my hands of it.

I have the same reaction when I hear, “it’s just bad timing,” or “it will happen when the timing’s right.” I have certainly learned the importance of waiting for good things – or waiting out the disappointment for the good stuff to happen. I had a conversation the other night with a good friend about how if we had known each other the way we do now six or seven years ago, things between us would be different. He resigned that now it was too late. I think that’s fairly narrow-minded to think that simply because things don’t happen when they’re convenient, it’s a case of bad timing and thus all is lost. I think that so much of life is making our own timing. Granted, opportunities come and go, outside of my control, and I have to be able to recognize one when I see it, and take the chance to grab it. But if I don’t make things happen for myself, I’ll never get anywhere. So, I say to my friend, maybe our timing is yet to come – don’t rule it out yet simply because it’s not convenient right now. Maybe I’m overly optimistic, but that’s me – hope springs eternal.

I think one of the best decisions I made this past year was to quit working full-time at P.F. Changs. I didn’t have another job, but I cut back to one night a week, and began my search. I knew it wasn’t a good situation for me anymore – I was miserable. If I had waited until I found the perfect job before I left, I would still be there, hating my life. Maybe the timing wasn’t perfect, but I made a decision to do something. And it’s worked out beautifully.

Same thing with the State Department job; perhaps the timing wasn’t right for me to start a career in international diplomacy. But I’ve done everything I can to try and make it happen. I’ll never wonder if I could have or should have done more. It all fell so beautifully in to place in the beginning for it to fall devastatingly apart, but I didn’t give up. I made choices anticipating that it was going to work out, which all led me to where I am now. This aspect of God’s plan/fate/destiny I don’t doubt. And I know that by acting on faith, instead of simply sitting on my thumbs, waiting for “the plan” to drop into my lap, I’m living God’s will.

Perhaps things are or aren’t “meant to be,” and maybe I can be a victim of “bad timing.” But I refuse to believe that there’s nothing I can do about that.

Either Way

I had a lovely conversation with a good friend from the past last night. It was great to catch up and reconnect. I always find it interesting how people manage to find their ways back into each others’ lives at certain points in time. The phone call last night was so perfectly timed, I had to count it as a blessing.

Sometimes I want to hit the self-destruct button. I find myself losing hope for no good reason, and I just want to cut my losses and get out.

Things have been going so well for me lately. But I can’t relax and enjoy it. I went five nights in a row with less than two hours of sleep last week. No matter how exhausted I felt, I couldn’t fall asleep. If I finally did fall asleep, I would wake up by three o’clock, on the dot, my mind racing. I tried sleeping on the couch, reading, taking a walk, yoga, everything. I thought maybe it was just my body getting used to all the changes: new job, different living arrangements, different time schedule, etc. But usually this manifests itself in other ways, not my ability to sleep.

As I was talking to Chris last night I mentioned that I’m waiting for the shoe to drop. After my “Year of Disappointment,” it’s unsettling for things to be so right. Anytime I get a hold of something pretty, it slips away. So I’m waiting, anticipating, agonizing over the impending loss.

He’s not in a very enviable situation right now. But he’s hopeful, encouraging. What I appreciated about our conversation, what I appreciate about his friendship, is that we both seem to understand that there’s a plan.

Maybe the sun will shine today, I’ll understand, either way.

My Palace

I signed a lease on Saturday for my very own apartment. It's less than a mile from work, a block from Whole Foods, and it's all mine. I have big plans for my tiny space, so keep an eye out for before and after pics in the coming weeks. Of course, there will be a house warming so I can show it off when it's all finished!

I already have my first confirmed house guest for the summer! So if you're going to be in Denver and you need a place to stay, make your reservations now ;)

Lead with the Heart

At what point do we learn that love is something dangerous, serious, something to be feared?

Sunday is my yoga day. You know by now how important this practice has become to me lately. After missing nearly two weeks of consistent practice and training I became this bottle of negative emotion. In spite of the fact that everything seems to be falling into place for the first time in my adult life I was angry, resentful, irritable. I made any mishap or misunderstanding an excuse to feel bitter toward someone. That's not me. That's not how I want to live my life. Finally, on Thursday, I returned to the mat for a less-than-inspiring yoga class. But the difference of just going through the motions and focusing in on my breath, my body, letting my mind and heart go; on Friday, I was a new woman. I briefly realized how detrimental it is not to allow myself the time I need to balance and be introspective.

I spend a lot of time in my head, but not often in a very productive way. I get caught up in the what-ifs and what-nots and let the stress seep in.

This morning's yoga class was quite a blessing. Allison always chooses a theme on Sunday mornings. Today was "stress." So we spent the first few minutes of class talking about focusing on what I need to do in the here and now to make something work - not letting all the next steps and concerns about the final outcome overwhelm me. I set my intention for the day (another powerful tool I'm learning - but deserves a discussion all its own) - I wanted to feel quiet strength. Whenever I felt myself getting discouraged or my body giving in, I reminded myself to quiet down, relax, and be strong in the moment. The key to maintaining most of the poses is leading with the heart. Pushing it through and opening it, putting the rest of the body in balance, in place.

After yoga on Sundays I always refresh myself with some quiet time. A few weeks ago it was as simple as walking home from class and I had a realization that God is constantly uttering love to me. It's everywhere.

I want to digress for a moment, just to make a point. A couple weeks ago my brother and one of his friends spent a week backpacking in Utah. As you can imagine, I was sick with envy. They had a wonderful time and returned feeling rejuvenated and thoroughly blessed. My brother shared a story where he had broken his sunglasses and within half an hour found a new pair of sunglasses on the ground, in perfect condition, like they had been placed there just for him. They hiked along, looking for an owner but never found anyone sans-sunglasses. So Philip took it as a gift. The point is, when you are looking for blessings in everything, everything becomes a blessing.

So I ventured up into the foothills this afternoon to clear my head and receive any blessings I could find. At the start of my hike I was frustrated by this question of why are people so resistant of love? It struck me, God must feel deeply frustrated by my resistance of His great love for me. And infinitely more frustrated than I can feel because He has infinitely more love to give, and a love much deeper, richer, more powerful. So I set my intention for my afternoon, to simply receive God's love, accept His blessings. I took every plant, tree, fly, grasshopper, flower, stone, breeze as an expression of love. I soaked it in, let it wash over me. When I reached the pinnacle of my hike, overlooking the continental divide, I was overwhelmed. Overwhelmed, but not satisfied. I wanted more. I wanted to touch those mountains, experience them deeper, I wanted to consume and be consumed by all that was around me. So I lingered as long as I could, relishing the beauty of the day.

When I emerged from the woods and hopped back in my car to head to work I returned to my orginal question of why people are so resistant toward love? When did it become scary? Somewhere along our journey our broken, abused hearts forget the most natural and basic of exchanges: the giving and receiving of love. So how do I lead with the heart to maintain stability and balance? How can I allow myself to be open to giving and receiving love in spite of the fact that my heart doesn't even function that way anymore? The only answer I can find is that it starts with letting those little everywhere blessings fill my heart and put life into it again.

Then the next step then, is making those blessings real to the people I come in contact with. Talk about setting an intention!

Team Denver Marathon

I joined a new running/training group and we had our first run this morning. I think I'm really going to like it. A far cry from my last training experience, it was really organized, professional, structured. While my Team in Training group was great, I don't think I really learned much about how to train for and run a marathon.

I was very impressed with the coaches (professional fitness trainers)and the support staff (a nutritionist, massage therapist, sports physician, and physical therapists). The range of runners varies, but they assigned us to pace groups, with a specific coach for each group. There are 13 other sub-9 min/mile runners - so, in one day I have 12 new running partners. Most of us are there to be social as much as we are to train. Or maybe I just found all the other people there to socialize. Either way, people were friendly and the run was an all around pleasant experience.

Now I'm even more excited about running my second marathon October 19. And no worries - I won't be asking anyone for donations. I may beg you to be part of my personal fan club as spectators or water station volunteers!

Cath. . .

I'm terrified of reaching a point in my life where I have to settle for something less than what I really want because I believe all my options have been lost.

How do you maintain hope in the face of devastating loss and seemingly endless darkness?

I like to believe that I am a fighter. I keep faith in the things I think I deserve, and the things I know I want. But what about all those elements that are so far outside my control but deeply effect my life? I know what it feels like to be overwhelmed by a sense of hopelessness; when it feels like there isn't any point in continuing on a certain path because all sight of a happy ending is lost. I also know those fleeting times of perfect bliss, when I can almost taste the culmination of my efforts.

I want so much out of life. Sometimes I feel like time is slipping through my fingers and all my moments of perfection are gone in a whisper. I get so frustrated and discouraged by the temporal nature of happiness. Don't get me wrong, things are so good for me right now that I feel guilty even thinking about this.

I think what's eating me, in spite of all the goodness in my life, is that I want to know that I'm living my OWN dreams. I'm terrified of closing the door on so many things that would have brought me joy by pursuing something not meant for me.

I'm just going to lay it all out there. . .I think I'm falling in love. I want so badly for it to be right, because he's too important for it to be wrong.

Videotape

Today was a most perfect day.

First of all, my first full-time day was great. It feels so good to have an "adult" job with benefits and a retirement fund. I start my paralegal training tomorrow. Another element on my diverse resume.

Second, I'm spending my first night in the loft downtown. I'm totally smitten with this place. I'm already planning future dinner parties.

Third, and best of all, I finally, finally, finally, after a year of waiting, received my reimbursement check for the medical expenses I accumulated obtaining a clearance for the State Department. Hooray!

I really felt the need to document the perfection of this day, in spite of the abundance of energy I have.

Only one thing could make this day even more perfect. . .

To Good for Words

I'm indescribably happy right now.

I ran my first marathon this weekend in San Diego. I didn't run as fast as I had hoped, but I finished, and that's the important part. Even more though, it was a fantastic experience and I will be so much better prepared when I run the Denver Marathon in October. I know how to train, how to eat, sleep, drink, etc. It was a great learning experience. I think I finally found an athletic event that I enjoy and that I'm actually quite good at. You can see me cross the finish line at the local NBC website:

http://video.nbcsandiego.com/player/?id=257842

I'm not very visible, but when the clock reads 4:39:32 you can catch a glimpse of me on the far left-hand side walking off camera. I'm wearing an orange hat, purple singlet, and dark shorts with a white stripe down the side. More photos to come . . .

After the race I spent 2 1/2 amazing days in Los Angeles with a special someone. Also, a great experience. No video links available - sorry folks.

Tomorrow I start working as a full-time employee at Dill and Dill. I'm a bit nervous, actually. I've been there since January, but something about being there all day, learning a new set of skills, and actually having an "adult" job brings butterflies to my stomach.

Also tomorrow, I take up temporary residence at a loft downtown. I'll be housesitting until mid-July at a fantastic little place in the heart of Denver. I am SO EXCITED about it.

So, yeah, life is good right now. I couldn't ask for anything more.

Look Out San Diego Here I Come!

I leave today for my marathon weekend in San Diego. You can keep up with me on the race website: www.rnrmarathon.com. They'll post Live Results as I pass certain mile stones!

Thanks to everyone who contributed, both financially and emotionally. I wouldn't be going if it weren't for you!

Keep an eye out for a post-race report with pictures.

Bolder Boulder

I joined 53,000 runners in the largest timed footrace in the US this morning. It was so fun. A great race experience before I run the marathon on Sunday. I paced myself well, never got out of breath, hydrated methodically. I feel really prepared for San Diego.

http://raceday.onlineraceresults.com/individual.php?bib=HD306

It was also really fun to see so many Boulderites up and at it so early to support their friends and neighbors in the run. Thanks Boulder for hosting such a fantastic event! Oh, and the goody bags were like opening Christmas presents - I even got an orange in the bottom of my "stocking."

Post Number 100

Good news at a small milestone:

1) Yesterday I was offered a full-time permanent position at the law firm where I've been working as a part-time temp since December. I start June 5.

2) June 7, I'll be moving out of my parents' house to stay in a loft downtown (rent free!). It's only for 6 weeks, but I hope by the end of that time to have found my very own apartment.

3) This time next week I'll be in San Diego preparing to run the Rock n' Roll Marathon and making up for lost time with an old friend.

4) Thanks to Whitney (the best friend ever), I won't even have to shell out my entire life's savings to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society to meet the fundraising goal and actually get to the race I've been training for since February.

Good things are happening! It's really hard to use words to express the level of elation I'm experiencing right now.

Questions

I had an unusual experience the other day at the grocery store.

As I was waiting in line to check out the cashier was chatting quite passionately with the couple in front of me about Star Wars and something about the balance of power within the Force. I rolled my eyes and picked up the latest Vogue - apparently I would be waiting a while to pay for my few items. When the cashier finished his conversation and the couple left, he greeted me: "Hello, did you find everything you were looking for today?"
"Yes, thank you," I replied curtly.
"Would you like your questions today?"
"My questions?" I asked. "You mean that you ask me questions?"
"Exactly."
"Uh, okay, sure."
Then he launched into a series of questions reminiscent of a "Choose Your Own Adventure" novel: "underwater or outerspace?"
"Underwater," I answered quickly, remembering the Star Wars conversation that occured not so long ago in a galaxy just like ours.
"Whales or Sharks?"
"Whales."
"Blue Wales or Sperm Wales?"
"Blue Wales."
"The Mariana Trench or the Puerto Rico Trench?"
"Uh, I don't really know much about those," I responded warily.
"Okay, History or Science?" he continued undaunted. (By this time my groceries had been scanned, weighed, bagged and paid for).
"History."
"Ancient or Medieval?"
"Ancient."
"Egyptian or Greek?"
"Greek."
"Would you rather be a new-born baby or an elderly person?"
"Uh, I guess an elderly person."
"Why?"
"I think elderly people were more respected in Ancient Greek culture than infants were."
"So you would choose your destiny based on what other people think of you?"
"Wait, what? No, I just think that once you've had so many experiences, you can really be happy, you have more control over how you live." I smiled, satisfied with my spontaneous burst of articulation.
"Do you know a lot of happy old people?"
"No, I know a lot of grumpy old people."
"Why do you think that's the case?"
"I think they probably feel like they don't get the respect they deserve."
"Okay, have a nice day!" He excused me with a nod.

I was at the gym the other day and I noticed an elderly couple moving slowly up and down a set of stairs. The gentleman had a walker at the bottom of the steps and his wife held one arm while he supported himself on the rail with his other arm. After one assencion and decension they moved ever so slowly to the rowing machine where the woman helped her feeble husband lower himself onto the seat and complete several repetitions. Watching them reaffirmed my answer to the clerk at the grocery store. I would rather be an old lady helping my life partner complete an exercise routine than a crying infant any day.

Don't Tell Me

I really hate it when people tell me I can't do something. My response is usually not "I'll show them," and go out and do it. My response has always been one of defeat, one of "they're probably right, I'm terrible at that." But lately I let people know that they're wrong - maybe not wrong about my ability, but wrong to discourage me in such a manner. I will determine what I can and cannot do, what I am good at, and what I am not so good at. I know my strengths and weaknesses, and I will embrace my talents and improve my flaws.

Running Woman

In less than two weeks I'll be running the Rock n Roll Marathon in San Diego. While I'm thrilled to be competing in an elite event, there are so many remaining obstacles. I really just want to run a good race (in four hours or less). Right now, getting there is the hardest part.


 

I finished the Platte River Half-Marathon about two months ago with a group of women I've been training with.

Semi-deep Thoughts and Dirty Little Secrets

If you know me very well, or if all you know of me is from reading this blog, you have probably figured out that I am a bit of a mystic. I believe that God communicates to us in many different ways; through orchestrated circumstances, a chance encounter, a timely rainbow, an insightful conversation, and as I've experienced lately, through yoga. In a nutshell, I believe that all truth comes from God and He communicates that to us in the most effective, personal way.

I've been taking yoga classes fairly regularly now for the last couple months and the results have been great - not what I expected, but good nonetheless. I haven't gotten the Jennifer Aniston body, but I have limbered up a bit, gained some strength and learned a few things.

On Sundays the instructor sets a theme or an intention for our 90 minute session. It's become a more spiritually invigorating practice than church has been lately. I was actually very overwhelmed as I walked home after class yesterday. I've been thinking a lot how we know God's will and how I find truth, how I know and understand God and His plan for me. The struggle for me in this is that I've been taught that knowing God is a rules-based relationship; a list of dos and don'ts. There have been times when I've felt close to God but it always had something to do with me believing that I was following the rules and thus was allowed to enjoy God's presence. I get so weary of always trying to do what I'm supposed to do and I allow myself little room for error. My brother commented the other day that I give him such a hard time because I have such high expectations for myself. That's a whole other conversation though. But I do set really high goals, try hard for a while to accomplish them, and when I don't see the expected results within a month or two, I give up. Then once I've had time to recover and I'll give it another shot. On either side I go all out. When I'm committed, I'm all the way there. When I'm not, I'm really not, verging on self-destructive. To get back to the point, I'm tired of thinking of my relationship with God in terms of following a set of rules and performing specific duties, then feeling guilty and giving up when I slip up.

So I was thinking about it as I walked home yesterday and I was overwhelmed by the understanding that God communicates love to me in a very personal way. It was a gorgeous day, the sun was shining on my face, the breeze played with my hair and cooled my skin, birds sung among the rustling leaves around me. It was almost like a love song written to me; I accepted and enjoyed it.

I think a few years ago I would have cringed at this discussion because I was so concerned with what I assumed to be right, with what other Christians perceived as right. I shyed away from yoga classes, and more generally a relative view of religion, because I thought it might expose me to some dangerous Eastern religious philosophy that would inhibit my ability to know God and Truth. More than that, I think I was scared that my religious friends would chastise that behavior. I was curious though and needed some help loosening up (physically and emotionally) So instead, I bought a Yoga DVD and did it at home, alone, and hid it when I was done. It was my little secret. In fact I have many of these secret behaviors that are quite harmless, but I hide them anyway. For example, I have no idea why I impulsively lie about cutting or coloring my hair. I'll change something about my appearance, someone will pay me a compliment, and without missing a beat I act as though I have no idea what they're talking about and pretend as though I've always looked this way. Why do I do that? It's stupid, petty, insecure, but it's become a natural reaction. Perhaps I don't want people to know that I'm vain.

Taking classes in yoga is one way I'm starting to do what I want to do. I hope it lends me some bravery to conquer some other irrational fears. I'm really getting sick of letting my fear of how others might react have any weight in my decisions. I've always envied people who could live uninhibited. I'm not throwing wisdom or discernment out the window, I just want to allow myself the freedom to pursue things that interest me, regardless of what anyone else might think.

T-minus 22 Days

I had the realization today that 3 weeks isn't much time before I'll be running the longest distance I've ever run, in a city I've never been with thousands of people I don't know. I wouldn't say I'm stressed about it, but the all the unknowns make me a bit anxious. I have my flight plan, a hotel reservation, a map, good shoes, solid training, the know-how to finish, really there's nothing to worry about. There's this small voice that utters all the "worst-case-scenarios" in the back of my mind. It makes me wish my Dad was going with me. He always makes those fears go away.

I'm running nearly 23 miles - 3 1/2 hours; just under my hopeful marathon time. I want to finish in 4 hours or less. I think once I get this training run under my belt I'll feel a lot better about the whole thing.

My strength is really not in the anticipation or planning of an event, but in the actual execution. I know that, just like everything else, I'll pull it together in the end and it all turn out beautifully.

Your hopes and prayers are much appreciated. Thanks for your support thus far!

Embarrasing Story of the Day

If you've been keeping up with your reading, you know that I went out with a guy almost two weeks ago. I haven't heard much from him since so I've started to wonder what I did wrong or what's wrong with him, etc. He was scheduled to do system maintenance on the computer network at the law firm where I work today. So I did what all girls do when she sees a guy she likes but feels rejected by: look hot and act cool.

After class this morning I rushed home to get ready for "work." I put on a pot of coffee before I jumped in the shower. Mind you I gave up coffee at the beginning of the year and haven't had more than half a cup or so since. Once I had washed, shaved, plucked, styled, dried, moisturized, fluffed and primped as much as time permitted, I gulped my four cups of coffee (now just warm after sitting for 30 minutes), changed shirts twice, and dashed out the door.

About half-way to work I remembered why I gave up coffee. While I may try to convince everyone that it was for health reasons, really it's about vanity; coffee makes me sweat profusely.

I got to work, settled in to my desk and went through my daily routine, only much faster than usual and with trembling hands. The coffee jitters were setting in, the moisture under my arms was increasing and I had another realization: in all my grooming and fussing I had forgotten to put on deodorant.

Forty-five minutes later, I'm sweating like a 300 pound man in a polyester jumpsuit, and I'm pretty sure I smell like on too. I excused myself to the ladies room and once I'm in the safety of a locked stall, I pulled off my sweater, fanned my armpits and tried to soak up the excess moisture off my sweater with toilet paper. Once dressed I returned to my desk and tried to calm myself down.

No less than five minutes later, he walked in. "Hi," I said in the most even tone I could muster, just briefly looking up from my computer screen.

"Hey there," he said, leaning over me. "How are you?"

"Fine, how are you?" I looked into his face, and as I spoke I reached up to push back my hair, revealing a still-wet armpit with toilet paper stuck to my sweater.

I still haven't gotten that second date.

Heartbeats

One night to be confused

One night to speed up truth

We had a promise made

Four hands and then away

Both under influence

We had divine sense

To know what to say

Mind is a razor blade

To call for hands of above

To lean on

Wouldn't be good enough

For me, no

One night of magic rush

The start a simple touch

One night to push and scream

And then relief

Ten days of perfect tunes

The colors red and blue

We had a promise made

We were in love

To call for hands of above

To lean on

Wouldn't be good enough

For me, no

To call for hands of above

To lean on

Wouldn't be good enough

And you, you knew the hands of the devil

And you, kept us awake with wolf teeth

Sharing different heartbeats

In one night

To call for hands of above

To lean on

Wouldn't be good enough

For me, no

To call for hands of above

To lean on

Wouldn't be good enough

For me, no

Spring Fever or Boy Crazy?

I had a date today. A real date with a man. We had a great time, or at least I had a great time. I think it was the first date I've been on in . . . it's embarassing, so I'll just say, "a while."


We took a rock climbing clinic at my gym, my idea. I thought it was a really good first date idea; not a lot of time for awkward silence, and he's the athletic adventurous type so an activity that gives him an opportunity to show off and enjoy himself. Then we had an early dinner; very casual and great conversation.


So now, I'm anxious. As often as I go on a date, I go on second dates about half as often. I really hope he calls me. I guess since he's the one who suggested dinner it's my turn to come up with something else. He did ask me to go to lunch sometime, but that was last week. I just really hope I didn't unknowingly do/say something idiotic to scare him off.


There's this line between indicating interest and coming on too strong. For me, I have never been able to walk this line effectively. As a freshman in high school I was attracted to a guy, and I just told him, right to his face. I was so brave. His reaction? Nothing. He simply avoided me for the next four years. When I was nine I had a crush on a boy, and he threw sand in my face on the playground. When I was seven, the boy I liked threw spitwads at me in Sunday school. Now I know that this is how boys express interest. But it left a mark. Now, twenty years later and pretty much the same level of success, my romantic compass is a bit off.

The Choices We Make

I'm teaching an Intro to Political Science class this semester and recently we've been studying social movements, and, specifically, the American Civil Rights Movement. My own academic and personal research has focused on these topics, so naturally I'm quite enthusiastic about teaching them. What fascinates and inspires me about social movements is the involvement of average people taking important matters into their own hands to influence governments to take action. In the midst of reading and teaching classes on social action and citizen involvement in politics, I've been struck with a dilemma.


I've been pretty down on the US government, and kind of the whole country in general lately. Perhaps I've been watching the news too much, but I think it has more to do with the fact that there are so many terrible things happening that no one seems to do anything about, or the bureaucratic solution seems to create more problems than it solved. I don't really want to go into depth about the issues on my mind right now, but let's just say there are few things that I think are going well. . . actually I can't think of anything that's going well right now in terms of government decision-making. I want to be perfectly clear that I do not blame all the current circumstances on President Bush. The mess I believe America is in has little to do with the decisions of an individual, regardless of how much power he wields. The great bureaucratic machine has much more to do with our daily lives than the President or Congress ever will.


Not too long ago I wrote about Into the Wild and how I envied Christopher McCandless. He had what seemed to be ultimate freedom. He left everything behind. Not because he didn't care about the rest of the world, quite the opposite acutally, but because he was deeply concerned with experiencing life. He was troubled by the social problems that surrounded him and just grew weary of the pain and frustration.

To me this is a very attractive option. I've often harboured dreams of escaping my frustrations by leaving everything behind. These ideas can overwhelm me and I feel the desperation rising in my throat.

Then there's the part of me that knows that nothing will ever be solved by my leaving. It might make me feel better for a while, to ignore the things that distress me, but I could never live that way for long.

My dilemma, then, is this: do I choose to stay and fight for the things that I think are important, or do I turn and leave them behind, knowing full well that any efforts are likely to be unsuccessful.

I was struck with this after reading oral histories of activists in the Civil Rights Movement. They put their lives on the line to gain greater freedom for society as a whole. Many of them joined as the Movement progressed, but a few people took initiative to take action, to make a change.

What I really want is freedom. Selfishly, I want the freedom to live my life the way I want, and to make my own decisions, uninhibited by ridiculous social norms or unwarranted expectations. I know that the choices I make are not isolated, and they have some wider effect.

I don't want to feel so responsible for solving the world's problems. I also know that most people are apathetic or feel hopeless, and if I don't act on my convictions I'm denying my nature.

I can't get the words of Nelson Mandela out of my head, "For to be free is not merely to cast off one's chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others."

Rush of Blood to the Head

Have you ever had a moment when someone you thought you knew so well suddenly seems like an alien? It's baffling to me how quickly my perception of a person can change, and yet, how they always stay the same. Perhaps it's the curse that love is blind to flaws and at some point, when the feelings begin to fade, you get a flash of reality. Suddenly all the small inconsistencies make sense and a person's true nature is revealed, but it's not what you expected to see at all. It's a crushing, numbing experience and the only response is to turn around, speechless, and just walk away.

One of my married friends once told me that the first year of marriage is always the hardest because you learn, "I am the most selfish person in the world and he/she is the second most selfish person in the world." I don't think I have to get married to learn that, my problem is that the other person will often hold the first-place position.

Girl Talk (Part 2)

Last time in "Girl Talk" I discussed my issues with the "I just want to get married and have babies" women. I decided that while that's all well and good for them, this type of life decision scares the pants off me (err, or scares them on me). Today I want to talk about the women who lose all semblance of individuality when they get into a relationship with a man. I understand that it's common to make some changes in behavior when you begin dating someone. What I don't get, and don't like, are the women who completely change all behavior when they are dating someone. For example, I have a couple good friends who are in fairly serious relationships and whenever they speak to their boyfriends, their voice raises two octaves, becomes irritatingly nasal, and their tongues revert back to the speech patterns of a three year old. These are both women who are strongwilled, smart, outgoing, confident and beautiful. So please explain to me when they talk to their boyfriends they suddenly become passive, simple, childish, and insecure. Neither of them put much stock in femininity so their behavior is confusing and frustrating to me. Another example, one with which we are all painfully familiar, is my friend who starting dating a guy and suddenly disappeared off the face of the planet. She was completely unreachable by ANY means of communication for well over three months. Once they broke up she called me up and wanted to meet for lunch. We picked up right where we left off, but several other relationships have dissipated completely under these circumstances. Finally, there are the girls who can't talk about anything BUT the guys they are dating. I give them props for at least speaking to someone outside of their bilateral romance, but really, don't they DO anything else? It's as if suddenly all other interests, hobbies, goals, dreams, plans, fly out the window as soon as a boyfriend enters the picture. I had a good friend in college who was so enthusiastic about her future, she had plans for medical school, thought about joining Doctors without Borders, talked about global politics, participated in charity events, was very active in her sorority, then she met this guy. She was still around but she gave up on med school, traded the front-page for the sports-section, gave up positions in some of the organizations in which she was involved and eventually moved away to follow her boyfriend in his pursuits. Her world suddenly revolved around this guy. She became boring, dull, predictable, and completely engrossed in his world.

It all reminds me of the tabloid gimick to refer to hollywood couples by a combining parts of their names (Ben-nifer, Brangelina, etc.). Instead of incorporating any part of their own names in the hybrid, it seems that many women just prefer to be called by their boyfriends' names. Not to knock the tradition of women changing their last names when they get married - to each her own. What I mean is that name changing often represents a change in identity rather than just changing the way you write your name.

As a woman who hasn't been in a real relationship in quite some time, I look to my friends for cues on how to behave around men that they care about. When I see this example of a loss of identity it makes me very cautious about dating in general. I know compromise and adaptation is part of a relationship, but I don't see many guys altering their behavior, let alone their entire demeanor for their girlfriends.

I have a friend, a brilliant woman who has been dating this loser off and on for a year or so now. He's very controlling, selfish, narcissistic, and narrow-minded. Why she continues to get involved with this guy I have no idea. She's writing her thesis on gender roles in American society. Loosely paraphrased the title is "There aren't any more feminists, just women who pay for their own boob jobs." This dichotomy is fascinating to me. She is so strong in so many areas of her life and yet almost helpless when it comes to her boyfriend.

After tossing this around in my head for a couple weeks, I have to come to same conclusion about my dislike for "just call me by my boyfriend's name" women as for the "I just want to get married and have babies" women. It's the loss of freedom, loss of self that I dislike. Perhaps I'll change my mind when I meet a man who makes me want to be all about him. But something tells me I never will.

Playing Nice

How nice is too nice? At what point does continuing to show kindness to a person who drives you mad just plain dishonest? I'm all for courtesy and even more for actually being kind and compassionate toward people. But I have come to believe that kindness is often mistaken for attraction, especially by men who rarely get female attention. A simple, "hi, how are you today?" accompanied by a smile somehow becomes, "I want you." I'm not a particularly flirty girl and I really try hard to be cautious and not misleading. I never want to be accused of being a tease - though some of my friends are starting to convince me that a little manipulation never hurt anyone. But what baffles me is that a guy can be completely oblivious to what I believe are obvious rebuffs of attention.

On the other hand, I can't seem to turn on the charm enough to get attention from someone I'm seeking out. Is that a hazard of just being genuinely friendly?

Tiny Little Sparks

Every once in a while I have a realization that my face and body betray my true feelings. So much so that I wonder if I actually voiced the words I was thinking in my head without actually moving my lips. For example, I was riding the bus the other day, it was crowded but I was completely lost in my thoughts. Suddenly the guy sitting next to me turned his head quickly and gave me this surprised, puzzled look. I quickly ran through my memory to try and figure out if I had actually been speaking out loud. I smiled, blushed and returned my gaze to the passing street. Just today I was talking with this guy at work and I got the sense that my face was revealing too much because he just smiled at me, kind of strangely. When I realized I was blushing I got even more flushed.

Communication experts say that 70 percent of the meaning we convey in conversation is through body language; 20 percent is through tone of voice; and only 10 of meaning is expressed through actual words. It's interesting how much meaning is never communicated in media like e-mail or the internet. And it makes sense, the people who I believe know and understand me best are the people that see me everyday. They can read my reactions, my facial expressions, my posture and know what I am thinking without any exchange of words.

Perhaps then, it's not that strange that I often feel that my face and body reveal my true thoughts and feelings before I open my mouth to say a word.

Busy as a Bee

The last couple weeks have kept me very busy. And it doesn't look like things will be changing anytime soon. It's funny to look back a few months ago and wonder how I was going to fill all my free time. These days free time is a rarity. Even sleep has been hard to come by. While I'm enjoying the activity, it has required quite an adjustment.

The last couple weeks I've been working at Vodafone in the mornings and for the attorney in the afternoon, except on Tuesdays and Thursdays when I teach at Rivendell in the mornings. On top of that, my marathon training has kicked into full gear. I ran 8 miles this morning with my Team in Training team. During the week I'm running thirty to forty-five minutes a day and weight training a couple times a week. I've been doing most of my workouts in the evenings which means I can't get to sleep before midnight. Then getting up by six in the mornings is taking a toll on my body. My workout goal this week is just to shift my training hours so I can get up earlier and get to bed earlier.

Anyway, I'm continuing at Vodafone throughout March as well as doing my annual military training. I'm not sure how it's going to work out yet. In my planner it looks great, but there isn't much room for error.

The great part is that I'm actually working full time at several things that I really enjoy. The pay will be great too. I just hope I can keep it up. My weekends have suddenly become way too short, and very valuable.

The goal to this would be to pay off a majority of my debt in the next couple months while I'm living with my parents and have few expenses. Then I can get a place of my own. I've been looking downtown. I made a deal with myself though, that I have to take care of my medical debt and pay down my credit card debt before I move in to my own apartment. I hope that will be adequate motivation to be more frugal in my spending.

Girl Talk (Part 1)

INTRODUCTION

This is the first in a series of posts in which I work through my issues with other women. I have lots of them. I really don't like women, in general, and while I like some women, in particular, and have many very dear female friends and confidants, I don't like what womanhood or femininity represent. And I really don't like women who embrace these norms. I realize that this is a problem. I also realize that anyone who reads this may be offended or downright disgusted by some of what I'm going to say, but I am a firm believer that problems never get solved through dishonesty or denial. Bear with me as I work through this.

I've been trying to remember when I started feeling this way about women. Growing up my mother was quite severe toward men, having experienced her own measure of discrimination. But I think this also ingrained in me a dislike for women who refused to take the opportunities presented to them, or pursue the occupations and activities that had previously been unavailable to them. Nonetheless, I longed to be feminine. As a girl I only wore pink, purple, and white, arguing that other colors were "boy colors." I begged for gymnastics and dance lessons. I loved reading books with female characters. One of my favorite book series growing up was the "Mandy" series. It was a series of books about a girl, Mandy, living in North Carolina at the turn of the century who solved mysteries with the help of an old Cherokee man who had been able to avoid the Trail of Tears. Anyway, I loved these books. Not just because they were mystery stories, but because Mandy refused to abide by restrictive social norms of the day, but still managed to maintain a semblance of feminity in necessary circumstances.


I think in high school I became more aware of my dislike for what I perceive to be the weakness of feminity. No particular event comes to mind, but I remember hating Jane Austen books. Not because I had read and disliked her, but more because those were the types of books that girly-girls read and liked. Those romantic stories were for silly women with mushy hearts. I was determined not to be one of them. Now, I admit my ignorance, and after reading my share of Jane Austin, I have renounced my aversion toward her. Although the recent release of several movies, The Jane Austen Book Club, and Finding Jane are re-awakening my distaste for the way women distort her writing to become a method for finding a man, as if that's the end-all-be-all of female existence.

ISSUE #1: The Problem with Motherhood as a Life Goal

The first issue I want to tackle is my problem with women who "just want to get married and have babies." Over the last couple years I have changed my opinion drastically about children. Perhaps not that drastically, I think I've only been willing to say outright what I've thought for most of my adult life. Most of my acquaintances can attest to the fact that I don't want anything to do with children. I'm not mean to them, in fact, children really seem to like me. There was a moment a few months ago when I was sitting in purgatory aka the DMV, and there was a little girl about 3 years old who was just wandering around crying. BAWLING. Open-mouth, tear soaked face, wailing. I made a disgusted face and looked around to identify what irresponsible and inconsiderate adult would dare bring a child into a public place, let alone let that child behave in such a manner. Within a few seconds my eyes connected with the girl's eyes and suddenly she stopped crying. She snapped her mouth shut, rubbed her fist across her cheek and walked over to me, finger in her mouth. As she approached she waved at me with her free hand (flinging tear drops from her fingers). I was stunned, but I felt my face soften into a smile. Before she actually put her slimey little hands on me, her mom walked by snatched the girl's hand out of her mouth and yanked her out the door. The little kept looking back at me as her mom dragged her out to the car. All this to say that I am not an evil child eating witch. I just don't particularly like children. I don't want them in my place of business, or in the restaurants I eat at, in the grocery store, or anywhere in close proximity.

There are days, about once a month, when I actually like children, I smile at them on the bus, I think they're cute and imagine having one of my own. Then I wake up and smell the baby puke on my sweater and realize it's just the heightened level of hormones rushing to my ovaries and my "biological clock" ticking away. I've often sneered in disgust at the desperation many women feel to have children. There's a Friends episode where Joey and Chandler take Ross's baby Ben out with the hope of picking up women. One of the first women they encounter comments on how cute the baby is, following it up with "I think my uterus just skipped." UGH. Even one of my favorite authors, Isabelle Allende, noted that she starts her books with the first sentence "from the womb, not the mind." As if thinking with the heart isn't ridiculous enough, now women are thinking with their wombs?

After weeks of sorting through this particular issue, (I started this post February 18, it is now March 12), I had a realization. In a completely unrelated incident, I was struck by the fact that those things we hate are most often the things we fear. This isn't an original idea, but it became very real to me when I had a negative reaction toward two guys dressed in very "urban" clothing. I realized that I don't dislike those guys in particular, but the way that they dressed, their defiant limp, represented something that created a fearful reaction. So, what is it about women with children that scares me? It's not children or marriage within itself that is so terrifying, but it's the loss of freedom they represent.

If you know me very well, you know that few things cause me more anxiety than missing opportunities. The number one source of anxiety in my life is my intense realization that often choosing one option or taking one path eliminates all other possibilities. It follows that I am essentially paralyzed in the face of major life decisions. I love possibilities. I love to talk about options, plans, hopes, things I want to do. Again if you know me, I've probably driven you crazy with multiple conversations about something new that I want to do, a new career plan, a new adventure, a new opportunity to learn or go or do. So marriage and motherhood sparks in me this intense fear and anxiety that I will be STUCK with children for 18 years of my life. I never want to be so responsible for another human being that I lose my individuality and independence. I have worked too hard to define my identity and I am working on making my mark in history, to lose that, and to lose the freedom of choosing between millions of opportunities feels like losing the whole world.

If you are one of those women who "just wants to get married and have babies," understand that it is not you nor your child that I hate, but rather I hate the loss of freedom that you represent. I guess it's possible that some women find freedom and fulfillment in raising children,; good for you. Next time I see you toting your toddler and pushing your infant in a stroller, I'll try to understand that this is the life you chose for yourself, and I am making my own choices. If I look a bit smug, it's only because I know I will never regret eliminating the possibility that I will be in your shoes.

Random Thoughts of Bliss

Life is good these days.

For the first time in a long time I am happy. And I've actually been happy for a little while now.

I worked at Vodafone again this week. Last time I was there it was just after New Years. It was a nice milestone for me to realize that I'm six weeks into 2008 and I am exactly where I hoped I would be. I've been sticking to my resolutions, keeping my goals, making the lifestyle changes I wanted to make. I think it's safe to say that I am developing habits out of my resolutions. It feels good, mature. I'm starting to grow up and I am surprised to find that I like it.

Ironically enough, I am also moving back into my parents' house at the end of the month. Actually it's really exciting to anticipate saving my rent money. I really want to move to downtown Denver. In order to afford it, I need to save a couple months for a deposit and moving costs, etc. As I walked from my office bulding to the bus stop (I took the long way) I passed by a few apartment buildings advertising vacancies. I couldn't help but notice the half a dozen attractive men out for a jog or walking their dogs. I was beginning to wonder where they all live.

The Part Where You Let Go

I really like this song and just wanted to share it. Enjoy!

When the rain breaks the road
Are you holding on
Are you holding on
To your last good day

When the stone breaks the wheel
Are you holding on
Are you holding on
Til the stone rolls away

And I don't know
Is this the part where you let go
And tumbling out of a window
Is this the part where you find out
I'm there for you

When the sun leaves the field
Are you holding on
Are you holding on
To the last sweet light

When the flame leaves your eyes
I still see you there
I still see you there
On your darkest night

And I don't know
Is this the part where you let go
And sinking under a shadow
Is this the part where you find out
I'm there for you now

As your hand's breaking free
I am holding on
I am holding on
As you've held on to me

And I don't know
Is this the part where we let go
Tumbling out of a window
Is this the part you're there for me

And I don't know
Is this the part where you let go
And sinking under a shadow
Is this the part where you find out
I'm there for you
You find out I'm there for you
You find out I'm there for you

-Dan Messe (Hem)

Into the Wild

A few years ago I read the book Waking the Dead by John Eldridge. Few books have really changed my perspective on life and spirituality as much it did. I've always been a reader, and I've loved stories for long before I learned to read. I love that stories and books take me to another world, make a different life real to me. For as long as I can remember I've dreamed about being a part of one of my stories. Even well into my teens I imagined myself as a characters in my favorite books. By the time I started college, intellectualism had become the altar on which I worshipped, and I forced those silly thoughts out of my head, abandoning imagination as a childish tendency. Then I read Waking the Dead. Eldridge actually uses fairy tales and epic stories to tell truths about God and life! Suddenly it was okay to imagine that I am part of a greater story. Not just okay, but healthy, and enlightening.

I'm an adventurer at heart. I often imagine that if I had enough cash to pay off my debt, I would free myself from this prison of materialism, competition, and greed and hit the road, catch a train, sail to the ends of the earth. It's an entirely romantic notion to live with that kind of freedom. Free from time and obligation.

Last night my sister and I attended a showing of Into the Wild at CU. It's based on the book by the same title by John Krakauer about Christopher McCandless, a 23 year old college graduate who hitchhikes to Alaska as an attempt to experience the world as nature intends and escape a painful home life. His entire journey makes a wonderful and tragic adventure. "For two years he walks the earth. Ultimate freedom."

The whole time I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to leave everything behind and venture into the wild myself. Wonderment became desire and desire, longing, then finally desperation.

After I dropped my sister off, I cried the entire ride home. Not just cried, but wept, sobbed. I was overcome by this sense that I am missing something in my life. I am tethered to this pile of debt and obligation that is preventing me from living the life I was created to live. Even now, the lump in my throat is growing as I think about all the time I've wasted. I want so much more out of life, but I feel like it is just beyond my grasp. There is so much world out there, and I am missing it.

Milk and Traffic

Today I decided, after sitting in traffic for two and a half hours to travel a total of 18 miles, that I hate driving. I've known for a long time that once I get behind the wheel of a car, I transform into a different person. Everyone on the road suddenly becomes my enemy as we compete for space on the highway. I yell and curse, get angry about things that the object of my frustration is completely oblivious to. What really gets me is why other drivers can't feel my frustration and just all pull to either side of the road letting me drive right down the middle to my destination. Taking the bus everyday has allowed me not only to have a chance to interact with other people, it has given me the freedom to view them as friendly fellow humans going about their day, not selfish, stupid, road hogs.

The other thing I learned today is that milk is not my friend. I traded dairy for soy products as of January 1. I also quit drinking coffee (gasp!). But after my red-faced frustration on the road this morning, I decided I would treat myself with a tall, non-fat, one-pump cinnamon dolce latte, no whip. About two sips in, I felt the lactose taking its effect. Usually I am not sensitive to foods. I can eat whatever I want, whenever I want and not feel any side effects other than satiety. But after nearly three weeks without dairy, I now understand a little better how my body works.

Add that to my list of resolutions: No more driving and no more milk. I (and everyone around me, on the road or not) will be much happier and healthier for it.

Happiness

An article in my favorite news magazine struck me as funny. It discusses all the characteristics of happy people, describes who is most likely to be happy and in general reviews two books that take a shot at analyzing happiness. The most interesting statement in the article, "Happy is the new sad." Meaning that just being happy isn't good enough for people anymore. Happiness is something that we consider, especially in America, to be an "inalienable right." One of the authors points out that you can't really have happiness without experiencing pain and melancholy. I think the article concludes on a perfect note, quoting Eric Hoffer: “The search for happiness is one of the chief sources of unhappiness.”

In case you want to read it for yourself:

http://www.economist.com/books/displaystory.cfm?story_id=10529960&CFID=5893580&CFTOKEN=6bbb29e84bc48d01-B4441861-B27C-BB00-012BA0E5400D08EB

Isolation and Interaction

Recently I've been using public transportation to get to and from work. Not only has it saved me from sky-high gas prices, but it has saved me hours upon hours of time that I would usually waste sitting in traffic, cursing other drivers. Rather, I have forty-five minutes to an hour to read, listen to music, relax, unwind. I can be completely oblivious to driving conditions, weather, time. At first I used to get frustrated when I didn't get to my destination quick enough or when the stops took too long. Now that I've acknowledged that all of that is beyond my control, and completely insignificant, I can completely relax and enjoy the ride.

One of the best benefits of riding the bus everyday is the human interaction. I've realized how easily we can become isolated from the rest of our species simply through our mode of transportation. Every day, twice a day, I look out the window to see thousands of people in their cars, alone, sitting in traffic. I can relate to that, after being a single driver for years. I would turn on my music and get lost in my own head. I still have that option on the bus, but I also have the opportunity to engage with other people.

Now I understand that by making eye-contact and smiling a complete strangers on board public transportation carries some risk. I might get involved in a conversation with someone who won't stop gabbing or who has bad breath or whatever. But there is a greater likelihood, I've found of having thoroughly pleasant conversations.

On Tuesday, for example, I met this smart, polite, interesting, funny (very nice looking) guy on my ride home. He's a political science student at CU Denver. We struck up a conversation and chatted the whole time. After a year of struggling to meet people, it was nice to know that it can be that easy.

Today, while I was waiting for my local transfer bus in Denver, I started talking with an older woman. She was sweet and talkative. She is in the process of changing careers so we shared stories about the trials and tribulations of job hunting.

For me public transportation has had a very humanizing effect. It's nice to be reminded that we're all just people orbiting this lonely planet, moving about our daily lives. When my life intersects with another it's an opportunity to exit the rat race for a minute and look outside myself. I welcome those chances as often as they may come.