Where Has 10 Years Gone?

Note: I wrote this back in October, but hadn't gotten around to posting it yet when everything happened with my mom. So I'm getting around to it now. I was hoping to include a few pics, but oh well.

For the most part, I was really looking forward to my high school reunion. I didn't love high school - it wasn't "the glory days" - but I didn't hate it either. I made some good friends, I went to Young Life and found the Lord, I had a lot of good times, I had success. Generally speaking, it was a great jumping off point into adulthood. But by the same token, after graduation I only saw a handful of people from high school, and that was mostly because they too went to Western. By my junior year of college, I wasn't keeping up with a single person from my alma mater.

I like to think I had a relatively good self-esteem for the typical high school student, but the reality is, I was a victim to the curse of adolescence: I was a slave to what others thought of me (or more accurately, what I thought others thought of me). As a result I was hesitant to really be myself. Instead I was constantly on the prowl for social cues and non-verbal indicators that might point me in the direction of what I ought to be. Sad, isn't it? Who wants to live life like that? But of course, I didn't see it then.

From my vantage point now, I can see that in reality the only thing that separated me from the "popular kids" or the kids I thought had it all together, was confidence. Those kids had missed the memo that you were supposed to be concerned about what everyone thought of you and instead just did their own thing. Right or wrong, they did it. And in turn, we respected them for it, deemed them popular for it, and tried to figure the mystery out for ourselves. Truly the social culture of high school is a fascinating phenomenon to me. I wonder if anyone has done any studies on it....

But now I'm straying from my point, which is to say that, since high school I had grown into a quiet confidence of my own and was now comfortable in my own skin and proud of the young woman I had developed into. So needless to say, when I first received the invitation to the reunion, I immediately uttered a small yelp of fear and my stomach quivered and jumped up into my throat the same way it does when I pass a cop and I'm 5 miles over the limit. (It's funny how the smallest things can undo 10 years of emotional growth in a heartbeat isn't it?) But then I took a deep breath, reminded myself that I was fresh off one of the best experiences of my life (8 week Italy sojourn) and that I liked who I was. I had nothing to be afraid of.

Fortunately they give you months and months of advanced warning for these things, so I put that time to good use losing five pounds and reminding myself that I'm proud of who I've become...even if I am jobless, boyfriendless, live at home and feel a little bit like Romy and Michele. I'll just tell everyone I invented Post-Its. It'll be fine.

Truthfully, I was a bit nervous as the date approached, but fortunately I had recently figured out what I'll be doing with the rest of my life and that gave me an enormous amount of peace. I really didn't care that "on paper" I sort of sounded like a loser. I had gained confidence and maturity (and really cute hair) in the last ten years and I was excited to share it with friends I hadn't seen in a decade. Not to mention, I was terribly curious about what ten years had done to them.

Way back when, on the night of my graduation, I had my first glimpse of what I can only call liberation from the high school mind-set. For the first time I stopped thinking about people's "reputation" and just hung out with people just because. I have no idea why I did that, but I can't tell you how many people I "met" that night and how I wished I had spent time with them over the last three years. Ahh, my first glimpse of regret. It was precisely because of this freedom and consequent regret that, despite any short-lived moments of panic, I was firmly committed to attending my ten year reunion.

As the day arrived, I was mostly calm yet excited, with only fleeting moments of hysteria peppered in. Whenever I felt one of those sneaking up on me, I reassured myself by coming up with false facts about myself I could distribute (should the need arise) not unlike John Cusack's character in Gross Pointe Blank. That seemed to do the trick.

Really, the hardest part of the whole night was walking all alone into an enormous room of familiar strangers. I checked in at the desk, received a name-tag with my embarrassing senior photo in color (thanks for that extra special touch Dave), and for the briefest moment, considered turning directly around and running away. I squelched my flight instinct though, stuck my chin out, and told myself the secret is to appear confident even if I don't feel it. Then I proceeded directly to the bar. If I was going to loiter in a room of former classmates, I was going to do it with a drink in my hand and appearing cool, calm, and collected, dammit!

Moments later, whiskey sour in hand, my long-time friend (and the person I was probably most excited to "re-union" with) Dave Andresen crossed the room and gave me a great big hug. Suddenly, the jitters were gone and I was glad I came. And it was pretty much smooth sailing from there on out.

For the most part, people were exactly the same. Despite growing up, maturing, and becoming adults, people still are who they are. Sarcasm may have morphed into cynicism or confidence into contentedness or misplaced self-doubt into bravado, but the core person is the same. It was simultaneously oddly comforting and off-putting. Perhaps I hadn't changed as much as I thought I had...Perhaps it was simply that I decided to like that person rather than loathe her.

The design of the evening was pretty much drinks, dinner, and socializing. I made an effort to talk with as many people as possible, but I know I only made it around to about half the people there (and I think we had just over a hundred). It was fun to catch up with people I had been friends with and to catch a greater glimpse of the people I'd barely gotten to know. I was shocked to learn I had made an impression on others, much in the way they had left their fingerprint on my memories. I had always figured I had slipped into and out of other's lives without much of an impact, but it wasn't so. I was surprised to see people I had gone to school with since first grade and that I hadn't even realized were a part of my graduating class. I guess you get so used to seeing a person every day of your life, for twelve years, that they cease to distinguish themselves from the scenery of your life. I also met people I had absolutely no recollection of, nor did they have any of me (now, that was weird).

All in all, it was a really, really good night. It was all I could've wanted in a reunion and I was thankful I went. My only regret was that more familiar faces hadn't been there. There were plenty of others I really would've liked to catch up with. I'm not sure if their lack of attendance was the result of a schedule-conflict, or speaks to more of a psychological conflict...Either way, in my opinion, they missed out. I walked out of there feeling exhausted, happy, with my curiosity satiated, and wearing someone else's coat*. I guess that's just how it works when you're the last to leave.

*I had a brief Chili Palmer moment when I realized the last coat hanging on the rack wasn't mine, but then I found my car keys in my purse. Which is probably for the best anyway. I wouldn't have liked to start a war over a coat and end up chasing a dry-cleaner named Leo to LA and in the mean time get involved with some shady guys in the movie producing business. I mean, not unless it was like, my favorite coat or something.

IT'S A GIRL!!

I'm pleased to announce that Mark and Monica's wee little bun in the oven is a GIRL!!

They had previously decided that this was going to be their last attempt at a girl, and especially in light of everything that has happened with my mom, I'm sure it wouldn't surprise you to learn that when I heard the news, I immediately began to sob in joy. (Quite embarrassing, as I was in a little sandwich cafe at the time, but oh well.)

I can honestly say, I've never been so happy and so sad, simultaneously. Of course, this news doesn't actually change anything: Mom still won't be here to know and love this new baby. But it is truly heartening to me to know that God still has a wonderful and loving plan. He knew before we did, just how much is would mean to have a baby girl in the family right now. Not three years ago when we first met Gracen, not (presumably) years from now when I have children, but Right. Now.

God knew far in advance that right now, this would be the time for a girl. That this would be a balm for our hearts. That NOW was the perfect time to say Yes to the dearest wish of our hearts. And for that, I am grateful.

In the mean time, you may prepare yourself to greet our newest family member in late May, by the name of Miss Julia Jane (after my mom, of course!).

Time to Move On

Thanks to the many readers out there who suggested ways to save my poor little machine-washed ipod shuffle. But alas, after giving it my best effort at resuscitation via your suggestions, I've had to come to terms with the loss and let go.

Thankfully, Apple just came out with a new generation of ipod shuffles and now I get to test drive the new version - woo hoo! Not only is it smaller in size, bigger in storage, and broader in features, it's dang adorable! Check me out!

No seriously, check me out...*

*Can anyone out there name that quote?? Becky Hussey, I'm looking at you...

D'oh!

After days of literally doing nothing more than napping and eating chocolate (so far, this is my coping mechanism for grief) I actually put on clothes, ran errands and did laundry today - I know, right!? Huge Accomplishment!

Too bad I discovered in the midst of my second load that I had washed my ipod shuffle :( Now it too has forever passed onto the other side.

Just to review: my current ipod count is zero. This is down two from a year ago. Awww. (Feel free to send more sympathy cards on learning this newest tragic news.)

The Funeral

We will be having a memorial service for my mom on Thursday, November 12th at St. Stephen's in Renton. Viewing will begin at 12:00pm and the service will begin at 1:00pm with a reception to immediately follow. We would love it if you would come. If you plan on attending, please bring a single flower for part of the service.

St. Stephen's the Martyr Church
13055 SE 192nd
Renton, WA 98058
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It's Official

After a long struggle, mom passed at 11:25pm tonight. It looks like we'll be having a viewing on Wednesday night and a service on Thursday afternoon in Kent. We'll let you know more details as we figure them out.

Won't Be Long Now...

Not much to report at this point. Her oxygen levels are really starting to come down and as a result, her heart is working even harder to compensate. (Un?)fortunately, her heart is a champ and just keeps pumpin' away. As her breathing becomes more labored, we're increasing her morphine in an effort to help her relax. I suspect it won't be too much longer...

We're all here, spending time with her in the final hours - retelling stories, laughing, crying, just being. For the most part, we're tired - but good.

Saying Goodbye

It's been an emotional but peace-filled morning. We're doing our best to surround mom with the people and things that she loved. We brought one of her quilts to snuggle her in and sprayed her with her favorite perfume. Mark and Austin made muffins (a Sunday morning tradition of my mom's) and we've been force-feeding them to everyone. :) Dede brought a cheap rosé (her favorite) with which we will toast her with in her final moments. We've been playing her all her favorite tunes, as well as a final good-bye recording from Austin and Gracen, which she seemed to respond to.

We've each had a bit of time to say our last good-bye and hold her in our hands for the final time. We've finally all arrived and will be taking her off the respirator shortly. I know I keep saying this, but I simply can't say it enough: all of the thoughts and prayers and words of endless comfort have been such a help during her time of passing, thank you. I know they must feel abrupt, awkward or insufficient, but truly, they have each been a blessing - every one. So again, a heart-felt thank you.

It's That Time

After prayerful consideration, numerous family and medical staff meetings, and reviewing my mom's will directives, we've decided to no longer artificially prolong her life. The damage to her brain is just too extent to expect any kind of quality of life after this point. Her brain swelling is not decreasing and she is just not very responsive. So with heavy hearts, we're preparing to say good-bye.

If you haven't had the opportunity to come visit, or if you would like to come say good-bye, please come do so anytime today. We're contacting our immediate family members so that we can decide on a time to take her off the machines and all be present when she does pass. At this point we anticipate it will be sometime tomorrow.

I'll continue to update the blog as details become clearer, but in the mean time, thank you again for all the support. All your notes, comments, phone calls and texts really do make a difference!

Insert Enormous Sigh Here

So, the plot thickens. Yesterday I spent a really great day with my mom in the hospital (of which I will blog about later today and share the details). When I got home I discovered that someone had broken into my mom's house. I know, right - could this possibly come at a worse time? Whoever it was tossed a bunch of my mom's stuff like they were looking for something (which makes no sense). Her clothes are everywhere, her bed is all cattywompus, they pulled out crap all through her bathroom and her closet. The sewing room is somewhat trashed and I know for sure the computer and her expensive jewelry is all gone. We're not sure what else yet, but needless to say, I'll be doing my best to figure all this crap out today.

The idiot burglars were smart enough to come through the back and to find some of her expensive things, but they were dumb enough to leave her purse on the kitchen counter complete with cash, current credit cards and her car keys - can't figure that one out. We're really hoping there's no danger of identity theft, but since I don't have the contents of my mom's house memorized (especially where she kept important documents, etc.) it's hard to know. Since the kitchen was in plain sight and ignored, we're hoping that means they were interrupted and didn't have much time to take things that are truly harmful (like her identity).

In any case, I'll keep you posted, and please add this whole bit of nastiness to you prayers. I won't be making it to the hospital today, as I'm going to try and sort out the whole break-in thing and then I'll be watching the boys so Mark and Monica can have a nice long stint with mom today. I'll let you know what news there is (if any) and I'll try to post about my day yesterday (which was actually very heartening to me).

Mom Update 11/4

Well the weekend troll is back on duty at the nurse's reception desk (have you seen Monster's Inc? Just picture the receptionist from that movie...) and we have a male nurse today for the first time. Mom's continuing to look better each day and she's a little bit more alert. She's keeping her eyes open for longer amounts of time and looking around a bit. Unfortunately, she still doesn't seem to recognize anyone.

They haven't done a CT scan yet today, but they'll do one either later today or tomorrow. She continues to do well with her breathing tests (when they turn the machine off), but it will still likely be a few days before they extubate her (take the breathing tube out). In the mean time, she does have a little fluid in her lungs, so they'll be monitoring that, and she's had a bit of a fever, but it's coming down.

Mostly she's still drowsy and fidgety and likes to hold a hand (and squeeze!). Still no significant movement on the right side and though in general her puffiness is all gone, I can tell the right side remains a bit swollen.

Today I'm giving KJR a rest in her room and instead mom and I are going to be couch potatoes. We'll be watching movies and USA (our favorite channel!) all day. I meant to bring The Untouchables with me today, but forgot. I guess we'll have to save that one for tomorrow :)

Please especially be praying for our family as we're making our way through the denial stage and starting to encounter grief. I think we're each in need of comfort (though we may not know what that looks like...) Again, thank you to everyone who has just been loving on us - we need it!

Mom Update 11/3

Update (5:41pm): The CT scan showed no change in swelling.

Update (4:19pm): Well, it's been a confusing day. The long and the short of it is there isn't any real change. The decrease in swelling yesterday was good, but it was so incremental that it hasn't taken her out of the "danger zone." So she's still in a pretty serious condition and the docs don't have a lot of hope that she will a) be able to move much if at all on the right side or b) that she will have any language comprehension at all. They are having trouble getting her to follow commands, which means she likely doesn't understand. Not new news, but delivered again today (several times) and pretty discouraging. They just did a CT scan and we haven't yet heard the results.

Update (2:11pm): Emily (our awesome nurse) just told me that NO CT scan has been done yet today, so we don't actually know if there is more swelling yet. Today is typically the day of MAX swelling, so perhaps that is what Dr. Teply was referring to...? Now I'm a bit confused, so hang in there (I'm sure you are too). They're going to do a CT scan and we're going to talk to someone in neuro, then hopefully we'll have a clearer picture. Sorry for the confusion - we're trying to figure it out...

I haven't been able to get to the hospital until now and I've learned through the grapevine that for some reason the CT scan didn't happen this morning like we thought it would. So originally we didn't have any results to pass along.

However, Dr. Teply (who is the doc that performed the open heart surgery) said that they finally did the CT scan and it showed that her brain is swelling again and that we may need to revisit the conversation regarding removing a part of her skull. He was quite kind and very empathetic and candidly shared that if the swelling does continue, perhaps it's a more humane way to let her go. She is going to likely be paraplegic and unable to communicate...

The neuro doc is supposed to be on his way to talk with me, so I'll post again when I know more. :(

Mom Update 11/2

Update (7:02pm): After spending some time with mom today, though she hasn't opened her eyes as much as before, she has been moving and fidgeting quite a bit. The movement on her left side seems very intentional and as if she were awake. (But of course, each time I look to her face to check, she's not.) But the movement is deliberate and not simply out of discomfort or necessity, so that's great. I've also begun to see some minimal movement on her right side. I didn't expect that at all, so yay!

Even though things are still a wee bit precarious, it's an enormous relief to know we've turned a corner. I can't tell you how much the constant support from everyone has been - thank you, thank you, and thank you again.

As we settle into a bit of a holding pattern, I will continue to update you on mom's progress, but I'd anticipate it to be more like one (or possibly two) a day. Progress will be slow and (hopefully) steady and we will be going toward staying with mom in shifts more and more. If you would like, feel free to come visit. And remember to focus those prayers not only on recovery, but also specifically with language!!

A bit of good news today - we met with the neuro PA again this morning and she said the newest CT scan showed that the swelling in her brain has gone down - yay!! So that means it's moving in the right direction. It was only an incremental amount, but she is cautiously optimistic that we're out of the danger zone.

They also took her off the respirator for a limited time today to test how she does without it and to look at her natural level of saturation (basically how well she breathes on her own). Things looked good, but the PA doesn't want to actually take her off the breathing tube for a couple more days as a precaution. She said though, as we continue to see the swelling go down, we should begin to see her waking up a little bit more. Which is all great news.

This however, doesn't change her long term outcome. She will likely never be independent again and will require permanent care. Before the swelling began she showed signs of understanding and the ability to follow commands. Again, as the swelling incrementally goes down, we should see incremental gains in both wakefulness and understanding. Just how much...that remains to be seen. She will have to go through extensive occupational and speech therapy for at least a year.

There are, of course, still risks and we're not guaranteed that she's out of the woods...but we're heading there. Thank you all so much for your thoughts and prayers. Both Monica and I dreamed of my mom talking last night. More than likely it's more wishful thinking than prophesy, but it doesn't hurt to pray about it. As we move forward and pray for her recovery and guide her through this whole process, let's concentrate on language. Our PA told us that not all of her language center was affected - some of it was spared. It's hard to think of my mom as permanently disabled, but if she were given the mercy of communication - what a blessing that would be!! It's still very early, but the PA anticipated she would have significant difficulty communicating her needs. I can't imagine that is anything but frustrating. Let's pray she's willing and able to tackle the obstacle.

This is all still so overwhelming and surreal....and we have a very long road ahead. Thank you so much for your continued prayer and support - we need it!

A Note About the Posts

If you're receiving these posts via email, you should know that I am editing the posts throughout the day with updates and the system does NOT send out a new email. To see the most up-to-date info, come to the actual blog address: www.itspouxtoyou.blogspot.com. Thanks!

Mom Update 11/1

Update (9:23pm): We just heard from the neuro PA and she told us that the swelling in her brain has remained the same - no increase in swelling. So all in all, we're considering that good news. She's going to put her on a little medication and hopefully we'll see even less swelling when the do another CT scan at 8am tomorrow. Thank you for all the prayers - keep them coming!

Update: The doctors are going to do a second CT scan tonight at 8:00pm to evaluate if her brain is still swelling. We've asked the neurology PA to call us once she's had the chance to analyze it and let us know if she's still swelling, holding, or decreasing in swelling. This will basically let us know what direction the next bend in the road is going to take us. I'll post again tonight once we get the debrief.

I got a call from one of the doctors on the stroke team that is monitoring my mom's case this morning and he told me that the stroke she experienced was fairly extensive. Because the stroke was on the left side of her brain, she will have significant weakness on the right side and likely have language and communication issues and require significant care. This is the best case scenario.

As part of monitoring her care, the team is doing a CT scan each morning. Today's scan revealed additional swelling in the brain (which is the body's normal response). Unfortunately, the skull doesn't allow for much room and the swelling can potentially be life-threatening.

Now (2:02pm) our entire family has just met with the neurologist looking after her and it may come to a point wherein the swelling is so great that it maybe necessary to remove part of her skull in order to preserve life. Unfortunately, because the extent of the stroke was so great (they showed us the CT scan and it has damaged almost the entire left side of her brain) that we're not sure what kind of functionality she's going to have, even for a best case scenario. So just to be clear, if we decided to do the surgery, it wouldn't improve her outlook at all, it would simply increase her chance of living. (Mom has been pretty clear with us in the past that she has no interest in living life as a vegetable. She wants to be here, or not.)

For the brain, maximum swelling usually takes place between 48-72 hours, or the window of time we're in right now. They'll do another scan tonight which will indicate whether it's continuing to swell or beginning to recede. In any case though, the outlook really isn't very bright.

Please continue to keep our family in your prayers and know that if you would like, now would be a prudent time to come visit.

One Thing You Can Do

In an effort to tap into the power of prayer and connect with one another, the women of my mom's prayer group is taking time to light a candle and spend a few minutes in prayer every evening at 8pm.

I absolutely love the idea of my mom's network of family and friends each partaking in the power of prayer simultaneously, from our various posts in the world. I will certainly be making this a part of my nightly routine and I invite you to do the same. Even if you can only do it one night, please take this opportunity to be a part of corporate prayer for my mom.

And while I have you for a minute, thank you to everyone who has left a comment, called, texted or touched base to support me and my family as we navigate this unfamiliar and frightening terrain. It's such an enormous encouragement, so thank you.

Mom Update 10/31

Update (9:29pm): After spending all day at the hospital with mom, I don't have much new info to report. She's still not actively awake, but by the time we'd left, it seemed as though the brief spells when she'd open her eyes were happening more often. She's still not moving her right side at all, but the neuro PA told us she did respond to pain stimuli, so she's at least got feeling (which is great).

We also learned that after a stroke, the brain swells. It won't be until after that swelling comes down that they will be able to do any real kind of assessment and diagnostics in terms of permanent damage. So there is still nothing we can do but continue to wait. It could be a few days or up to a week. Obviously, the sooner she becomes responsive (and the brain swelling goes down) the better. The most consistent message we got all day was that it's simply way too soon to tell.

The one bit of encouragement from the day was that as I was saying goodbye to mom for the day, she woke up a bit and tightly gripped my hand, squeezed it, and didn't want to let go (after trying to shove my sleeve cuff off my palm - she hates it when I pull them long). So the fact that she held on tight and did an action she'd do under normal circumstances was a good sign. Granted, it's a small one, but still good.

Update (1:09pm): Unfortunately I don't have any good news to report. She's still not moving on her right side (the stroke was in the left side of her brain - I think I said it backwards earlier), though she is fidgety on her left side. But she's still not awake even though she's not sedated. Not exactly sure what that means, other than that since she's not communicating and not actively awake, they can't assess the extent of the damage. Thus, it's a waiting game. There is nothing they can actively do at this point. We have to wait and see if she will come out of it. They were unable to even give us a best/worst case scenario as it's just too early to tell. And so we wait.

This morning I got a call from the hospital updating me on my mom's status. As I mentioned earlier, they had noticed that she wasn't very responsive on her left side. So this morning they did a CT scan and confirmed that she did have a stroke. They don't know yet the extent of the damage. It's possible that she could recover completely in six months, or it's possible that she may not. She's with the stroke team right now as they try to figure out what the situation is. A few months ago she had an unexplained subdurral hemotoma (sp?). They're now wondering if that is related to what we're seeing now.

Currently she's still pretty groggy, but that is normal. Mark and I are heading down to the hospital now - I'll update more when we have more info.

Open Heart Surgery

Update (10:00pm): Just called the ICU to check in on mom and the nurse on duty said she still hadn't regained consciousness from the anesthesia. He was a little concerned that she was only responding on one side of her body. Since she's still not alert, she is still intubated. He said he has seen this before and the patient was just fine, but it's still cause for a little concern. Hopefully they'll be able to get the tube out by morning. Please keep praying for her (and us! I'm mostly keeping the panic at bay, but I'm pretty exhausted and my defenses are down). I'll try to update the post again in the morning.

Update (3:14pm): Everything went really well - they are currently closing her up right now. They did three bypasses, one valve replacement and one valve repair. I meet with the docs for the official debrief in about an hour. She'll go straight to ICU for recovery. The next 24-48 hours will be the most telling...

Update (11:44am): Everything is going as planned - she is on the heart/lung machine and they are beginning work on the bypasses. That will be followed by the valves. Next update should be around 3pm. So far, so good!

My mom is having her surgery done today (they're getting underway any minute...), so if you have a spare moment today and wouldn't mind saying a prayer or two, we'd be much obliged. :)

I'll update this post with any news as I get it throughout the day. But feel free to post any questions, etc.

I Finally Figured it Out

I'll be honest with you, sometimes it's tempting to be satisfied with mediocrity and to let myself meander toward whatever meaningless job I can find in an effort to "move forward" and stand on my own two feet again. But after a moment of serious consideration, I usually sigh and shake my head because I know that will never do. I know I won't let myself live with that kind of dissatisfaction. How do I know? Simple. Because there is not one moment in which I have ever found myself regretting a) going to Italy or b) quitting La Belle. In a way, that life was a form of mediocrity. It was a plateau and I was unwilling to endure it another moment.

So here I am, living out of a bag for my 13th month, sleeping on couches, guest beds and futons, living on the generosity of family and friends with no real job, no real prospects, and absolutely no excitement about finding a job. It was this last one that really made me stop and think, "What am I even moving toward? What am I doing?"

I had made a promise to myself the summer after college when Becky and I lived in Spokane. During a several week long temp assignment at the Home Loan Center of a large bank during the mortgage re-financing fiasco of the century, I learned what it was to hate a job. I woke up each morning filled with dread. I had to bribe myself with rewards just to get up, to get dressed, to walk to the car....I counted down the days; the hours. I promised myself then I would never let myself keep a job I hated. It simply wasn't worth it. The money, the stability, the safety - it wasn't enough. As I left La Belle and Bellingham behind and headed for Italy, I felt I had kept that promise to myself. I certainly didn't dread or even really dislike my life as it was. But I knew if I stayed, I would. By leaving it was certainly a giant risk, but I had allowed myself to keep an important promise.

But after a year of joblessness and a constant state of impermanence, I still had no answer to the question, "Where was I going?" Like all things profound, the answer came to me unexpectedly and when I wasn't looking for it. After watching a documentary called American Teen (a real life version of The Breakfast Club wherein they follow a prom queen, a jock, a band geek, and a weird girl through their senior year of high school in Warsaw, Indiana) with my mom, we were having a great conversation about the difficulties of being a high school student and how important positive role models are. I was shocked by the lack of impact teachers had made on these students and found myself reflecting on how many teachers had influenced me (though I hadn't realized it at the time). The more I talked about it, the more impassioned I became. It would be so easy for me to connect with high schoolers; so simple to make a positive impact! As a joke I said to my mom, "I should be a teacher." And almost as soon as it was out of my mouth, something within me clicked into place. I should be a teacher.

I was tempted to dismiss the idea immediately...but instead, I took a portion of my new-found-Italy-sojourn courage and tested the idea out on my mom. As any good mother would, she smiled and told me I'd be great. And of course, I believed her.

From there the seed of this idea only grew as I began to both internally process the idea and to test it out on people I knew and trusted. If they thought I could do it...maybe I really could. Each time I bashfully shared my idea, I continued to receive positive and enthusiastic feedback. Everyone seemed to be saying to me, "Well, duh!" Slowly I grew enough confidence to finally be able to say, "I want to be a teacher when I grow up*."

Now when I share this news, most people assume I will be a math teacher, either because they know that is precisely what my brother does (and let me tell you - when I told him my intention to be a teacher, the pride in his voice nearly melted my heart) or because they know I have a secret love affair with number crunching and Excel, I don't know. But instead I have chosen English as my intended course of study. Usually this results in several nods of understanding, something akin to "Ah, yes - I should've known."

So now I'm pointing my footsteps toward the long path of graduate school and a master's degree. I find myself telling people something I had never, even the slightest intention of ever saying: "Actually, I've decided to go back to school..."

I won't tell you that some days aren't still filled with frustration as I lack any and all control over my current circumstances, or that I don't miss the independence of "the old days," or that I'm not sick of wearing the same limited wardrobe, but at the end of the day I know this chapter of displacement will be worth it. I finally know where I'm going and for the first time, I'm excited to get there. And I figure that's a good thing. "The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step**," so my plan is to just keep putting one foot in front of the other.

*Unless of course the Mariners offer me a job other than peanut concessions; then I'll do that instead.

**Lao Tzu

Hawk Fan Update

Guess what I found in the boys section at Value Village for $2.99?? That's right baby, I'm legit.


Alexander may not be my favorite player ever (if memory serves, he left the Seahawks as a bit of a whiny baby), but he pretty much served his entire career here and if I'm not mistaken, had an absolutely redonkulous amount of running yards during his Seattle tour. Plus, he was a pretty awesome dude. I'll take it. (And dream of a Tatupu or Houz jersey in days to come...)

In my pursuit to be a more educated Hawks fan I discovered two blogs - perhaps you too will find them worth your time (can also be found on the sidebar under Sports Blogs):

The first is the Times blog: http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/seahawksblog/index.html. I don't have high hopes for this one other than as a reliable source for Seahawks related news. I doubt the analytics will be worth shaking a stick at. I read the equivalent blog for the M's and it serves its purpose.

The second looks like it may have potential for actual thoughtful output. At least, that's his self-proclaimed reason for existence, so one can only hope. Plus, he actually references statistics. Hot dog!! http://hawkblogger.blogspot.com/

Lastly, as my brother was kind enough to point out in the comments of the previous Seahawks post, "offsides" only refers to when the defense crosses the line of scrimmage prematurely. It's a false start when the offense does it. Same action, different term. Got it.

See? It's stuff like this you guys gotta tell me so I don't sound like an idiot. Thanks Mark. Don't worry, we can all learn how to love football together. :)

Second Annual Champoux Cribbage Tourny

Note: Yes, this is terrifically overdue; get over it and enjoy!

As May rolled around, it was time again for the Second Annual Champoux Family Cribbage Tournament (we really need a shorter name for that, seriously). A tradition unknowingly born long ago in the Champoux family, it’s a day of camaraderie, competition, and cribbage. If you’re a semi-regular reader of this blog, you may recall that at last year’s competition, I walked away as the first ever Cribbage Champ (woo hoo!). So this year as we gathered again, it was my responsibility to not only defend the title, but also to host the main event. Now, seeing as I don’t (in the most technical sense) actually have a place to live (let alone host the dang thing) it was necessary for me to call in the reinforcements: Papa Poux and Bonus Mom. Fortunately, they are two of the most generous people I know and were only too happy to open their house for the day.

So with that minor detail reconciled, I sounded the horns (if you will) beckoning all Champouxs near and far to heed the call and commemorate the passing of our beloved patriarch and matriarch (22 and 2 years ago, respectively). All in all we had 24 players answer the call to come and compete for their share of family fame. Really it was quite a good turnout – several families from the east-side of the mountains made it and even some out of staters!

I adopted a few minor changes this year in an effort to a) keep people involved a little longer and b) to shorten the length of the event (all in all I think it took nearly 12 hours last year…yikes.) So instead of round robin play to establish seeding, followed by a best of three match-up (winner moves on, loser is eliminated), we decided on single game match ups with double elimination. That meant there would be both a winner’s bracket and a loser’s bracket. (So you’re tellin’ me there’s a chance…)

With 24 players to start, the first round would narrow it to 12 players; the second round leaving us with 6; and the third round with only 3 players left in contention in each bracket. The winner’s bracket at this point took a break, while the losers bracket played a game of three-hand, sudden death cribbage. The winner of this game would join the remaining three from the winners bracket and comprise our final four. From here play would commence as you might expect until only one player remains.

So after a good solid hour of socializing (and waiting for our final players to arrive…) we finally divvied up crib boards and playing cards and each of us began the seemingly monstrous task of winning 5 games in a row to claim the coveted trophy as our own.

My first match-up was against Maddie Bradshaw, who, though still being in grade school, is quite the little card player. Despite her onslaught of 15-point hand after 15-point hand, I was just scrappy enough to keep up. Unfortunately, shortly after we rounded the skunk line, she straight up laid down a 25-point hand and I said good-night. After the first round, I was in the loser’s bracket. It was going to be a long road to victory alright….

Despite being in the loser’s bracket, I cruised through the next three rounds defeating Monica, Cristy, and Jackie to take my place as one of the final three “losers” fighting for a place in the final four. I soon learned that Uncle Joe and Pete Bradshaw were my fellow competitors and we immediately set to work. What followed was probably one of the most intense games of my life. The three of us each desperately trying to eke out a lead, pegging as many points as possible, hoping to find our peg out in front come the finish line. Would you believe it came down to the final card? The three of us were all clustered right near the stink hole, with one card left in our hand. Each of us had the potential to peg the final point to victory. Who would it be?? Let me tell you, it was intensity in ten cities. When all the cards had been laid, it was Pete who was able to claim that final, victorious point and with it a chance at ultimate victory. I was sad to see my hopes of winning for the second year in a row finally snuffed, but I couldn’t have asked for a more exciting ending. If I was going out, that was how I wanted it to be.

Due to an earlier forfeit, the bracket was slightly skewed, so it turned out Pete had one final match up to play, before the final four was determined. Unfortunately for Pete, that one last game put an end to his winning streak and he opponent Jeff claimed the final seat in the final four. We drew names to determine the matches and it was set for Katy Jo to face Jeff and for Mark to battle my dad. I was pleased to see such a strong representation by my immediate family, but since they were facing each other, I hardly knew who to root for!

In the end, it came down to Katy Jo and Mark. Interestingly enough, this was an opposite sex mirror image of last year’s championship match between Billy and myself. (For those readers who don’t have our family tree memorized, Katy Jo is Billy’s sister and Mark is my brother.) Somehow, the whole thing seemed perfectly balanced.

Both players had great momentum heading into the final match – Katy Jo had been playing great all day, redeeming herself from an early elimination last year. Mark too had confidence on his side as he had skunked nearly every one of his competitors. The game began close, with the characteristic swapping of the lead that is common early in the first few hands of cribbage. However, Mark slowly began to edge out a lead until just after he passed the skunk line, when he laid down a monster (insert a Russian accented John Malcovitch voice here). For the second time that night Mark had managed a 20 point hand with trip 7s and two Aces*. Victory was undoubtedly his.

Even though it was inevitable that a family member was going to win, I have to admit, I was particularly proud that the champion was still within the immediate family. Congratulations Mark – you certainly earned it!!

All in all, it was another extremely successful Tournament. The easy socializing, the constant grazing over the seemingly infinite plates of food, the frequent rumble the laughter from the uncles in another room…it was the kind of day I will always associate with family and I can’t think of a better way to honor our grandparents.

*He cut for the second Ace, in case you were wondering.

In Other (Hawks-related) News...

On Sunday I had the opportunity to attend my first ever regular season Seahawks game. I know, it's a little weird that a sports fan such as myself waited until I was 28 to experience this particular display of athleticism, but it's true. While I watched football growing up, we just hadn't the gumption to go to any games. Frankly, I suppose it's mostly because it's so much more expensive than a baseball game, but whatever. So when my dad asked me if I'd like to go, I was more than happy to oblige.

Pre-Game Notes:
Now I can't say I was overly emotive (the truth is I have been to a pre-season 'Hawks game before), but I was still looking forward to it. I knew that Sunday's game wouldn't be drastically different from my previous experience, but in the same way that spring training for the M's is fun yet meaningless, so was that pre-season game. This time is was real. This time something was legitimately on the line. The fans know it. The team knows it. The city knows it. And I'm here to tell you, it makes a difference.

Now since I've been faithfully following the M's and keeping an eye on the post-season, I hadn't been paying one lick of attention to the Seahawks. Actually, that's not completely true: I watched the first game of the season in Cle Elum during a faux grape stomp event when the 'Hawks shut-out the Rams on opening day. So I guess technically I've paid exactly one lick of attention. But you get my point - I hadn't really been following their season. I was doing the equivalent of walking into the living room 20 minutes into a movie. I'd seen the preview and knew the basic plot, but I was missing the details needed to understand the current scene in context.

So Dad brought me up to speed by indicating that the Seahawks had gone 1-1 in their first two games, wherein Matt Hasselbeck (the quarterback) went down with a broken rib. He'd been out for a couple games and in that time the 'Hawks hadn't pulled a win (yikes). But today was his first game back (yay!) but if we didn't win, Seattle could pretty much say good-bye to the post-season already (eke!). Today we were playing the Jags, who were supposedly pretty good and picked to win. A grim start to Seattle's story this year, I must say. But I was along for the ride, win or lose. For the next three hours, the 'Hawks were my team and I'd give 'em all I've got as a fan, cheering and booing with the best of 'em.

Game Time:
You'd think that being a sports fan is a pretty straight forward task. Cheer for your team, boo crappy calls, high-five your neighbor in a display of general good will when the team scores...straight forward, right? Turns out that being a football fan is a whole different animal. In fact, it felt so drastically different to me, that for a split-second I considered going back to school to be a psych major just so I could study the phenomenon of different sports cultures (but then I remembered that I'd actually hate that and was free to just wonder about it on my own, so I'll commence doing that now.)

To start with, football fans are not kidding around about their fandom. In fact, I felt pretty lame since I was about the only person in the stadium (or within a quarter-mile radius, for that matter) that wasn't wearing a jersey, hadn't painted my face and/or facial hair, or had at least two pieces of other Seahawks paraphernalia (scarves, gloves, ponchos, pom-poms...you name it). To me this implies that the fans are more committed in general. You simply don't see this for baseball games. People wear M's gear, but...this was a whole other realm than simply "wearing gear." People were tail-gaiting in the parking lots, screaming "go hawks!" every few seconds, and shoving each other around in that way jocks do as part of the ritualistic preparation for competition. These people were invested in and had a real passion for their team. I get that. In fact, I love that.

Once we were inside I saw even more unspoken rules of Seahawk fandom. For one, people sat in their seats and stayed there. There was no up-and-down-every-five-seconds-is-that-the-peanut-man-I-need-a-shish-ka-berry-what-just-happened? attitude here. People set up camp in their seats and they pay attention. In fact, fans pay such rapt attention, they consider it their duty to participate in the game. They do so by cheering as loud as possible and as long as possible whenever the visiting team is preparing to snap the ball. The idea being that by creating so much noise, they can induce an off-sides penalty by preventing the visiting team from hearing the quarterback count clearly and accidentally take off too early - muahhahha! I know it sounds a little silly, but it totally works. I am proud to say I partook in the noise that resulted in the 85th visiting team off-sides penalty at Qwest Field. (Which is the MOST visiting team off-sides calls in the NFL, by the way.) Go 12th man!! What gets me about the whole thing though is not that fans do it, but that the players on the field beckon for it. In baseball, it takes an extraordinary play and a standing ovation curtain call before a player usually acknowledges the crowd. In football, the fans and the players have a regular relationship. The 12th man in no joke, my friend.

Now granted, football is a much faster paced game, so it is by definition necessary/easier for fans to pay closer attention, but even so, should something NOT be happening - the NFL doesn't leave the fan to fend for his or her own entertainment. Between the big screen replays, the booming overhead voice recapping every play, and the bountiful cheerleaders (which are extremely distracting, by the way. I learned from my pre-season experience not to even glance at them otherwise the entire game had gone by and all I could tell you about it was that the cheerleaders wore three different outfits (but the same shoes!), they rotate corners of the stadium every quarter, and they don't actually do a lot of dancing....Seriously, they're mesmerizing), a football fan is never left wanting for entertainment. In this capacity, it is the perfect game for Americans and our every decreasing attention spans. (Which is actually kind of sad, in my opinion. But that's neither here nor there.)

Post-Game Analysis:
Even with nonstop action/entertainment (2 field goals, 4 touch downs, and 2 fumble-recovery-TDs, six 3rd down conversions, and 2 QB sacks) and a 41-0 Seahawks win (yahooooo!), as an educated baseball fan, I found myself craving more stats. The team offense and defense numbers are posted around the stadium (basic team yardage, pass completions, sacks, etc.) but the more I learned about our team, the more I wanted to know. Where are the real stats??

Apparently we've suffered quite a few injuries this year, so we have some second-stringers getting significant playing time. Well, how good are they? And I don't just mean, Mr. So-and-so's opinion, or how they ranked in college. How do they compare to the hurt player? Are they better or worse than a typical league average replacement player? By how much? Where the heck are my Win Above Replacement values?! Are players over-performing or playing to their true talent level? Will players regress to the mean, or can they simply not cut it at this level of play? What about our offense - what plays have been statistically the most successful? How about sucky? Stats, stats, stats, stats, stats, stats, stats, stats! I want real, meaningful, analytical stats!! Are there any Seahawks football bloggers out there...?? Can I get a what-what? Anyone...? Bueller...?

Okay, so I might be trying to eke some of my baseball enjoyment out of football, but regardless, I still had a really great time. In fact just before half-time, I leaned over and said to my dad, "I'd be a much better 'Hawks fan if their season didn't start during the M's season. It forces me to come late to the party. Someone should really look into that." :)

I may be late, but I'm here and I'm ready to party. There are 11 games left in the regular season: Seahawks, you've just earned yourself one more fan, baby!

Mom's Surgery: Update

My mom's open heart surgery was postponed because she has a cold :( That disappointing and hard to hear because we were all ready to just deal with it, move on, and work toward her feeling better all the time. It's pretty discouraging, but we'll trudge through and go through the whole rigmarole again at the end of the month. Stay tuned...

In the mean time, thanks for your prayers!!

A Quickie Update:

I've been busy, busy, busy lately as my two week temp assignment stretched into six, my bonus mom had reconstructive surgery, I found a new hair dresser (yay!), I had my 10-year high school reunion, the Mariner's finished off an emotional season with a big (albeit, insignificant) win, and I finally figured out what what I want to do with my life (and it's good too!). Oh and next week - my mom is going in for open-heart surgery. Yes: Open. Heart. (Prayers please.)

So with all this care-taking I'll be doing (bonus mom this week; mom next week and beyond...) and no temp job sucking up my time, I may (MAY!) actually have some time to breathe. My goal is to catch up on some posts (both of the relevant-to-my-life as well as the having-no-actual-point-other-than-I-was-thinking-about-it varieties). But we'll see.

In other news, didja see Carrie's new video yet? *Sigh* I wish I could be Carrie when I grow up.

Mama Quilt #5: Kristen Mauss

My most recently completed mama quilt was, I think, the most difficult. Going in, I didn't anticipate this fact at all. Kristen is one of my oldest friends; in fact, she was my very first friend at Western. We lived on the same floor, five doors away. After my first college class ever, I headed back to my room and along the way I came across her open door. I popped my head in, we chatted for a bit, and I decided I liked her. Since college is all about turning over a new leaf, I promptly said, "Would you like to be friends?" No sense in beating around the bush right? She laughed and agreed and we've been friends ever since.

If I had to describe Kristen Mauss as a literary character, without doubt or hesitation, I would tell you she is Jane Bennett, the elder sister of Miss Elizabeth Bennett from Pride & Prejudice. She is kind and gentle and hands-down the easiest person in the world to be with. I've never heard her speak ill of another person (just like Jane) and she is rarely, if ever, frustrated to the point of exasperation (quite unlike myself). She is a friend in any and all circumstances (not to mention with just about everyone) and no matter how long it has been since you've spent time with Kristen, you can always pick up just where you left off. There is simply no better quality of friend.

But the trouble was, how to express all these lovely qualities in a quilt? That was a stumper. Such a stumper, in fact, that I started an entire quilt, got almost the whole top done, then dumped it and decided to start over. It simply wasn't right. It was a beautiful light turquoise-y pool-ish color, and I liked that, but the design and other fabrics were all wrong, wrong, wrong. So, I stuck with pool as the main color (mostly because Kristen told me she really liked that color and wanted it to be said color) but instead of pairing it with soft, subtle colors to compliment the pool, I decided to juxtapose it with several bold, funky, and interesting fabrics. Thus the companion fabrics don't all necessarily go together, but they DO create an interesting contrast to and pairing with the pool.

In this quilt, Kristen is the pool fabric; the backbone of the quilt and the foundation of the design. She meets each and every person (fabric) exactly as they are and creates a complimentary palette. She draws out what is beautiful in each fabric and together they make a fabulous design. The pattern is steadfast and consistent, but the effect is surprising and delightful as it draws your eye from block to block, throughout the whole quilt. It's trendy and bright, yet patient and warm.

I'm not as confident that the final result feels as Kristen and I thought Holly's quilt felt Holly...but I'm pretty sure I still got it right (and Andi told me she felt it was very Kristen, so I'm going to go with that). My only real hope is that Kristen loves it and knows just how much I love her.

I don't always name my quilts, but if I had to give this one a title, I'd call it "The Jane Bennett" in honor of Kristen.

Attention Carrie Fans!

New Album comes out on November 3!! New single (Cowboy Cassanova) is already out - SO GOOD!

Can't talk. Too excited! Listen for yourselves: http://www.carrieunderwoodofficial.com/

(Man she's awesome.)

Stay tuned for an album review in early November.

Mama Quilt #4: Holly Bedient

Note: I'm actually quite behind on my mama quilt posts, but better late than never, eh?

Mrs. Holly Bedient was the inspiration and recipient of my fourth mama quilt project. I was particularly excited to tackle Holly's quilt because she is so gregarious and bold I knew I had a real opportunity to be creative in my attempt to express her personality visually.

Generally speaking, Holly is pretty clear about what she does and doesn't like. She's a passionate and expressive person. (If you don't believe me, just ask her how she feels about Best Buy...) So for my purposes, this simplified things considerably. Hands down her favorite color is green and pairing it with brown was simply a no-brainer. That was an easy place to start. Then, as I sat and brainstormed about how I wanted to express the essence Holly, I thought about how I admired her gumption. She is simply not intimidated to try something new, to tackle a project (especially if it involves manly tools) or to wield some competitive challenge. I love that! She inspires me to try new things and to be unconcerned with failure. Just go for it!

Therefore, I felt like I had permission to break the rules and try something new. This translated into the pattern for the quilt. Originally I had chosen a diagonal stripe pattern, but as I was laying out the blocks, it felt all wrong to me. It wasn't brave; it was too orderly and safe. I nearly chucked the whole thing, but instead I rearranged the pieces until I had come up with a completely new design. I was quite satisfied (tickled even!) with the final product as it extended beyond the normal boundaries of the pattern and extended into the quilts boarder. Talk about a rule breaker!

My last comment speaks to the feeling of the quilt. I chose the fabrics for the quilt based simply on if they felt Holly enough to me. This exasperated my mother to no end. I walked up and down the aisles and aisles of fabric trying to hone in on what "felt Holly" to me. I initially found a couple right off the bat, but as my mom tried to help me find companion fabrics, I continuously rejected them saying, "Yeah...I guess that goes with the others, but it just doesn't feel right to me." My poor mom. But she hung in there with me and eventually I found what I was looking for and that satisfied my Holly vibe. The only trouble was, most of them were centerpiece fabrics - something you could build a whole quilt around. When you put them all together...it was a little chaotic. This troubled me at first, but I decided it simply couldn't be helped. These fabrics were all Holly and I was just going to have to find a way to get them all to compromise.

In the end, I think the design I came up with does a perfect job of bringing all the Holly-ness into an accurate picture of Holly. It's bright, it's bold, and yes, it's a little chaotic. But the chaos is reigned in and contained into something absolutely beautiful. And to me, that perfectly describes Holly: controlled chaos. I don't think you could successfully pull together this quilt with another combination of fabrics; it's one of a kind, just like my girl. ;)

So for your exclusive viewing pleasure, I give you Controlled Chaos, as inspired by Holly Bedient.


P.S. - In case you're wondering, Holly successfully delivered an adorable baby boy, William (Will) Bedient. Seriously, so cute. He's even got dimples. Way to go Mrs. B!

Towards Nighttime

It was brought to my attention earlier this week (and by a cop, no less) that my tabs were long expired. So needless to say, I decided to make haste in renewing those puppies. Since government offices are only open within the confines of a banker's work day, and since I am currently on a temp assignment in downtown Seattle, it was necessary for me to dedicate my lunch hour to the task.

So yesterday I sucked it up and walked the 0.7 miles to the nearest licensing office to pick up my new plates and tabs. As I walked in, a sigh escaped my lips: the line was already several people deep. There goes my lunch hour. Oh well, I'd forgotten my book today anyway. Immediately my eyes flicked around the room for a source of distraction from the tediously long line. I settled on an ugly piece of surreal art and I began reading the text beside it. It was a poem. The first line read:

My sister told me she was going to sleep.

Immediately I experienced a jolt of recognition. I know those words...but from where? I read the second line and was even more convinced I knew this poem.

She makes it sound like a place,

Something about it was so familiar...I didn't have the patience to read the whole thing and solve the mystery myself, so I skipped to the end in search of the author's name. Sure enough there it was: Matt Metsker*.

Suddenly I recognized the trippy art poster and recalled that in high school, Matt's poem was published on the sides of buses all over the city. I'm not sure why it's now posted (and framed!) in the downtown Seattle DOL, but no matter; it was a delightful discovery anyway.

If I've read that poem once, I've probably read it a hundred times. That same poster proudly hangs on the wall at Matt's parents house. Reading it again now, made me think of freshman year of college when I first met Matt and slapped eyes on that poem. I remember thinking he was tall, but not lanky, clean-shaven and baby-faced, and blind as a bat without his glasses. But mostly, easy to talk to. That has always been what I liked best about Matt; he's easy to talk to.

Bumping into Matt's poem at the DOL was like running into a familiar face out of context. It was fun to see it again and revisit old times, but even before parting, I knew we were different; I could see we had each changed. But that's the funny thing about a poem, it doesn't change. I suppose it's me then, who has done the changing. And I suppose too, that's a good thing.

At first, I liked Matt's poem. I remember thinking, "I wish I had thought to define sleep as a destination like that; it's so clever!" Now I read it with far more objective eyes, as a piece of writing rather than a friend's poem. And truthfully, I'm now more impressed that an 18 year old kid wrote it. Then, it seemed perfectly reasonable. Now, 18 sounds like a baby.

I'm not going to critque or review Matt's poem other than to say I enjoy it immensely. There's something about it that makes me want to tuck it into my pocket for later. Matt's writing often used to make me feel that way and I'm surprised to see that it still does. Must have a lasting quality to it somehow. I'm not sure if Matt is still penning his creative inklings, but as a reader, I sincerely hope so.

Therefore, in celebration of it's 10 year publication anniversary (and to commemorate my stumbling upon it so unceremoniously yesterday) here it is, in its entirety, for your reading pleasure (published here without author permission...but I'm pretty sure he won't mind).

Towards Nighttime
By, Matt Metsker

My sister told me she was going to sleep.
She makes it sound like a
place,
as if she'll go there and return in the morning.
If sleep is a
place, it must be a place
where everything fits.
In Sleep, I bet all the stoplights turn green
and there are never any awkward silences.

*If this statement garners no reaction from you, then you probably have no idea who Matt is. Hopefully you have guessed by this point, that I do. Matt and I were very good friends and eventually dated in college. It's been several years since we split up, but we're still on friendly terms.

Faux Grape Stomp Preparation

Since Uncle Paul is still recovering from the West Nile Virus (which he got from a mosquito bite, btw...uhm, Deet, anyone??) Grape Stomp 2009 has been canceled. But this certainly hasn't dampened our enthusiasm! We've simply planned a replacement event to tide us over until next year.

So, since it's nearly that time again, I thought I'd get the mood going and kick off the event with a look at everyone's favorite grape stomping lady (who is definitely worth repeated viewings):

Word of the Day

I stumbled across this new (to me) word, so I thought I'd share:

Ineffable: incapable of being expressed or described in words; inexpressible: ineffable joy.

At first blush I thought, what a totally cool new word. I'm going to keep that one in my back pocket for future reference. But now, after a bit of thought, I have realized this word is irony incarnate; it's a word used to describe the undescribable.

Isn't that great? Try and use it in a sentence today.

...and Pancake-y Too

I saw this YouTube video on the local news (of all things - I know, weird) and I enjoyed it so much, I've watched it at least nine times. You've got to appreciate a couple who can laugh at themselves, even on their wedding day. It's only one minute and thirty-seven seconds long - watch it. Plus, her laughter is infectious.



(Did you catch The Princess Bride quote reference at the end?? LOVE IT!!!)

I Always Wanted to Say That

So as it turns out, I have this uncanny knack for remembering movie lines and reciting them within the context of everyday conversations. Sometimes they're extremely quotable lines and most any moron would recognize it. Sometimes they're so obscure that if it goes unrecognized, I don't bother to point out that what I've just said isn't actually an original thought. I figure, if you're not savvy enough to know I didn't come up with it, well then, chalk one point up on the board for me, baby. It's the same principle behind explaining the punchline of a joke...if I have to tell you I just performed an incredible feat of verbal gymnastics, it somehow deflates the whole concept and sucks the fun right out of it. You either get it, or you don't. There is no in between. In most cases this leaves people under the mistaken impression that I'm clever. Whether it's due to attributing movie lines to my own particular brand of wittiness or because they're impressed with my ability to work in a quote...well, that remains to be seen. In either case, it tickles me tremendously. But other than an inflation of my own sense of ego, it rarely amounts to anything.

Having said that, if you've seen the movie Lucky Number Slevin and you have a decent memory, then this little anecdote might be somewhat meaningful to you. If not, well then, like the book shop owner in my little story here, the significance will be completely lost on you (sorry about that).

So the other day I was on a hunt for one of the Stephanie Plum novels (which I'm currently re-reading, see side bar) and in an effort to save time, I decided to call a few used book stores to shop around first. I got lucky on my first call and had the store set the book aside and told the dude I'd come by to get it some time that day.

As promised, I showed up to the store a few hours later and the proprietor was chatting with a customer. Since I knew he already had my book behind the counter and their conversation seemed deeper than a simple inquiry, I thought I'd browse in another section for a bit instead of immediately interrupting. But that got boring after about 30 seconds, so I reconsidered and decided that interrupting was the way to go. Really, I just wanted to get my hot little hands on the next Plum book and get on with it (I'm in the middle of a series here people!). Turns out a little meaningful lingering near their conversation did the trick and, as expected, the store-owner asked me if I needed any help.

"Oh, yes, umm, I'm the one who called earlier about the Stephanie Plum book...." I said.

"Oh, that was you?" He said with a smirk, "You sounded much taller on the phone."

I smiled to myself, already knowing the perfect response, and without missing a beat I said, "Well, I'm short for my height."

A tickled sense of satisfaction bloomed in my belly. I didn't think I would ever be set up so perfectly as to use that one in a real, on-the-fly conversation. I was quite pleased with myself for coming up with it and delivering it right on cue. I felt like I'd just passed a pop quiz with flying colors. I was beaming. It really gives you a comforting sense of satisfaction to discover you're prepared.

Too bad it was wasted on an overweight, mid-50s, slightly creepy bookstore owner in downtown Kent who has no idea I've just pulled one over on him, instead of some hunky stud with rock hard abs and dreamy eyes who immediately recognizes the quote and gives me a slightly surprised yet intriguing look. Sigh. No, no. That would be the beginning of some adorable chance meeting in a romantic comedy. This is just my crummy real life.

At least I got to use a Lucy Liu line though. That was pretty cool. And the book store dude things I'm funny...so that's a something.

High Fivin' White Guy

Last weekend while in Bellingham, I had kind of a kooky experience. I wasn't feeling particularly worky-outy, but I didn't have any major plans (read: I was planning on sitting on my butt and reading the whole day) so I figured since it was a nice day and all, I might as well at least pretend that I was making an effort to be fit and get a short run in. Actually, I talked myself into this gig by only guaranteeing that I'd go on a walk. Walking is better than nothing, right? But once I got my sneaks laced up and my ipod clipped to my hip, I thought I could muster the energy for a run (read: jog), so I headed out on the interurban trail toward the Alabama bridge at a pretty decent clip (read: faster than walking).

For feeling lazy and unenthused, I actually made a pretty decent go of it. I think it's about two miles from Andi's house (where I was staying) to the bridge. I ran (jogged) 95% of the way there and was feeling completely satisfied with the effort. Once I was at the bridge I caught my breath and did a number of strength building exercises; one-legged squats, lunges, etc. (I promise this story has a more interesting point and I'm not just talkin' up my half-assed workout.)

In reality, I was pretty pooped by this point. I felt the beginnings of a cold coming on and I wasn't highly motivated to really push myself, so I told myself I only had to run (jog) from the bridge to the train trestle. I'd guess this was somewhere between half a mile and a mile from the bridge. The thing about it though, is that it looks deceptively short. From the bridge there is a long straight stretch, followed by one corner, and then the trestle. In my mind's eye, it's only a minute or two away. In reality, the straight stretch is pretty darn long as it takes at least a whole song length to run (jog) it.

Nevertheless, this was the deal I made with myself: run to the trestle, then you can walk the rest of the way home. So I took a deep breath and took off from the bridge. Immediately I saw the flaw in my logic, as I didn't really have the energy to run (jog) another step and I already wanted to stop, but I'm actually pretty stubborn when it comes right down to it and darned if I was going to back out of my deal with myself (how could I face myself later?). So I did my best to trudge on.

By this time it was getting to be early afternoon and I was seeing more and more people on the trail. Generally when I'm out running (jogging), I try to make eye-contact with people and smile or say hi. Especially in Bellingham. There are so many less crazy-eyed locos and so many more genuinely normal people.

Today was no exception and I was doing my best to do my civic duty as I slogged my way toward my goal. About half-way down the never-ending straight stretch, I observed a young guy on a dirt bike heading toward me. (I say "young guy" meaning, I have no idea how old he was, only that he was over 15 and less than 30. It seems that as I age, I am losing what little ability I possessed to accurately age other people. Go figure.) In any case, you know the type I'm talking about, right? Backwards baseball hat, brown hair sticking out all wonky, white t-shirt, oversized shorts, seat riding super low so that his knees practically come up to his chin, kind of like a toddler on a trike....can you picture it? So I had already done my first observatory glance and I was preparing to time my eye-contact to just before we passed in order to give him my obligatory grimace smile/head nod of acknowledgment when out of the corner of my eye, I see him extend his arm across the neutral zone of the trail, over to my side, and present his palm face out toward me.

If you know me at all, you know that all my emotions register across my face before I can do anything about it. My thought in that moment went something like this, "What the heck...?? Ohh. No, I'm not gonna...well, (mental shrug) why not!" So in the .2 seconds it took for my brain to recognize the gesture as a pro-offering of a high five, I'm sure this guy saw confusion, recognition, rejection, and finally a cautious acceptance of what I saw before me (or at least, he would've if he were paying attention, which he probably wasn't). So a split second later, I too extended my hand and connected with his palm in a respectable sounding high five.

I smiled as soon as it happened. (How could I not?) It hadn't been one of those perfect high-fives where your hands connect just right to get the really good snapping clap sound, but it hadn't been one of those lame, barely make contact, do we need to try it again? gestures either. Suddenly, I felt motivated and like I was doing a good job on my run (jog). I was a part of a greater team! I was young and healthy and taking advantage of the trail system! I was alive and free, who wouldn't want to be me? (Okay, so maybe Keith Urban might've randomly come up on my ipod right about then, but still). It was cheesy and stupid, but it was true. I felt great! Before I knew it, I was at the train trestle so I slowed to a walk, but I could still feel a big, toothy grin plastered to my face and a slight bounce in my step.

But why the heck had he done that? Was I looking so red and puffy-faced that he thought, man, that girl needs some help? Or perhaps he's just a rogue high-fiver making the world a better place one high five at a time? Maybe he's just über high-five happy and slaps some skin anytime he gets the chance? Perhaps it was a divine appointment and the Lord knew I just really needed the giddy-up? Maybe I just look like a high-fivin' kind of girl? Honestly, I don't know. I turned to see if I could still see the dude - I was half tempted to flag him down, tell him thanks, and give him the third degree about it - but he was long gone (being that his mode of transportation was significantly faster than mine, this was no surprise really). So I just shook my head in wonder thinking, well if that wasn't the darnedest thing!

I thought about it almost the entire way home (that is, until I got close enough to Andi's house to consider what kind of sugary, baked goods would be waiting for me in the fridge) and darned if I could figure it out. I have no idea what motivated that guy to give me a high five, but whatever his intentions, it left me feeling like the world was a slightly better place. And at the end of that day, I gotta believe that's a good thing. So perhaps the next time you're out and about and you see someone who looks like they need it - give 'em a high five. What's the worst that could happen?

Who Cares?

If you've been wondering what the heck I've been doing and if I'd ever blog again, you're not the only one. It's no coincidence that I've dropped off the face of the blogosphere. The truth is, there's not much to tell. Once home from the excitement of my sojourn to Italy, I suddenly became a wee bit self-conscious about blogging; who the heck cares about my thoughts now that life has resumed an inordinate amount of mundanity*? I've had nothing to tell you; no job to speak of (although, not for lack of trying), no new romance, not even a true place to live! Life with my extremely friendly and exorbantly nap-prone cat at my mom's house hasn't been any particular hardship, but it seemed unsatisfactory material to share with the world. Suddenly, I was gun shy: I had lost my confidence. Because really, why would anyone be interested? Who the heck cares?

Eventually, I did come across a few "blog worthy" events, but I just couldn't bring myself to post about them. I knew that if I gave it a go, it would only be a half-assed effort and, like it or not, I'm an all-or-nothing kind of girl. Needless to say, you readers (if there still are any) have been given a big fat dose of Nothing.

But at the end of the day...I really missed it. I wanted to be writing; sharing my (supposed) wit and (hopfully) clever stories with the world. But I was no longer sure how to do it. It felt like an unsurmountable obstacle, how could I possibly write anything interesting now? Especially when I'm convinced I'm a) uninteresting, b) at a complete loss for material and c) sure that no one is listening anyway (because who wants to write if no one is listening?).

But I've come to realize that none of those things make one lick of difference. Who cares! Who cares! is right. It doesn't matter if I'm uninteresting, have no real content, and no one is reading what I type - that is the whole point! I've been given free reign to write as much (or as little) as I want and instead of sulking about my so-called "hardships," I'm going to seize that freedom with both hands. Writing ought to be for my own explicit satisfaction. So now, I'm going to write because I enjoy writing! If others care to follow along with me, well then, please do. This is intended as a forum of sharing so I plan to do just that.

The truth is, the only real obstacle up to this point has been my own deluded, non-linear form of thinking I often mistakenly term "logic." Because the thing is, more often than not, I make up and apply a million different rules and sets of criteria that I force myself to follow (thinking this will of course make life better/easier/more enjoyable), but in reality it makes life more difficult/a pain in the arse/disproportinately stressful. Why, you ask, do I do this? I know. Perhaps it's simply where I fall short as a Stabilizer. I can recognize patterns, but fail to apply a useful or appropriately named rule to the patterns. Or perhaps I've just been doing way too much internal processing and I need to get out and talk to real people more often. Either way. (Insert shrug here.)

The fact of the matter is I'm no longer defining success as simply entertaining you the reader (though, admittedly, it's still a priority). Instead success will be the art of craftily breaking my own self-imposed invisible rules. Success will be reminding myself to take risks and try something different. Success will be disciplining myself to write more often and become a better writer. I felt as though I had gained quite a bit of ground in this area while on my sojourn, but I've come to realize I'm looking at a 4th and long scenario instead of 1st and goal. (Insert sigh here.)

Fortunately, I'm a tenacious and incurable optimist! :D

So who cares? Turns out, I do. And maybe you too. But either way, I'm going to write for the fun of it. I'm going to write because I like it. I'm going to write to improve myself and (hopefully) become a better writer. I hope you enjoy it, but if you don't...who cares?

*Yes, I totally just made that a word; roll with it people.