A mere slap on the wrist, but I was reprimanded today.  Not in a totally bad way. Guess I made it 12 weeks before getting that sort of reprimand.

Received another one a few weeks ago for a similar thing, from a different person, probably one who was carrying out orders.

I don’t know why I’m so upset by it. But I’m really upset. How much does this really reflect on me? How much does it really affect me?  In the big scheme, as well as the little one.

There’s a meeting tomorrow that I think I’m supposed to be more prepared for, yet I have no f*cking clue what is going on. I’m not prepared. I’ll probably get in trouble for that, too.

I can’t take reading any more freaking articles! I have a huge pile to read already. (JB–that’s not to you; those I have more of a choice and desire to read).

“Here, read this by Wednesday. Be ready to discuss,” “You need to find an article to read by next month and distribute it out.  Be ready to discuss.”

Not sure what slaps I’ll receive for not finding the second articles mentioned here. It’s sometimes hard to care. Learning community. I get it. I do. Always good to learn more. All that. Makes sense. Who am I letting down by not finding these other articles?

I’ll quit venting. Or not. You know I like to keep it private here, otherwise I’d go on.

You better believe after Thanksgiving, I’ll be taking a mental health day.

I started going through the pictures I have on my computer. I don’t have many, since it’s a new computer, so I was looking at FB and MS and flickr to find a few new pictures.  (What a time suck!)

I realized something. Generally speaking, when truly happy, I smile with my mouth open. I show teeth. When super happy, I’ll show my mouth, too. Like my teeth are even open. Sure, that’s not the case 100% of the time, but generally speaking, it seems true. (You better believe I’m looking through that shoe box as soon as I hit “publish.”)

I don’t remember the exact pictures, but I do remember what was going on in my life at the time.  Mostly. And it seems that when things were good, I bared my teeth like a goofy gorilla. Other times, something may have been wrong. Maybe on the surface, maybe deep down. Seems, though, that my last few pictures I’ve shown what I got. Cross-bite and all.

Here’s what I wrote in a letter to me on July 24, 2008, sent to me from the past, to July 24, 2009. (futureme.org). I won’t lie, I knew it would be coming soon, but had no idea what I had written.

Dear FutureMe,
It’s Thursday, July 24, 2008. You just took your first sock-knitting lesson. So far it’s going pretty well. Have you made more?

Lots of things are okay.
You’re just fine where you are.

——-

Okay, so I only made one pair of socks. I’ve done hats and scarves since then, but no more socks. Maybe I should get on that again. Those were fun. They were challenging and fun. Not that I’ll ever wear them, but I sure am proud of them!

YES! My house is awesome! I did lots of renovations this summer, and there are still lots more to do. I love my newly painted kitchen and accent wall.

I don’t do Johnson’s CSA anymore, but do Greenling about once a month. I’m loving it. Not necessarily because of that, but I have tried lots of new recipes in the past year.

I really worked on cultivating friendships over the past year or so. I worked on strenghtening the ones I wanted to keep, and let others fall to the wayside. Some slipped away that I should do better about keeping going.

As of this July (2009), hadn’t found “that special someone,” but have realized it doesn’t matter as much. I’ve got great friends and a great family.

I’ve lost and gained weight since last July. Same few pounds up and down, but I’m working out a lot. I’m working on eating more veggies. Most days I’m pretty okay with my body.  And you know what?  I am fine with where I am. … Damnit!

—-

I’m pondering sending another letter to myself. It’s a fun surprise to get a year later. I suggest you do it, too. Go to futureme.org and write yourself a letter!

When will I blog again? I think of things randomly that I’d like to say. I come home and don’t want (or don’t think to) write.  Now I’m engrossed in the last 15 minutes of Top Chef, and don’t want to write. I’ll be heading to bed straight away.

That’s all I really got.

Nothing.

This past week, I was with the fam. I’ve got blogs to write about that, but mostly I would say, “I am SO lucky. SO lucky. My family is amazing.” (On this side, all alive, all (mostly) healthy, all loving and caring)

I spent my time at one of my favorite aunt’s places. She’s an amazing woman. I think I’d like her even if we didn’t share blood. She takes her role as godmother very seriously.

Not long after I got home, I received this email (via FB) from her:

This morning G— & I were talking about how much we enjoyed having you at our house. G— said, “She seems happy.” And I agree, and I also believe that when you have tended your own garden of happiness, that is when other forms of happiness are free to enter your life. The love of your life is out there, J— coming closer to you every day. And in the meantime, you are happily living your own rich life.

Have a great day, my sweetie!

Pretty great, huh? But it made me sad, too. I don’t feel happy. Or maybe I did when I was there. When I was there, I was a million miles from home, in thought, word and deed. House problems? Didn’t worry about them. Those bills? Didn’t think once about them. I was so relaxed when I was there. Although surrounded by family, which can be stressful, I never once felt stressed. I think the most annoyed I got was when my mom couldn’t figure out the remote for the TV when she couldn’t find “What Not to Wear.”

I ate brats and beer and bad hamburgers (from Culver’s). I went to the movies. I drank beer, I sang karaoke. I shopped, I bought. I ate cinnamon rolls and peanut butter M&Ms. I oohe and awwed over G’s fireworks. I danced with a sparkler while my family doo-doo’ed a song. I pushed my cousin’s kid on a tire swing. I read and stayed up late and slept in and watched HGTV with my cousin. I marveled at only turning on the AC once while there. I ate pancakes and drank good coffee.

So after this email, I thought. Am I happy? Am I? Because I sure don’t feel it. Or maybe right now I don’t feel it. I didn’t when I got that email.

I thought, am I happy and don’t realize it? or
am I not happy and just good at faking it?
Am I faking it till I make (ing) it?

Life’s good in the summertime. Very little stress (although lots of heat!), lots of time to do nothing, which exactly what I’ve done.

I have my happy moments and my not happy moments, it ebbs and flows. But on a whole, am I? If I have to *ask* if I’m happy, how can I be?

I am working on my garden. I’m working on cultivating it. I’m working on figuring things out. And maybe that’s what this summer is all about–figuring things out. Or at least relaxing a lot on the way there.

In a few days I’ll be heading to a family reunion type of gathering. Both looking forward to it and not. Totally looking forward to  getting away from the heat. Weather forecast is about 20 degrees cooler than here. (I KNOW!!)

Luckily my family usually isn’t one to pull the “when are you getting married,” crap, so I’m lucky there. I did have a non-church-going boyfriend the last time I went up there. One aunt asked, “and how do we feel about that?” I commented that I don’t go much either, so it didn’t really bother me. Had a bit of a non-invasive, genuine and open discussion that didn’t last all that long. She’s one of my fave’s. (and she’s even married to a pastor).

All in all, my family is really cool. I really like them. Sure, there’s quirks, but mostly they’re all really cool. And there are enough other issues going on that the unmarried cousin doesn’t get that much negative attention. I think they think I can do no wrong. What little do they know!

Then there’s also these “standards” that I’m supposed to live up to. And I have to … I don’t know… mom expects me to act or be a certain way. In all reality? More of seen and not heard.  Don’t stir the pot, don’t shake the cradle,..whatever that is. And now that I think about it, that’s how “we all” are with grandpa. He’s the authoritarian (not in a super bad way. Like not in an abusive way), we listen. We don’t argue. Well, some of the kids (his daughters) do. We sure as heck don’t, that’s for sure.

Anyway, I know it’ll be a good trip. Small Town America and all. May give me fodder for future blogs, but I kinda hope not.

It’s late.

I should go to bed. But, really, why do I need to? Yes, I’ve got lots to do tomorrow, but really I could nap too, if I wanted. I’m helping B with packing, too (Hi, B!).

Oh, and the lots to do is stuff like visit Lowe’s, go to the grocery store (need to make a list!), Wally World… stuff like that. May or may not make some purchases, but do need to look at a few things. I have a lot of calls to make. Doctors and lawyers and such. Okay, really, just doctors of those two.

I need to go through that magazine pile and I need to put that stuff there. It’s late and I’m awake; I could work now. Could work on that list now. Well, some of it. Although open, I will not be going to Wally World at midnight. No, thanks.

Been home awhile now, but of course didn’t get working on that list, unless blogging and reading were on it.

Not much point to this blog. Just checking in. Got those creative juices flowing again and I need to do something with them.

Had another water dream.

There were lots of people there. Was like a reunion of sorts or something.

There was this big scary “thing” in the water. The main actor (b/c it wasn’t me, but it was like a movie) had to go get the thing–like a monkfish or something. The water was cloudy. As the thing swam toward our protagonist, I jerked big time, in the movie (as the camera person? as the protagonist? as me? in real life?) and woke myself up. I think I threw my hands in front of me to stop it or to scream or something.

Before I decided to leave my former job, but was very unhappy, I had lots of water dreams.

Water is in my dream a lot. Big oceans and seas and rivers and stuff, usually. One thought is that “water” is your subconscious. This water was icky, gross and scary last night.  I woke up, my heart pounding.

“It’s a grieving process.” I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard that in the past 2 years. And it is. And I’ve been through the same damn grieving process 800 times. And it sucks each time. But each time I secretly did have someone/thing to fall back on. And now I’m going through it again.

There is more I want to say. There is more I want to say. There is more I want to say that is probably not worth it.

I. Am. So. Hurt. Nauseated. Sick. Untrusting. I think of things and have to brush them away. I think of lots of things. And I have to brush them all away. Have to make myself forget them. Have to remember good things. Have to ignore that while it was good for me, it was like double-dipping for others. When I said it was uneven, I had no idea how spot on I was.

So unfair.

You should know a few things about me. If you know me well enough, some of them you should know already.

I’m a hugger. I love giving hugs, I love recieving hugs. I think they are powerful. Now, I know some of you are not huggers, and that’s okay. I’ll give you your space. But for me, I think there is something powerful about the healing touch of a good hug.

I think hugs go both ways. I give a little bit of (joy, love, caring…fill in your own word), and from you, I receive a bit of (joy, love, caring, understanding, comfort…).

At a former job, a mom came to me concerned about her daughter who had ran away. She came to my office, we talked, she cried, we hugged. That was the first time in my life I didn’t “get” anything from the other hugger. It was like she had nothing left to give.  She was completely drained.

It stuck out in my mind as the only time I haven’t “received” anything back from a hug, and that concept never meant anything to me until I had that experience.

Had my second one recently. There was lots of discussion, lots of tears, lots of confusion, anger, upsetness, hurt. When we hugged, it was like I couldn’t even open my mind/body/heart to it. I got nothing from that hug. I couldn’t let myself.

You should also know I’m a very quick, but good judge of people. Now, I don’t get “vibes” from people at the grocery store, and yes, sometimes my radar is off, but rarely has my gut instinct steered me in the wrong direction. Met several people a few years ago.  (maybe more like  18 months??). I knew to be weary of them, and boy was I right on that. (It goes in the other way, too…. thus some of my best friends I have right now–that instant click.)

I’ve picked up on stuff from dates, from people at work, from friends of friends. Good and bad. I can’t always pin-point it, but it’s there. That “I need to be careful around you” or the “you and I are going to be BFFs.” I have yet to be wrong on either of those things. It’s like I can tell that something is just … off.

Sometimes I pick up on something and it’s not until later that I put it together. Like the guy I went on three dates with, who never tried to even touch me. On date # 3, he asked if it was okay for him to see me and another woman (Um, no?). Oh, duh … that’s why you were so spacey.

And sometimes signals are there, staring me in the face, shouting to be seen. Either I don’t see them or I ignore them.

And I end up wondering why I didn’t hear them sooner.