Wednesday, January 15, 2020

I FACEBOOK-STALKED YOU TODAY

I facebook-stalked you today.

You and I haven't spoken for a long time. There was once ugliness between us -- hostilities we could forgive but not quite forget -- and I think we both just stopped trying and went our separate ways.

Sometimes that makes me sad -- we once meant a lot to each other. But, time and life moves on, and if I'm honest, I don't spend much time dwelling on it anymore. We are part of each other's pasts, but not meant to be part of each other's futures.

But, every once in a while, I think of you. I wonder how you're doing. I think about what drove us apart and how I could have handled things then and later differently - but mostly, I just hope good things for you. I don't want your life to be painful.

So I peeked a little into your life -- And I can say these things truthfully.

I am happy for you for the good things you have encountered since we were last friends. I'm glad that you have people in your life who support you. I'm deeply sorry for the hardships you have encountered and the pain that has tried to break you. Interestingly, I think that you and I, as individual people, have hardened and softened in not-dissimilar ways. We probably have a lot of parallels in that journey, though they really don't look the same, and I'm not sure that our pieces still fit together in the way they once did.

And while I'm not sure reconciliation is in our future -- it could be if we were both better at forgetting and forgiving and trusting.

All that said -- I'm okay with where we are. Time has healed much, and I still love you and I still pray good things for you, whether our paths cross again or not.

May God keep you well.

Friday, January 10, 2020

A LITTLE BEHIND

It's not that I had big plans for the first weeks of January -- I have purposely kept my "resolutions" small.

It's just that my plans didn't involve staying at home, postponing all my little goals, and drinking my weight in hot liquids daily.

My job requires me to talk a lot -- so when I get sick enough that I lose my voice, it's a problem and  requires a strict slowdown.  So, this week, I pretty much ignored a lot of my life. I didn't do work. I did as few errands as I could get away with. I stayed at home a lot.  I drank tea.  Lots and lots of tea.  And then I peed a lot.

So, while the rest of the world has moved into 2020 with gusto... I'm sort of still stuck here on Dec 30th.

and that's okay.  2020 will be waiting for me when I'm ready for it.

Friday, August 9, 2019

I wasn't looking

I wasn't looking --  for a job.  My girls were in junior high -- I was happy as a SAHM.  I wasn't in the market.  Someday, maybe.  It just wasn't in my needs for "right now."

But I had a persistent mentor, and one thing led to another... and then I had a job.  Which soon led into a different role.

and honestly, I thought they would have fired me by now.  At first, it's just that I thought I was awful at it and there's no way they'd keep letting me speak to people.  Now, I'm just willing speak my mind and be a little cantankerous.  So... the firing may yet happen.

But for now... I still have this job.

And I get to play a role which is really rewarding. I get to support and love people. I get to help them with their goals. I get to see them be successful.  And that was a part of my job that I knew would exist -- if they kept me around long enough.

But, I also get to hang out with a bunch of people -- who I work alongside -- who are really smart and funny and kind. People who have become my friends, and don't mind when I'm a little snarky and cantankerous

I wasn't looking for a job five years ago. But maybe it was looking for me.

Sunday, June 16, 2019

The Tamale Guy

One of the best things about going to the annual local craft beer festival with my husband is the food trucks. More specifically, the tamale food truck.

It's hard to find good tamales in Washington...   But the tamale food truck makes some really good ones, and takes me back to when we lived in Southern California and my favorite thing about where we lived.

The Tamale Guy Hunt.

We lived on the north end of Corona in a cute little residential neighborhood, that was about a 45 second drive from being in the middle of cow country.  Cold mornings were not without their own special aroma.

But, if I got a hankering for tamales, I could throw the kids in the car and drive around Cow Country, looking for the Tamale Guy.

I'm pretty sure the Tamale Guy wasn't here legally. I'm pretty sure the Tamale Guy didn't have a business permit.  He didn't speak English. He was never in the same place twice. And he sold tamales, that his MIL made in their kitchen, out of the back of his van. Also, sunglasses.

The extent of our relationship was a lot of smiles, and me pointing at a clipboard to tell him how many I wanted.  There was never a line for "ALL OF THEM."

And he was pretty much my favorite thing about living where we lived. It sure as heck wasn't the drive into Orange County.  I would happily have brought him with us if I could.

I really miss the Tamale Guy.

Friday, May 10, 2019

SELF CARE, DAMMIT

I said the other day that I've been forced to start arising for the day at 5am because my dog has to go outside.

What I didn't say is that I don't mind that much. I sort of like having a couple hours in the morning to myself before everyone gets out of bed. I feed all 97 of our pets. I have the time to get a cup of coffee and quietly sip it while I wake up -- without having to talk to anyone.  I have time to pull a writing prompt out of the jar and percolate on how I want to answer it. I have time to answer it. I have time for a cup of coffee or two more, if I want.

All in the quietness of the morning -- save for the paws scrabbling across our hardwood floors in Early Morning Kitten Wars.

Some of my teenagers have gotten on this weird sleep schedule which we're in the middle of retraining.  Which meant someone was still awake when I got up at 5am yesterday, ready to talk and vent.  At 5 am. Before I had had coffee. Quietly waking up was not happening. Writing was not happening. Grumpy hormones might have been happening.

So, in the afternoon, I took myself to my favorite coffee shop, laptop in hand -- FOUND A TABLE (Gold, I tell you. GOLD.) -- and wrote.  By myself.

One child was at school with the Teenager Car. One child was at home with nowhere to be. The third child was also at home with no work on her afternoon schedule. I was not expected home.

when are you coming home? the text read. 

What followed was a sad exchange in which the teenager professed boredom, lack of transportation, desire to go to work for which she was not scheduled, and.... oh right, more boredom.

will you be home by 2:30??

I sighed.  A good mom would probably go home. 

probably not. I texted back.

Because sometimes self-care looks like stubborn obstinancy.