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I'm not very good about this blog thing, am I? I should have known that I wouldn't be able to keep up. Like I mentioned in the last post, I tend to run out of words. My work requires a LOT of writing and I may have mentioned that I'm also in school. It's an on-line course that also requires a LOT of writing.  I think we're supposed to be on day 9 now and I've only written 3 blogs. I pulled up my list to see what topics I was supposed to write about and none of them interest me today. If you don't mind, I'm just going to ramble.

I moved away from home when I was 18. I tried college for a while, because that's what you're supposed to do after you graduate high school. Sadly, I was miserably unsuccessful. I lived there (in Wilmington, NC) for three years, but was only enrolled for 1 1/2 years. After that, I moved to Colorado. I picked Colorado because 1. I'd never been to Colorado and 2. a distant cousin offered me a place to stay until I got my feet on the ground.

When I left North Carolina, I was actually running away. I still don't fully understand what I was running away from, but I wish now that I hadn't run so far and so fast. I think that by going so far away, I alienated myself. I will never again belong in North Carolina, but at the same time, I think I will always consider it my home.

I go back to visit from time to time--my family still lives there. One sister lives with me in Colorado and a second sister just moved to Ohio. Everyone else is in North Carolina. (By "everyone" I mean my folks, 8 siblings and their spouses, and 20 nieces and nephews.) I've been gone for 18 years now. That's 18 years worth of holidays, birthdays, "barn raisings", personal achievements, and heartaches that I missed out on. I missed weddings and anniversaries and births and all the celebrations and bonding associated with those events. I wasn't there to help pull the stump or rebuild the deck. When I go back, I am reminded of how much I missed. I am reminded that I no longer belong there. It makes me sad. I am an outsider in my own family. I am a stranger to my nieces and nephews.

But in Colorado, I'm great. People like me and they invite me to holidays, birthdays, and "barn raisings". I help celebrate weddings and anniversaries and births. I volunteer at the school in throughout the community. People recognize me in the grocery store and stop me to say, "hi" and ask about day. I exchange keys with my neighbors and send over warm cookies from every batch. People here know me. I belong here.

That's okay, isn't it? For a long time I didn't think it was. But I've changed my mind. North Carolina is not my home, it's just my home state. Colorado is my home now. It's a pretty cool place to call home.

Slack-ass

I only made it two days into a 30-day challenge. That, my friends, is the story of my life. I’m a total slack ass. It was actually a little after 10PM on Day 3 when I realized I missed the boat. I was in bed trying to go to sleep. That’s when I replay my day and think of all the things I did right, wrong, or—as in this case—didn’t do at all. The next day I saw that I was supposed to write about something I have to forgive myself for and I realized that it was a subconscious mental block. We all have skeletons in our closet—things that we are ashamed of—things we wish we could either re-do or totally erase. In a perfect world, we forgive ourselves of these unspoken crimes. I chose not to. I don’t think I will ever forgive myself, but make no mistake: I spend Every—Single—Day—Of my life trying desperately to write those wrongs. I believe that if I do enough good and bring enough light into the world, then maybe…just maybe I can make up for it. But I don’t expect to ever forgive myself. I knew better.

 Day 04 (yesterday) I was supposed to write about “Something you have to forgive someone for.” I spent the day researching and writing an assignment for school. By the end of the day, I had run out of words. I have writing assignments that I have to do for work today, so I figure I better get caught up on this blog before I run out of words again.

I’ve been told many times by many people that I’m a good writer and I believe it to be true. But it doesn’t come easily for me. I might spend an hour or more writing just one paragraph. I will read and re-read an email half a dozen times, tweaking a word here, adding a comma there. I don’t know that I’ve ever really pleased with my writing as much as I just think it is close enough. I usually just get tired and run out of words.

Back to the blog writing assignment—I don’t think I have anything I need to forgive another person for. I don’t have space in my heart, mind, or life for grudges. Aside from that, I think the world’s been pretty good to me.

Day 5 (today) is the day I write about something I hope to do in my life. I mentioned that in my address to day 3: I truly aspire to make the world a better place and I believe I have the ability to do so—we all do. We make the world a better place with random acts of kindness. When I (or you) smile at a stranger on the street, I (you…we) spread kindness. If I see someone wearing a pretty dress, I tell her and she usually lights up. If I’m in the elevator with a man who smells nice, I tell him and he usually stands a little taller. In both instances, these strangers walk away feeling a little more confident. Chances are, they will pass those compliments along to someone else and slowly, but surely, we bring joy to people’s lives and make the world a better place.  We all want to be acknowledged.

So the next time you’re in the elevator with someone who smells good—tell him or her. I dare you.

Day 2: Something you love about yourself

I love to live! I have an almost unquenchable thirst for life. I’m almost always up for an adventure—whether it’s a cross-country road trip or a newly discovered park in an adjacent neighborhood; a lick of my daughter’s sour candy or an exotic new ethnic food; I want to taste it, smell it, hear it, see it and feel it. I want to fill a pool with it and bathe in it—wallow around like a pig in slop and cover my entire physical being with life!
I think the greatest testament to my love of life is that my love is unconditional. I may not “like” all things about my life or my life experiences, but I accept and love them as my own. My willingness to open my eyes and my heart to the inevitableness of discomfort has allowed me to live life even harder.

I offer you this as a lighthearted example: I was cleaning my house on Sunday and sweating profusely. It was HOT and I don’t have central air conditioning. I was already crabby because—as I mentioned yesterday—I do NOT like to clean. That it was so hot was only making me more crabby. At one point, I flopped down in a chair and took a long drink of water. As I drank the water, I could feel the sweat beading on my head and running down my face, neck, and back. It struck me as amazing that I could actually feel my body sweating. As the droplet of perspiration swelled on my forehead, I resisted the urge to wipe it away. My patience was rewarded as I soon experienced the sensation of several small droplets joining into a gentle cascade down the contour of my face, leaving behind a trail of damp, cool skin. Twenty seconds ago, I was hot and sweaty and pissed off. Now I’m marveling at the mechanisms of the human body to cool itself. I look around my small house. I’m almost 40 years old and my furniture is still mostly a collection of cast offs from friends and relatives. No matter how much I clean and straighten, my home retains its cluttered, somewhat shabby, “lived-in” look and feel. But it’s mine. It represents who I am and what I stand for. And I love it just as much as I love the feel of that cold water rushing down my throat, into my stomach, and throughout my body. If I keep cleaning house, I might get to feel that same swig of water dampen my hairline.

30-Day Blog Challenge: Day 1

The 30-day blog challenge suggests that I spend Day 1 writing about what I hate about myself. Well, for one thing, I don’t hate anything about myself. Fact is I’m pretty awesome. Secondly, why would I start a blog by talking about bad things? I don’t want to write about bad things any more than you want to read them! Of course, no one is perfect. I have nothing to fear or hide, so how about I introduce you to some of my characteristics that might be somewhat less than desirable during certain situations. As you read, please understand that I embrace these idiosyncrasies as part of what makes me so awesome.

1. I cry when I’m happy or excited. No joke. Like, really cry…tears, snot, hic-ups…I go all out. Have you ever been to the Football Hall of Fame in Canton, OH? We were there 14 or 15 years ago—the summer after the Denver Broncos won their first Super Bowl. We watched highlights of the Bronco’s season in some super fancy theater. When it was all over, I was clapping feverishly and sobbing like a baby, “GO BRONCOS!!” I still don’t think my then 10-year-old stepson has forgiven me. He was so embarrassed; he practically crawled out of the theater on his hands and knees.

My husband and I played hooky from work one day and drove up to Georgetown, CO to ride the steam train. After we loaded the train, the conductor blew the whistle and yelled, “All Aboard!” I burst into tears. I may have frightened some of the small children.

I cried at the rodeo, too. It was right at the very start, the lights went out and the coliseum was almost completely black. The “Beef—it’s what’s for dinner” song started blaring, lasers were everywhere and about two dozen people came into the arena on horses—both people and horses had lights all over them. It was one of the coolest things I have ever seen and I showed my appreciation with a flood of tears. We were about four contestants into the bull riding before I pulled myself together again. My husband won’t go to rodeos with me anymore.

2. I always have to be planning something. I scour the internet for free family activities I can do on weekends with my daughter. I am always thinking of what needs to be done to the house next. I spend almost an entire week planning the next week’s menu. I can’t go into a store without a list. I will spend months planning a vacation. The last vacation we took, we met my husband’s family in Missouri. I got everyone to agree on a date and location and I made all the arrangements. His sister drove from TN, his brother and dad came from NE and we drove from CO. It took about 3 months to make all the arrangements, including planning meals and what to pack. I spent half of the ride to the vacation planning the next vacation. My husband said, “PLEASE—one at a time!”

3. The only thing I dislike more than cleaning my house is a dirty house. That’s right—read it again.

4. I do not like being wet. I’m the freak at the swimming pool walking around with my hands sticking up out of the water. I can’t be in the water for more than about 10 minutes at a time. It freaks me out. Of course, there are few things that I enjoy more than the feel of clean skin. So much so, that I often take two showers a day.

I think that’s about it. Not bad, eh? I told you I was awesome.