Lesson Learned

As I understand it, the moral to the story is: if you complain enough times about life being sucky, you get a cheery package from your grandma.

Believe it or not, "Chocolate Mousse Peeps" (shaped like Reindeer, rather than a Moose - seems weird), actually taste like chocolate mousse (rather than fake chocolate marshmallows).

Thanks, Grandma!

(if you want to see my grandma, you can find her being trick-or-treated by my nephews over at Curlysis' blog).

My MASH'd Up Reality

Crystal is going through that young adulthood life crisis. In her 25 days of pondering (am kind of wishing I was at that 25 days till 25 years old point), she's looking back and thinking presently and such, and on 24-days-till she reflected on MASH. Remember that game? You draw a square and across the top you write "MASH" (which stands for Mansion, Apartment, Shack, House, if I'm remembering correctly), and on one side you write the names of 4 or 5 guys, on another 4 or 5 jobs, and the third has number of kids. I think there are varieties that include salaries, cars, and whatever else. You go around and mark off every "x"th item till you  have 1 of each left. And that is who you'll marry, where you'll live, what you'll do, how many kids you'll have, etc.

*Allow the feminist in me to point out that this sets you up to assume that everyone must get  married (to a member of the opposite sex) or end up a loser, everyone has kids, and everyone wants a mansion. I seem to remember that I was "weird" because I didn't want a mansion.

Like Crystal, I'm pretty sure I wanted to end up with Zack Morris or maybe Christian Slater (back when he didn't look like a young Jack Nicholson). I still wouldn't be averse to Johhny Depp. But when I was being more "realistic" I'm guessing here's what I secretly hoped would show up.
1. House
2. Mustang
3. 3
4. Jarod Green

Crystal wonders what today's MASH would look like. Honestly, the intent of mine would be the same. Of course, the expectation/plan was that by now I would've had all 4 items (yes, even if I were having 3 kids, young-Jill would've expected to have them all by 31). I'd still prefer a house to a mansion. I would definitely prefer it to an apartment or a shack - let's be honest. While part of me would dig a Mustang, though, I think I'd rather something else. Yes, something "cool" like a Subaru, or a hybrid, but definitely a cross between "hip" and "intelligent". I still like the idea of 3 kids - I've always been shy of things that match up/even out, and I don't really want just one kid, either. And while Jarod Green is married (or at least, last time I heard - and incidentally, didn't he have 3 kids AND a Mustang AND a house?!!), the elements are still the same. I was attracted to him because he was cute - not in the absolute "hottie" way, but in the fun, funny, witty, boy-next-door kind of way. I'm not sure what my nearly-31 years old version of him looks like. Truly, I think grown-up perfect-guy has a slightly different definition. Fun, funny, witty, and even boy-next-door are all well and good and still true. But for grown-up Jillbe there's an added element. Nicole C. Mullen describes it as "Black Light". Yep, that's my grown-up manifesto/definition of the perfect man. I can think of at least one [possibly] single guy who fits that definition. But I'm cowardly, and for all I know he's not single. Or not into girls.

I think younger Jillbe would've been down with a Black Light, too. No, I KNOW she would have been. But that dude was as elusive for her as he is for me.

I'm looking for a boy, looking for a girl
Who's got a dream inside to change the world.
Give me a lady
Come on give me a man
Who's strong enough to take a stand (and be a)

Black light, a candle in the darkness
(we need some more) Black light, courageous and strong
'Til there is no more bigotry and madness
All it takes is a spark, and the fire will burn on and on

Have you met him? Is he single? straight? old enough to know better, but still too young to care? I'm not above a fix-up. I'm not sure what young Jillbe would think, but I can distract her with a Matchbox car while you sneak him in the door.

Crap, it's Wednesday!

Not to mention, it got down to FREEZING TEMPERATURE last night! Am both sad and frustrated - so much for our lovely leaves, they're going to be flooding down, now.

I'm spending big chunks of time away from my office this week - two interviews for my "Documenting Community Traditions" class. Middle of the day. And let's hope and pray that this last one (today) isn't as long as Monday's, or last week's. Because being away from work does not equal being away from screen time. It's taking me approximately 4:1 to transcribe this stuff. As in, last week's two-hour interview? I'm at 1:05:55. And I've been working on it for about 5 hours. Monday's was just as long, but pleasant. Cool people. Interesting. Didn't share their philosophies on the pro's of racial profiling. I was hoping to enjoy a pleasant time in the mountains with the leaves and sunshine, but as I didn't leave their house until 4:00 in the afternoon, no warm leafy time was to be had. Today canNOT be so long. Missing out on the leaves and sunshine is one thing, but missing out on the massage therapy appointment? It's things like that which are keeping me upright and functional.

But, none of that was really why I popped on here this morning. It was because I was debating, "should I mention it to everybody?" and decided maybe I should, the day before. Then I realized, TODAY is the day before.

My Aunt Jean is awesome. It's been a long time since you've heard me mention her, but the topic hasn't really changed. She's now a breast cancer survivor and enjoying life and the moments, her new, first grandson, and staying active and following doctor's orders. She was doing so well that she went in for her last, frequent visit. Except they may have found something. Tomorrow she goes back to hear some results, and it makes me think tomorrow is going to be another one of those "tippy-toes" situations. Where I chance keeping my phone handy in class, so i can hear the news first thing.

Since I don't have a picture of Aunt Jean with me (although you can see her on her caringbridge page), I decided to illustrated with another picture. Here is me and my girls, right after we saw Whip It together. Did I mention that? First, I loved it, unexpectedly, the first time I saw it. I then began designing a way to get them to see it, and miracle of miracles - it HAPPENED! And even MORE, they LOVED IT!!! It ended and all four said, "That. Was. Awesome."

Yeahhh!!

So, one of those girls is my prego teenager. I guess I didn't explain that well enough a couple weeks ago - she's been pregnant since about March, and it was in April that I left work to spend time with her. She's not under 5 feet tall, She's not thin, and she doesn't have the darkest skin in the picture. In case you can't tell/guess. And don't be ridiculous, you are not confusing me with a 15 or 16 year old. Her baby shower is this weekend - we've been planning it, and I still have 60 feet of streamers to sew (imagine those plastic triangle streamers car dealers have out front, but made of cloth that matches the baby quilt we're making). I was all ready to finish it Friday night when I remembered that I lost the All Purpose Foot for my sewing machine. I can quilt, sew buttons and zippers and double knits and sundry other things, but regular old sewing requires something that won't bunch and scrunch. And I'm SORRY mom, but I'm not hand-stitching 60 feet of streamers and hope they'll stay together from now through Caden's second birthday. Especially when I have about 90 hours of transcription left to do. And a couple of sheet cakes to make. No nuts, no coconut, and no layers are my restrictions.

So here's to hoping my replacement sewing foot comes in today, and that my interview is "normal" in length, that the massage therapist loosens me up a bit, that I am massively productive tonight, and that tomorrow is a fear-dashing kind of day for Jean and everyone.

Things To Do [instead of feeling sorry for myself]

Hey, remember that one week where I was too busy and felt overwhelmed? I vaguely recall that I was too social and couldn't get work or school stuff done without cramming it in and also letting it suffer a bit.

That's all I can remember of that week. Something tells me it was September, but I have a hard time believing it wasn't 2008. Lately, I bump into some acquaintance, and they're all, "what are you up to? I haven't seen you in forever!" and I'm like, "oh, I pretty much keep busy with work and school." True. But also, that's pretty much all I do. It's my life because I seem to have no other choices. And while it's true that I can bury myself in it and stay busy, I'm having a hard time remembering what it was like to have friends.

I have a Secre-Sarah. Love her, but she's super-dooper busy. Also, not cool to rely on one person for your social life. That's a lot of pressure, and a lot of undue responsibility.

A couple of weeks ago T decided my birthday was around the corner, and ordered me to give her the names of 5-8 people I wanted to have over for dinner. Technically, she texted me. I sort of let it slide for two reasons. 1. my birthday is a long way from a few weeks ago. 2. i had no idea who to say. But then I ran into her. I think it was in our kitchen. She was like, "have you come up with your list, yet?" Not anxious to think about my birthday, or all that it entails, I probably mumbled something about no, and I was going to be out of town the Friday/Saturday before, and she was all, "oh, well I was planning to do it ON your birthday. On Monday." Great. So now I not only have to come up with 5-8 people who are too busy to spend time with me at any given point in a month, but they have to be people who are free on a Monday night. Before a holiday. Now I remember why my birthday celebrations were kind of lame as a child.

At any rate, I've had a bad week. As in, a really. bad. week. The kind where things go wrong, and you feel pretty crappy about life and yourself and your place in this world and you end up sitting around on a Saturday night - not just any Saturday night, but an honest-to-blog holiday that falls on a weekend night and not just any weekend night but fracking daylight-savings-change night. Could there possibly be any night in the year better-suited for celebration? (apparently, the Monday before Thanksgiving). And so you're sitting on your couch, feeling lame-o, re-thinking every position you've ever taken. As in, earlier today I made these awesomesauce halloween party treats and while I was shaping the almond shortbread to look like witches' fingers (for reals) and wondering if I bake just to get attention, hearkening back to my childhood of always being ignored and forgotten on the sidelines, and oh-my-gosh I'm stuck in a quandary. If I make the finger-cookies am I doing it just so people will say, "oh, Jillbe, she's so talented," and will later remember that I was there because they remember the cookies, OR do I not make the cookies because that's a pathetic plea and risk no one even remembering I showed up, kind-of life-crisis. Especially if I pull a "Be" and leave without saying goodbye (a hallmark of my family, and a problem when you have to try to develop the skill as an adult, when your gut is telling you, 'no really, you should just slip out." and your brain is saying, "how???").

MAN, am I a wreck.

So, here's the thing. I am 30 years old (for 23 more days). I am single. I have no kids. My job involves sitting in front of a computer or behind a desk or sometimes across the table from other people with similar jobs. Once a week or so we might even bump into each other by the microwave and end up eating and chatting for a few minutes - in the same room! I knew life was going to be hard when Secre-Sarah left the office and her life got busy, but this has really gotten challenging. I don't really drink, my conversational skills were weak before I went and got rusty with them, and I'm trying to be responsible with my spending (meaning "cheap-so I can pay off credit cards"). Do you know how hard it is to make new friends with these parameters? My social partner lately? It's rectangular and connected to the cable box and it has this horrible high-pitch frequency that only dogs and I can hear.

So, yesterday I was down on myself (imagine, after a week like this). Instead of going to bed early and feeling sorry for myself, I tried to come up with my list (of 5-8 people). Really, my goal is to develop social relationships. How can I do this with a birthday dinner, without just making people feel compelled to come because it's my birthday and/or they feel sorry for me and/or they feel guilty and/or whatever else (I was lying in bed, it was [not very] late, I don't remember)? It should not be my girls. Supplementing your social life with 4 high school friends isn't really better than relying on one person for your interactions. I need friends my own age. So, I ended up with a list of women of varying ages/situations and hopes that a few of them might be available. I think I will suggest, if they feel just compelled to offer a gift, that they help one of my friends get childcare so she can come. Because it's not just about me having trouble interacting, but also theirs. A time for us to just connect, re-connect, and build back up these relationships. I'm feeling pretty good about that. So that's one to-do.

But more, I'm trying to sort out how I can take my focus off myself. Maybe even reach out to other people who are feeling a bit alone, too?

Some barriers? I work. I am also in school. And I do have some high school girls I spend some time with. So I don't have the dedicated time to regularly volunteer or get some sort of social job. But I'm making a list.

Ideas?

Apparently, the Universe has OTHER Ideas

Let me preface this by saying, I am fully capable of discerning irony. I am also completely able to employ logic, look after myself, and basically deal with the situation. I am NOT looking for advice. I am looking for maybe a bit of pity. A miracle would be nice, but I'm not expecting it from you. I guess I'm just here to mope.

Remember last week's miracle?
*poof!* Thin air. What's the point?
(that was rhetorical, not inquisitive)

So, it seems my wallet and I are destined to be separated. Come hell, highwater, or to be redundant, today in Northeast Tennessee (at least I wore my rainboots).

I was having a rough day. Feeling sort of "seriously, why do I bother showing up in the morning", with a large spoonful of "today sucks". I decided the appropriate response was to treat myself to a decaf mocha latte.

Except my wallet wasn't in my bag.

My. wallet. wasn't. in. my. bag.

I dumped it out and turned it inside-out to check.

I also checked my desk drawers. My jacket. Grabbed my keys and went out to search my car. Checked the ground around my car. Got into my car and drove home (what, like I'd have a license with me if I waited?). Went through my house. Tore my couches apart. Tore my bed apart. Tore around like a crazy person to no avail.

I recognized that my day was going from bad to worse. My attitude was terrible. I was starting to panic.

I knew the exact last place I'd had my wallet. Yesterday evening I stopped at home and checked the mail, heated up some soup, and watched 10 minutes of TV before going to an evening meeting. The mail had pictures of my nephew, David, and I stood at the dining table, put the wallet-sized photo in my wallet (on top of my ID), and left the bigger picture on the table for T to see. Then I went to the meeting. I did not stop on the way there, or back. The meeting was in the fellowship hall of a church. This morning I drove from home to work, and walked inside. That is the extent of every possible place my wallet could have possible traveled. But it's nowhere to be found. At any of those places. And I am freaking the F out.

As I drove back to work (and battled the crowds on campus of people trying to drive/park/walk) I called Secre-Sarah and freaked out on her. She was ever-so-level-headed and kind. She even took time out of her already-late walk to class to bring me a decaf mocha latte. So, there's that.

I've returned home and torn my house apart, again. Seriously. I looked in the cabinets I pulled the mug from to reheat the soup. I looked in the drawers in my closet. I looked in the drawers in my bathroom. I looked in the freezer. The laundry. Next-to-under-around my bed.

I have checked my accounts and nobody has used my credit card or my debit card. I was waiting to notify that they are lost until the morning, on the off-chance that I might find it - sitting on a bookshelf or underneath the pile of mail I've checked four times already. But I gave in to despair/loss and a twinge of "sensibility". At least it let me do something.

The worst part, however, is not the cards. Not the ID's or the frequent shopper's cards. Not even David's picture. Those are all replaceable. But in a tiny little spot, hidden away, was a gift that meant the world to me. It was from my grandpa. It meant that I was grown up, and respectable.

I dont' think losing it means I'm neither. It means I've lost an irreplaceable gift from my grandpa.

And gained the pain and frustration of replacing the contents.

(Let me take this time to remind you, I do not need your advice, suggestions, or otherwise peanut-gallery-type comments. Seriously. They will not improve my day, or my outlook on life.)

What Matters

My worth is not determined by whether one single professor appreciates my writing style. It is not based on my ability to interpret assignments in a single bound (or was that jump buildings?). I am not worthy just because I get an "A" any more than I am unworthy if I don't. My worth does not depend on these class, on this program of study.

I am worthy because of 4 teenage girls. Because I love them. Because I care for them. Because I am willing to take the day off work and drive them to a movie that will impact the way they see the world. Because I will leave work early to spend time with one who has just found out she's pregnant. Because they love me back. And their parents love me.

I am not suggesting worth is based solely on one's ability to care for others. Many worthy people have been so bruised by no fault of their own they aren't capable of reaching out. They are worthy too. But I needed reminding that truly, in the grand scope of things, one of these is FAR more important than the other.

Thank you for reminding me.
(or listening to me be grateful)

I Have Always Depended on the Kindness of Strangers

To set the stage, I am sitting on a comfy couch with the rays of sunset brightening the room. The temperature outside is now dropping from the 62 degree high, and the ocean is a few steps away. I'm at Tybee Island with wonderful ole Secre-Sarah.

We didn't get out of Johnson City until after 3:00 Friday afternoon, but we did make it to Columbia, SC in time to check into an historic hotel, spend a few minutes primping, and eat at a cute little Italian place. You know me and Italian, it can be worked into any part of a schedule. However, I declined the cannoli (GASP) and we found ourselves across a river, me with Tuxedo Cake and a shot of hazelnut in my coffee, and her with a glass of her favorite beer. By the time we got back to our hotel it was getting late, and street parking in Columbia kicks back into parking fines at 9:00 a.m. So, we found our parking garage with the gate up and a sign suggesting the gate clerk would take care of you. Except we didn't stumble across a gate clerk on our way out. We became concerned about having to pay some large fee to leave the garage, but I decided to believe in the South, and behave uncharacteristically. I said, "I choose to have faith in the goodness of humanity." And I meant it.

Of course, the next morning when we went to leave the garage a bit of apprehension bubbled up - what if rules are rules, and we end up paying some extravagent fee? And I'd forgotten to check with the desk clerk about being validated or discuss our situation... But I pushed the thoughts away. I was in the South, and I really meant what I'd said the night before (I know, that surprised me as much as you when I realized it was true). When we got to the exit there were two lanes - one for cash only (I had none, so no-brainer) and one for hotel guests, something about validation, and those with cards. But when I pulled up slowly I realized - the gate was wide open, there was nobody to take my card, and I was free to leave. Goodness of Humanity. Perhaps because of the time of day or the day of the week or simple dumb luck - we left without any hassle.

I know that sounds corny, but I take hope where I can get it.

We arrived in Savannah yesterday (Saturday) and I really don't remember what time it was. It was "morning" in the sense that we'd not eaten lunch yet, but I'm fairly sure the time had a "p.m." after it. So we drove around the historic downtown, taking note that the only available parallel parking spaces required skill. If you didn't attend the Marshall High School driving program, you may not understand the implication. Yes, I had to parallel park to pass my driver's test. But as there were no other cars parked on the square at that time, the skill required was akin to the skill needed to drive the car in general. I've parallel parked, for sure, but the Marshall-girl in me is always a bit apprehensive of backing into a space on a busy street with loads of cars waiting impatiently behind you and loads of pedestrians able to laugh at your expense. Plus, curbside parking has a strict time limit.

Finally, we found the public parking garage, and headed out on foot to explore Kenneth Cole, Urban Outfitters, and innumberable artisan stores. In the first store, a collection of mostly jewelry met us (along with a guy I'm still not convinced isn't a bit of a faker). My phone rang, but since it was an 888 number I didn't answer it. Stupid telemarketers. Although I was surprised they left a voicemail. As we were walking down the sidwalk from that store I remembered to check my messages and nearly fell over with shock (and might have been a tad snippy with Secre-Sarah - sorry again, love). The call was from my insurance company (whom I've only had positive interactions with - and we both know I've had my share of incidents requiring the use of my auto insurance). But lest you think they were calling to entice me to cover some other thing with their insurance, here's what Estelle was calling to tell me. A woman named Angela had just found my wallet in a parking garage, and if I would just call Angela's cell phone she would arrange to meet me somewhere to hand it over.

And truly, it didn't 'click' in my head until I was into this post that both incidents of humanity's kindness happened in parking garages. Because I didn't lose my wallet in Columbia (in case that's what you were thinking), I lost it in Savannah. Ten minutes prior. You see, in Columbia I pulled it out to pay for whatever gigundo parking fee I was about to face. When I didn't pay I got caught up in driving and forgot it was sitting between me and the door. And when I got out of the car in Savannah I didn't notice it fall onto the ground. And it's bright orange (no, it's not a UT wallet). The odds of someone else seeing it are high. The odds of someone else deciding not to keep it or steal anything, and to find a way to contact me, who knows. But if you choose to have faith in the goodness of humanity, perhaps they're better odds than you'd think.

I didn't get to meet my rescuer, she was in a hurry and left it with the gate agents at the parking garage who recognized me from my ID a few moments later when I arrived. I do have her name and cell phone number, but I don't know that that will enable me to send her some thank-you cookies. Oh, don't worry, I'm gonna try. Also, as I was leaving the garage with wallet in hand Estelle called me back to double-check that I'd gotten her message and that I knew Angela was leaving my wallet with the gate agent (because Angela had called her back - seriously, she's THAT nice - and so is Estelle).

And can I take an "aside" for a moment to iterate how losing my wallet would have ruined my weekend? Not JUST because I'd have to deal with stolen credit cards and ID/identifying information, a couple of sentimental issues, and be out of cash and such for the weekend. But THIS weekend I'm taking a much-needed break. I'm on vacation. What is vacation without money and with the unease of not knowing where your information is or who might be misusing it? And seriously, I was in need of some goodness.

I was, literally, stunned by the goodness. I can't say that it happened BECAUSE I chose to have faith, but I do think I sort of "needed" it to happen. It's just hard to believe that there are people who are all around "good" anymore. There are so many suggestions that life works otherwise.

So, while I sit and enjoy seeing the sunlight creep away, and think about where and what we're going to eat tonight, maybe think about what you might do to make someone's day. Maybe it's just a matter of keeping your eyes open for bright orange wallets, and then taking the time to call their insurance agent and wading through menus and be a generally awesome specimen of a human.

p.s. If your name is Angela Miller, and you found my orange wallet in Savannah, I'd love to send you some cookies.