A New Outlook

So....nearly 7 months ago, I wrote about changing career paths and all the anxiety/pain that would have come along with it. After that post, I decided to jump in head first and apply for a Speech Pathology program in our final resting place aka Arkansas (God willing).

I applied with the knowledge (from another speech pathologist in the area) that the program was very hard to get into, and only accepts 25 applicants a year, but I took my chances....and crashed and burned. I didn't get in. But, when I found out, I wasn't as upset as I thought I'd be. Getting in would mean that I would have to leave my husband nearly 2 months before he was finished with training, and move to Arkansas alone and hit the books. The thought of it actually made me queasy, even now, it still does. So I'm trying to look at it, as a blessing in disguise, for now. I haven't decided yet if I'll reapply once we get to Arkansas. Our future seems uncertain there, even now, so making permanent plans isn't really in the cards.

We just moved to Arizona, and I never thought I'd be so sad to leave Texas. I cried! Leaving work and all our friends was horrible. I don't think it was as hard for Kraig. Most of his friends moved on several months ago, and the rest of them are all here in Tucson. Needless to say, it was very sad. I'm hopeful that once we get to Arkansas we can plan a few trips down there to see our friends.

Arizona is wonderful. We went out on Saturday with several friends on a pub trolley, and went into downtown Tucson which actually reminds me a lot of downtown Portland (the brief time that I've spent in Portland). We had so much fun, and I got to meet a few of the other pilot's wives, they were very nice. This new city has started to give me a new outlook on career choices. I'm feeling more optimistic and more positive about my destination. One way or another, I'll find it. Even though it's taken me longer than so many of my peers I have been having so much fun getting there. When I left work in Texas, one of my coworkers, a much older woman that is in her late sixties said to me, "You're going to have a wonderful life, your Momma did a really good job, and you found a nice man that really loves you."  For some reason that makes me tear up. Anyway, my latest venture idea is to open a bakery, I don't want to post what the name of it would be because someone will for sure steal it but trust me, it's adorable. But once again, I dream. Someday, someday.

Adventures in Sisterhood. Hey, I Have a Little Sister!

At the Lloyd Center after ice skating--welllll, ok, it was more like ice walking but whatever

In this week's mentor adventures, I will try to convince Edith to climb a tree. A few months ago I convinced her to eat a crepe—she whispered she might puke, but luckily that didn’t happen. Nope, instead she ate a sliver of the $8 ham crepe and decided she preferred the M&Ms on my frozen yogurt. This was after we had spent an hour traipsing around the Portland Art Museum and hypothesizing about paintings, with her shirking at all of the naked women. She’s afraid of most things, BUT, I expect as much from someone who’s about a yardstick tall.

Edith doesn’t talk a ton, but when she does she asks a lot of questions, which means I answer a lot of questions. When I was told my mentee match would be an 8-year-old, my immediate response was to Google “8-year-old.” (How tall is one of those anyways?) Youtube gave me a good idea of what they sound like. The first time we hung out, we discussed law enforcement: I still don’t know why policeman eat donuts, and our own Grandpa was a policeman. 

She had stumped me, just like when we went to the park and I crushed her three times in a row (<--haha, get it?) in tic-tac toe; I considered letting her win, but thought it best to teach her the harsh realities of life, early on. “It’s ok,” she said after the fifth round, “I was letting you win.” I’ll be damned…by letting me win, she ended up winning. So, ok, she’s smart.

When I first met Edith, almost a year ago, she wore her hair pinned back in baby clips, though now she has bangs that are brushed to the side, like Selena Gomez. Katie Perry is her favorite singer, and Beyonce is her favorite performer (two different things, she informed me). She does not like Michael Jackson—even post-mortem, I feel relieved by this preference. She spends a lot of times indoors playing video games, and I have to rapidly change the subject if she gets on the topic of French fries (this happens more often than you’d think). She’s gained some weight since we started hanging out; her belly bowls out under her T-shirts now—which unfortunately is a very familiar site. Basically, she’s a Latina version of my own 9-year-old self; having a miniature-sized doppelganger can be very unnerving, but also enlightening.

Apparently the Portland public library does this program where you can sign up for a time slot to read books to underprivileged dogs (yup). I’ve been wanting to do it for a while. If I can’t get Edith up a tree this week, we’re going to the library.

-J

p.s. It has been two months since the last post, you steenking slackers!

A Call To Action

Call me a cheater but this post is merely a sounding board for us to chat about a potential sisters' trip. We need to start planning! Due to cost I feel it's prudent to meet on the West Coast- San Fran? Jenna, I know you might be going with Jo soon but I'm pretty sure you'll be fine going back again. That city tends to steal your heart! Plus, I'm pretty sure San Fran with me & Kali would be a different experience than with Jo ;) And Kali, when do you move to AZ? Honestly, I'm thinking this trip may need to happen after the holidays as my weekends are a little crazy until then. But if Kali gets back to me about when she moves perhaps we can set something in motion.

I also thought maybe we could just ask Ma & Pa to pay out way...that could be our Christmas presents. Let me know what you be thinkin...

always,
m

Dream on....

[WARNING: If you are already in a bad mood, you may not want to read this as it will include quite a bit of gloom and doom b/c I have been in a funk as of late. If you wish to continue reading, do so at your own risk.]

So as of late, I have been in a funk and here's why: I'm recontemplating my career path/choices I made in the past. I remember thinking when I was a sophomore in college, "I'm not gonna worry about that now, I have more time..." or "I'm not gonna make a decision right now on my career, because I have more time, I'll make that decision when I'm ready."  That continued for weeks, which then turned into months, which then turned into years, and 5 years later, I am still no closer to having a career than I was when I was 21, thinking those exact same thoughts.


And you know what, it pisses me off. I'm mad at myself for not taking more initiative, doing more research, even doing more soul searching. I'm mad at myself for not finding a true passion/calling and pursuing it, no matter what anyone else said.  I've heard some older people say, people in their 50+ say, "Oh, don't worry, I still don't know what I want to do with my life either."  That does not comfort me. I don't want to be in my 50's still wondering if I missed some opportunity or over looked my big "ah-hah" moment because I was too busy busting my ass at a $10/hr job. That would just be so sad it's ridiculous, but I think it happens. I think it happens a lot. People get busy living life, and worry more about where their next paycheck is going to come from, instead of finding their niche in life.  And I'm starting to wonder if I'm going to be that person, and if I'll always be that person. And it makes me sick. It keeps me awake at night. It makes me feel like a complete loser, and sometimes, it even makes me cry. Not knowing/understanding now looking back, why I got 2 completely useless degrees, that are in NO way marketable in this economy makes me want to scream. I am beyond frustrated. In fact, I have a hard time even talking about this subject out loud, because when I do, I normally burst into very angry tears. I'm mad at myself for not having a back up plan, and for settling for something that was generally easy to get my bachelors in, and not really challenging myself. Grad school is another story,  that program was definitely NOT easy.

I also feel misunderstood. My husband has known what he's wanted to do his entire life, and started his journey towards his final goal when he was literally in elementary school; so my predicament is incomprehensible to him. "How can you not know?" He asks, as if I'm from another planet.  I wish I was more like him,  I wish I had set my sights really high, and just went for it like he did. I wish I had figured it out when I was a child, and then just pursued it, but I didn't.

My question now is, how do I fix this? How do I "pick myself up by the boot straps" as my Mom would say and find my calling? Go back to school? Thought about it, it makes me want to vomit but if that's the only way I can figure it out, than maybe that's my one and only option. Maybe I need to go on a vision quest like the Indians used to, but is that even legal now? Wasn't there peyote involved in vision quests?

I'm obviously just going through some major growing pains right now, and I probably need to stop thinking so much and just do something about it before my head explodes.  It sounds so simple, but is so incredibly hard for me to do. Why? Why is it so hard for me to just pick a USEFUL career and pursue it? A REAL career plan too, not some pipe dream, long shot, billionaire dream of a plan, like becoming the next J.K. Rowling. What are the odds of that actually happening, like 1 in a bazillion? I can't answer that either, maybe I'll find that answer too, on my vision quest.

-K

Just Around the River Bend...

I look once more... at how to live in the now.

So whoever said, "to know where you're going you have to know where you came from" must not have known what it's like to have baggage. Now I'm not saying you shouldn't acknowledge your roots and how they've shaped who you are. However, it's easy to get stuck on past events & let them mold you in counterproductive ways.  I have vowed to let my memories (good & bad) live in the past-- they will not influence who I am going to become.

What stemmed this post was Jenna's comment about how being in the present is so important-- I can't stress it enough. Obviously the past two years of my existence have been anything but easy & it's amazing how hard it can become to just be when your brain is full of crap. It's amazing how much perspective you can get by just breathing...ahhhh... It truly does able you to appreciate the now. Soak it all up because- like we said- it will all be over soon.

And that's my soapbox :)

m

p.s. Kal- Au contraire (sp?), sometimes you get to have "milestones" more than once. BTW my next wedding will be in Kauai- see above ;)

I wish that I knew what I know now....

So my sisters have been getting after me about blogging because I've been very negligent I know....so I sat here staring at a blank page for a while, and the first thing that came to mind was this simple phrase, "I miss the days when things were different." Let me explain. I actually remember a time when Jenna and I were probably around the ages of 11-12 and we were sitting downstairs in the basement of the 1201 house watching some show, and there was a girl on it that looked like she was in her late 20's probably and I remember saying, "I can't wait until I'm like 26 or 27 because then I can do whatever I want." and I remember Jenna saying, "I don't, because then you're old." Well guess what? I turned 26 this year, and not that I'm old, I'm still a "spring chicken" as my Mom would say but I feel like things are different now. I have so many more responsibilities now, I'm married now for one. Almost for a year now too, which has gone by way too fast. I was just in  one of my bff's weddings this weekend too and it was a beautiful wedding, honestly, and they are a beautiful, inspiring couple. You can honestly see how much they love each other when they look at each other. One night when we were getting ready for bed, she said to me, "Before you got married, were you ever sad?" Instantly I knew exactly what she was talking about because we kind of have this weird ESP thing when we speak to each other.  I told her yes, I was. I definitely wasn't sad about marrying the man of my dreams. My husband is amazing, honestly, words can't describe how much he inspires me, makes me laugh, or how much I love him.  I was sad because a huge milestone in my life was about to be over.

I really dreamed about my wedding my entire life. I specifically remember an instance when I was 5 years old, playing Barbies with Mara and talking about my wedding. And it really is over in the blink of an eye. Over my friends wedding this weekend, we were talking about how a wedding should really span over about 4-5 days because of all the preparation and the time, and the 20+ years you spend fantasizing about this one day that really is all about YOU the BRIDE. And your handsome prince, of course. Let's not forget him. :) And in the span of 12 hours it's over and everyone goes home at the end of the night. It's the most amazing day/night of your life and while you're SO happy that you married the person you've been waiting for your whole life, you're also sad that this amazing day has come and gone just like the rest.

The next milestone my husband I have is babies. People are already asking about when we're going to have them.  But, I have to admit that we are both really excited about having them.  Baby fever hasn't quite kicked in though, give it another year or so.  But, once again I'll be really sad when this milestone comes and goes. It just seems like when I was younger, I was always wishing that I was older, to have more responsibilities, to be on my own. Now, I'm just wishing that time would stop, that I could sit on our back porch with my husband and my family and just drink everything in, before everything changes again. We'll be moving again at the end of this year. We're not sure where we're going, but we should find out here within the next month or so, and things will keep right on rolling. I love going new places and meeting new people. But, I just want to sit still for a while and listen. Does that sound too "Pocahontas"-y? A little bit, I admit.

A tour of our home, in photos

Ok, I'm looking back in the archives and realizing it has been too long since someone has posted. And I also see that it is my turn, oops. So, in keeping in line with the previous topic of favorite house memories, I thought I'd give you a tour of my new home, here in Portland, delivered in the form of a photo essay!

Lucky for you, I devoted this past weekend to home improvement projects. And by home improvement projects I primarily mean clearing a path in my room so that I can walk through it without slipping on glossy New Yorker covers and getting stray pieces of thread and clothing articles wrapped around my ankles. Anyhow, after two months in these northeast digs it is beginning to look like we are settling in.

This weekend we installed this slick pull-up bar in the door that leads from the backyard into the basement. The door/pull-up bar is also a direct shot from the kitchen, which means when I’m waiting for my macaroni to boil or my chik’n nuggets to bake, I bide my time either hanging from the bar or jumping up and wiggling my chin to the top of the bar. So, hopefully I can lose the 15 lbs I’ve packed on in the last year. Between this and my spontaneous windmilling and punching-bag simulations, I should be able to whip my arms into shape.

In other, slightly related news, it appears that at some point in between last summer and this summer I have developed an ass. It wasn’t until the Big Freedia concert a couple months ago that it became apparent (though I’m pretty sure I’m not the only person that has had this revelation at one of her concerts—because, seriously, AZZ. EVERYWHERE. omg). My profile used to drop distinctively straight from my bottom vertebra to my femur, but now there’s some undeniable cushion happening. I think it might be from all of the biking I do, or the fact that I climb up and down my stairs at least 20 times a day.

Anyways, back to the tour.

This is the hammock we installed on our front porch. Here we drink apple cider, eat ice cream sandwiches, consume other foodstuffs, and hope that our neighbors aren’t going to blast the Wicked soundtrack again.

 This is the fire pit Michael built in the backyard. He didn’t even use a compass or any circle-making tools. The symmetry is so incredible that it could almost be a crop circle or some other alien intervention, which kind of makes me suspicious of Michael.

 This is why you don’t go outside without shoes on.

And this is why you don’t (and couldn’t anyways) break into our house if you’re a zombie. Note the stake, Undead.

I edged around these steps this weekend. Where there used to be overgrown dandelions and unruly grass, there is now only cold hard cement—just the way we like it.

This is our exterior bathroom. It’s not an outhouse though. It was for the servants, for when they had servants in 1910. On the left is the miniature door that we wonder what we can stuff with, and on the right is the mysterious brick that we found inside the toilet, which still flushes btw.

I installed these shelves this weekend. Mar, in case Genevieve asks, I got the brackets from IKEA, they’re metal and they’re called EKBY. And the wooden plank I got from the Rebuilding Center for a dollar. There’s a bunch of wood glue on the bottom of it. But it was a dollar.

Kombucha, just fermentin' and doin its door stop duties. It’s been brewing for 3 weeks now. I think I may let it go for another week yet. It’s starting to get tart, but doesn’t have any carbonation for some reason. 

And so ends the tour of improvements. Beyond working on the house, I’ve been schooling myself. The other day I walked out of the library with a chocolate chip cookie in one hand and two Scholastic books under my other arm, one called ICELAND, and the other called FINLAND. They have captions like, “It is unusual to find a dark-haired Icelander, except among some teenagers who dye their hair to be different.” Which gives me the sense that these book were not made with my 23-year-old self in mind as a consumer. However, in the absence of college, I’m finding I’m regressing to my lifestyle as a 10-year-old in the months of summer, when I would assign myself report papers on Neil Armstrong and the Taj Mahal. 

But! I will say, this research is not without a purpose; I’ve become really intent on applying for a Fulbright scholarship. Tomorrow I have a phone meeting with an adviser at the University of Oregon, she’s going to answer some questions I have about the Fulbright, and give me some advice. As maybe you can tell by my scholastic picks, I’m really narrowing in on the Scandinavian countries. But I’ll keep you posted. I've also been teaching myself Italian, and being pretty serious about it. I've been watching an Italian movie nearly ever night before I go to bed, and maintaining a vocabulary list of new words. I don't want to do a Fulbright in Italy, but I've been itching to master a foreign language, and Italian is what I have the strongest foundation with. So here I am. 

TTFN
-J

P.S. I'm just realizing I still have the weird wide dimensions on my camera. oops. I got really excited for a while that my photos looked like film stills, but obviously it's not really an appropriate camera setting for things like fermenting kombucha.