Best Buy - GRRRRRRRRRRR

Okay, rant time, but this will be a short post too :0P  Yesterday I went to Best Buy to return something, with a receipt in hand, and that damn messed up policy to take and swipe my license makes me furious.  WHAT OTHER STORE DOES THIS!  Oh, the cashier tried to say Wal-Mart does this too, I haven't been there in a while, but I don't remember that and I am not sure if this is their policy now too.  It is ridiculous that they track returns this way, to my license, it made me feel like a criminal!  Okay, I can see there might be people who are return offenders, but give me a break.  Best Buy is in trouble, having to possibly let people go, hummmm, maybe that is why people don't want to shop there anymore, because they feel like criminals!

*I looked it up, Wal-Mart does this if you don't have a receipt, which I can tolerate, but when you have a receipt, that is just, ugh!!

K

What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stronger

It continually amazes me to think of the things life throws my way, and like a trooper one must soldier on.  Trying times, dark times, lonely times, those are the times that try the heart, mind, and soul.  Bloodied and battered from battle, it feels as if it will never end and enemy advance will deal the final blow.  However, once that time has passed, the battleground is cleared, and hopefully left standing to fight again, I am stronger.  I don't know what it is, but seeing others around me, and experiencing what I have in my life, I see that this can be the case.  Things are thrown my way, taking control and fighting to see another day is all I really can do.  If other people have done it, why can't I.  The pain, struggles, heartache in life are tumultuous and defy explanation for a concrete reason why, but the good and happy in life is made better, stronger, and brighter because of that.  It sounds like trite and as if Pollyanna is speaking when I say all this, but it is a way to look past the dark times, and see what lies ahead.  The past is history, we have the present to live, and and a future to shape and make our own.


Are there sad, dark times you are grateful for?  Something that was painful but brought you to a greater happiness?




K

You Ought to Be in Pictures

Deep dislike of being photographed you say, oh, I get that. I am not a fan of those chest-out-duck-lips-posing-in-the-bathroom photos so very popular with women these days. When the camera comes out I cringe and simply want to be ignored, or better yet remain behind the camera. Don't push, don't ask, just let me be, I don't want my picture taken. I can pinpoint the precise moment, incident, etc. that induced this shyness phobia. Funny thing is, as a young girl I was a bit of a ham and didn't mind being playful in front of the camera, but that changed and I never felt relaxed in front of a camera again. It was pretty much when my Thyroid condition started around 6th Grade and I was being teased in school for my appearance, and then seeing pictures of myself was a horrifying experience on top of that! The photographic evidence of everything that was physically wrong is painful to remember and relive. Somehow I have gotten caught up in that place, and the associations of that period and of the "me" I was when I was sick and being photographed today isn't a pleasant experience I believe because of those associations. I don't want to see the photo and have to take in what I don't like seeing there, as I had to as child when I saw photos of myself. I was a slightly more outgoing, social child prior to all that, and then suddenly the shell thickened and remains today most likely because of those experiences. Confronting that is something to work on, and expressing where it comes from and what triggers those emotions is powerful. Sure, one little post isn't a cure, but it's a start and it always feels good to express those inner emotions and turmoils.

K

Rain, Rain, Go Away!

The rain came earlier than usual today, and it seems nothing else is new besides rain.  It was a soggy June, and now a soggier July here in Florida (actually even May had quite a bit of rain).  Afternoon rain is typical, but this is getting serious seriously ridiculous.  I can't help but feel waterlogged, and really want to dry out!  Tropical Storm Debby rolled through the last week of June, but it has felt like a never-ending monsoon has descended and has no intention of leaving.  So life continues in its soggy, summer way here in Florida, testing what Floridians are truly made out of, which apparently is a lot of water!

K

Yogurt, Blogs, and Rain

Today I was spontaneous, yes, moi, and did something spur of the moment!  I went with KitchenKM to a blogger meeting with fellow lady bloggers in our area.  It was nice, if not a bit intimidating, since I feel kind of like an amateur.   Meeting at a local do-it-yourself frozen yogurt place was fun, and close by, so good for a Sunday outing when it is rainy season.  Arriving early, of course, only uped my anxiety level as I waited for the others to arrive, hoping I would have something productive to say.  I, of course, spilled some yogurt on myself, and my raincoat, so it went much as I expected; I was utterly graceful and delicate!   This go round I simply wanted to take things in, my usual style for sure, hoping to get a feel for things and the fellow lady bloggers.  It was amazing seeing other women who enjoy blogging, and about so very different topics.  I was inspired once I came home to create a business card to go with my blog design.  It is a great, easy way to share your info on the go, and it is pretty easy to DIY also.  So, I have taken my first lesson from a blog meetup, and just add it to the others KitchenKM has shared along the way.  As she reminded me, blogging is about self-expression and meeting other people, where judgement isn't passed and being true to yourself is all that is expected.  Overall it was a nice, albeit rainy, Sunday in my world, and figured I would share that I feel like I have gained some inspiration and insight as I navigate my life, and my blog.  Not a bad days work, that's for sure!  And remember, bring your raincoat, it's July in Florida ;0)


K

Confidence Boost

As a self-professed and unabashed "Book Geek"  I admit that I find myself usually most comfortable and passionate when speaking about books, otherwise I find I am severely lacking self-confidence or self-assurance, and grapple with being a severe introvert.  Dealing with most social situations always revs up my anxiety level to unprecedented levels.  Worry overtakes me, and I find any relaxation, or enjoyment, hard to muster.  It isn't so much that I dislike being in a social situation, it is more that my concerns and insecurities far outweigh any ease I try to feign.  I do a little better one on one, but when  surrounded by a larger group, it isn't pretty.  It is an unease of how to fit in, where to place myself, what to contribute that hinders my bravery.  Oh, certainly the adage of "be yourself" comes to mind, but it is hard advice when you fear people won't like the "yourself" you are.  There are people I see so at ease when sharing with a group, leading a group, etc. and I envy that.  

In my bookclub I recently had to take the reigns in our discussion and felt pretty useless, even though it was about a book.  I am far better at sharing my thoughts about the current book when I don't have to worry about leading, otherwise I am a bundle of nerves.  Even when I am just sharing I am questioning myself; am I talking too much, making an absurd point, being rude!  Recently, when I went to hang out at a good friend and fellow blogger KitchenKM's game night, relaxing wasn't so easy, especially early on.  I felt awkward and kind of clammed up.  Then as we played the game, I think I got kind of snippy when I had to be silly in the game that was meant to be fun and easy going.  I feel like a pretty uncoordinated and unimpressive figure to begin with, and acting silly or uninhibited just makes that even worse for me, even when it should be fun or lighthearted.  Overall I had fun, but I know I wasn't at my best or socially graceful.  It is a constant battle between wanting to be accepted and be more social, and a fear of failing and just not measuring up or fitting in.  These thoughts are hard to ignore, it is just a given that I will be nervous, clumsy, and awkward.  Confidence never has been, and most likely never will be my strong suit, I just can't seem to find my size. 

K

Being Conservative, Politics, and Friends DO NOT MIX

After recently getting into a somewhat heavy political discussion with a friend I realize that politics, like religion, is best not discussed with friends when your opinions diverge from a common point of view.  I particularly feel that when falling on the conservative side of the debate one better keep their mouth shut.  I don't think anyone necessarily means to make a person feel that way, but I have felt, at least in my experience, that the liberal view comes like an attack and not getting into it is probably best.  I don't feel I am a particularly judgmental person, but somehow my conservative leanings need to be questioned, dissected, and smacked around.  It's not that I don't have an answer, or reason for my beliefs, it is just that the opposing view can't seem to shake that somehow my opinion differs, and that I am not bringing the Western World down by not agreeing.  I have never questioned and argued with someone the way that I have been interrogated before, this was far from the first time it has happened or the only person who has placed me in the hot seat.  Take for example liberal celebrities that take award show moments to wax political, yes, it is often liberals who choose those moments for browbeating and chest-thumping their view, and their causes.  I don't know why liberals tend to be louder, and more aggressive, but as a conservative you cannot afford to be loud or aggressive it often seems, and must apologize for your views, because it is obviously wrong, crazy, and mixed-up .  So, I conclude it is best to keep politics out of friendships, it just makes things more peaceful, despite political debate not being a bad thing, it just saves on frustration.

K

Expectations of Thirtysomethings

As I endure celebrate another birthday in what I am affectionately calling "The Dirty 30s" I realize the expectations placed on a woman in her 30s.  As an unmarried, unattached woman of a certain age I do face particular expectations from people.  It sometimes feels I am expected to be married with children and living a certain life.  That is all well and good, but my life hasn't taken that path for whatever reason, and I am becoming increasingly okay with that.  I am making the most of my life, it is my life to live after all.  I sadly have been hard on myself when I feel I am not measuring up, and that is something I resolve to stop.  Comparing myself to others is only going to frustrate me, and letting others dictate the lens I view myself through is an exercise in futility.  Are there things I wish I could make different, yes, but I can't dwell on what isn't, it is embracing what is that is what is important and the best way to live.  So as I settle in with another candle on the birthday cake, that is adding more and more candles too fast now for my taste, I am learning to be okay with who I am and where I am at, no matter what anyone else wants or expects of me.  So it is with great fanfare I wish myself a Happy Birthday in my Dirty 30s ;0)

K

Parents

Since today is Mother's Day I have been thinking a great deal about family, parents in particular.


A dear friend of mine recently lost her mother, and the loss she has experienced seems completely overwhelming and indescribable.  Seeing what she is going through got me wondering about mother/daughter relationships.   Recalling what my parents went through when the lost their mothers was a sobering experience, despite the years removed from those losses.  Any parent/child relationship is going to be different and unique, even among siblings and their parents. The capacity to love is something that words really can never truly express adequately.


I have heard that mothers love their child before they even give birth, while fathers don't feel the same connection until the child is actually born.  Obviously, the child as an infant needs the parent, and the bond that needs to form is delicate and amazing to watch.  As childhood passes, it seems to change and grow with the child needing the parent less and less, so they think.  It seems once the parent is sick, or has passed, the need for the parent/child bond becomes more evident and the loss can be shattering to the spirit.

The closest I came to learning how devastating losing a parent could potentially be was in 2005 when my father had a quadruple bypass.  He recovered and has been okay since, but the time we waited from December 2004 until his surgery in early January 2005 gave me time to think about what could go wrong.  The day of his surgery was a blur, I seemed to live it but somehow not really feel it.  Time that day did not move, and it was one of the longest days of my life.  I still remember the numb feeling of seeing my father intubated, and post-op.  It will never rank as a memory I want to maintain, since the fear became all to real.  It is a close as I ever want to come for a very long time and has made me appreciate every moment.


For as much as a parent can drive a child crazy when the teenage years start and beyond, and vice versa, it seems one is never truly a grown up.  I don't truly believe we fill that "grown-up" roll until our parents are gone.  Despite living a life of our own, needing a parent never quite seems to end.


Happy Mother's Day to all the Moms out there! 




K

Turner Point

When I was about 11 years old I got sick with a bad cold or flu.  At the same time I had also developed a goiter.  My eyes protruded and my neck had a tire like bulge.  The doctor ran some tests and we discovered I had a thyroid condition.  It would require daily medication and was easy enough to treat.  However, I also wasn't growing.  At the time I was hovering well below 5', despite my parents being taller than average.  My dad is 6' and my mom is 5'8".   Further tests lead to a more devastating diagnosis of Turner Syndrome (TS). Essentially I was born missing one of the two X chromosomes every girl and woman has.  This leads to short stature, infertility, and a variety of other possible complications.  This is a rare condition affecting 1 out of 2,000 to 5,000 female births, and only about 1% to 2% of embryos with this condition are actually born.  With this diagnosis my life became a regular series of doctors appointments as I was growing up.  I was placed on a protocol by my specialist, and as her oldest patient I was a test subject for her as well.  This protocol consisted of Human Growth Hormone (HGH) and Estrogen Replacement Therapy.  I had a sonogram of my kidneys to make sure they were formed correctly.  I regularly got x-rays to see how my bones were fusing.  This was certainly a difficult thing to face during adolescence, when a child may already feel different, to have a genetic test confirm, indeed you are quite different.  I could get angry at God for giving me this to deal with, but I never have.  I have the sense that I am lucky to have been given the life I was, despite it's imperfections.  It is part of my life, and something I have to deal with on a regular basis.  I will never have a child of my own, and can only get pregnant using a donor egg and IVF.  Adoption is something I have tossed around, and the idea of giving a child a home and family that needs one seems to be the route I would feel comfortable taking.   Why try to crate a child when I would face a more than risky pregnancy, why not find that child who needs me?  I feel that might be my purpose if I am to become a mother.  I am at risk for heart issues, diabetes, eye problems, osteoporosis, hearing loss, just to name a few.  Since there are limited women and girls with this condition to study, it isn't easy for doctors to know with certainty what issues a TS patient will face as they age.  I did reports on the condition in school to learn more, and had for a time thought I wanted to go into the field of medicine specializing in this and similar conditions.  My hope was to give assistance to others facing what I had faced.  Although I realized quickly my squeamishness would not be conducive to a career in medicine.  Besides and physical issues, there are the psychological issues that go with a genetic condition.  Dealing with infertility from such a young age is not easy.  It certainly sets a TS teenage girl apart from her peers.  Feeling like you don't quite measure up to society standards is never an easy thing to deal with, and knowing how you don't measure up doesn't make it any more palatable.  It isn't that TS makes a girl or woman masculine, but you certainly don't feel like you are quite an average woman.  It is hard to feel like you can be accepted for who you are, when you feel so apart from the average.  Fortunately I am taller than the average TS woman, although this brings me to the conundrum of sharing TS with them, but somehow being different from them.  I feel that I can't even fit in with TS right somehow, because I tower over them, so sometimes I feel where do I really fit in?  Where can I be accepted?  Hard things to wrap my head around.  Yes, every woman has her body issues, but this condition is so linked to your womanhood, accepting yourself is not without difficulty.  This diagnosis may not have been the most devastating by some standards, but it certainly changed how my life would play out.  I have faced unique challenges, and will most likely continue to do so for the rest of my life.


K

Pen and Sword

My love of books and reading, along with my deep desire to write has made me think about the power of the written word.  The power an author has in their words placed on the page is tremendous to behold.  Authors take the reader in, hopefully if they have great skill, and essentially share their "world" with the reader.  Whether it is fiction or nonfiction, the author is the ultimate creator of what the reader experiences.  The phrase the pen is mightier than the sword comes to mind.  Seeing just how much damage a scathing article can have on someone, or how deeply people come to love characters in a favorite novel or series, makes it apparent how deeply we connect with the written word.  I have a friend and real blogging maven, who I am always amazed by how she can share an experience, making it come alive somehow on the page.  There is something compelling about sharing one's emotions and thoughts on the page, because somehow in writing it down, the emotions behind it feel stronger or more visceral.  That also allows some sense that those feelings or emotions have been worked through in a more concrete manner.  Giving expression to what rages inside feels necessary somehow, and the pen seems the most expedient way of going about expressing emotions, and working through something nagging at the mind.

K

Just Crusin' and Snoozin'

In January of 2011, I embarked on my first cruise, and it ended up being quite the saga adventure.  I was terrified of the notion of being on a ship for seven days out on the sea, visiting new places, stomach viruses and seasickness a possible issue.  Visions of The Poseidon Adventure or Titanic . . .

 

capsized or sinking ships . . . don't forget the ice burgs . . . danced through my head.  I am a worrier by nature and every big, bad, scary scenario came to mind.  

Traveling day, Saturday, came and as we were driving to the port and I was "trying" to distract myself by reading, my mom teases me telling me some small boat off in the distance was the ship we would really be on.  A real comedian.  The process getting on the ship seemed never ending; checking in, getting the cards to use while on board that had our names printed on them, passport checks, security, having our i.d. picture taken. 

Once on the ship we could finally go eat and look for our family friends, there would be about 31 in our group, that were joining us for the week.  We get to our room, and honestly, it much smaller than I had imagined.  Seven days in that room, it was going to be funnnnn.  Ship practices required a lesson on emergency procedures, at muster stations.  OH, yeah, life vests and life boats, really settled my nerves down.  Finally, we leave port and the ship has a sail away party; basically we sail out of port to music, dancing, and games on the lido deck.  Dinner every night is in a large dinning room, served by the same wait staff each night, where we were to remember to have "fun, fun, fun," according to the maitre d'.   Sadly, we were seated near a loud group of people in the dinning room, who proceed to dance, clap, and be annoying every night!  Our planned ports of call were Cozumel, Belize, Isla Roatan, and Costa Maya. 

We spent Sunday at sea, it was pretty uneventful.  All you could really do was spend time exploring the ship, seeing the sites, catching sun, kind of a captive audience.  Fortunately, planning ahead with seasick patches I  decided to wear from the beginning, I didn't get seasickness.  That night we checked out the nightlife, and I was tempted by karaoke, but there wasn't an available slot for me to sing that night, which I honestly wasn't brave enough for yet.

Monday in Cozumel was lovely weather.  We hung out at the port area, browsed the shopping, had some fun at Fat Tuesdays.  Yard long drinks, music, and Mexico.  I got a pink cowgirl hat, quite a pretty hat if I do say so myself.

Tuesday we were in Belize, not my favorite place in the end.  First of all you have to get on a small boat to get to the port, and I didn't like that part at all.  The port itself was not much to write home about.  It was a bit scary, and venturing out beyond the port didn't happen.  That night though, the turbulence started . . .

Wednesday morning we were supposed to go to Isle Roatan.  Because of the weather we couldn't make it to the port, despite several attempts by the captain to pull in.  We ended up spending the day again at sea!  OH, and the ship kept on rocking because of 100 mile per hour winds..

Thursday we were supposed go to Costa Maya, but instead we headed back to Cozumel.  Same port, but this time, rainy and cold weather.  Well, it was January.  It was  odd being in Mexico with this cold, wet weather, not what I anticipated for this cruise.  

Friday was another day at sea, I decided to do some more reading, yes, I spent time reading on a cruise.  I actually finished a book for my book club and started a new book.  I also took naps, it just seemed the thing to do, since I was pretty relaxed I couldn't help but catch a few extra Zs.  We went dancing a few nights as well.  It was a small club, but I had a grand time shaking my booty on the dance floor to the loud music.  On board entertainment was readily available.  We caught one showcasing songs from various decades with dancing and singing that was pretty entertaining.  Since there is also shopping on the ship, I did a little exploring of the shops and I got beautiful earnings and a necklace for myself.  What is great about a cruise is you make it your own.  If you want to take excursions and explore the ports that is up to you, if you don't want to venture out you don't have to.  Plenty of people spend much of the cruise aboard the ship only.  You make the cruise what you want it to be.

I did also finally get to perform at Superstar Live Karaoke.  Our family friends were cheering me on as I sang Man, I Feel Like a Woman by Shania Twain.  It was incredible singing with a live band, super scary, but so exciting too.  I was so nervous up there, even with two rum and cokes in me, I kept feeling my mouth get dry and sticky.

Another thing that was special on this trip,  were the towel animals left in the room.  I don't know what it was, but I got a kick out of the different animals on the bed every night.  I even took the towel animal making class they offered on the last day, and bought a book on how to make them. 

Finally, on Saturday morning we had to get off the ship, very early I might add, and headed home.  It ended up being an interesting experience, and I did relax as much as I could with the bad weather and swaying ship.  When everyone asked if I would go on a cruise again, I said I guess I can be forced persuaded to go again .  I admit I did go on a cruise again just this past January, much to my astonishment, it wasn't half bad ;0)

Where were you on 09/11/01 . . .

I was heading to the University of Tampa for class and work. Heard about the first plane on sports talk radio that my Dad had on.  No one was fully aware it was an attack at that level yet. Class of course was cancelled, and my mind was reeling as I learned a second plane had hit. In the Honors Program Lounge a group of us watched the TV coverage, I felt like I was watching disaster movie and not real life. Later in the Dean's Office where I worked I just sat there numb and in horrified disbelief, and again witnessed more TV coverage when they brought in a small TV.  I just sat there shuffling papers, really not knowing what to do with myself and unable to focus on much. When I got home my Dad and I continued watching the coverage, it was just something I couldn't shake myself from at that point. My Mom got home later that night and we watched President Bush address the nation.  I went to bed feeling the shock, disbelief, fear, anger, etc.  I am sure the whole nation felt that day.  Essentially, I remember feeling numb and disconnected somewhat that whole day, as if I wasn't watching or a part of this real horrific event, it was too shocking and too unbelievable to think it was actually happening.  And now as I reflect ten years later on 9/11/11, I still recall that numbness, shock, anger, etc. like it was yesterday.  Never forget and God Bless America!!

The Great Hair Debate

As a girl with naturally curly hair I have noticed a certain change in how I am perceived when I straighten my hair.  Typically I let my hair air dry and the curls come as they please, however I do straighten it on occasion, and I get an interesting perspective when I do so.  It appears that with straight hair is somehow a more acceptable look, not that anyone says that, but I feel that way when people seem to comment more on the straight hair.  It might just be my perception, as I have felt marginalized for years seeing straight hair get the glamorous attention and always felt curly hair is the "also ran."   It has always seemed that straight hair is the sophisticated, sexy, superior style; curly hair is the playful, girlie, maybe cute style but not at all attention grabbing.  People even tend to think curly hair is the indestructible helmet of thick and unruly ringlets.  I can offer that that is not true, curly hair needs care and is quite delicate, thank you.   I will continue to play both sides of this debate, but make no mistake I am a curly top, and will always be.  Straight hair is fun, for a time, but I enjoy the ease and comfort of my ringlets, they seem to suit me.  To the other naturally curly tops, I say flaunt it and let the straight heads envy your curves and body, because you know secretly they do ;0)

Spring Ahead

Back in November I talked about Falling Back and how much easier it is to adjust to when we set the clocks back.  Well, Sunday we are at it again, this time setting them ahead.  Okay, this should be fun.  Every year that Daylight Savings Sunday I dread because I really feel the loss of that one hour.  The whole week is thrown off, and it just feels like a constant state of tension because it can't possibly be that late, can it?  Again forced to adjust to time change; this time not in a fun, give me more time way, but in a dreadful, take away time way.  Ugh, stop the insanity I can't take it anymore.  One hour really does a lot of damage to the psyche, and it won't be pretty.  Stay tuned to see how I survive.

Perfection With a Dash of Impatience

It is an odd thing to realize something unusual about my character and personality, I am a perfectionist who is partially extremely impatient.  I find it hysterical that I have a mix of needing things to be just so, that is perfect, while being unable to be patient with things.  Take for example when I go to a place to paint paint-it-yourself pottery, I am all ready to paint something beautiful and fancy, but then get to the actual painting and just want to get it done, all the while wanting it to look as nice spectacular as the displayed items in the studio.  I race through for the most part and then get results that most would think are probably passable for decent, and think, never again, this looks like a child did it.  I try to overcome this, but find it hard to say, take your time and do it well, no, I want to do it well without time or effort.  I like to be good at things for sure, but never wanting to actually have to be slow and methodical about it.  Why I end up stressing myself about  all this is a mystery, it is not like I am really ever being judged more harshly by anyone but myself and my own perfectionist mentality.  It is truly an exhausting mind I have, but I suppose there is worse.  I find carefree and lackadaisical to be rather frustrating to cope with in others.  I suppose Type A and Type B are meant to balance out each other in this world :0)

Fall Back

On Sunday clocks rolled back as they do every year to end Daylight Savings Time, or Fall Back which is the easier way to remember what exactly we do with the clocks every year.  It really got me thinking about how fast time seems to fly by the older I am getting.  It seemed as a kid time stood still and all I did was wait for it to move. Time between birthdays was sooooooo long and tortured me to no end, and now I cherish the time between each year; waiting for summer vacation, don't get me started on that excruciating pain.   It seems unfair as a kid I noticed the passing of time is such an acute way that things never seemed to move fast enough and now as an adult things are whizzing by and time just keeps going and going and it feels like before I know it another year has gone by.   Possibly because as adults we get so caught up in so many responsibilities we can't notice something as mundane as the passing of time except when it is gone, but as a kid we have the sense to notice it and take it in and always remain aware.  It just seems interesting that as a kid the passage of time tortures us and we can't wait to get it to move, but as an adult we blink and realize it is gone and want it back.  On the other hand it makes sense, kids are less aware of the fleeting nature of time and don't see the possibility of its end, as an adult you do see that finality and get that shock with each milestone along the way as more mile markers get ticked off.  This makes me realize that carpe diem might not be so bad every once in a while, just that chance to grab something and hold on with all I have so I won't get dragged along without some sort of real proof I was there.  I guess thinking about where it all leads can be daunting and scary.  I have a friend with a posted quote online about how could we lie in our graves dreaming about what we could have been, well, very true indeed, although I don't think my reason for seeing something in that is the same as hers.  Inevitably I guess the clock runs out, how one gets to the end is up to them, and what they choose to think happens after that last tick as well.  I know what I think, and guess all the steps I take are leading me to that and being aware of that every so often isn't such a bad thing.  Growing up and having life move along is a good thing, scary for sure, but a must.  So as I changed the clocks again this year, I suppose a lot went through my mind about time and its meaning, isn't that grand :0)

October = Halloween (And SO Much More)

Well as October moves along and Halloween gets closer I start to think about what it is about this time of year that starts getting to me.  Once the Halloween decorations go up my mind goes to the obvious ghosts and ghouls (of course I prefer a less blood and gore Halloween) to Thanksgiving and Christmas.   Silly as it seems the Holiday Season start for me with October and Halloween, because with the festivities that begin in October I can start preparing for the next few months of craziness.  Of course Thanksgiving doesn't have the same party and fun tone of Halloween, but it has the family gatherings and time to reflect that can be valuable.  Christmas then combines the festivities of Halloween with a period for refection with the coming New Year as well. Funny for me this time of year is really kicking into high gear as I get to thinking about the silly ghoulish days of October, the quite peaceful time for thanks in November (and a nice LONG weekend), and the crazy wild ride that ends with December and the New Year.  Happy Halloween :0)

Nothing to Fear . . .

I have a really awesome friend, who loves to go for things, try something new and scary, and seems to on the surface never worry about it.  I give her credit and wish I could be so bold, I do try with a great deal of trepidation to step out of the "box," as she has so kindly put it, and just try.  I guess it is what makes us unique, she is the one who can go for that difficult thing, or so it seems to me, and I like to stick with the game plan.  Spicing it up is not really part of my repertoire and I don't really feel successful when I try to accomplish the lofty goals I really would love to set.  I know failure is not necessarily a bad thing, it can have its positive and life-affirming impact in the end, so they tell me.  Failure doesn't really scare me so much, to be honest, I just like kind of knowing a head of time if there is even the slightest chance for success and if I can't say there is, I say, ah, why go for it.  Sitting here on a Saturday night I think to myself, why am I blogging about this, haha.  Quite philosophical silly of me and  I wax poetic as if anyone really cares about my little take on life and very important regular matters.

Rainy Days and Mondays

Well, Sunday night again and I am thinking to myself, Monday, ugh.  Funny how fast the weekend goes by and then bam, Monday appears yet again to beat me down again.  Sunday though seems especially prone to going by really fast.  It always seems no matter how early I get  up on Sunday, before I know it it is Sunday night and the week begins again.  I suppose that is a good thing, I am still here and still have things do accomplish during the week, but sheesh, why does the weekend have to be over sooo fast before I have to do it all again.  I don't know what it is about Monday, probably the getting started and having the next few days looming and knowing what things must get accomplished.  Starting is the hardest part, just getting the motivation to get going is always the task and always the most difficult, especially for me.  Once I get going in the week I do great, but it isn't easy.  Loving Monday, not going to happen, not for me anyway, it is the one day that I can't seem to get overly enthusiastic about, try as I might to put a positive spin on it.  So, I bid adieu to the weekend and hello to Monday, my nemesis and likely to remain so, but I will take it down and survive to see Tuesday :0)