Thought for today….

“I don’t know how to live in a world where my Dad isn’t.”

–George O’Malley

When it rains, it poors….

Posted May 15, 2007 

May has become a bad month for me.

It wasn’t always. Growing up, it was finally sunny again and not too hot. We spent more days outside playing and summer was always right around the corner which meant I got to spend my days with my mom when she was out of school as well. And there is still one exception: May 24. Only because that’s my best friends birthday, so that day’s okay.

There are some obvious things that cause May to be a bad month.

One year ago come May 25, is the anniversary of my dad’s death. That is what it is and brings up all kinds of bad emotions because of that. But this May 25 will be especially bad. This will mark the first night Sean and I will spend apart since we were married. So not only am I going to feel weird with Sean not coming home, but I will already be an emotional wreck due to no longer having a father.

You want to hear the kicker? It’s my first Open Enrollment. Ack. I’m already pretty bad when it comes to enrolling people in their benefits. But I’m going to be responsible for approximately 25% of the employees here. Well, maybe closer to 20%. But still! And my final shift? 5-10pm on May 25. I’m beginning to think that it must be Satan’s birthday by the amount of crappy things that culminate on that day.

But, it will give my 11 hours of overtime. That’s not so bad.

On top of everything, Jenel is leaving me tomorrow. That’s one of the most bizarre things to me. Jenel’s been around all the time with the exception of perhaps the year I started college at Harding. But we talked all the time on IM and the occasional phone call, so it was not like we had completely lost contact. And I know we won’t lose contact now. But it’s not the same just calling up and being like, “hey, let’s take a walk,” or “hey, I need to talk with someone now.” And phone calls work, but it’s not the same.

And although Sean and I have talked about moving to Virginia for years, there’s not one anywhere near where she’ll be. So, we have no idea where we’re moving (not that we know when we’ll move…), but I know it can’t be anywhere close to her. Not anytime soon at least.

So another tragedy in my life happens in May.

I think May brought showers, not flowers.

A New Page

I’ve always loved writing in journals.

More often than not, I’d find a beautiful journal and I’d look at it and want to fill every page with my thoughts, feelings, words of wisdom, my legacy.  I always thought that one day my daughters would find it and think, “Wow.  Our mother went through a LOT of what I’m going through.  I had no idea.”  The problem is, all of my journals are scattered around with about half or more left blank.  They are in varying degrees of emotional states and maturity.  To be honest, I miss being able to spill my words out on a page in my own handwriting knowing that only snopers and future generations might see it.

But I’m bad with blogs a lot.

The beauty of blogs is that you get immediate feedback from the people you choose to share it with.  You crave the comments and the thoughts of other people, if they feel the same, if they’re on your side, if they can show you a different perspective.  Eventually, you grow and change, away from those you originally chose to share it with.  Or, you grow and change, and you no longer feel the desire to share your thoughts, feelings, and memories with people who get to know you through your blog, an image, quite frankly that can be altered and shifted due to how you craft your words.

There was one diary I had finished.  It was my freshman year of high school diary.  I think everyone has that one year in school that complete redefines you and changes who you are forever.  That was my year.  I learned what it was like to lose friends that I didn’t want to, and that it’s okay to be selective about my friends (the latter lesson I learned a little later than I wish I had).  I learned that there were boys who found me attractive, and not just the gay ones either.  I learned that I shouldn’t be afraid of what other people think of your faith, only focus on what you believe and what you need to do with that knowledge.  I learned that there were good fathers who loved their children and showed that love to me too.  I learned that you shouldn’t take your parents willing to do anything for you forgranted, and because of that I’ll always remember the plate of cheese and crackers in the basement.  I learned that sometimes it really is better to just remain friends even if you can’t help developing a crush on the cute Hawaiin musician, because sometimes, even if he had liked you, you would’ve been a terrible couple.  I learned to not take yourself too seriously, but only to guard your heart seriously.

That diary was my life line.  It wasn’t until after I had finished writing in that diary that I really had people who I could tell everything to.  I was really depressed for a big portion of that school year.  That was my release.  I am so thankful for that journal that was filled with pages of my emotions and memories.

Last year was another year that completely changed me as a person.  My life was an emotional roller coaster.

In 2006 I learned what it was like to really become an adult.  I learned that your college degree is important, but sometimes it’s not as important as who you know.  I learned what it was like to fail at something and not learn how to make it right.  I learned what it was like to feel so completely in love that another person was the only person you thought about.  I learned what it was like to completely lean on someone who wasn’t my mom, and that it was okay.  I learned that a child can feel no greater loss than losing a parent that you hadn’t mended bridges with and now will never get the chance.  I learned what it was like living paycheck to paycheck.  I learned that your wedding day really is the happiest day of your life.  I learned that giving your heart to another person completely is the most freedom you will ever feel.

But I didn’t need a journal.  I had my fiance/husband.  I had my best friend.  I had my mom.  I had my roommates.  I had my club sisters.  I had my choir friends.  There wasn’t a secret in my life that someone didn’t know.

This blog was created not because of that.  This was created because I love looking back.  I love seeing how I grow.  I look back on that freshman year, and I realize how small my world view was and yet how I could barely handle it.  Looking back makes me realize I can move forward and not be afraid.

This blog is for me.  Those I share it with are welcome to comment and ask questions.  But it’s not about you.  It’s about learning and growing and raw emotion.  It’s about my life and what I can learn from it.

I’M POOPIN…. False alarm.

I’m not crying anymore.

God’s given me peace that I made the right decision. Granted, I still want to leave my job. And now it’s even worse because I had that out, it just wasn’t the right out. Didn’t stop me from applying from one of our biggest competitors. It’d matter more if I was one of those positions they’re trying to steal away. But there was something just a little satisfying about that.

I found the best thing in the world to make me smile.

Right here.

No joke. Everytime I look at it, I can’t help but belly laugh. It’s so utterly ridiculous. There. I was just thinking about it and I couldn’t stop laughing.

Labels of all things funny will now be labeled “I’M POOPIN.”

That’s all.

Sometimes I hate my life…

I did it.

I sent an email this morning to Laura telling her I can’t pursue the position I had been. I can’t take a nearly $3 pay cut (due to my merit increase in June) for only 20% off tuition. I told her I’m interested in the Admin Assistant position. I think I could do it. Once I was comfortable enough and the knowledge of a boss who’ll support me if I stick my neck out on the line, I could really flourish and grow.

I wish I did it with a happy heart. I want to throw away the almost 14 lbs I lost to eat a tub of Ben and Jerry’s and cry myself ot sleep.

The worst part is, I had the HR position in the bag. They knew, I knew it, but they knew it didn’t have the benefits I needed to justify taking such a huge pay cut. It hurt my heart. I liked them so much. But I need to think about our future. That more money in the bank means and better quality house in the future, vacations to enjoy that we otherwise couldn’t, and better means to fall back on for retirement.

But, as always, my head and my heart just duke out and leave me teary-eyed.

I need prayers. For what, I’m really not sure.

Crap!

Crap! Crap! Crap! Crap! Crap!

So, I’ve had a job interview, then I had a second interview. I thought it went well. I got along with the interviewers, it seemed really nice. Then they asked me this question:

Would you like to be considered for other positions if this does not work out?

I thought they mean the HR job they might have open in the not-so-distant future.

I told them I was interested in HR related jobs. They looked at each other an explained what they ment.

They ment the Admin Assistant for the CFO. $10,000 more a year, minimum. And tuition assistance 100% right away. Salaried, so I’d never have sick time. If I didn’t show up because I was sick, I still get paid for the entire day. A job they told me that my degree would be more valuable to.

So here I am. In turmoil. Again. Because God’s opening too many stupid doors. I told them that I would be interested if they decide the HR job isn’t for me.

But I don’t know. I need HR experience. But more money and a free MBA. And I’d be out of my current company. So right now, my life is at a standstill waiting on three paths:

1. Stay at my current job. Miserable and continually looking for another opportunity.
2. Get the HR job. Further my HR career, for less money, and a little bit of tuition assistance.
3. Get the CFO’s Admin Assistant. Put HR on hold. Get a free MBA, get more money, and start my free MBA right away.

Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap…..

I wish Sean would get home. I’m bursting to talk to him

My life is going well…really.

My life has made an upward swing.

Not that it was going down. But, the beginning of this year had a lot of growing pains.

First of all, I started living with a man. Men see things in a way that is so different from women. Not just on emotional issues, but those are included, what I’m talking about is physical.

Men do not see dirt.

It is in their genetics that crumbs on the floor or the couch are just not there. A dirty dish on the coffee table? What do you mean? Where is it? A pile of Reese’s peanut butter cups wrappers and dirty tissues on top of the remote control – non-existent in the eyes of men.

And, when I mention it, it does get better. For about 48 hours. And then we get back to the normal grind. I don’t want to seem like a nag, and Sean gets guilt-ridden too easily for me to bug him about things often, that I just pick them up with everything else when I bring my dirty dishes to the sink and my garbage to the trashcan.

Another battle is taking out the trash.

In my house, my father took out the trash for most of my life. Or at least every Sunday night he’d drag the cans out front. I’m not really sure if my mom or my dad was the one who actually picked up the trash out of our home and put it in the garbage cans at the side of my house, but regardless, Sunday night I always heard my dad dragging them along the stone and brick path to the curb.

So, I bestowed this duty upon my husband. He’s a guy. Guys don’t mind things being dirty and smelly. So his one household duty is to take out the garbage.

What I did not realize is, men don’t see a full trashcan the way women do.

Our trashcan in the kitchen is the one that gets full the easiest and most-often. Somehow, the garbage that is produced from making one meal turns into twice the size of the meal itself. And the fact that it’s easier to buy pre-package, portionally-correct foods due to Weight Watchers also produces more garbage than grilling a chicken breast and nuking a baked potato for dinner or gorging yourself on a family sized bag of Cheetos until your tummy aches.

When I can no longer swing our garbage can lid back and forth, I assume that the trashcan is full. Usually I leave it for my husband to pick it up and change it after he’s put some of his trash in it and then take it outside. No, it means you take off the lid, put it halfway on the washer (where I clean our clothes! Icccckkk!), and continue to piling the trash there. So once the piling starts overflowing, I now know it’s time for it to go out. As a hint that the trash can is starting to become a mountain, I generally ask him to throw away a heft pile of things while I act busy doing something for us. When he starts walking into the kitchen I just know that he’ll come back with a full garbage bag. Instead, he’ll notice that the trashcan is overflowing, so he brings it to our half-empty bedroom trashcan.

I know he loathes it. Most people don’t enjoy taking about the garbage, but I vacuum, do laundry, windex, and wipe down all of our countertops, so taking out the garbage and occasionally mopping the floors is not such a big sacrifice.

Then of course, there’s that whole sharing a bed thing.

I’m an only child. A spoiled only child. Which translates to I-got-everything-I-wanted-and-everything-you-wanted-and-had-it-all-to-myself! So sharing was always a little difficult for me, anyway. In the past four months, I have been woken up for some of the most unusual reasons:
· Smothered by blankets and quilts and sheets
· Being colder than ice due to no covers within for feet of me
· Smushed by an arm that weighs more than half of me
· Getting random, inappropriate body parts pinched due to my husband’s dreams telling him he had to
· My pillow was stolen because my husband had thrown his on the floor
And this doesn’t even cover what my cat does!

But I digress. I digressed a lot.

Life is good. I’ve lost 11.5 lbs in two weeks! I feel happy, healthy, and more energy than I have in a while. And the stomach problems that have seem to plague me for the past few years has yet to rear its ugly head in the past few weeks. And, there seems to be an idea of a promising position in one of two places. We shall see where this leads me. But until then, enjoy the comedy that is adjusting to married life….

Here comes Peter Cottontail…

My mom comes in tonight!

It’s been three months since I’ve seen my mom, but today she’ll be here! I know that almost seems silly. I would go from August to November without seeing my mom, and usually she’d only get a phone call with me on Sunday afternoon after both of us had been to church.

But things have changed.

I’d come home for a week in November. Two weeks later after an enormous amount of studying and late night readings topped by finals, I’d drive home for a month. And we’d celebrate Christmas and New Year’s and any other excuse we could think of to make comfort food and sweet desserts, and then I’d go back to school for another three months. March usually brought me to her or her to me. And then two months later I’d be back home for another three. We’d work together a lot during the summer, so my mom and I would hang out a lot.

Everytime I left, even if it was for just a week, I’d say, “Ma, I’ll be home _____. It won’t be too long.” Now, I never know when our next meeting will be. That breaks my heart a little each time I leave. Not just because I can’t give her that little reassurance, but because I can’t give it to myself either.

Sean’s father and brother are coming in. They’ve convinced Seth to come to Harding, so he’ll be joining us in Arkansas in August. But he needs to try out for all the wonderful music groups at Harding, so he’s coming up this weekend.

Unfortunately, my mother-in-law can’t come.

Okay, I know my relationship with my mother-in-law has been less than stable. But I’m sad that Sean doesn’t get to see his mom for some time now. Like my mom, we never know when the next time is that we will see his parents. Granted, they’ll definitely be here in August to move Seth in, but until then, he won’t get to see his mom for eight months possibly. Also, it’s because she’s sick. No one wants to be sick, especially during holiday times.

Although, I am grateful that I don’t have to clean like I would if she were coming. Men genetically can’t see dirt like women can, and my mom realizes that anything is an improvement compared to the way my bedroom used to be.

I’m getting everything ready to throw Easter for us on Saturday (due to Seth and Jackie’s early departure on Sunday), so I am excited for throwing my first shindig type event for family. It’s going to be simple: meat and cheese tray with condiments and rolls to accompany, fruits, veggies, and sidedishes to fit my Weight Watcher’s lifestyle. But I’m excited.

Wish me luck!

simplici.tea

I’ve decided I want to become a tea drinker.

Not like “I’m living in the South, sweet tea will replace my blood,” but starting my morning with a hot cup of tea with honey or ending my day with some decaf and good book with my cat in my lap. There’s something that’s so appealing to me to be a tea-drinker. I just feel like I’d see life as slower paced, every sip bringing me a little serenity into my day.

Maybe I just watch two many commercials and movies.

But I like tea. I really do. The flavors are much more pleasant to me than the bitter taste of coffee. There’s too many things in my life that are bitter without having to add it to the start of my day. I think I’m too much of a dreamer to be a coffee drinker. I’d rather sift through and explore the more complicated flavors infused in the tea bag.

I’d like to think I’m becoming a foodie.

I know I’m not really. I still prefer the taste of a McDonald’s cheeseburger to that of anything Sean could make me on the grill or one of those gourmet burgers you can get at fancy restaurants made out of ostrich meat. But Food Network has made itself a regular on my TV. I think I’ve learned how to change things in a recipe successfully and I understand better why you have some ingredients that might seem out of place but are really essential to the recipe.

I think that’s why tea might be more appealing. As I’m trying to understand and learn different elements of food, tea seems like a perfect compliment so I can understand some of the sweeter herbs and spices compared to the more savory spices you experiment with when it comes to dinner meals.

My life has been good recently. Not that it hasn’t been good in the past. But I’ve been smiling a lot more than I’ve been crying.

Sean’s got a job that he’s so excited about. It’s in a field he loves doing something he excells at. The money isn’t as good, the peace of mind that he’s happy with what he’s doing is work learning how to budget. Beside, I’m glad for us to learn how to save and appreciate more of what we may make one day.

Work has been a bit more hectic. I’m given more tasks at work. Ones that will give me great experience in whatever I choose to pursue. My biggest problem is that I tend to be swamped during certain parts of the month and then other times I have to pull from the dregs of my tasks to find something to do. Ideally, I’d like to be steadily occupied all the time, but this world’s not perfect, and I make do. I like most of my co-workers. Some more than others, of course, and others I wish would realize that just because they’re older doesn’t mean they’re my supervisor or know better than I do. Not that I know anything more than they do, but someone’s exhaustion and bad mood does not need to be taken out on me.

I love my husband. I get to hang out with my best friend on a fairly regular basis. She’s about to move and leave me, so I’m glad to spend time with her when I can. Most of the time, I have a full life and when I get my breaks, I’m generally grateful to have them.

Two days after my birthday, I’m going to start Weight Watchers. I need to lose weight. I’ve always been on the bigger side, and I developed bad eating habits my senior year of college. But after my father died, I fell into depression. And recently depression has resulted in over-eating rather than loss-of-appetite. I’m hoping this will jump start me into losing some weight and get back to the gym. I always feel good when I work out, and the little bit of yoga that I do get to do, I love. But when I get to come home and see Sean, I just want to sit on the couch and cuddle and talk. I don’t want a miracle. I don’t want to be a size 2. I just want some more engery, a little more self confidence, and the knowledge that I’m living a healthy life.

But needless to say, my life is busy. When I get home, there’s always something to do, whether I feel like doing it or not. I think taking thirty minutes to drink a cup of tea every night might give me a little bit more peace and perhaps a moment of simplicity in my life.

My Phone Call with Zach Braff

My usual Thursday night, I watch Scrubs. This week was no different.

But, the thing that made this different was, it made me remember the time that I called Zach Braff and talked to him.

I know what you’re thinking. Yeah right, Emily. Because I would too. I mean, my cat is named JD. You know when there are pets being named after characters on a show, that you just like that show a little too much.

I digress. During college, a lot of my obligations did not revolve around the airing of Scrubs (much to my dismay), so I would be forced to tape or download episodes so I could watch them. (And may I note, the episodes were not iTunes yet and all episodes have been deleted with my purchase of that season.) I had missed a certain episode (season 4, episode 9… I’m pathetic, I know) and so had downloaded the episode. I also love Garden State and Zach Braff’s blog was linked my livejournal. I noticed much discussion about calling Turk’s cell phone on Scrubs.

I was curious. My cell phone had long distance on it and I wanted to take advantage of it.

So, I dial the number. It rings. It rings again. And then I hear “Hello, Scrubs.”

I froze. I knew that voice. The voice that spoke out to me as Largeman from Garden State and the squeaky voice of Chicken Little. But most of all, the dorky doctor that had my heart every Tuesday. Zach Braff.

Let me recap the entire conversation for you:

ZB: “Hello, Scrubs.”
Me: “….”
ZB: “Hello…?”
Me: “Sorry, wrong number.”
ZB: “Are you sure.”
Me: “Yeah, sorry, bye.”

And thus, my phone call with Zach Braff.

And Sean will be first to tell you, that I do still beat myself up about it to this day.