what's for dinner?

I am blessed with an abundance of folks who want to know what can we do to help. This has been a difficult question to answer. First I fight pride, in which I tell myself that I can do it all (and if I had to I could). Then I hit my personal endeavor to have balance in life, even in the times of chaos. But, what do I need help with? My employers have been gracious in giving me space to take care of Joe (and I already work from home a great deal, so that helps). My in-laws, in the midst of their own chaos, have been fantastic to us, as always. Even as I type this Joe's Dad continues to work on our bathroom renovation. Friends and family have visited and come over to stay with Joe when it has been necessary for me to leave the house for work or 1 quick run to the grocery store. Which brings us to food. When each day falls into line, the only thing I really don't feel like I've been able to keep up with is food. (I think the patient is trying to make up for the 5 days in the hospital when he ate a total of about 8 chicken nuggets and a breakfast sandwich) I had a good start the first couple of days home from the hospital. But, as the days went on and I've been working more along with taking care of Joe, the house and the bathroom -having diverse and nutritious food was starting to lack. I mentioned this to one of my wonderful congregants and asked if she might have recipes or suggestions for food that I could make easily and would freeze and reheat well. I did not get any recipes or suggestions. What we have gotten is food. 

   I have been in the church my entire life. I know that when crisis hits the people of the church make casseroles. My family did it growing up. I've done it. I've seen churches across the country do it. But, in all of that, I've never been on the receiving end. I have had no idea what a truly tremendous blessing this is. To know that I can go to the freezer and not just pull out a frozen pizza or a can of soup from the cabinet, but a ready to go home cooked meal. I nearly tear up just thinking and writing about it. My husband gets the nourishment he needs to heal, while I still have time for the many extra loads of wash (thanks to night sweats..gross), cleaning, work and who knew - a few extra moments each day to just spend time with each other.

   So, as difficult as it was to ask for help. I am so deeply grateful to everyone who has given to us. I pray that everyone has a community of friends, family, coworkers, congregants that steps up to help out in times of chaos. I hope that this reminds me, that even in the busiest of 'normal' it is always possible to just make a double portion of dinner and give it to someone in need. I challenge myself (and anyone reading) to look around and see if there is someone we can give to before they even ask...new parents, recent widow, sick parent, injured spouse, single parent, family moving, lost job...how the list goes on.  I think pride might be the vain of more folks than just me, but why have community if we can't help each other?

TMI?

I just posted a new album on Facebook of our recent hospital and recovery experiences. Thinking back to my early FB days it took me while to even join this great social networking endeavor and more time to upload photos and such. Then I realized, that I like taking photos and sharing them, I like looking at other friend's photos and so I didn't think much about sharing my albums (with discretion and knowledge of the public nature of the FB forum). So, the photo albums went up sharing life's most and least exciting moments. We've all been through this, so why am I reliving the experience here? Because, tonight I wonder is this appropriate anymore? How often do I see folks post full albums other then a wedding, kid's birth or birthdays (the really major events of life)? FB is still full of photos, but the one off mobile upload type. Not the narrative full photo album type. So I wonder, too much information? Or loss of the narrative? Or is the narrative happening in this real time immediate upload/update manner and in this instance I'm among the nostalgic who like the refined story line of the post-event album? But then, even as I write this post and flip back to FB randomly selecting friends from my sidebar to see what kind of albums they have I find a nice mix. Some with overflowing mobile upload albums, some with albums full of their children, and some like me posting narrative albums of the exceptional and life whatever it seems to bring. So, at the risk of over-sharing, I think I'll continue documenting my life and sharing it with those who take the time to subscribe (or whatever the latest term is) to me and look through my albums. (I'll also go on record here, that I am excited about the possibilities in the upcoming change to the Facebook Timeline.)

Pride will be the death of me

We are going through a series on the 7 Deadly Sins at my church. In my research today for worship and Sunday School lessons, I took the time to take a quiz to 'discover my sin'. Here are the results.

Greed:	Low
Gluttony:	Low
Wrath:	Very Low
Sloth:	Very Low
Envy:	Very Low
Lust:	Very Low
Pride:	Medium

Take the Seven Deadly Sins Quiz

Now, I thought some of the questions were a bit extreme and so may have scored lower on this then I really struggle with any of these sins. However, I find the relative proportions that I struggle with each quite 'dead' on and very interesting. I've always been very concerned about keeping my pride, having a strong image and so forth. My interest in quite peeked to take a look at where my sense of pride crosses the line from healthy trait for a successful person to sin. In church we'll be taking this subject not from the traditional lens of Pride vs. Humility, but from the perspective of Pride vs. Confidence in God's Call on your life.

11 years

It took me 11 years to walk back into a blood donation space and give. I lied about my weight as a senior in High School in order to donate. But they rolled the veins on both of my arms and left me with huge bruises, no donation and a fear of blood donation. I've since been healthy and free of needle pricking until December. I'm still healthy, but had some scans in December that required an IV. I lived. Beyond that, I really wasn't fazed by it at all. So, I decided the next time the opportunity to donate presented itself I was in. That came about this Sunday as the Blood Mobile parked itself in our snowy church parking lot. We spent the morning talking about living a life that counts. We told the starfish story - person throws one of millions of beached starfish back into the sea and says - It matters to that one.

I hesitated on my way out of the church and then just felt really silly that it had taken me 11 years already and another day could not be wasted. So, I did it. It seemed to take a while to draw the blood out, not sure if that was because the bag wasn't agitating or because I was intentionally trying to slow my nervous heart down. I realize that by the nature of my profession I live a life that counts, but there are still many ways that I can make my life count for more. Blood donation is free and takes very little time. It has become to me like donating my hair. I have the ability to grow hair at a fairly fast rate, so when it is long enough I cut it off and donate it to folks who've lost their hair to chemo or disease and grow it out again. It occurs to me now that I have the same ability with blood. I have healthy blood and the ability to reproduce it. It seems downright selfish not to share my hair and blood with those who need it. I hope you would consider doing the same. You'll never know the lives you change/save but one day it could be your own.

Dreaming and Praying

I have two takes on dreaming today one is that which happens in your sleep the other is when we dream about life goals and ambitions.

I've twice in the last week had a dream about someone that I haven't seen in 10 years. We recently friended on Facebook, but I've otherwise had no contact. His role in the dreams are random but he's the only identifiable person. So, I wonder, is it appropriate to tell the person? People seem to get weird when you tell them you've had dreams about them - especially two. Then I wonder, why am I dreaming about this person? Is it so many fond memories rekindled by the reminder of his existence? But, what I finally come to when random folk from my life or life's history appear in my dreams - especially repeatedly is that I am to be praying for this person. I may never know why, but this is the conclusion I come to. So, if some day you feel like you've been prayed for and you don't know why just may be you've been a star in my dreams.

The best writer's could not have sculpted a better finish to pairs figure skating. 31 and 36 year olds - Shen Xue and Zhao Hongbo (pictured above) - of China after 18 years as partners and 3 as husband and wife finally won Gold at the Olypmics. Silver medalists Pang Qing and Tong Jian of China have also inspired me. Their performance to "Impossible Dream" was so powerful and personally timely. I'm inspired by both pairs. I feel there are so many people in the world today trying to live the impossible dream. May be it is just because I live in the world of art and non profit - which both struggle in "these hard economic times." But, I still believe. I still dream. I still chase the dream. If it took 18 years of living in dorms and rigorous training schedules for Shen and Zhao to win Gold then I can be patient at a mere 29 and a life lived in many places and at many speeds to not have 'won gold' in my own way yet. I know this, but I just don't always remember it. In many ways I have won gold simply for continuing to do what I love and am passionate about. So, to all those entering the career world or parents of innocent little ones - do what your heart tells you to do. Encourage our children to be what THEY want to be. To chase their passions not their pocket books. Happiness is the true Gold medal - I can see it in Shen and Zhao and Pang and Tong. Living the impossible dream is not just possible but probable.

:30 going on 3:00

My commute to church on a Sunday morning (read: no traffic) is 30 minutes. During rush hours (read:6am-9am 3pm-7pm across the metroplex) it can take about 1 hour. Yesterday it took me 3 hours. I talked to mom, little brother, read email, played BeJeweled, pondered life's greatest mysteries and wrote this blog in my head. I should have known to get off the freeway when I entered it at 4pm and the alert sign (you know those ones that flash amber alerts and low visibility) displayed: 635W at Josey Lane Accident All lanes closed. But the effort to move out of the left lane across five lanes of already stopped traffic at Hillcrest (read: 7 miles east of Josey Ln) seemed too much of an effort. 2 hours later I revisted this decision, moved one lane over and couldn't go any further. So I waited it out. With nowhere special to be but home I was surprised to find myself calm and patient. (read: I HATE commuting and traffic ask my fiance-I create a world to avoid it at all costs)

Less then a mile from Josey lane as the current alert sign read 635W at Josey Lane Accident HOV and left 3 lanes closed I had a realization about my state of contentment. For an accident to close 5 lanes of traffic by 4pm something major happened. There are people who won't get home tonight-or may be ever. But I will. I'll miss my yoga class, but still get to eat dinner, watch LOST and old episodes of Dexter with my beloved. The sign went blank at that moment. With in seconds all lanes of traffic began to move. Within seconds I began to see the dust, tire marks, burnt out flares and a major chunk of the concrete divider between East and West missing.

And so I did. I made it home. Happy and thankful.

trying to do my part

Today is Blog Action Day, as I posted in the video before. I've struggled with what to write since joining on, but made the commitment in order to force myself to come up with something. I don't consider myself a great environmentalist or 'granola' type person by any means, but living in Texas it doesn't take much to sound like a broken 'liberal-tree hugger' record. I attempt to buy recycled, take my reusable shopping bags to the store, recycle and reuse as much as I can.
I haven't researched into all the ways that climate change is really affecting me, but wanting to take care of the earth has just always been a part of me. When I was a child it was my responsibility to crush the coke cans and when the bags got full, mom or dad would take me to the collection place and I'd get my couple dollars. I don't know if we started this tradition as a young lesson in earning money or saving the planet. But, it worked as both. I don't recycle to make money anymore but just to be a better steward of my world.
What I struggle the most with now is buying organic, recycled, etc good for the planet products (I've not yet figured out how to go cold-turkey on consuming, though I've made cut backs) because they're often more expensive. As I've entered the stage of living paycheck to paycheck and even to credit card when the banks are empty it is hard to buy in a climate conscious manner. I was pleased just yesterday to find a package of four 100% recycled material AC filters for 2.98 when just 1 filter ran up to 4.98.
So, my blog action post today is not filled with any great scientific knowledge or leads on good products or great call to action. It is simply the average 20-something, living in partnership, trying to make it in the world and do my little part at the same time. So, I challenge you to take the extra moment to put the can, cardboard, empty cereal box in the recycling container. Take the extra moment to compare the product you're buying with environmentally friendly equivalents. Take the step to spend a little more now that will save you in the long run, like a better light bulb, when your air conditioner breaks or the fridge stops cooling-replace your appliances with EnergyStar and the like. Buy the 4 pack of 100% recycled AC filter. There are so many better options out there today..easy to find..the packaging is usually GREEN. Buy a whole pineapple instead of a pre-cut pineapple to avoid consumption and trash from the plastic container. Say NO to Plastic or Paper and bring your own reusable bags. If we each make some simple changes on our own, we'll make a global difference together.

Labor Day Statement

Driving to church on Sunday, listening to NPR, I heard the host quote the Labor Day Statement of so and so important person I assume. I can't recall what was quoted but what struck me was that someone made a Labor Day statement. I thought to myself how important must one be to make a Labor Day statement? I think I want to be important enough one day to make a Labor Day statement. Then it occurred to me..I could make a Labor Day statement. Who's to stop me? So when you quote my Labor Day statement, that's Kelly with a y. :)

Dearest Peoples of the blogosphere, I here by make this Labor Day statement. Work because you love what you do not for money or power or other motive. Step out and do what you want to do. Did you major in musical theatre and now you're an accountant because life happened but you'd really rather be back on stage? Did you really want to work the 9-5 at the post office, donate to NPR and write children's books in the evenings but instead you're stuck in hotel customer service? Write your books. Work for the socialist govt run postal system, may be one day you'll get decent 'socialist' health care. Oops, sorry I got of track there...

To my five followers and other anonymous readers, I say life is too short to spend 40+ hours a week and 2000+ hours a year doing something that doesn't make you want to do cartwheels in spring grass.

I have finally, 5 years after college, taken the plunge into living off theatre (and worship design). Yes, we're poor but Joe owns our home and we eat well. I sent out resumes to every local theatre I could find online in late July. As of five minutes ago I've been offered and accepted one scene design, offered a stage managing position and two after school teaching positions. All from people who've never met me nor are friends of friends. On my own merit as shown in my resume. (Thanks Nancy and Michael for torturing us with semester reviews) We may be in a recession, but an artist wouldn't know it..we're always poor! Where there is a will, where there is passion, where there is talent, there is a way to happiness. You can find yours.

I spent my Labor Day at a party celebrating the volunteers who make my worship design job a gift and blessing every week. Is yours a Labor of Love? Why not make it one?

may be a little

if a diamond ring is part of growing up, then I have to admit to growing up a little more Sunday night.

Seven years ago in the spring of 2002 I started dating a boy named Joe. We worked together in the scene shop at TCU. We dated for a year and half until I left for AmeriCorps *NCCC in October of 2003. We attempted a long distance relationship following winter break, but realized that wasn't for us at the time. Over the next years we stayed in touch and took a few vacations together between dating other folks. During my last year of seminary we began talking more and more and spending more time on my trips back to Texas together. Joe came to Berkeley for my graduation last May, I traveled for most of the month of June. Then, out of the entire country, I happened to find a job that actually uses my degree in Dallas and we slowly began dating again in July. The last year has been the run of a relationship that is a few months going on seven years. There was a lot we knew of each other and a lot we're still learning (about ourselves and each other).

Sunday night I was asked to come over to his house for dinner at 9pm. I walked in the front door to find an empty (and clean) house. I made my way to the backyard assuming he was working the grill to find him sitting at a candlelit table set for two in the middle of the yard. As I sit down at the table and we begin chatting Joe pulled a card out and handed it to me. He recently fell and I'd spent the early part of last week making him dinners and rubbing his back. He says he wants to thank me for taking care of him and I mean a lot to him. As I open the thank you card and begin to read the inscription what is really happening starts to hit. There is a heart shaped paper attached to the side of the card. I asked what the characters on the card say and he snatched the heart of the card and lit it on fire! The heart flamed and then flashed so bright creating a blind spot that once I regained sight in that spot he held the most beautiful ring. He is still saying wonderful romantic things that through magic, fire and jewelry I can't remember except the last line, "I want you to be my wife." I stood up to hug and kiss him, at which time he says, "Is that a yes?" Of course! Yes! Apparently yes was the cue for the friend in the field behind the house to light the fireworks. We watched the fireworks and he placed the ring on my finger.

Today I wear a beautiful white gold ring. The ring is his great grandmother's and the center diamond is from a brooch of his mother's. Joe designed the ring and had it built by the jewelry

store his father worked in when Joe was growing up.

To answer the first of your questions:

Yes, I am thrilled

I had hints, but did not completely expect it to happen last night. Really I thought it be at least another year until I got some of the clues lately, even then I thought I had six months or so.

The shock has not quite worn off yet.

I am still constantly looking at the ring and the card.

We do not know when the ceremony will be, we're in no hurry at all.

Joe works in the film industry and offices about 3 miles from my apartment, he owns a home in North Richland Hills -about 30 minutes from my apartment.

nope

Apparently it doesn't matter how old you are you still have to take a swim test at the YMCA. I feel for the girl who had to walk me through it. First she had to tell me that I had to be hosed off before I could get in the pool. Silly me for not showering first, but then again there weren't any signs posted requesting that one rinse off first. Anyhow, after being hosed off by a high school lifeguard boy I was returning to my town and shorts that I'd already placed by the lap lane when I hear, "Ma'am." Not a word I'm yet fond of responding two put with five lifeguards, two kids in the pool and me it was pretty obvious I was the intended. I turned and she says, have you been swim tested yet? -ugh, nope. [insert slightly confused look] She's obviously realized at this point that it is silly, but knows she has to do it anyhow. So I say, no worries, sweetheart, do you job. What do I need to do for you? She straps on the fanny pack and grabs her redfloatyrectangly thing and off we go. She points out the lap lane (which my stuff is already placed next to) and says I have to swim from one end to the other without stopping. I laugh and say, I'm about to do that for about 3o minutes, so I sure hope I can make it once. She acknowledges the simplicity and that there are so many regulations, etc. Off we go. I make it to the end!! I'm awarded with a green plastic bracelet to put over my orange paper version.

About half way through my swim I start to remember when I first started swimming laps, a mere 4 years ago, even though I grew up in Arizona. I wasn't much of a swimmer until Kristi challenged me to train for a triathlon in 2005. In fact, had I been made to swim test that first time in the pool when we began training it would have been a struggle for me to go one length without stopping. I could've backstroked my way through, but not the easy swim it was yesterday.

I was kicked out of the pool about 5 minutes before I was ready to yesterday (and 45 minutes before the pool should have closed). I was stopped upon entering due to lightning today. Waited 15 minutes, then got in only to be kicked out 15 minutes later and 15-30 minutes earlier then I'd planned. Flyer says pool closes at 4:45, but lap lane remains open all evening. At 4:30 the lifeguard says everyone out.

So, in just two days after a cartoon made be wonder if I've hit grown UP, I am at the mercy of a gaggle of red and white clad high school kids. Just, 15 more minutes please, kids? I wouldn't actually say it, they've (almost all) been real sweet. So now I'm hot (no ac in the apt), tired (I work construction in the Texas summer) and only half worked out. We've decided to attempt to beat the heat and get to work at 6:30 in the morning where I'll be reminded directly and indirectly by a group of mostly lovely old men that I'm both young and a girl. I don't know what grown UP is, but I don't think I'm there..I'm not sure I ever will be.

Growing UP?

When I was young I spent the summers with my grandparents in El Paso. My best friend for so many years lived a few blocks from them. We always joked that we couldn't take her mother to any movie because she cried at everything. We thought it was hilarious and couldn't imagine why all these movies that weren't even sad made her cry. I still don't know why. But, last night I found myself shedding tears in the first 15 minutes of a cartoon. Comforted only by the fact that my date was also crying. The story telling is absolutely amazing and we both cried at least two more times before all the credits rolled.

So, has the rest of me caught up to the grey hair? Is crying at the movies something that happens with age? Experience? lack of sleep? My same friend recently posted a beautiful blog on becoming grown up. When does this happen? 18? 21? graduation? marriage? job? birth? death? movies?

I am loved.

I just finished yet again a wonderful week of ROTC. They're all still sleeping, I hope. But, I had to leave upon completion of my ramp and showers last night. We spent the week mulling over the theme LoveStory. I thought it went brilliantly and against all my concerns and hesitation at least a portion of it all didn't fly over the heads of our JrHigh crowd as I thought it might. I only know this from my small sampling of dinner companions and work team, but each of them at least got something. Something clicked. Two more camps, I hope it keeps clicking, but am sad I won't be there to see it myself. 

The plainest emination of our theme for me came in my journey home last night. After a long long week of work and long weeks leading up to it, my team -BlueA- finished our 60' ramp around 10:30 thanks to the much appreciated help of many many other camp folks (WE THANK YOU!!) Then we showered, I loaded up the truck and at 11:15 headed to Dallas. I know folks were praying for me the whole way because it was any easy ride. Several called to check on me, some even stayed awake or were phones ready to be awake and talk me through the drive if need be. But no need be. It was one of the easiest drives I've had in a long time. I am loved. By a brother, family, friends as close as kin, 4 jr high and 1 sr high that have known me 5 days and worked their little buns off and still love me at the end of the week (I know b/c they said so). It is good to remember how much we're loved. The reminder just never gets old. If you're reading this..I Love you.

the good folks of the world

 I do a good share of ranting about my frustrations with folks in service. Today, that was not the case. I began my day by backing my beautiful blue truck through a wall. Yes, a wall. The rotted old wood wall of the shed across the alley. I ran over a tree limb, it popped, startled me, diverted my attention and boom. lame. totally busted my tail-light big ol'white marks surrounding it and some smushed boards on the shed. So, I called my daddy like any girl would do. I was already on my way to AutoZone at this point, but needed his confirmation. This is where I met Martin. 1 passenger side F150 '97 taillight in stock. He even came out and put it on the car for me. Martin refers me to English Auto Paint. I walk in 10 minutes before they close tonight and meet Sam. Sam takes a look and sends me next door to the collision repair. Says he'll be happy to mix paint for me tomorrow, but thinks I really just need to get the white paint from the shed boards buffed off and may be Miguel will just do it for me really quick. So, I move next door (I forgot to ask the name of this wonderful addition to my day, possibly Miguel if this is who Sam was talking about). He tells me if he buffs the one corner it will look very odd compared to the rest of the car. So, he gets an old Gatorade bottle half full of 'reducer' could be water for all I know. Wipes the two white scuffs clean! I owe him nothing. What a very nice collision man. I am very thankful for these three men today, they made a major annoyance as pleasant as it could be to recover from in this absolutely insane week. I met and confessed to a man named David who lives in the house on the shed property and tried to win him over complimenting his motorcycle (which is actually extremely loud often at late night hours, but oh well.) Now, all I can hope is that owner of the shed, Roy, is as nice as Martin, Sam and collision repair man. Thank you nice people of the service world. Today you are all greatly appreciated.

Piece of Cake

So, I led a cake walk last weekend and let me tell you it was no 'cake walk'. Which got me thinking, where do idioms like that come from? How did we begin to associate things that are easy with being a cake walk? Now the concept of a cake walk is very simple. Take chalk, draw a donut on the ground, divide into x number of sections and number, place matching numbers in container, walk in circle, draw a number, win cake. Cake Walk. A contraire! There are often more then twelve folks who want to participate, so you have to keep them in a waiting line, people just step into the moving circle so you end up with more then you began with, or you don't sart with enough and people start hopping numbers when there are empty sections. Then you have the slow times when the same kids keep playing and winning and playing and winning but there are others that haven't won and you don't want to 'leave a bad taste in their mouth' (especially when we're talking cake). You spend two hours yelling, guarding a table of cakes from hundreds of rascal children and 'bending over backwards' to make a fun experience. Ahh!! I'm 'dog tired' just thinking about it.So, where do these phrases come from? I'm most aware of our sayings when I'm around folks for whom English is a second language. Some of them are explainable, others 'throw me for a loop'  and 'boggle my mind'. 

Just as I'm sitting here writing this blog the other two folks in the room have used barrel of laughs and beating a dead horse in their conversation completely oblivious to the content of this post. 

This post may end up clear as mud, but toss it around a bit, mull it over and get back to me.

Big Brother

This post does not relate to the fact that my little brother out grew me years ago, but of extreme confusion and a bit of fear at exactly how much this world we live in knows about us. My friend had his phone stolen yesterday. He walked out of a restaurant, realized the phone was on the table, walked back in to all the same people except a new couple occupying the table he had been at but no phone and no one has seen it. Manager's office - no phone. Lame. Soon he realized the fully charged phone was off, thus confirming in his mind someone that he probably sat within 10 feet of eating his dinner slid a cracked screen G1 into their pocket and turned it off. (Thus disabling the GPS, yes he's been down that road). So beyond the lack of morality of these restaurant diners on a rainy Texas Wednesday, it is really his call to the phone company that is troubling. As he goes through the arduous process of explaining to ten computers and a dozen reps in several countries his story he gets to the all too bouncy and happy woman who has a series of questions to determine identity. Questions that could come from any number of places (thus not info he has given to the phone company. First, this was a business phone, so all purchasing, billing etc went to his boss. Still there was info on my friend. Which of these five addresses have you been associated with in the last four years... How old is Roy Carpenter. A name I'm willing to post here, because the phone company already knows it. Roy is an uncle to my friend. An uncle that except for a random visit when Joe (friend who lost phone) had a delivery in the building next door to Roy's home six months ago he would not have seen in over 4 years. Why does the phone company know some one's fairly distant uncle? And why do they assume we know the age of our fairly distant uncle's? What happened to your high school mascot? Mother's maiden name? favorite pet? street you grew up on? What happened to information that I give when opening an account? Who is your source T-Mobile?? You scare me!!

High Road

So I often ponder the saying, what do you do when nobody is looking. It is easy to do what is right when we know we're being watched, but do we do the right thing when no one is watching or might ever know? I don't live up to this all the time, but I am daily trying to become a better person. Today, I had a simple almost silly moment of this. As part of my AmeriCorps position with Habitat we're taking weekly tests on our construction knowledge. We're suppose to have read the construction manual. (As I said to them, if we'd gotten it at the beginning of the year, I would have read it, but it is not my top priority to sit down and read this large document at this point) So, I've been floating fairly successfully through the quizzes based on my own knowledge having been on the sites since Sept. Today I came across a question that was really only answerable if one had read the manual. Apparently an exact copy of a graph in the handbook. I made a comment when I came upon the question (after I'd just kidded someone else's silly question) about needing a calculator, to be informed it was in the handbook, etc. I knew one of the three answers because it applied to the style house I've built with Habitat. I had no clue on the other two. Except for my teammate. The one I'd just given a hard time to for his silly question. Muttered the answer in a cough-like creatively random sentence. I figured out his meaning, based on what knowledge I did have of the question and figured out the correct answers. But as I sat there staring at them I couldn't do it. Grades don't matter except for pride. These quizzes are simply tools for learning. I'll forever know the answer to this question and putting those answers down might have given me a close to perfect quiz. I just couldn't do it. What good would it have done? I couldn't be proud of my near perfect score if I'd cheated.
I'll be the first to say, I don't always take the high road. But for a few minutes today, I did. I hope to say that more often as my life goes on.

11 days...

seem like eternity. I find that when I am sick I forget what it is like to be healthy. I have gone from one sick to another in the last 11 days and I can't seem to remember what it is like to feel good. (no help that medicines for both can cause 'marked drowsiness') To wake up refreshed, be energized and productive all day and go to bed without pain or propping of the head. This has all gotten me wondering how often I've gone 11 healthy days and not even noticed. Not counted at all. How when things are good I take them for granted. I'm learning the hard way how many things I take for granted in life...friendships, health, fitness, nutrition, faith. If 11 days of illness has felt like eternity, what is eternity going to feel like? I think about my friends and family who fight long term disease and still manage to conquer their world. I wonder..would I be strong enough? What if 11 days were 11 months or 11 years...eternity.

losing a playmate

*Update: shortly after posting this on Nov. 7, Suraja passed away. Thanks to everyone who is caring for her family, friends and those who only know her in spirit and have been praying.

Suraja was hit by a car and I'm told she is dying. She's the one on my left in the photo. I don't want to believe that and I will keep praying that she heals and gets to live out her playful life, spreading InterPlay to the world and mostly Mexico. I first heard the news on Tuesday night moments after my nerves of the election were lifted and joy settled in. What a moment of great joy and great sadness. Over the week the news of Suraja's accident has caused me to think about my relationships. I only new Suraja because we were in an ongoing InterPlay course together (Leadership 1, now Life Practices I think). I wonder about all the times I took for granted an opportunity to learn from Suraja. To listen to her stories about Mexico and how life is different here. How often are there people in my life that I know and care about but still don't give enough time to or the best of me to? Why do I just want to curl up on the couch and sleep in the office right now or continue to write this blog instead of socializing with the three other wonderful coworkers sitting around me? Each in our own little worlds. I mourn that I might never have a chance to play with Suraja again. I hope for a future in which I take more time to play with those around me while they're around.

like fabulous yellow roman candles

During the move I found a stack of scraps of paper and a small notebook half full of quotes. These must be quotes that caught my attention in High School and college that I made it around to writing down. I don't know if they're all accredited to the correct people, but here's what I wrote. I think it says a lot about who I am and ways I've grown since my first encounter with these words.
"You will recognize you own path when you come upon it, because you will suddenly have all the energy and imagination you will need." - Jerry Gillies
"Prayers are sometimes answered by the experience of more struggle, by our being plunged into situations where we must risk more than we ever dared before." - "Primary Speech" by Ann & Barry Ulanov
"If everyone thought before they spoke, the silence would be deafening." George Barzan
"To know someone here or there with whom you can feel there is understanding in spite of distances or thoughts expressed - that can make life a garden." Goethe
"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say an uncommon-place thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles." Jack Kerouac
"Go for someone who makes you smile because it takes only a smile to make a dark day seem bright. Find the one that makes your heart smile."
"If you don't let your needs be known, you ain't got no bitch."
"If your religion does not change you, then you had better change your religion." Elbert Hubbard
"There is no religion in which everyday life is not considered a prison; there is no philosophy or ideology that does not think that we live in alienation." Eugene Ionesco
"What we need is not the will to believe, but the wish to find out." Bertrand Russell
"He does not believe that does not live according to his belief." Thomas Fuller
"Magic is believing in yourself, if you can do that you can make anything happen." Foka Gomez
"This above all: To thine own self be true. And it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man." Shakespeare
"A positive attitude may not solve all your problems, but it will annoy enough people to make it worth the effort." Herm Albright
"Faith is a process of leaping into the abyss not on the basis of any certainty about where we shall land, but rather on the belief that we shall land." Carter Heyward
"Faith given back to us after a night of doubt is a stronger thing, and far more valuable to us than faith that has never been tested." Elizabeth Goudge
"So many gods, so many creeds, so many paths that wind and wind, while just the art of being kind is all the sad world needs." Ella Wilcox
"What am I suppose to do, go over there and beg?" "That's why God gave you knees."
"Optimism is the cheerful frame of mind that enables a teakettle to sing, though in hot water up to its nose."
"Don't worry about the world coming to an end today. It's already tomorrow in Australia." Charles Schultz
"Religion is a candle inside a multicolored lantern. Everyone looks through a particular color, but the candle is always there." Muhammed Neguib
"God is a comedian playing to an audience too afraid to laugh." Voltaire
"Some of us are becoming the men we wanted to marry." Gloria Steinem
"People take different roads seeking fulfillment and happiness. Just because they're not on your road doesn't mean they've gotten lost." H. Jackson Brown Jr.
"It only take a breeze to fly a kite and it only take imagination to soar an idea."
"Must be able to carry your end of the conversation without a wheelbarrow."
"There are no strangers here, just friends we haven't met."
"Practice random kindness and senseless acts of beauty."
"The biggest disease this world suffers from is people feeling unloved." Princess Diana
"When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left, and could say, 'I used everything you gave me.'" Erma Bombeck
"The creator of the universe works in mysterious ways. But he uses a base ten counting system and likes round numbers." Scott Adams
"A wise old owl sat on an oak; the more he saw the less he spoke; the less he spoke the more he heard; why aren't we like that wise old bird?" Edward Hersey Richards

Dependent

What makes a person dependent? Over the past few weeks I have spent a lot of time contemplating dependency. As I see it in others - as I see it in myself. I come back to this issue ever few years, it seems. Starting a new 'job' I notice that quite frequently my fellow AmeriCorps and I are wary to make a decision for ourselves. Should we really nail this in? Is it exactly right or close enough? Most of the decisions would not be world ending if they were wrong nor irreversible. Building a house is, when you get down to it, just not rocket science. At what point in time does a person begin to make their own choices and at what points do we cease to be able to function alone. When and why do we become completely dependant on someone else telling us our choice is correct. Why were we at one time able to write in personal journals desperately hoping no one ever found and read them and now our value is found in how many people read our completely public personal blogs. (Guilty myself, I'm counting ya'll) I recall one point in my life when I really struggled with this. My life was so consumed with school, theatre and work obligations that I was completely happy to be dependent upon my significant other at the time to plan my social life. I'm confident I could have created my own social system if need be (and have at times we weren't dating) but at the time, I was perfectly content with letting him. Is it because I knew I was capable myself and made an active choice to depend on him? Is there a good dependency? I like the definition of independent, I believe in most things that is how I'd like to be.