Friendship

After moving from Denver to Phoenix, I was miserable. It was my first big move as an adult and I’d left behind everything and everyone I’d known for Hubs’ job and a new adventure. After a month of my moping around, Hubs began suggesting I meet one of his colleagues. She had also moved from Colorado and we just might get along.

I protested. I could make my own friends, thank-you-very-much. I’d later learn that she had similarly protested, but relented much like I did – mostly to get him to stop talking about it.

Sometime in January 2007, O’Kerri walked into my life and turned my world upside down. We often joke about our reluctance to become friends and our gratitude toward Hubs for “setting us up.”

We started slowly. We met for lunch, for a short hike, for pedicures. Soon, we were walking, hiking, camping, going to movies, eating, laughing, and hanging out in the pool together. We even met sort of accidentally in Las Vegas once.

She moved to Oklahoma just before Christmas one year and I bawled like a baby. We began road tripping together, usually to Denver for the Romp to Stomp, and once for a show at Red Rocks Amphitheater.

We have traveled nearly 7,000 miles in road trips together since 2009, and are scheduled to enjoy another 1,800 miles together in the next 30 days. We sing along with whatever’s playing on the radio (Pandora and XM are awesome on road trips), talk about world problems, life’s problems and joys, chair dance to Madonna, stop and take ridiculous pictures of SHEEEEP and cows, try our hand at silly photos with rocks and macro photos with ice. We’ve totaled one car, read one book, adopted one puppy, and likely embarrassed at least one sister-in-law. We’ve shared at least 10 hotel rooms, countless meals, inside jokes, and pedicures. We’ve even taken the Prius sort of off-roading.

Oddly enough, she has a Jeep and we’ve never taken it off-roading. Hm.

We welcome other people into our friendship, enjoy being with a bunch of people, and we revel in time spent just the two of us.

2009 - Four Corners Monument the day before I wrecked the car.

2009 - Romp to Stomp

2010 - Canyonlands Natl Park, Utah. She coulda been stuck.

2010 - Romp to Stomp breakfast!

2010 - Romp to Stomp. She watches while I try to get up out of drifted snow.

2010 - post Romp to Stomp. I'm good at approximately 3 things. The self-portait is one of them.

2011 - I desperately wanted to play with these cows.

2011 - SHEEEEP!!!!

2011 - Romp to Stomp. Remember how she didn't help me the year before? Payback, baby.

The prompt was to limit this post to 400 words. For a woman I love more ‘n my luggage, I only need six:


I am NOT a hairy peeg!
--+--+--+

We’d like you to explore friendship. You can talk about a current friendship or one from your past, a friend you met over kindergarten snacks or happy hour at your first job. Examine your emotional interest in the friendship and the role it plays, or played, in your life. The word limit for this prompt is 400 words.

Travel Tuesday: Germany From the Archives

Hubs and I took our honeymoon almost 11 years ago. Lufthansa had just arrived in Denver and was doing a special deal for round-trip direct flights between Denver and Frankfurt for some ridiculous price like $350 per person. The deal ended on the day of our wedding, so we took our honeymoon a month before we were married. Hubs' family *loved* that idea, let me tell you.

That's sarcasm dripping down your monitor, by the way. But they do love us, so there you have it.

I lived in Germany from 1983-1987 with my parents and remember it fondly. I'm sure it was hard at first, especially for my Mom. I still have lots of good memories and was so excited to revisit it with my then soon-to-be, but might-as-well-already-be husband.

So here I am, 11 years later, trying to remember how it was possible I was that thin and still thought I was fat, how I was that young and allowed to marry, and where the heck we were when we took these pictures. :-)

RemembeRED: Sassy S40

How I love the feel of pavement beneath my tires, the wind over my hood, and the music from my speakers. I love the thin air, the curves of these mountain roads, and the freedom in these road trips.

She brought her friend and we left Phoenix early in the morning. In Flagstaff for breakfast, we continued for sightseeing at Four Corners. She and her friend laughed and talked and sang. The joy in their voices, their bodies during Vogue was almost enough to make me wish I was human to share in their glee. Almost. I love being a car. I love being *this* car.

We headed to Mesa Verde. She and her friend got out sometimes, then back in to chatter about what they’d just seen. I luxuriated in the late winter sun and enjoyed the admiration of passersby. I am a good-looking vehicle, you guys. Seriously.

As the weather cooled and the night darkened, she and her friend started talking about dinner. They drove to a place in Durango and returned a few hours later, chilly, heavier, and laughing again. She and her friend really enjoy spending time together. I’m happy to take them everywhere safely. And fast, please.

The next morning, she and her friend chattered about the day ahead. I’d be in the real mountains soon enough. We’d go over passes at 10,000 ft elevation and I’d feel at home again. Phoenix isn’t bad, but there aren’t enough mountain roads to let me shine.

Approaching a blind curve, she changed lanes to pass a slower car climbing Wolf Creek Pass. Still at the speed limit, she handled the curve like a pro ...

HOLY CRAP! What the heck was that?! Something bit me, then held on while it sliced open my underbelly. Oh my god! I might not make it out of this one. She and her friend are okay. I’m okay, but I’m not driving anywhere anytime soon.

Going down the mountain on the tow truck is depressing. I’m a CAR, for Pete’s sake! With TURBO!

I hear them say “totaled,” and I know she’s heartbroken. She loves me too. She comes back to clean her things out, runs her hands along the interior, and sheds a few tears. “Goodbye, Sassy,” she whispers. “You were a really great car.”

I huddle in the parking lot and wait for the wrecker to take me away.

I still miss this car. Sigh.

--*--*--*

Do objects have a memory? Does a rocking chair hold the essence of the snuggles it has witnessed? Does a pottery mug remember the comforting warmth it offered a struggling soul?


The dictionary defines personification as “the attribution of a personal nature or human characteristics to something nonhuman, or the representation of an abstract quality in human form.”


This week, tell a piece of your story from the point of view of an object who bore witness.

This Time Around

I am 35 years old. 35 years and 4 months, minus a couple of days. When my mother was my age, it was April-ish of 1987. Here are pieces of what I know about her life at that time.

On a Rhine River cruise in 1986-ish

• She'd been married to her second husband for 11 1/2 years.
• She'd served her country in the United States Air Force for a period of time, where she'd met her second husband.
• She had three children: a girl: 16, a boy: turned 14 in April 1987, and a girl: 10
• Her youngest sister had been killed 7 1/2 years earlier by a drunk driver.
• She had lived in Idaho, Oregon, Mississippi, Michigan, and most recently Germany for 4 years with her husband and youngest daughter.
• She had lost custody of her eldest 2 children to their paternal grandparents approximately 10 years earlier.
• She'd confirmed approximately 7 years earlier that what she suspected for years was true - the man she grew up calling "Daddy" wasn't her biological father.
• She'd had a breast and lymph nodes removed and was undergoing chemotherapy treatment for breast cancer.
• She was incredibly creative with her hands. She created beautifully crocheted gifts and items for the house. She knitted clothing and fun things for others. She had spent time creating items with macrame and Artex paints.
• Her husband had acquired a Commodore 64/128 computer and was learning PrintShop with her youngest daughter. She typed and printed letters on a dot-matrix printer to mail to her family back in the States. She made a big deal out of calling back to the States for special occasions.
• She was tall, shy, and beautiful.

I suppose it makes sense to look at my life at this point.

Yosemite Natl Park, 2011

• I've been married to my husband for 10 1/2 years.
• I have no children, but love my cats like they are children.
• All my siblings are alive and well and I thank goodness for them in my life.
• My mother's eldest children are now 41 and almost 39. They have 5 beautiful children of their own between them.
• I've lived in Mississippi, Michigan, Idaho, Germany, Washington, California, England, California again, Colorado, Arizona, and most recently Texas for 7 months.
• I lost my mother to breast cancer 3 months after I turned 11 and my father to depression and suicide less than 2 years after I got married.
• I've had 4 mammograms and all signs point to "a little lumpy, but healthy."
• I am surrounded by amazing family and friends. I am thankful every day.
• I don't consider myself creative, except when I write. I've never been a creator of things. Just stories and essays.
• I have a Windows 7 laptop, desktop, and Android smartphone. I can get online any time, anywhere, and I hardly ever write anything that I print. I very rarely mail anything and I don't much like to talk on the phone.
• Somehow, I didn't get any of the tall genes from my parents and am only shy in large groups with new people. I will talk to pretty much anybody.

--*--*--*

This week's GBE2 prompt is Time. This is a post that's been rolling around in my head for at least 4 months now.

Fiction: Saltwater

Juliana heard the phone ring. She heard her father’s voice, though not his words. Suddenly gripped with a need to get away, she flung the covers off her bed and grabbed her running gear.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway outside and Juliana fought back tears. She didn’t need to hear Hank’s words. She didn’t want to look at his face right now.

She yanked open her bedroom door to see Hank standing there with his hand raised, as if she’d interrupted his knock.

“Juliana, honey,” Hank’s eyes were red.

“No, Dad. Not right now,” she pushed past him into the hallway.

“It’s 5 in the morning, honey, where are you going? I need to talk to you about your mom.” Hank followed her down the hall.

“I’m going for a run. I don’t want to talk about her right now,” Juliana stepped through the front door.

“Punkin, we’re going to have to talk sometime,” a tear ran down Hank’s face.

“Later, Dad. I’ll be back later.”

Juliana hit the pavement with a determination unlike anything  she’d felt before. Every footstrike took her farther from her home, farther from the news she didn’t want to hear, from the father with tears in his eyes, from the mother she could barely remember.

As she ran, she thought about all the things she didn’t want to remember. She tried to override those memories with forced thoughts about happy times, happy places, better relationships.

The memories took over and tears streamed down her face and all she could do was run. Faster, harder, farther away.

Her sobs echoed around her and she realized she was on the other side of the river, at the mouth of the canyon. She collapsed on a bench, finally allowing the pain to shoot through her body.

--*---*--*--*

“The cure for anything is salt water….sweat, tears or the sea.”
~ Isak Dinesen, pseudonym of Baroness Karen von Blixen-Finecke

For your creative non-fiction tell us about the last time that one of these three things “cured” you. If you are going with fiction, have your character resolve a problem using one of the three (or all three!!!).

Thinky Thursday: Remembering Ryan

This is much more important to me, to my heart, than previous thinky posts. Today was supposed to be my cousin Ryan’s 21st birthday. Instead, I am here writing about his death from a drug overdose.

You know, drugs. Like the ones sold on the streets, in back alleys, by thugs in rags. Or, in Ryan’s instance, drugs, like the ones prescribed by doctors, to people with specific conditions like anxiety and depression. And sold not in a back alley, but in an apartment in a “good” neighborhood. Not by a thug, but by a mom who sold prescription medication to anyone who would buy.

Ryan was a good kid with an illness. He was addicted. He successfully completed treatment once, and that addiction just hung on until it could get Ryan’s attention again.

It’s been almost 4 years now since our family lost 17-year-old Ryan. Regrettably, I never got to meet Ryan. Since his passing, however, I have learned about an amazing young man. I have gotten closer to his parents and met some of his friends. I have learned that although I never met Ryan, our family lost someone truly special.

Please, talk to your kids about prescription drug use. Maintain control of your prescription drugs and learn how to dispose of leftovers properly so another family doesn’t have to tell this story. Be part of the solution: Ryan’s Solution.

If you have some extra room on your prayers list, please keep Ryan's parents and sister in mind.

Wordless Wednesday: Stop SOPA and PIPA

 

Want to help in the fight against SOPA / PIPA? First, go learn about the bills. After that go contact your elected officials. Wikipedia has a handy-dandy page set up which allows you to locate your state representative.  

Check out theoatmeal.com's stand on it and see where I got my content for today.

Pet Peeves

I've been lurking at Word Nerd Speaks' blog group GBE 2 and have let the past several prompts slide by, not feeling any particular drive to post about them. Then this one popped up and I'm a little uncomfortable with the speed at which I listed a whole bunch of pet peeves in my head while I was driving 800 miles this past weekend. 

Overheard at The M -n- J Show

Before dinner:

Me: What do you want to do about dinner?
Hubs: I don't know; what do you want to do?
Me: Well, I'm hungry and feeling a little dizzy; maybe you should drive. How about Pei Wei?
Hubs: Okay.
--*--*--*

After dinner:
Me: I'm still feeling a little weird. Kinda dizzy.
Hubs: Maybe you just need to fart.

I have nothing else to say.

Ridiculous

Once upon a time about 6 years ago, a friend of mine and I were in her car listening to a CD her then-boyfriend had given her. Suddenly, this song came on and we lost our minds dancing in the car while driving in traffic.

Since then, I have allowed Hubs to listen to this song and watch this video. Now, anything really important he has to do is generally associated with peanut butter. I can't explain it. You'll just have to watch. The video below is safe for work. There is no profanity or nudity, but I can't promise you won't attract attention from your cube neighbors. Just saying.

Fiction Friday: Football Fever

Keeping my eyes closed, I stretched my legs in front of me. I must have fallen asleep during the game. I felt Jim stroke my hair and kiss my cheek.

"Did I miss much?" I felt sheepish, knowing this was important to him. Sometimes, a girl needs to snooze, even with a muscular, handsome young man at her side.

"Yeah, total bummer. Arkansas beat Kansas State. How was your nap?" He gave me a sweet smile and pushed my hair off my face. I don't think I'll ever get used to feeling like this when he looks at me.

Thinky Thursday: On Sharing

Based on some blog hopping I've been doing, I've been thinking along some of the same lines as a whole lotta other people. Take S. Stauss's post on Dancing With Elephants, which in turn will take you to Masked  Mom's question Can I Get That In Writing?. I also noticed BlogHer had a tweet yesterday that led me to Elizabeth's encouragement to keep writing: Don't Stop.

This leads me to discussions I have had with Hubs, writing prompts I have chosen not to participate in, and eternal questions that roll around in my head.

I'm pretty open. There aren't many things I'm not willing to share. I've talked about the loss of my parents, I've talked about the way my depression manifests itself in my life. I've talked about living in Arizona, traveling to Mexico, and moving to Austin.

There are topics, however, that I keep close to the vest. I maintain contact with friends from various periods of my life. Some topics, some stories, though part of my story, are more the stories of other people. Or, there's no way I've found (yet) to tell the story and still allow folks in the story to maintain their desired level of anonymity. Sometimes, even "changing names to protect the innocent" isn't enough.

I write because I'm drawn to do so. I love putting words together and making connections with people. I love telling stories, reading stories, learning, and teaching. There is some naval-gazing inherent in having a personal blog, I think, but I do attempt not to spend too much time there. If I did, I'd have to come to the same conclusion my friend AM did as she posted on Facebook this morning.

Ok. I have figured out why plow pose is in yoga workout. So when you feel like, "why the hell am I doing this?" Your belly chub is staring you in the face and threatening to smother you. That's when you say to yourself. "Yep. Need to increase my workout intensity cuz that just isn't attractive at all". This was my deep thought for the day...as I stared at my belly roll.

So, what are your thoughts? What is appropriate to share, what's best kept under wraps? Is it possible to be an authentic writer without spilling all the beans?

Romp to Stomp 2012

I am starting to put plans together with O'Kerri for our annual road trip to Colorado for the Romp to Stomp out breast cancer in Frisco on March 3. This is one of the most fun events I've ever done for charity (and I've done a few!).

If you're in the area, come by! If you're not in the area, cheer us on virtually or make a donation to the cause on my team's fundraising page.

I Romp in loving memory of my Mom, Julie, my friend's Mom, JZ, in celebration of my friends SA, JM, KB, my grandma MMF, and my aunt IP.

Thinky Thursday: Marriage

Hubs and I regularly have conversations about all kinds of random topics. We often solve  problems in the political process while driving around town, and the whole world comes together when we drive between Austin & Oklahoma City, if I can stay awake north of Georgetown.

About a month ago, we had a discussion about marriage, and I was intrigued by his stance on it. The discussion of gay marriage has been front and center again lately, and while I struggle to understand why it's even a discussion, Hubs has an interesting take on marriage as a whole.

Image from Pinterest

Hubs said he believes marriage itself should be completely removed from legal arrangements. Marriage should be a church thing instead. This caught me a little off guard, as he was the one (over a decade ago) to insist we get married versus just living together. My viewpoint was that I wasn't sure I believed in marriage, and what it meant. I wasn't sure I needed some piece of paper or a ring (though I do like sparkly things!) to show my love for him, or his for me. His argument was that it was a societal expectation, and his family would likely freak out just a little bit if we never got married. It would also be easier to have joint purchases, credit, etc, at the time.

Now, though, he's not necessarily sold on the idea. (Don't worry, family. We're not discussing divorce!) While it's true it made things easier for us on many fronts, we have different last names, which gives us grief in several ways, but that's another post for another day.

I wonder about his perspective in making marriage a church institution, and removing any legal benefits or implications *just* because a couple is married, allowing individuals to name whomever they choose as their legal partner/beneficiary/responsible party, etc. You might say he's suggesting a more definite separation between church and state, if defining marriage as a church institution instead of a legal one.

With regards to our gay friends and family, it would seem to make things easier, at least on paper. A church marriage, then, would be similar to a baptism. There are no legal implications, risks, or benefits of a baptism, and so a marriage would be a spiritual connection between people that is for the two of them to enjoy/understand/seek.

His take is that all we need is a legal document that declares who is in charge of our benefits from specific parts of our life/estate/medical needs, etc. (Unrelated, but interesting, my cousin and his husband are the agents named in our will should we both become incapacitated.) His argument is that legal should be legal, and church/marriage should be church/marriage. He clarified that he's referring to any legal "stuff," not just those things traditionally reserved for spouses.

I had forgotten about this conversation until I saw this piece from NPR: When It Comes To Marriage, Many More Say I Don't.

He is not against marriage, nor am I. It's just an interesting angle I thought would be interesting to share here and see what you think.

This is a big topic, one that could lead to lots of discussion. Share your thoughts in the comments and let's have a conversation. I can see this possibly getting heated, so please remember to keep the conversation polite and not personal. Okay? Ready, go!

Hidden Treasures: Words

I've been thinking today about a WordNerd topic, but decided against it. Instead, I'd like to share another one of Grandma's poems, this one from about 7 years ago. Enjoy!

Words

Click to see larger photo

Words are such empty, useless things
Until dawn breaks and a robin sings;
When hope and excitement await the earth
With the promise of renewal and rebirth.

When rain falls softly on garden beds
And plants and flowers raise their heads;
A sure sign of good things to come,
Of beauty and love, true and wholesome.

When sunset paints a beautiful scene
To frame the day that lies between;
To bring peace and rest to all mankind,
Leaving all sorrow and bereavement behind.

When nighttime falls gently and hides the pain
With sweet rest to restore hope to begin again.
Then words, unuttered, are felt in the heart,
Like lovely music becoming such a necessary part.

                                                       April 21, 2005 6:30 a.m.

2012: Word

I've spent several luxurious hours today blog hopping and I've been really enjoying reading the thoughts and stories other people are willing to share. As this is the beginning of January, many of the posts I've been reading this past week or so are all about lessons learned, goals to strive for, and new beginnings to uncover.

Last week, I read Periphery's The Gift of Vision, Karen at Time Crafted's post about One Little Word and it got me thinking. It also reminded me of a post Word Nerd wrote a few weeks before about Looking Forward.

This speaks to me for a couple of reasons. As an instructional designer, I constantly tried to remind myself to look at something from the learner's perspective. What advantage does this graphic or that sentence provide to the learner? These guiding principles help keep me - and other members of a project team - on track when we are in danger of allowing scope creep to overtake the project.

2011 in Review

Once again, we come to the end of one year, the beginning of another, and socially sanctioned opportunities to reflect on the past 12 months. Once again, we received holiday cards and end-of-year letters from family and friends, and once again, we did not send cards of our own. I've said it before, but it bears repeating. Our decision not to send cards has nothing to do with how we feel about our family and friends and has everything to do with our laziness and inability to plan. :-)

Here is a summary of our life in 2011.