Small changes

As human beings we are creatures of habit and most frequently I am a creature of bad habits.  This is not news to me and I often nurse those bad habits since repercussions are often few and far between.  I will now confess that one of my worst traits is being late. I'm not always late to everything, but I have this complete inability to be on time to work.  When I commuted over an hour to work and had to be at work even earlier than I have to now, I was actually on time or even early. Now, I live about 4 miles away and it takes me the maximum of 20 minutes to get here, but I am perpetually late.  It's not something I am proud of, but it's simply something that is.  Until the past week.

Every time I am late to work it runs through my head that I almost wish someone standing at the door glaring at me when I arrive so that I would feel more urgency in getting there on time.  At the same time, however, I want to be able to change my behavior simply because I know I should, not because someone is threatening me...well, whatever they decide to threaten me with to make me change. 

Finally last week I decided to make a change, just a small one, and see if that would get me to work on time and guess what?  It did!  So far for the past 5 days, I have not only arrived on time to work, but I have been early. Yes, early.  A small miracle indeed! haha!  I'm embarrassed to say exactly what small change I made because it's pretty stupid and piddly, but it worked and has so far been easy enough to stick with. Since I'm seeing such positive results right out of the gate, I think this will be easy enough to stick with.  And I must say that I'm pretty proud of myself too. 

Since I am always telling people to take baby steps and figure out what works for them to make any changes in their lives, I'm really trying to listen to myself.  I've been trying to give up soda cold turkey and finally threw that idea away, but I make every effort not to drink soda each day. I've been drinking a lot of water for years now, so adding in more water isn't going to make a big difference to me in terms of what I drink, but I got to the point of having 2 cans of some form of diet soda every day and now I'm trying not to have one at all each day, but if I decide I really want one, I don't beat myself up about it. Having one every 3 or 4 days is much better than having had 6 or 8 in that same time period!  I actually had a soda last night and afterwards thought, "This wasn't as good as I wanted it to be."  That's a telling thing to me. I plan to keep going forward, with baby steps.

I test drove another small change last night and that was putting down my iPhone and metaphorically walking away (metaphorically because I was laying on my bed watching TV at the time and just turned the phone over since I was too lazy to get up and move it on the other side of the room) from social media last night around 7:30pm.  Lately I've found that I fiddle with my phone and surf Facebook or Twitter until late in the evening at which point I finally realize it's time to get to bed and I never have picked up that book or magazine that I wanted to read.  For a while now I've deliberately tried not to boot up my computer at night because I can easily get caught up in reading blogs and checking various web sites if I do that, but the phone has become a big problem for me too, so I'm going to have to start weaning myself off of my evenings spent scanning social media.  I want a little to go a much longer way than it has so far. 

Small changes. I have faith that they will work.  Soon I'll start making more changes to my diet because that's certainly the most confused and messed up part of my life, but I want to get a firmer handle on the soda thing because I start declaring anything else off limits.  Just gonna keep putting one foot in front of the other I guess!

 

Bon Jovi's "What About Now" or "Why I'm Better Off as a Fandom of One"

Bon Jovi's new record, What About Now, came out on Tuesday and I, of course, sprinted off at lunch time to buy it.  Alas, the only places I've seen it in town - since record stores don't really seem to exist anymore - only  had the regular edition (12 songs) and not the deluxe (15 songs) edition which is why I do more business with Amazon.com than I ever do with local retailers since I seldom find music or books locally that I want, but can always find them on-line.  Of course, my deluxe CD doesn't arrive until Tuesday, so I have a copy of the 12-song CD in my possession as well.  Um...anyone want a free CD next week? I'll have one up for grabs. :o)

So, the new CD...where to begin. I'd heard the tracks What About Now, That's What the Water Made Me, Because We Can, Army of One, Amen and What's Left of Me prior to the concert a couple of weeks ago and prior to my purchase of the disc.  I listened to the BBC Radio One concert that they did earlier this year several times in preparation for the Charlotte show because I wanted to know the new songs.  *shrugs* It's one of the many quirks of being a fangirl.  I liked the songs, but after just coming away with an ambivalent feeling after the concert, I think that tainted my first listenings of the CD.  I listened to it twice the first day and was calling it "average" and "mediocre".  I'm not sure that the "average" label doesn't still apply, but mostly in terms of it's the typical record that the band has been producing in recent years. I was reading a tweet from Eddie Trunk saying that they band hasn't done anything hard rock since 1991's Keep the Faith and that's pretty accurate. I never thought of them has a hard rock band anyway, but my perception of what defines hard rock might be skewed.  The Jovi of recent years is more pop rock and that's ok by me. I'm not sure what I expect when a new record rolls out, but I'm trying to let go of any expectations I might have so they aren't easily dashed.

That's why I think I'm better off as a fandom of one.  It's so easy out here on the internet to find other fans and get into discussions, read reviews and blogs, and find out what people think of the music, but all that seems to do is frustrate me. Sometimes it sways my opinions before I even have the chance to form a true opinion of new music and I have to let that go.  I read some reviews of WAN and a lot of them were bad, saying things like "why can't they  make another record like Slippery When Wet?" (that one has been going around for years) and generally giving the band crap for not making a really guitar-laden, rocking record.  But now that I've listened to the CD several more times, I have to admit that I really like it.  Maybe not every single song (I'm not super into Beautiful World or Room at the End of the World), but it's a pretty solid record, if typical in terms of what they've released since Lost Highway and The Circle.  And labeling it "typical" doesn't make it bad.  It just...is.  *shrugs again*

I found it odd that they were starting a tour so much sooner than the record was coming out, but that is indicative to me that something is wrong within the band. I can't put my finger on it and they all still seem to be smiling and happy, but I think something's not right with the band and that is a sentiment I've seen expressed by others on-line as well and one that I had rolling around in my head before I realized other people thought the same thing too. Maybe it's because Jon wrote most of the songs on his own or with someone other than Richie.  Maybe it's because I have wondered after listening if this didn't start out as a solo project for Jon and then somehow morphed into a band record (in theory, if not in writing).  Something just feels wrong about the whole situation. I will not be shocked if this is the last new Jovi record we get for many years.  Dave has his theater career going writing music for Broadway shows. Richie proved with his recent CD that he can go out and rock all on his own. Tico is an artist and I assume still has his baby clothing line.  They have other things they can do and it's not like they don't all have plenty of money.  Perhpas it just is finally burning a bit that Jon gets all the attention and is the only one that actually has the recording contract and now the rest of the band are salaried players.  I've never cared about Jon Bon Jovi as a solo artist at all, so I would hate to see anything split up the band completely, but I expect this to be their last record and tour for a while. I'm be truly surprised if it's not.

And that may not be a bad thing.  Take a nice, long break.  Regroup.  Do all your solo projects and enjoy life.  Then get together again and write as a band.  Jon and Richie tunes are always the best in my opinion. 

I think I'll just continue to mosey along as a fandom of one now though.  I hate being swayed by the opinions of others that make me question whether I really like songs that I have always enjoyed or make me dislike something before I even give it a chance.  And I hate more hearing the complaints about this, that or the other which only add fuel to my fire of wanting to complain about things related to the band.  Social media and the internet can be great, but they can also be frustrating.  I want to kick back and simply enjoy  my favorite band and the great music they have made over the years.  I think if I can keep that idea in my head and allow myself to back away from a lot of the rest of it, I really will find my joy and enjoyment once again in Bon Jovi. I've loved them since I was 12. I know that's not going away.  But now I want to start to really appreciate them again.  I think I deserve that.  And maybe they kinda do too.

I think I've gone to my last Bon Jovi show

A friend of mine recently said she was going over to my Facebook wall to find my review of the Bon Jovi concert I went to a couple of weeks ago. I even had an email from my father saying he’d been expecting to see something about it.  People at work, who know me well, have asked me “How was the show?”  And I feel like I’ve let them down when I say, “It was just…meh…” and their faces fall, with a little bit of shock thrown in there too.

It makes me kind of sad to post that title, but I do think that the concert I went to a couple of weeks ago really was my last Bon Jovi show. Oh, when they tour again I may look for tickets, but I know I won't ever "settle" for just any old seats and prices continue to go up, so I think my days are done. I just counted 4 concert DVDs of theirs that I have, so I should be all set really.  Actually, when I start going through my Cds, I find more DVDs because I keep forgetting that some came with both. I think I even have one I've never watched which is so unlike me.

The show I went to was with my college roommate, using tickets her husband won from a local radio station. It was very gracious of them to include me and I appreciate it for sure.  As freebie, we knew they were going to be way up in nosebleed territory and they were.  All the way at the opposite end of the arena from the stage, but we could see straight out to them, so while the band was tiny, it wasn't that bad at all.  And they were FREE, so you can't complain.  Well, you could, but hopefully I didn't. Kelli apologized for them a couple of times but I told her not to. No need.  FREE you know.

The show was the standard rockin' Jovi show, but that's the problem. They play the same old stuff. They surprised me by pulling out "Always" for the final song of the THIRD ENCORE (nearly 3 hours of music! Woohoo!) and that was great, but otherwise it was standard fare. Which I know is good for the folks who have never gotten to go to a show before. They need, want, and expect that.  I get it.

What I don't get is that about halfway in, the guy behind me asks me to sit down.  I have to set this up for you though and I know I am venting a bit here and that I have fault in the matter as well. Just know that going in.

We were up really, really high - like only 5 rows behind us to the top probably - and had a straight-on view. I did not have to stand up and do my version of "dancing" which is really just standing there with little movement and in my mind I'm probably dancing. LOL  I did not need to stand up to see.  But I am not accustomed to going to a rock concert and sitting down.  We were, however, in what seemed to be the geriatric section with a lot of folks older than me up there. Not sure about the family behind me as I realized later they had a kid with them (around 10-ish), but still...older feel to our section. I stood at the first song and gave a passing thought now and then to the fact that maybe people could not see behind me, but it was only passing. I didn't look to see if they were sitting or standing or if they could see. I also expected they'd tell me if they could not.  That would make sense to me, but I own up to not paying attention to what they were doing and not caring that maybe 10 people - if that - in the entire section were standing up.

So halfway into the show I did sit for a song because my friend was talking to me. I should have sat for all the ballads, but again, I'm not a sitter at concerts.  When I decided to stand up again after the ballads, that's when the man behind me tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Ma'am, I've spent the last 2 hours watching you scratch your hair (I totally do that a little when I get hot) and scratch your butt (I did NOT do that -
I put my hands on my lower back a couple of times and rubbed a spot ON MY BACK) and I paid as much as you did and would like to enjoy this concert so I'm asking you to please sit down."   I did try saying something about how this was a concert and that's what you did, but I think he said something about not caring about that and then said if I did not sit he was going to go get an attendant.

So I sat because I did not want to cause a scene and his wife looked like she didn't want him to say anything to me, but what I don't get is why did he wait nearly 2 hours and get all riled up and THEN say something to me?  I wouldn't have lasted through more than 2 or 3 songs if someone was in MY way.  And I would have stood up when it became clear that they were not sitting down.  Or said, "My little girl can't see. Would you  mind sitting down?"  Because while him asking me at that point irked me, I would have done it and I think done it with a pretty good attitude in the beginning if he'd only said something to me.

I got a little internal giggle 2 songs later though when Jon Bon Jovi goes "Ok, if there's anyone out there still sitting on your asses, stand up for the Bon Jovi national anthem". (That being "Wanted Dead or Alive".)  Heh. Hee. Ha.  Yeah, he stood up.  But sat down again after that song.  *sigh*

I let the "guilt" fester for a couple of days and turn into righteous indignation (fueled by everyone I told about the incident going, "But you were at a rock concert!!") and then I got over it.  I figure there must have been other people behind me not interested in looking at my wide behind, but I'm honestly baffled by no one saying anything.  It's like how I always worry that I make too much noise for my downstairs neighbors and hope they would actually tell me if it was disturbing them rather than letting the anger and frustration build up.

All of that is not why I don't plan to go to more Jovi shows though. That put a damper on my evening, sure, but it's not why I think I'm done. I just think I'm over it. Not the band, of course, but the shows. As I said, they are pretty much all the same. No new tricks, even if they do new songs.  I won't keep paying for the same dog-and-pony show unless I'm right up near David Bryan, with the fans standing and singing and dancing.  But when you add in the ridiculously high cost of tickets these days, I find it hard to believe that I'll be willing and able to shell out the cash to keep doing the same old thing again.  And that makes me sad. It's the ending of something for me. Something I always really enjoyed.  And I think it's put a damper on my enjoyment of the new CD that came out this week, but hey, that's a blog post for another day. 

~ insert snappy title involving Richard Marx here ~

Back in early December I went with my friend Kelli to see singer Richard Marx on his solo acoustic tour.  If that name rings a bell it's because Richard was quite the popular guy back from around 1987 until the early 90s.  His first hit, "Don't Mean Nothing", came out in 1987 and he's still pretty well known for songs like "Right Here Waiting" and "Hold on to the Nights".  My personal favorite has always been "Take This Heart".

I never got to see Richard back in his heyday and that's probably a good thing because I enjoyed this show so much more.  Most people I told about the show scoffed, but Kelli was game to go and I had already purchased tickets as I knew I wanted to go, even if no one else did.

To be honest, I hadn't really listened to any of Richard's stuff since it stopped getting radio air play for the new songs until some time in early 2011 (or late 2010, it's hard to keep up) when I heard him in a radio interview on a local station and they were playing his song "When You Loved Me".  I loved the song and started hunting up a few of his more recent records.  Then I heard he had an acoustic record and snatched that up in 2012 and just loved it. I'm still behind in filling out all my Marx discography (I spent a lot of time last fall upping the volume of my Night Ranger CD collection you know), but I'll get there eventually.  It's cool in some ways because while the tunes aren't new, they are new-to-me, even if it's older stuff like Rush Street that I bought used a couple of months ago from a local store.

The acoustic record - Stories to Tell - is truly wonderful though so I knew I would enjoy the live show.  I thought I had snagged some pretty good seats, but they were better than I had expected:

Hi Richard!!  Can you see us???  (Yes, I know he wasn't on stage yet.  Humor me.)

It was a very cool venue as well.  McGlohon Theater at Spirit Square is part of the Bluementhal Performing Arts Center in Charlotte, NC and seats 700.  It felt like there could not be that many people in there, but the place was nearly full.  I guess when you're used to venues with 25K or more screaming fans, 700 doesn't seem like a lot.  But I loved that about the place and, of course, loved being so close. I never would have had seats this good 20+ years ago for a show of his.  And I admit that the older I get, the more it is about how close can I get to the band.  It's just more fun being up close.

I don't know what to say about the show except that I really enjoyed it.  Richard is probably the funniest person on Twitter and if you don't follow him, you really should.  He's just damned hilarious and he kept that up during the show. Between shots of self-deprecating humor directed at how his career has evolved over the years to taking a few shots at the ballads he is known for, he kept the audience entertained the entire time.  The man could easily do stand-up if he ever wants to change careers.

What a lot of folks don't know is that he has had a thriving career as a songwriter and producer even if he's not churning out Top 40 "hits" for radio anymore.  He did play those hits - "Right Here Waiting", "Hazard", "Take This Heart" (squee!! My favorite!!!) - and many others.

The song that hits closet to home for me is the song he wrote about his late father several years after he died called "Through My Veins".  I had been listening to that song and knew it was a love song, but hadn't thought it was a love song from a son to a father.  Oh, I knew it didn't always sound like a romantic love song, but I figured the "through my veins" wasn't so much literal as how people say someone just got under their skins and things like that. However, I had recently purchased a few weeks before the concert a CD/DVD combo of a PBS concert Richard did and he told the story of the song and then sang it. I cried my eyes out because it made me think of my mother.  Heck, even typing this it makes me get a little weepy, but I managed only a sniffle or two during the concert. I figured it would not be good to totally break down smack dab in the middle of things.  Might freak people out.

I want to go on and on about how much I enjoyed this show and the intimate setting and Richard's humor, but other than writing out a set list I'm not sure what else to really say.  His voice is in tip-top form - as is his hair, though I'm sure we all miss that sweet mullet he sported in the 80s - and I love to hear singers singing live and have them sound just like they do on the record without it being the result of lip synching.  He's not a studio creation and never was.  He's the real deal with the talent to back it up.

The only minor disappointment for me is that he did not sing the song "Loved" which is probably my "other favorite" Richard Marx song. I wasn't expecting him to sing it, but had hoped it might turn up. It's such a lovely song and perfect in that setting.  Eh. No matter. The show was still great.  Except... There was this obnoxious guy sitting behind us who would NOT stop singing along!  Even when Richard set up a song by saying, "...and if you know this song...don't sing along. You'll ruin it."  Uh, yeah, this guy fit that bill.  Although he did not ruin it for me, Kelli was closer to him so I'm not sure how wells he could tune him out.  All the dirty looks in the world that we kept shooting him did not work.  He just kept singing at the top of his lungs.  And I must confess when Richard started, I think it was "Right Here Waiting", the guy said - in a voice filled with girlish delight - "That's my FAVORITE!"  I nearly fell out laughing but it seemed like an inappropriate thing to do at that point and I didn't really want the entire audience starting at me as I gasped for air in the midst of hysterical laughter.

All in all, a great evening with Mr. Marx. I hope I get to repeat it again some day.

Admitting that you're still not over it

I have something I want to say, but I'm not sure I can put it into words and have it make sense to anyone else. That's why I've never said it before and am not sure I should now. And why I'm rambling like this is a super huge big deal, but to me I guess it is.

Once upon a time, about 11 years ago I spent most of the year living and working in Dubai. Anyone who knows me or has known me for a long time knows this, but now and then I mention it to someone at work and they are surprised. I don't talk about it much and find myself changing the conversation topic though because it makes me sad. Sad because leaving there makes me feel like I failed at something, something big, and I'll never have another chance at it again. So I don't talk about it or think about it and therefore don't have to deal with my issues of failure - whether it is true failure or all in my own little noggin'.

I'm thinking about it today, however, because in a nifty turn of events, next weekend I get to travel a couple of hours north of my current hometown and have a visit with my boss from that short time overseas. I haven't seen her since that day almost exactly 11 years ago that I walked out of the gates of the school where I worked and headed back to the US, so I'm pretty excited that we'll get to visit and catch up on each other's lives.

After we talked on the phone last night to solidify some plans, I found myself crying and I couldn't figure out why. That's when I realized that I really do not talk about having lived in Dubai or the reason that I left - fear. I was there on September 11, 2001 when the World Trade Center in NYC was attacked and so many were killed. I also had a horrible bout of food poisoning that day, so it was pretty miserable watching news coverage and being so far from home and violently ill. And that event gave me an escape route out of a situation that was only starting to level out.

I was told when I went over that it would take about 6 months to a year to really acclimate and get used to living in a new place and be ok with it and boy was that true. I had moved over in February and by mid-August, when the new school year started, I was finally starting to feel better about things. I realized that yes, I had made some friends there and had people to hang out with. Things were looking up and then this happened and I let the fear take over and I ran. I ran away. I failed. And I'm still pretty unhappy about that 11 years later.

I don't want to lay blame on anyone else, but I think if my family had been more supportive while I was gone, then I would have been better able to stand on solid footing and stay. It's not that they were unsupportive per se, but I remember calling home one time because I was so homesick and my father not wanting to talk too long because it would run up long distance - very long distance - charges. Then I would hear other people talk about having hour long phone conversations with family back in the US and once again I would be sad. Maybe if it had been in the age of Facebook and international texting and all that then things would have been easier because I could have communicated with family and friends back home faster and easier and more often. I would not have felt so isolated. But I did feel isolated and alone and am so thankful for my friend Cynthia who took me under her wing during the time I was there. I would not have made it through without her.

I was only home for about a month when I realized what a mistake it was to have moved back. I should have stayed. I shouldn't have made a fast decision to leave, but we were on a time table with the "out" we were given in our contracts should be choose to use it. I think if I'd had a month or so to calm down then I think I would have chosen to stay and work out my 3 year contract. If I allow myself, I think about what "might have been" if I'd stayed, but I know dwelling on that is an exercise in futility. So I really do not think or talk about that time in Dubai so that I don't dwell on it and get myself all riled up and start wallowing in the big, fat failure of the whole thing. (Yeah yeah yeah, it was a life lesson and blah blah blah whatever shut up I can bitch about this if I want to.)

Not long after I came back to the States, I was interviewing for a new job and trying to explain why I had left Dubai after only 8 months and even though it was barely 1 month since the September 11th attacks, the people I was talking to did not get it. Truly. They did not understand why I had left. Sure, I did not say I was afraid and felt unsupported by family and friends in the States (who, regardless of whether they will own up to it or not, all were behaving as if I should drop everything and pack up and move home although now I get comments like, "You didn't stay long enough for me to come visit!" as if that's the only thought they had ever had about me being over there) and so I tucked tail and ran home, but I would have thought people would "get it" about why I left, but some of them didn't seem to.

Once I was back in a job a few months later, I found myself also going to therapy for all the anxiety that the major life changes had caused me. I was sad about having come home and couldn't shake it, plus I was in a job that was not right for me and where the boss seemed to dislike me so I'm not sure why he even hired me to begin with. I had no friends and no life outside of work and was mostly hiding out in my apartment. No wonder I needed therapy! And group therapy is amazing. Everyone should try it if only because you realized that your problems are so microscopic in comparison with some of what other people are going through. Ultimately therapy helped and when I moved again in a year I was in a much better place and agreed with a new therapist that I didn't need to keep going regularly unless something happened and I felt that I really needed it.

But still... it's been 11 years and I really don't like to talk about living over there because inevitably the question comes up of why I left and while I can explain it to people (and generally even admit that I left because I was afraid), I really don't think they understand. I really, really don't. And I don't know how to make them understand even a tiny little fraction of how I felt or why this was and still is a big deal to me. Even as I type this I'm starting to tear up and wanting to make a break for the restroom (note to self: never blog about emotional things on your lunch hour while in the office) and have a good cry and just get all that pent up emotion out of me. Hopefully I won't do that to Sue when I see her on Sunday and start the waterworks, but I'm afraid I might. Because that time in Dubai might have been long ago and far away now, but it still lives in me and I never get to talk about it or see anyone that was there with me then. I've never had the closure that I need to get over it all and move on and by suppressing it all I know that isn't healthy either, but...I dunno. I don't know what else I want to say right now, but I needed to get that out and if you'll excuse me, I think I might have to make a break for the restroom anyway and have that cry. I've got to get this out of me and get to a healthier place. One where I don't think of this as a huge failure anymore. One where I learn whatever life lessons this was supposed to teach me. One where maybe I can forgive myself for what I consider one of the greatest mistakes of my life - not believing I was strong enough.

I'm about to have a birthday so I'm getting introspective. Bear with me.

The older I get, the more I understand, well, a lot of stuff I guess.  But recently I have been thinking a lot about what is "appropriate" behavior for people at various ages.  We talk about how children should act a certain way and if a 10-year-old is throwing a temper tantrum, down on the floor actually thrashing around in a full-scale screaming fit, then the majority of folks agree that the child in question is too old to be doing something like that.  We get older and make mistakes and someone says, "You are old enough to have known better". Or maybe we say that to ourselves in certain instances. It keeps going on and on and at various ages and in various stages of our lives there are societal norms that we are expected to adhere to.  Or rather, they are there and people think we should adhere to them. 

As I get older I am struck by how I refuse to have those "norms" apply to me at times.  Actually, that's not an accurate statement because I'm not a rebellious person and I'm not bucking convention or anything like that, but I'm not sure how to phrase what makes total sense in my head.  *sigh*  Story of my life.  Anysnootch,  I'm nearly 41-years-old and standard/normal/traditional/whatever society says I should be married with a couple of kids and a house in the burbs and a nice little job with a nice little life. Or maybe that is my assumption of what I believe society thinks.  Or maybe I'm right.  Meh. Whatever.  Back to anysnootching...Whatever it is I'm supposed to be is not what I am. Or maybe what I am is exactly what I am supposed to be (I think I'm finally on the right track here...), but for some reason it doesn't seem to be what I should be. How I should be/act/think/whatever.



Attempting to get back to my original thought processes... When I was younger I used to think that adults should act a certain way, behave in a certain manner. They didn't go out to bars and clubs and stayed home with their kids and had family game nights and basically grew up and calmed down and changed who they were.  But you can't change who you are, not down at your core.  Who we are is who. we. are. no matter what age we are. So as I grow older I'm just becoming more of who I have always been. I'm still not really sure just who that is or who I will ultimately be when I die - which could be tomorrow or could be 40 years down the road - but I appreciate having the knowledge and self-awareness that while the thoughts we think and the opinions we have may change over time, who we are won't necessarily change on some basic levels.  Hopefully that means we'll all become better, not worse, versions of ourselves as we age and grow, but again, it's nice to know that if I live to be 90, I'll still be me.  Probably still listening to 80s hair bands and thinking David Bryan is super hot (although if I live to be 90 he'll be 101), refusing to wear makeup unless I have no choice and, knowing me, still bleaching my hair blond.  Or maybe just wearing that hot pink wig I've always wanted...

Home sweet (former) home

Not long after I moved (which hasn't been that long ago at all really), a couple of friends asked me if I missed my house.  My easy, and oh-so-true, answer was no, I don't miss it. While I loved my house, it was a lot of work.  All I can think of now when I think of the house is having to mow the lawn all the time and having to keep it clean. My every Saturday morning revolved around getting up and trying to get in some kind of workout, followed by cleaning the house. Mostly so it was in good condition on the off chance that a potential buyer would come along to look at it.  That became my life every week, for a couple of years at least.  So the joy of owning a home and having space that I could decorate in whatever way I chose was soon lost to the reality that I had to paint over colors that I liked and remove items that I wanted and used just so some anonymous buyer could envision themselves in the space.  Personally, all the process of selling my home did was make me dislike home buyers intensely.  I think if you can't look beyond whatever you are seeing and envision what you want a place to look like then it's your problem, not mine.  I really resented having to do all that work, constantly, to make the place look good for someone else. I stopped being able to enjoy my own home and that makes me sad.  Because I really did love that house. Not everything about it and not every minute, but it was (and still is) a great house. I hope the new owners are enjoying it.

I drove by last weekend when I was in town just to look and see how the sunflowers were doing. I planted the seeds about 2 weeks before the offer finally came in on the house.  The lone survive smack in front of the house is HUGE and so much taller than I ever imagined.  Honestly, it could be 10 feet tall.  That's insane.  The other patch that sprung up seems to be doing well and all in all, everything is the same except for the chidlren's toys in the back driveway and that huge eyesore of an inflatable pool in the backyard.  But hey, less grass to mow and I'm all for that.

I was going through the pictures in my Photobucket account today and came across some oldies of my house that I thought I'd post.  I changed the house alot over the 7 or 8 years I lived there and the new owners will change it more as they live there I know.

When I bought the house, the kitchen and den area looked like this.

Looking at these pictures, I kinda miss the original paneling in that room.  If I could have afforded it, I would have changed out the carpet instead. Never could afford new carpet.

 

 

  And then eventually it didn't look like any of that, but I don't seem to have any pictures of it.  Ah well.

Of all the wacko colors in this house when I bought it, the one I understand least was this gold leaf-type paint job on the master bedroom walls.  And those curtains! I gave them to a friend to use the fabric and to this day we call them "The Bordello Curtains" since she thought they belonged in a New Orleans cathouse!

A much better upgrade, if I do say so myself.  And I do.

As God is my witness, I had no idea how green that paint was going to turn out to be. Honest.  This didn't last long, but long enough to burn the eyes of many visitors to my humble abode.

The living room never changed much.

Eventually I did have to paint over my lovely purple door.  I was not pleased.  Black is so boring.

A much better choice of greens!

Enough pic spam for today.  Hope everyone and anyone reading this is having a great July 4th holiday!

Movin' right along

Anyone who knows me knows that I moved a couple of weeks ago.  I'm pretty settled in already and while I wish I had more space in my apartment (it's challenging to move from a house to a smaller apartment), I'm going to look at this as a chance to purge more of the "stuff" I've collected over the years rather than keep thinking of it as needing more space since I have things to fill up the space. 

A couple of friends have asked me this past week if I miss my house and the answer is no. I loved that house. I really and truly did. If I hadn't had to move for work reasons I'd have kept that house indefinitely I am sure. It was a great place with lots of space, but I did have 3 rooms I never used.  Except to fill up with "stuff"!  I feel like I should miss my house, so the fact that I don't is a bit odd to me.  I guess I was more ready to let go than I thought I would be.  So I say good for me!

And now, moving madness in pictures!

Bathroom cleaned and empty and Pooh was ready to move on!

I have too much stuff.  Anyone want some stuff??

Why do we always forget that after you pack, you have to UNpack???

Looks a leeeeetle bit better now that things are unpacked.

Some day I'll use matching pillow cases.  Maybe.  And I might even put the comforter on the bed.  Possibly.

Mysterious ways

I was driving home from work today thinking about, well, a lot of things. I drive a lot and therefore have time to think a lot.  About this and that.  And sometimes the other.  In the midst of all this thinking, my mind jumped over to thinking about The Mystery Man.  And as I said in this blog post of many, many months ago, I said a little prayer for him. That he is well and happy and I thanked God for having met him that day. Whoever he is.  Be well Mystery Man. I'll never forget you.

Ruminations of God and Band-Aids

Every day for well over a year now, when I am walking to and from the lower parking lot at my office, I’ve seen a Band-Aid stuck to the sidewalk. I’m not sure who lost it or why they didn’t realize it and stop to pick it up, but it’s been there so long that I can’t truly remember how long I’ve been seeing it.


At first, I thought I’d get a paper towel or some latex gloves (I work in a medical facility, so that’s not a hard thing to do) and pick it up and dispose of it, but I never did. Then I thought eventually the rain would wash it away, but no such luck. And then I thought, surely someone else will see this every day and decide to pick it up and dispose of it. But I guess they all felt like I did and at some point, you really don’t want to touch something like that. Who knows how many feet – both human and the stray cat I see around that area – have walked over it. Birds, squirrels even.

Now, that Band-Aid is looking pretty rough. It’s a little mangled. A lot dirty. It’s been used, abused and thrown away. And we all walk over it – or in my case, around it – every day and for the most part, probably don’t give it a passing thought. But I look at it every day. Every day, twice a day. I’m not sure why, but I’ve been thinking about it and how it sticks. It sticks and no matter what is thrown at it, it’s there day after day.

I’ve also thought a lot about what I could say about this Band-Aid since it seems to fascinate me so much and walking into the office today I realized that Band-Aid is a lot like God and His love for us. It sticks. It may be used, battered, beaten, and abused by us, but it sticks. We may walk over it or around it. The rain may come and try to wash it away, but nothing can get rid of it. Even if someone picks it up and throws it away, the stickiness is still there – whether it’s God’s love for us or that gnarly old Band-Aid. The sticky stays.

So to anyone reading this out there in cyberspace – whether you are a believer or not – I hope that the sticky stays for you. God loves you and believes in you even if you don’t reciprocate and I sure am glad about that.