Not Ready For a Daily Newspaper Column

Folks, I've hit a bit of dry patch with this blog.

My five regular readers may have noticed that my daily posts have recently become every-other-day-if-you're-lucky posts, and for that I apologize. What can I say other than that my life is a little uneventful right now. Not to worry: I'm not curled up in bed sucking my thumb until noon every day, but my current routine is, well, routine. And that, my friends, does not an exciting post make.

How in the world do daily newspaper columnists do it? How do they come up with a new topic to write about every day? Has my mind atrophied to the point where I'm at the same mental level as a garden slug? I hope not. I'll need all of my faculties intact in order to determine my dream career.

Speaking of my dream career, one of the things I've been doing these past few days is preparing for my second meeting with my new career coach. I've found her homework assignments to be quite intense, time consuming, and extremely interesting because they're about my various histories (family, social, educational, work, and leisure). What's not to like about that? I truly believe that the process of reviewing the past to before plunging ahead into the future is the most logical path to discovering my new career adventure. I've been told that the process could take anywhere from six to nine months, perhaps longer, but I'm convinced that in the end it will be worth it.

I'll keep you posted.

A Small Smattering of What's On My Mind

• Last night a friend and I saw the new Steve Carell movie, "Dan in Real Life". If you're looking for something light and sweet, this is the movie for you. It was a really nice break from the multitude of post- 9/11 movies that are out right now. I don't know how you feel, but I have no interest in paying to see a movie about something I see for free on the nightly news.

• For the "never done that before and hope I never have to again" list: Coaxing a freaked-out cat out of a 30 foot tree. My next door neighbor, "W", saw the whole thing unfold and told me that Martin, with two big dogs in hot pursuit, ran to the base and didn't stop until he literally ran out of tree. It was a pitiful sight, especially because I could hear Martin crying. Finally after a lot of hand-wringing (because I'd never dealt with a situation quite like this), cursing (because Martin's people are incredibly irresponsible, deadbeat "caretakers" who not only let him run loose without a collar and ID tags but are also rarely home), and brainstorming about possible solutions (my best being walking down the road to the firehouse and sweet-talking the firefighters into helping), Martin s-l-o-w-l-y and carefully shimmied down on his own. Face-first, of course, just for extra drama. He's fine. I, however, needed a beer to settle my nerves

• As regular readers of my blog know, for the last week I've been struggling with an assignment given to me by my new career coach. The challenge is to come up with a list of seven to 10 satisfying activities which I enjoyed doing for the sake of doing rather than just the outcome. It's a tall order, believe me. There are lots of things I've done in which I've enjoyed the outcome but not what had to be done to get there (e.g. learning to water ski, becoming a licensed realtor, doing laundry, washing my dog, making vegetable soup), but thinking of things I've done in which I've also enjoyed the process is so much harder. This is what I have so far: a) as a child playing with my dollhouse and outlining whole communities using crayons; b) as a child making homes for my Fisher-Price people in the sandbox; c) creating mix tapes and CDs; d) baking almost anything; and e) horseback riding. I'm racking my brain for more ideas...

• Happy, happy birthday to my sweet mom. The first thing she said to me after I was born was, "I hope we'll be friends." We definitely are, Mom. I love you.

Can't Think of a Catchy Title (Or Even a Stupid One)

The response to my self-created gig of holding open listings for busy local real estate agents has been impressive. This is the third Sunday in a row that I've been booked for a Sunday open. I hope the streak continues because it is a super-easy way to bring in a little money and stay connected to the real estate scene in a manner that suits me. I had an agent ask if I were available to take a couple of her buyers out for an afternoon and I couldn't say "no, thanks" fast enough. I was flattered that the agent thought to ask me, but at this moment I can't think of anything less appealing than showing property. It is too much work and too little payoff, assuming that the client eventually closes on something. Yep, holding open various listings for favorite local agents is about as involved in the real estate world as I want to be. I'm ready for a change.

Speaking of change, I'm having a terrible time with one of the homework assignments given to me by my new career coach. "P" wants me to list seven experiences or activities in which I find or found enjoyment. If only the result of the activity was enjoyable, it doesn't count. Sound easy? Then for goodness sake, help me!!! I've been thinking about this for a whole week and can only come up with one thing: Playing with my dollhouses as a little girl. I could play for hours, rearranging furniture, using Crayons to outline driveways and roads that stretched from my room into my sister's room, making up scenarios for my dollhouse people and animals, and never get bored. I was always good at solo play (maybe because I was an only child for so many years?) and still enjoy doing my own thing, though I do get lonely sometimes. Anyway, this homework exercise has me stumped and little stressed. The criteria for the activities/ projects are: a) I enjoyed doing it; b) I feel I did it pretty well; c) I feel proud of it (or felt proud at the time); d) it gave me an internal sense of satisfaction; and e) it pleased me at the time. My dollhouse play definitely meets all of the criteria, but I truly can't think of anything else. Remember, the activity itself is what is most important, not the result.

Suggestions from people who know me are welcome (hint, hint).

Deep Thoughts (NOT!!!)

I apologize for having so many "random thought" posts, but it seems to be the way I'm thinking these days. I so need to get a part-time job and bring structure-- and hopefully coherent thoughts-- back into my life. If I haven't chased you off yet, read on:

• The news coverage of the California wildfires is pretty sobering. As was the case during Katrina, many of the victims have lost absolutely everything. Unlike Katrina, I suspect that a good number of these victims have the financial means to begin life anew though it will take an enormous emotional toll. It is a good reminder that in battles between humankind and nature, nature will always reign supreme but hopefully humankind will find the strength to persevere. I don't know about you, but I'm going to update the emergency kit I keep in the trunk of my car.

• Is it wrong that at my age I enjoy the CW show, "Gossip Girl"? The central characters are teenagers. Does it mean that I'm emotionally stunted? Do I really care?

• As soon as the weather turns cool, I become inspired to cook every comfort food recipe I encounter. This is odd because I rarely like to cook anything. Monday afternoon I made absolutely delicious vegetable soup, and this morning I picked up the ingredients to make spicy chili and another batch of slow cooker applesauce. I've even decided upon my next baking adventure, "Sweet Potato Spice Loaf", which sounds a bit like zucchini bread but without the zucchini. Ack! Just thinking about zucchini makes me gag a little. Sweet potatoes are much more to my liking.

• Nobody can wink better than my grandmother. Every time she does it, it helps me to remember what a loving, supportive caretaker she was during my formative years. At age 95 she's a mere shadow of her former self, yet when she winks at me I again see a glimmer of the woman that helped me to become the woman that I am today.

That's all I have for now. Maybe tomorrow I'll be inspired to post in paragraph form. I suppose stranger things have happened. Stay tuned...

A First

This is the scene that greeted me when I walked into my room a few minutes ago. Could Luka be more adorable? This is the first time I've ever seen him so far toward the head of my bed-- usually he sleeps curled in a ball at the foot and only when it is cold outside. Isn't isn't especially chilly today, though it is a bit on the gloomy side. Guess Luka's going to have a lazy day, and I don't need to worry about making my bed anytime soon. Looks like everybody wins.

Happy Birthday, Sis!!!

I can't believe it has been 30 years since my baby sister, E2, came into my life.

It seems like just yesterday I was living large as an only child, soaking up my parents' attention and their every waking thought (tee hee hee!). My wishes were their wishes, my dreams their dreams (are you gagging yet?), until SHE arrived.

Life would never be the same.

As I remember it, for the first month of E2's life our mom made me hold her on a pillow as if she were as fragile as Cinderella's glass slipper. Mom has since told me it only happened once and the reason behind it was that she though E2 would roll right off of my little twig legs. Whatever.

E2 was the cutest baby and for the most part I was proud to be her big sister. I say "for the most part" because it didn't take long for my friends to discover her cuteness, too, and want to come over to our house just to spend time with "the new baby." I'll be honest: That sort of rejection stung my little nine year old pride but in retrospect-- and especially looking at old photos of the little culprit-- I understand it. E2 was roly poly in all the best ways, had a sweet disposition, and most of all was so wanted. I can't imagine a baby being more anticipated than her. And 30 years later, she hasn't disappointed yet. Not even close. My love for her overshadows the time she scratched me with her claw and drew blood (I've no idea what led up to such a violent confrontation) and even the battles we had sharing a bathroom as teens. Being her big sister has been, and will always be, one of the greatest joys of my life.

Happy Birthday, Cutie! I love you with all of my heart.

Weekend Wrap-Up

• It's almost the end of October and most days my very casual wardrobe still consists of a pair of shorts, a t-shirt, and flip flops. Speaking of flip flops, my sister told me that recently she's been hearing people refer to them as thongs. Whether that's the new trend or not, I just can't bring myself to utter the word "thong". It sounds so nasty. I'd rather date myself and continue to call the cheap, rubber footwear "flip flops" than gross myself out by calling them "thongs". Even seeing the word in print makes me want to take a shower in bleach. Fun fact: My 65 year old father refers to stereos systems as "Victrolas", a word that I believe dates back to the early 20th century. Not even my grandpa-- his father-- can figure out where he came up with that one.

• My entrepreneurial idea to hold Sunday Open Houses for select real estate agents has proven to be a good one. For whatever reason, many sellers seem to believe that the buyer of their home is going to walk through the door during a Sunday open. Most experienced agents know, however, that the statistics don't back up this belief. This is where I come to the rescue. I have the ability to make everyone happy: The seller is pleased because their house is once again open for any and all to peruse regardless of whether they're even in the market to buy and the agent is happy because they don't have to waste their valuable Sunday on a pointless endeavor. There are just so many listings out there it is hard to make yours stand out from the crowd. It is not a good time to be a seller, but it is a great time to be me. Cha-ching!

• Flashing back to my 20th high school reunion a few weeks ago, one of the weekend's souvenirs was a CD of 80's tunes mixed by the husband of a classmate. I'd skimmed through the list of tracks when it was given to us and thought it was pretty lame (nobody is as good as making mix CD/ tapes as I am, of course), but listening to it tonight as I drove Luka around made me change my mind. I've never been a huge fan of Thomas Dolby's "She Blinded Me with Science" or "Whip It" by Devo, but I must admit that I rolled down the windows, opened the moon roof, and cranked up the old Victrola when Big Country's "In a Big Country" and Duran Duran's "Rio" came on.

• My baby sister's turning 3o tomorrow. It seems like just yesterday I was preparing for the role of "big sis" by carrying a 10 pound bag of potatoes against my shoulder (pretending it was a baby). Happy pre-birthday, E! And remember, ILYN!

Luka's Job

My dog, Luka, believes it is his personal mission to get me out of bed each morning at what he deems to be a reasonable time.

It doesn't matter if it is a weekday or a weekend morning, Luka wants me up and ready for my day (after feeding him, of course) no later than 6:30AM. Most days that isn't a problem. Even though I'm currently not working, I try to stick to my old work timetable of getting up and going to bed around the same times so that I don't waste the days away. Today, however, I woke up with a headache and wanted to go back to bed after feeding him to try to sleep it off. Well, that didn't suit Luka at all. I heard him come into my room and stop next to my bed but I didn't open my eyes. I'm all over the technique of staring at someone until they wake up because my cousins and I did it to our grandma when we spent the night at her house. The moment you open your eyes the gig's up, so I kept my eyes shut tightly. Eventually he got bored and left the room. I must have dozed off for a few minutes because the next thing I heard was a racket in the basement and after shaking off the cobwebs of sleep knew exactly what it was. Last night I put an empty Diet Coke box in Luka's toy basket downstairs (he loves to shred cardboard boxes), he'd found it, and was trying to signal me that he was in the mood to play. Unfortunately, I was in the mood to stay in bed and did for a few more minutes. I knew the sleeping late party was over when Luka started barking inside at some barking dogs outside.

Now that I'm up and have started my day, guess what Luka's doing?

Sleeping, of course.

I'm going to stand next to him and stare.

This and That

• In order to be able to move forward with success and confidence, I think you have to be able to look at your past and see what has worked before and what hasn't. Based on my work with her, my first career coach wasn't a subscriber to this belief. I guess her plan was to help me find a position similar to the one I had in real estate despite my often stated desire to carve out a career in which I can make a difference in someone's world. I expected a career coach to be more broad-minded and to think outside the box. "L" wasn't and didn't, and now she's history. I know my new coach, "P", won't disappoint me.

• Despite my trash-talking of last week's bizarre episode of "Moonlight", I can't stop watching it. Though the vampire part can be terribly hokey-- I could do without the weird eyes, the fangs, and the hissing right before he sinks his teeth into someone-- the relationship between hunky vampire Mick St. John and internet reporter Beth Turner is quite compelling. Does anyone else think that the actress who plays Beth is a dead ringer (both in appearance and voice) for Kate Winslet? It is freaky.

• One of my favorite bloggers, an Air Force officer serving a tour in Afghanistan, is taking a hiatus from his blog while at home for two weeks on leave. Is it wrong that I want him to return to duty so that he can resume his blog? I know it is, but John's writing style and photographs (http://blog.myspace.com/foreignhost ) are so captivating that as soon as I finish one post I can't wait to read the next. I'm addicted and suffering terribly from withdrawls.

• I love it when my dog snores. It makes me smile. He's doing it right now while all stretched out on the thick rug behind me.

• Luka always drinks from the back of the water bowl. I don't know why.

• I really shouldn't have peanut butter or chocolate in my house. Time and time again I've proven that I have little ability to regulate my intake of either. I need to rid my house of them and will... as soon as I smother my bite-sized Milky Way with a spoonful of creamy peanut butter.

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

I met with a new career coach today. And I like her. A lot. Much more than "L".

"L" is history.

I know I gave the impression that "L" and I had a good meeting on Monday (after I called her out on the carpet for yawning during our meetings, of course), but I decided that it still wouldn't hurt to interview another person for the job just to cover my bases.

It was a good call.

Within five minutes of meeting "P", I knew I was going to terminate my relationship with "L".

In addition to being smart, personable, and having a sense of humor (the last two qualities were sorely lacking in "L"), she actually has a defined process to help clients meet their goals. This process isn't in her head, but is actually spelled out in an informal packet she gave to me for review and reflection. "L" didn't do that. In the words of my friend Gena, "L" made me feel like a "ferret on meth" in that she had me going in so many different directions at once without explaining the reason for doing so. I never felt like she had a plan for me, and for that reason I never had confidence in her ability to help me. Though we've only met once, "P" not only asked a lot of questions about my work, personal, and social histories, but she also demonstrated that she does have a plan. It's going to involve a lot of work on my part-- you wouldn't believe how much homework I have to do before our next meeting-- but I'm more than up for the challenge.

Especially since I'm privy to "the plan".

I Made It All By Myself!

For whatever reason, the only time of year that I'm consistently so inclined to cook is autumn. It must have something to do with it getting cooler outside (surely it will feel like autumn sometime before the official start of winter) that brings out my nesting instincts and inspires me to want to cook comfort food for my family and friends. For almost a week now I've had the ingredients for a hearty and satisfying soup my mother swears by-- I'm thinking that tomorrow evening or Friday might be the day it actually gets made. But this afternoon I made applesauce.
And it, too, is hearty, satisfying, and best of all, super easy. I made it in the slow-cooker. Can't get any simpler that that, can it?

Here's what I did:

1) I cored and cut into chunks (with the peel on) approximately 3 lbs of apples. I used mostly the tried-and-true cooking apple, Granny Smith, with maybe five Galas thrown in for good measure and contrasting flavor.

2) After throwing the apples into my slow cooker, I mixed in a 1/2 cup of granulated sugar and one or two cinnamon sticks. You can use more, less, or no cinnamon sticks depending on your fondness or dislike for the spice. I happen to love it!!!

3) After turning the slow cooker onto the "high" setting, I went about my day and returned about 3 hours later when the apples were quite tender to the touch.

4) It took maybe an hour for the apples to cool down, after which I removed the cinnamon sticks and then used my totally cool immersion blender that my mom gave me last Christmas (if you don't have an immersion blender a food processor or potato masher will also work) to break down the peels and mash the apples a bit. The recipe I followed said at this point you can further sweeten the applesauce with another 1/2 cup of granulated sugar but I thought it was sweet enough without it.

Voila! Delicious, easy, and very autumn-celebrating homemade applesauce. The best part for me is knowing exactly what is in it (lots of delicious apples, some sugar, and cinammon) and what isn't (too much sugar and various ingredients with names I can't even pronounce).

Guess there's nothing left to do now except to enjoy the fruits of my labor!!

Mmmmmmmmm...

The King of Crabby

My paternal grandfather is a character. No one, but no one, can play the emotional extremes better. When he's happy, he's silly and borderline giddy. But when he's crabby, really there are no words.

Tonight he was crabby.

Weeks ago he'd invited me to dinner at a really nice restaurant. He often takes my mom, aunt, and a few close friends to nice restaurants, but rarely me. Usually when we go out together we go somewhere that serves pizza or great hamburgers (which I love), so I was really looking forward to tonight. That was my first mistake. I played it up too much in my head when I should've been noncommital.

When I arrived at his house to pick him up, the first words out of his mouth were, "I want you to know that I'm in a really bad mood but it has nothing to do with you."

Oh goody.

Apparently everything that could possibly go wrong for him today did go wrong, with a few extra surprises thrown in for good measure. I didn't ask for details because I've learned from past experience to avoid fanning the flames of an already over stoked fire. Believe me, his fire was already at the level of an inferno.

Dinner wasn't much of an improvement. The service was lousy, the food was mediocre, but I still enjoyed having time alone with my grandpa. In fact, one of the biggest blessings in my life has been getting to know him as well as I have. When my grandma was alive, her star shined so brightly that it practically blocked his out. He was around, but only in the outskirts of whatever we were doing. Since my grandma passed away eight years ago, I've made it a point to visit Grandpa every Sunday afternoon and my life has become so much richer for it. The good, the bad, and the ugly, for the most part I've cherished every moment I've been able to spend with him.

Including tonight.

Feeling Better

This afternoon's meeting with my career coach, "L", went better than I expected.

I went into the meeting with a full agenda, explaining exactly what I needed from her and asking what she could provide. She actually had some interesting suggestions about where I can look for ideas/what I need to do as far as research as well as how to reach out to people I know for help in this process. Still, I'm not 100% certain that "L" is the best person to help me through this transition process, and for this reason I have an appointment later this week with another career coach. It's always nice to have options, don't you think?

But back to today's meeting. Perhaps equally exciting as realizing "L" might have a clue after all is that I had the opportunity to address her yawning problem since it happened just five minutes into our meeting. Five freaking minutes into the meeting! She tried to wave it off but I wouldn't let it go. I was ready. I looked her straight in the eyes and asked, "What's up with that?" She said something like "I don't know what's wrong with me. It must be the time of the day." Whatever. I replied, "This is the third meeting in which you've yawned, and quite frankly it makes me think that I bore you. I also find it extremely offensive. If it really is just the time of day, perhaps a different time would suit you better." I don't think "L" is accustomed to people talking to her that way because she truly looked liked a deer in the headlights. She apologized several times for offending me, saying it wasn't her intention to do so, but as far as I was concerned there was nothing to discuss. It happened, and I put her on notice how I felt about it.

Our next meeting is scheduled for 10AM instead of the usual 2PM.

Coincidence? I think not.

It's Rough Out There

Well, I'm glad I brought a good book to the open house I hosted this afternoon because not one person showed up. Nada. Zip. A big goose egg. Even the token nosy neighbor-- who can usually be counted on to arrive just as the agent is trying to close up shop-- was disinterested. Yes sirree, the real estate market is in a rut like I haven't seen in quite a while. I sure picked a good time to switch career gears. If only I could figure out what that career should be.

I thought that hiring a career coach would help me to better navigate this process but at this juncture I still feel rudderless. I have two major concerns:

a) I'm not sure that "L" and I are a good fit personality-wise;
b) I'm not sure if "L" is truly as competent as I initially believed her to be.

For one thing, she is extremely laid back in her interaction with me at a time when I really need/want her to be enthusiastic. This is an extreme time for me: It is extremely exciting because I'm seeking a much-needed change and at the same time extremely scary because I'm currently (voluntarily) unemployed and need/want to go full speed ahead toward determining my true career passion. I need my career coach to be a cheerleader and a guide and right now I don't feel that "L" is fulfilling either role. She's also yawned during two of our six meetings. Yes, yawned. Really, there are no words to describe the rudeness factor when someone you're paying to help you yawns on your dime. If she does it again, we're going to part ways. Actually, we may part ways regardless.

I also question whether "L" is good at her job. I suspect she's not Internet-savvy, which I think is extremely odd in this day and age. When I told her I started a blog, I got the feeling that she misunderstood and thought I said "book". I couldn't tell by her expression whether she even knows what a blog is. What it comes down to is that so far I don't feel a connection with "L" and think that I should. Hopefully tomorrow's meeting will be more productive than last week's. If not, I've got some serious evaluating to do because the other local career coach I was referred to has a three-five month wait to schedule an appointment. And yes, I am on that list.

It's rough right now, but I just know that eventually I'll find a career of which I can be proud.

Gone with a Click of the Mouse

Curses! In an effort to clean up my blogger file, I accidentally deleted last night's post, "Deep Thoughts". As the title might suggest, it wasn't my most impressive offering, but it did represent a milestone in that it was my seventh consecutive entry. Considering I took a week and a half hiatus (or something close to it), I think seven consecutive posts is something about which to be proud. And I was, until my itchy trigger finger erased all evidence of lucky #7's existence. Please, just know in your hearts that I really did post seven entries in a row and for about 24 fleeting hours they could be accessed by all. Let this be a lesson to all: You've got to be pretty darn quick to keep up with me.

Not much to report on today. The most interesting event that occurred, I suppose, is that I held open my first property since offering my services to select, over-extended agents. Yeah for me and my enterprising spirit! This particular experience wasn't very exciting, though, because only three people came through in the three hours I had it open. Boring and lonely as it was to sit alone in an empty loft, I choose to focus on the positives: a) it isn't my listing; b) whether it sells soon or languishes on the market for months is of no personal concern to me; and c) I get paid whether one person shows up to see it or a hundred. Tomorrow afternoon I'm holding another property open for a different agent. It'd be great if I had a good turnout, but I'm not hopeful because it has been on the market since June (so it isn't "fresh" anymore) and there are so many other comparable homes for sale in the area.

I think I'll bring a good book.

Dog Tired

Can't think of any better way to describe the expression-- and the way I feel right now-- than this photo. In case you're wondering, it isn't staged. This is Luka's "deep sleep" pose which is typically accompanied by a LOT of snoring. I don't know how he sleeps through it because sometimes I can't. Guess when it happens he's dog tired. Like me. Right now.

Tomorrow's post will be much more engaging, though at the moment I haven't a clue about the topic.

Maybe it'll come to me in a dream.

I Rock and I Know It!!!

Since last I posted, I've completed the 12 hours of continuing ed required to keep my real estate license for another few years. And the best part is that I did a good part of it wearing my favorite jammies.

Man, I just love online "learning" !!!!

The courses were mind-numbingly boring-- reading about the anti-trust acts provokes a violent, physical reaction in me-- and I couldn't tell you one thing I learned, but I passed the required tests at the end of each unit and that's all that matters.

Is it obvious that I'm giddy and can barely see straight? Because I am giddy and can barely see straight. To celebrate I'm going to grab a spoonful-- maybe two-- of my beloved peanut butter, sit myself down on the sofa, and wait for a re-run of "Two and a Half Men" to start.

Yep, life is pretty good.

And I totally rock!!!!!!

So Not Impressed

Just because someone appears to walk the walk, talk the talk, and wear a tool belt does not, I repeat does not, a rehabber make. My friend's son has been proudly sporting a Home Depot tool belt since he learned to walk and he can barely hit a nail with a hammer. But then again, Max is only three.

I don't know what to say about the crew "working" on the house behind me.

I have no way of knowing what's going on inside, but in my estimation the group installing the deck off the back are the real-life versions of Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumber. I wish I had a time lapse camera to record all of the activity that goes on each day-- measuring, sawing, hammering, more measuring, moving boards from one part of the yard to another and back again-- and yet little, if any, visible progress has been made in quite some time. In fact, there's even been a little digression. The proof is in the photos: I took the first one on September 4th primarily because I thought the redneck sitting on the toilet was so hilarious; the second one is from this afternoon. The toilet is gone, thank goodness, but there have been few other improvements. I think the deck has been expanded outward into the yard and the concrete wall inexplicably located underneath part of the deck is inexplicably being painted tan (to match the color of the deck?) but in my estimation not much else has changed in over a month.

When Luka and I walked by the house this afternoon I noticed a "Coming Soon" sign in the window. Wonder if the crew working on the deck have seen it. I'm guessing they've been too busy herding cats to even notice. * Sigh*

Time to Get Serious

Well, folks, my two-month mental health break is officially over.

This afternoon I met with my career/life coach, "L", for the first time since ending my real estate career and she actually assigned some homework. Yep, I'm back in the saddle. Oh joy.

I'm in the "discovery" phase of my search during which I'm to brainstorm about types of industries as well as specific companies that might be of interest to me. I'm also to keep a log of any and all people I know who might be able to help with this process. To this end, "L" suggested that I consider whether any of my high school classmates could be of use. Truth be told, I'd prefer not to think of most of them at all. Isn't it enough that I survived my 20th reunion relatively unscathed and only a little bitter? Now I might have to ask some of them for help and with my luck it will be the ones who I'd really, really rather not.

Unfortunately, it is also an excellent suggestion. So I'll do it. Grudgingly.

Thank goodness I also have my real estate friends to fall back on, and if any one group of people is well-connected it is the REALTOR organization. Guess my 12 years in the business weren't for naught after all.

Let the fun begin.

It's Over

Whew!! Am I ever relieved to report my 20th high school reunion is over. It was one of those events that I'm happy I attended but am absolutely ecstatic that is behind me. What it boils down to is this: People don't change. Those that were kind, funny and down-to-earth in high school are kind, funny, and down-to-earth now but kicked up a notch as a result of having experienced the ups and downs that accompany becoming an adult. Conversely, those that were snobbish and close-minded as teenagers have had 20 years to perfect their technique and can now be considered experts.

If I sound disappointed and disillusioned, I guess I am. I was actually looking forward to seeing people I hadn't seen since graduation. Our class was small enough that I knew everyone in it by name and almost 60 percent attended this reunion. That's a pretty good number when you consider that many people have moved out of the area and had to carve out time to come back for this event. I was convinced that 20 years was long enough to let bygones be bygones and that the passage of time would have dissolved the cliques that existed. I was wrong. The first night had a better vibe to it than the second. As people arrived and worked their way through the maze of those who were already present, they tended to stop and chat with whoever crossed their path regardless of their past history. Though it was unbelievably hot and sticky outside (in October, no less!), the mood of the attendees was downright festive. For the most part people seemed genuinely excited to see one another again, sharing photos of their families and talking about where they live and what they're doing. My, what a difference 24 hours makes! The second night-- which was also incredibly hot and sticky-- the cliques were back. There was less chatting up of people who weren't part of your group in high school and more sticking with your own crowd.

Don't get me wrong: It wasn't all bad. I had a wonderful time reconnecting with people who were important to me back in the day but that I hadn't seen in decades, yet the re-appearance of the cliques made it feel more like high school and less like an opportunity to demonstrate how much we'd grown up in the past 20 years. And that's disappointing.

Allow me to introduce myself...

... yet again.

Despite the fact that two weeks ago I issued an apology for not keeping up with my blog and indicated that I was back on the wagon, I haven't blogged since. I know what you're thinking because I'm thinking it, too: Loser!!! I think what happened was that I realized just how far I'd strayed from the original intent of this blog-- to record my thought process while trying to determine my next career-- and wasn't sure how to right the ship. Apparently the two month sabbatical I took to decompress from my real estate career worked too well and my mind to mush. I'm pleased to report that as of Monday I'll have resumed working with my career coach. Yep, my break is over. I'd be lying, though, if I said I haven't had a ton of fun being a "lady of leisure". If possible I recommend that everyone do it at least once in their lives.

Here are some of the highlights of the past two weeks:

• My dog, Luka, has completely recovered from his bout of bronchitis. It is interesting to note that since the dog version of Robitussin didn't even come close to helping his constant cough, the vet prescribed generic Vicodin. Yes, that's the painkiller Vicodin that I've taken-- and LOVED-- after having a root canal. It knocks me out cold, but "only" acted as an effective cough suppressant for Luka for which I'm incredibly grateful.
• I've applied for a part-time job at one of the "big box" bookstores near my house. I'd rather work in a local, independent bookstore but the two in my city aren't hiring;
• I've become addicted to browsing iTunes, especially the glam rock/ hair bands that were so popular when I was in high school. Eventually I'll work up to buying songs and creating my own playlist or CD.
• In an effort to bring in a little more money and keep my toe in the real estate world, I came up with the brilliant idea to take advantage of the plethora of homes on the market and hire myself out to agents who need help covering open houses. After creating a simple announcement using Publisher, I emailed it to everyone in my company as well as 30 other agents I've worked with in the past. After getting lots of calls/ emails asking follow-up questions, I've already booked one open house for next Saturday and will most likely have another booked for Sunday. Hopefully more bookings will follow.
• Even though it is still 90 and humid as heck outside, I've decided the summer weather is no reason why I can't celebrate the current season of autumn inside my home. I've set out and used my favorite pumpkin scented candles, have the pretty walnut bowl on my dining room table filled with miniature gourds and pumpkins, and hung a fall wreath on the front door despite the fact that I still have four gigantic pots of impatiens (not mums) on my front porch. I just love autumn.
• I had my first ever Real Simple/ Martha Stewart moment: Instead of surrounding my pumpkin scented candles with the usual bits of colored glass, I surrounded them with acorns collected from my front yard. Acorns. How simple is that??
• I'm in the middle of my 20th high school reunion weekend. There was a party last night at the home of a former classmate and tonight we're having cocktails and dinner at a local landmark. Generally speaking the women have aged better than the men, yet so far I've enjoyed talking to the men more. Last night I believe I was the only woman from my class who isn't married (or divorced) and doesn't have children. I know there are a few others, but they weren't able to attend. Interesting. Wonder what tonight will be like, other than hot and sticky. Ugh!

I promise I won't fall off the blog wagon again. It's too embarrassing.

Forgive me

I extend my heartfelt apologies to the approximately five non-family members/ friends who read my blog. I've been AWOL these past four days in large part because my dog, Luka, came down with a horrible case of bronchitis and his non-stop coughing has prevented either of us from getting much sleep. For me, little sleep results in not getting much of anything done during the daylight hours including keeping up with my blog. I don't have any experience taking care of sick children, but I can say with absolute certainty that caring for a sick dog is no fun.

It all started Thursday afternoon when I became convinced Luka was choking on a small piece of granola-like Kashi cereal that I gave him. I'll spare you the gory details (picture Linda Blair in the Exorcist), but I was freaked out enough to take him to the animal emergency room at 10 that night. Despite having to pull the car over once due to all the throwing up, as soon as we walked into the clinic Luka's tail started wagging and he clambered up on the reception desk to greet the vet tech who checked us in. The timing of his "recovery" couldn't have been worse: Because there appeared to be nothing wrong with my dog and the clinic practices triage medicine (as it should since it is an emergency room) we were shown the back of the two-plus hour line. Aaarrggghhhh! Thank goodness my mom was there to keep us entertained. Anyway, the emergency room vet ascertained that a) Luka's vitals were normal; b) due to his behavior his condition wasn't life-threatening and c) since he never once coughed or threw up while at the emergency room there really was no telling what the problem might be. After pumping Luka full of fluids and giving him a shot of something to "settle his stomach", we returned home where my dog promptly resumed throwing up for the rest of the night. Good times! The next afternoon, Luka's regular vet determined that he was suffering from tracheal bronchitis and prescribed an antibiotic and the doggie version of Robitussin. He's been on both for three days now and I think/ hope he's getting a little better. He's still coughing, but had enough energy this morning to go for a little walk and to shred an emtpy Diet Coke carton. Hopefully we'll both be able to get some good sleep tonight and my desire to blog will return. Keep your fingers crossed...

Blame it on Colorado

I've got a problem.

I've come down with a major case of Autumn Fever. Not Spring Fever (from which I rarely suffer), but Autumn Fever. You may be familiar with some of the symptoms: a) a longing for the leaves to turn colors sooner rather than later; b)an almost-overwhelming urge to yank up my still-vibrant impatiens and replace them with orange and brick red mums; and c) a hankering to bake a pumpin pie and burn pumpkin-scented candles.

Right now I'm drinking a Harvest Moon Pumpkin Ale, but it isn't scratching my itch. In fact, it doesn't taste remotely like pumpkins or even pumpkin spice. I think I'll write a strongly worded letter to Blue Moon Brewing Company stating as much. To all of you who are tempted to buy this brew because of its attractive packaging, I predict you'll be as disappointed as I am. But I digress...

I know I'd be fine with the Midwest summer we're still in the throes of if I hadn't just returned from spending a week in the Colorado Rockies. The mornings in the mountains were cool and crisp, and here and there groves of quaking aspen were just beginning to turn golden. On Monday morning we awoke to a thin layer of white stuff covering majestic Long's Peak and its neighbors, which according to the Rocky Mountain News was the first measurable snowfall of the season. There was enough snow in the morning to warrant the closing of Trail Ridge Road (located above the treeline) in Rocky Mountain National Park, though it was open again to traffic by 1PM.

36 hours later I was back home. From sweatshirts and jeans to t-shirts and shorts. Ugh.

If we're lucky, it'll only be another month or so before it is sweater weather again. I, for one, can't wait. Maybe tonight I'll turn the a/c down to 65, eat a pumpkin muffin or two, and pretend I'm back in the Rockies. But this time with my dog.

Prizes

There's a popular saying in the Midwest, "If you don't like the weather, just wait an hour." While it is true that it can storm in the morning but be sunny and inviting in the afternoon, the changeable weather in my hometown has nothing on the weather in the Rocky Mountains. In my current locale, I watched yesterday's weather go from sunny and mild to a downpour complete with hail in the space of five minutes. Seriously. Thankfully I was watching the activity from the comfort of our rented home's living room window-- sort of like television-- but other family members experienced it up close and personal while hiking. I chose not to go yesterday because my thighs were still on fire from the "moderate" hike we were on the day before, the one where we ascended 1000' in 1.8 miles, mostly at the very end when I truly thought I was going to throw up. Good times. But the prize at the end-- a pretty little lake-- and the sense of accomplishment of doing something few other Midwesterners can boast of doing was well worth it. But I'm going to try the hiking thing again today, despite the drizzle and fog that awaits outside. I've been told that this trail is much easier plus there will be a beer waiting for me at the completition of the hike. Bring it on!

Epiphany!

Anyone who knows me at all knows that I wear my emotions on my sleeve. Although they are my emotions and by rights I should be able to control to whom they are revealed, I just can't. I've had quite a few years to practice mastering control and yet I still feel as if I'm a passenger rather than the driver. Of something that belongs to me! It is both a blessing and a curse.

I realize that not everyone is able to show their feelings. There are some who are so regimented or damaged that they are either unable or unwilling to reveal a crack in their armor to anyone. In some demented way I envy those people. Shedding tears is sort of an all-purpose reaction in my world. I can cry when I'm sad, frightened, angry, or joyful. There are certain people (family, close friends) and situations (movies, funerals, poetry readings, etc.) in which it's okay to shed a few public tears, but not enough to cover the people and situations in which mine have overflowed. But that's okay. I think I've found a way to put a positive spin on what has been, upon occasion, a rather vexing and embarrassing personality trait. As the saying goes, "If you can't beat them, join them."

One of the reasons I quit the cut-and-dry world of residential real estate is just that-- it was too cut and dry. A property would go under contract and then it would close. Sure, there might be a rather unfortunate episode or two between the building inspection negotiations and funding, but for the most part a real estate transaction is an extremely regimented process. After 12 years of it, I yearn for something into which I can really sink my teeth and reveal my authentic, emotional self. Since it is extremely unlikely that I will ever be able to control the intensity of my feelings, I've come to realize that it may just be possible to channel them to help those who need it most, to harness the passion within me to benefit a cause that inspires those emotions to overflow. I want to give a voice to the voiceless.

Any suggestions???

Guardian

The pewter token I've chosen to write about is "guardian", a word that conjures up many emotions for me. In fact, I've been struggling with this post for two days. I briefly considered discussing the incident when my own guardian angel saved me from what I know with every fiber of my being was a life-endangering, if not life-ending, situation. I've shared the details of this experience with only a handful of those closest to me, and don't feel inclined to share it with anyone else for the time being. Besides, in my opinion the word "guardian" applies to a much broader and more public group of people: our nation's military men and women.

Sometimes when I feel so strongly about something I find that I have difficulty expressing myself. Such is the case when I think of those serving in the military. These people are the heart and soul of our country, the guardians of the ideals upon which our nation was founded. Yet six years after 9/11 they don't get nearly as much daily attention and appreciation from the American public and media as they deserve. More often than not, the only mention they receive on the news is in the general terms of daily casualty reports. In that context it is easy to forget that each fatality was an individual who knowingly and willingly gave the ultimate sacrifice to further our nation's ideals.

Part of the problem is that only a small percentage of Americans have personal knowledge of someone serving in our all-volunteer military. I counted myself among that crowd until I began dating an active duty soldier in late 2002. After at least three false starts, Matt and his unit finally deployed to Iraq in early April 2003. He was there for seven long months during which time I had only sporadic contact with him. A letter every couple of weeks (for some inexplicable reason, he didn't have email access), a brief and sometimes chaotic middle of the night phone call every now and then. I felt like I was always waiting-- for a letter, a phone call, for the other shoe to drop. Fortunately the aforementionned shoe remained firmly in place until after Matt came home but that's a story for another day. Suffice it to say that I have incredible empathy for service members (as well as their families) who suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) and Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI). Like those who suffer debilitating physical injuries, the lives of the soldiers, sailors, airmen, and marines (as well as their families) who are victims of psychological damage will forever be altered. Still all reports that I've read--including the most recent released today by the Department of Defense--indicate that military retention rates are incredibly high, and most months the various branches meet their recruiting goals. In other words, despite the obvious dangers and risks involved in serving during war time, people are still volunteering to serve. They are fighting and dying, in part, to guard the rights of all Americans as outlined in the Bill of Rights including the right to publically protest the war. If you are curious about what are troops are really doing in Afghanistan and Iraq, there are two sites I recommend you peruse: http://gocomics.typepad.com/the_sandbox/ and http://milblogging.com/. Both sites contain posts and links to blogs written by soldiers, airmen, sailors, and marines who are in the thick of it and for the most part don't mince words.

Regardless of how we feel about the choices made by our government, we owe it to our military men and women to take care of them during and after deployment. You don't have to have a personal connection to a service member to do this, as all sorts of organizations have sprung up in the last six years devoted to supporting the troops via care packages, letter writing campaigns, cash donations, etc. My current favorite is http://asoldierswishlist.org/ in which civilians can "adopt" a deployed service member by sending care packages and/or letters. So far I've been paired with three different soldiers and have sent items ranging from boot socks and auto fuses to homemade cookies and nail polish. The letters I've received in return provide a fascinating peak into the daily lives of those who help to guard my freedom. I strongly encourage each of us to do something to show our support to these brave men and women. It is the very least we can do for those who have volunteered to guard our rights.

Gratitude

If you read yesterday's post, you'll know that from time to time I'm going to write about a word engraved on one of the pewter tokens given to me by my mom. Last night I wrote about some of the "delights" in my life. Tonight I'm going to focus on those things for which I am grateful. As was the case last night, I'm certain that as soon as I hit "publish post" I'm going to remember 50 other things I should have listed but because I'm human and not a robot it appears to be unavoidable. As my grandmother says over and over again every day, "So be it."


* My family (parents, sister, grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins): I truly believe I have the best support system anyone could as for. My uncles and grandfathers stepped up and provided what my father couldn't, my aunts have been wonderful teachers, and I count my cousins among my closest friends.

* My maternal grandparents' farm: I did a lot of growing up there and experienced things I never would've in the city.

* Childhood summers in Michigan: So many memories (most of them good, Mom).

* My pets: Life is much more bearable and entertaining with animals in it.

* My former employer: She taught me what it means to be a good boss and will be the yardstick by which I measure all future employers.

* My friends: I couldn't have made it as far as I have without their understanding, support, and twisted senses of humor.

* My own twisted sense of humor: Inappropriate though it may be at times, for the most part it has served me well. Trust me, I wouldn't have survived as long as I did at my last job without it!

* My education: Major kudos to my parents for providing me with a top-notch education. I hope to actually use it in my next career!

* Empathy: Sometimes it's a good thing, other times it drags me down into the dumps because I can't turn it off. All in all, I'd rather have it than not.

* Diet Coke: Have I admitted that I have a one-a-day habit? I don't consider my morning complete without one.

* Having loved once and lost: It made me realize that it is possible to survive something that is incredibly complicated and painful and come out stronger for the experience.

* That I haven't injured anyone or been injured in a car accident: Driving can be really scary!

* Our military men and women and their families: Soldiers, airmen, marines and their loved ones deserve our gratitude for the sacrifices each are willing to make in the interest of our country.

* Chocolate: Milk chocolate is my favorite but I can also choke down dark chocolate when I absolutely have no choice. See, I can be flexible.

* Bottoming out emotionally and academically at the first university I attended: If I hadn't, I never would've ended up at the local university where I had wanted to go in the first place. That school turned out to be a much better fit and I was extremely happy there.

* Working at the concession stand at the zoo when I was in high school: I made a ton of friends there that I never would've otherwise met. To this day I still smile when I think about our adventures.

* My friends' children: Just like their parents, the children are incredibly entertaining.

* My ability to spell: I truly believe that you either can do it or you can't. I can (most of the time) and it has almost made up for my complete inability to do anything mathematical.

* My high school English teachers: They helped instill in me my love of the written word.

* Peanut butter: Even the worst situation is bearable with a spoonful or two of regular peanut butter (preferably mixed with a few semi-sweet chocolate chips).


I've reviewed this list a couple of times and am fairly satisfied that it accurately represents what I am most grateful for in my life. As I stated before, I know that as soon as I hit "publish post" I'll remember something else that I should have included, but I'll just have to take the chance. As you can probably see, so far I've been blessed with a very rich life. I have every intention of keeping it that way.

A Different Approach

Tempting though it is due, tonight I'm not going to write about Luka, though I have included a photo of him in this entry. The other photo is of Sammi and Crash, two of other three dogs who've been in my life. They were such loves. But I digress...

Several years ago, my mom gave me and my sister each a pretty little bag (see first photo) containing ten pewter tokens engraved with various words and phrases that she felt were worthy of reflection (second photo-- may be hard to read the actual words): Loyal; believe; gratitude; guardian; delight; hope; follow your heart; discover; explore; and wisdom. Though I have taken out the tokens occassionally and thought about what the words on them mean to me, I've never actually put those thoughts on paper. Now seems like a perfect time to do so.

The word I'm going to address this evening is "delight" which is defined as "something that gives great pleasure". Please note that the following list is by no means all-inclusive or in any particular order:

* Luka (big surprise, I know);
* Dove milk chocolate;
* Diet Coke (I have a one-a-day habit);
* rocks (whenever friends of family travel anywhere and ask what they should bring back for me, I always say-- and mean-- rocks. I love to think about the events leading up to their creation. Plus, it makes me giggle to think about how confused an archeologist will be 100s of years from now when she finds rocks in "the nation's midsection" that previously had only been found in the Persian Gulf region and Australia);
* spending time anywhere in the Great Lakes region (I have LOTS of rocks from Lake Huron);
* s'mores for breakfast (but only if the marshmellows are roasted in a fireplace or firepit);
* reading aloud the speeches of Martin Luther King, Jr. (he was doubly blessed as a phenomenal wordsmith and a riveting orator. I highly, highly recommend a trip to the National Civil Rights Museum in Memphis. For more information go to www.civilrightsmuseum.org);
* Shasta Daisies and Black-Eyed Susans together in the same flower bed;
* Burt's Bees beeswax lip balm (I try never to leave the house-- ever-- without it);
* all four of my grandparents (I've been lucky enough to know each of them very well);
* my friends' children (and my friends, of course!!);
* my mom and sister (duh!!)
* recycling (makes me feel like I'm doing something to reduce the size of the footprint I'll inevitably leave behind when I die);
* writing;
* touching and smelling the herbs at my local botanical garden;
* baking pumpkin pies (there are more spices in this pie than most and combining them is so much fun);
* flannel pjs on a cold winter's night;
* Luka sleeping on my bed (but only when it's cold);
* picking apples (and then making apple crisp).

No doubt as soon as I hit "publish" I'll think of 1o0 other things to add to this list, but you get the idea. Apparently my life is quite delight-ful.

Doggie Pool Part-ay!!

From the lowest of lows to the highest of highs, Luka the dog has had a very eventful 24 hours. I'm pleased-- actually relieved-- to report that the stomach problems that kept both of us up for most of last night appear to be a thing of the past, though I may need some therapy to help erase the memory of it. In the words of my cousin, Mandy, upon returning from a rather unfortunate experience at Girl Scout Camp: "I'll tell you one thing, I don't want to do that again." It. Was. That. Bad.

To celebrate his return to good health, this afternoon my mom and I took Luka to my neighborhood pool to participate in what has become a most beloved end-of-summer ritual: The doggie pool party! I'm embarrassed to admit that this was Luka's first time in the water. Yes, I'm aware he's a Labrador Retriever and that he's probably the first in his entire line to have been forced to wait nine whole years before setting foot in the water. But he's experienced it now, so you can hang up with the doggie abuse hotline. Please hang up. Thank you.

Luka had a blast, as these photos attest. For those of you who've never attended one of these things, the best way to describe it is controlled chaos. There are dogs and people everywhere-- sniffing, running, swimming, and fetching-- but everyone is really happy so it's fine. I swear Luka didn't stop smiling the entire time, except for when he fell off a narrow ledge between two pools and found himself having to doggie paddle for the first time ever. When I jumped in and helped guide him to where he could stand he was smiling again as if to say "No harm done". The last photo is my favorite because it is so Luka, who is always ready for his next meal. I call it "Mr. Nosy looking for an after-swim snack". And you know what? He deserved one (and got four).

UPDATE: All's Right Again With Luka's World

As evident from the above photos, four hours of R&R (and a light breakfast of dry food and a little brown rice) have done wonders for Luka both physically and psychologically. He's ready to play! His mom, however, isn't feeling quite so peppy. I'm going back to bed...

Up with a sick dog

It's almost 2:30AM and my dog, Luka, and I are still up.

Looks like it's going to be a long night for both of us because Luka has an upset stomach. As all good moms know (of both children and pets), if baby ain't happy then nobody's happy. And Luka definitely isn't happy. So far he's thrown up four times-- the most recent a few minutes ago on the backseat of my car. Stupid, stupid, stupid me! If anyone-- be it human or animal-- has an upset stomach the last thing one should do to try to settle them down is to voluntarily put them in a car and subject them to speeds of 30MPH. Of course they're going to throw up!!! He must have eaten something BAD on one of our walks today. He often grabs a quick "snack" from someone's yard before I have the chance to stop him, but whatever he ate today must have been especially vile. In spite of the fact that he's sleeping just a few feet from me, I can clearly hear his stomach make horrible gurgly noises. How anyone can sleep through that racket I'll never understand, but Luka's eyes ARE closed and he's breathing the slow, even breaths of sleep. Another thing I don't understand is why these stomach issues only manifest themselves in the
middle of the night. I can't recall the last time he had a problem during the daylight hours. Maybe it takes a while for the "snack" to fester, sort of like a fine wine. If that's the case, this bad boy is going to be an award winner.

It's going to be a long night. I need a Diet Coke.

There really are no words...

This is the view from my kitchen windown approximately 45 minutes ago. Yes, it IS a photo of a redneck sitting on a commode on the deck of the house behind me that has been in the process of being "rehabbed" for close to a year. And no, I DON'T think he's attending to any urgent business other than talking on his cell phone.

Tonight I'm going put a roll of TP and perhaps a magazine next to the toilet for the next hoosier who takes a load off (so to speak)because that's just the kind of neighbor I am!

Small But Mighty

Happy Labor Day, America. Hope you've enjoyed your bonus day. I've spent mine laboring around the house-- straightening up, organizing, vacuuming, dusting, etc. No air shows or food fesitvals for me. Just good old American hard work from someone who hasn't put in a whole lot of it in the last month, at least not in the physical sense. Being voluntarily unemployed and having the pressure of trying to come up with a career that will make me feel that I'm making our world a better place (again, totally my choice to go this route) isn't for sissies, though I know that the really hard work will come when I start working with my life/career coach again next month. Right now I'm still having fun being "a lady of leisure".

To that end, since the weather has been unseasonably cool recently I've been spending a lot of time sitting out on my patio watching life happen around me. Despite the fact that for the last year or so the house directly behind me is being rehabbed and as a former real estate agent such things used to interest me, what I find more fascinating these days is the activity around my hummingbird feeder. If you've ever seen a hummingbird they appear to be quite delicate and sweet. They are tiny little things who, I believe, are the only birds capable of "simply" hovering for any amount of time. When they do this, their wings flap so fast you can barely see them-- they appear only as a blur. It's really cool to see these beautiful creatures stop in midair, hover, and start again in the opposite direction in two quick blinks of an eye. What is equally fascinating to me is their behavior around my feeder. These dudes are warriors. If another approaches while the feeder is occupied, the occupier will fly at the invader with amazing tenacity. Most of the time the invader knows he's been beat and backs off, but upon occasion a brief ballet of aerial warfare ensues. They buzz one another, they beep, and as quickly as it starts it ends, the victor (usually the bird who was at the feeder first) returning to defend its turf against the next attack but not always to feed. I'm looking out my window right now at one just sitting on top of the feeder-- it hasn't tried to feed in more than a minute-- simply keeping an eye out for the competition. These birds appear to me to be territorial for the thrill of the fight, rather than for sake of survival. Kind of like people, don't you think? Hmmm...

Yippee!

I can at least scratch one worry off of last night's list of random thoughts-- my favorite military blogger has re-surfaced! I can't tell you how relieved I was to see his latest post, in spite of the news it contained. For those who are curious, you too can follow John's adventures as a communications director for an Air Force unit based in Afghanistan at http://blog.myspace.com/foreignhost. Not only is he an excellent writer with a good sense of humor, but he also is a very talented photographer. I promise that even the most educated individuals will learn something from John's blog. Enjoy!!!!

Random Thoughts

Ok, confession time: I think I like taking a drive in the evening as much as, if not more, than my dog.

He likes the sniffs and the feeling of the wind blowing his ears back and I like listening to my favorite CDs and letting whatever thoughts I have just wash over me. It isn't like I can't do both of these things in the privacy of my own home, but they just seem more pleasant when I'm driving. And that's the key, I think. I have to be driving (can't be a passenger) and only my dog can accompany me (can't have a passenger). Weird, huh?

Here are a few thoughts that crossed my mind as I was driving tonight (in no particular order):

• I love the uncharacteristic cool spell my city is experiencing. I was actually able to have my a/c off and windows up for most of today which is EXTREMELY unusual for this time of year. I'm hoping it will last, but know it won't, so I'm just trying to focus on loving it while it lasts.
• I'm worried about my sister. She's going through a rough spell right now and I wish there was something I could do to really, truly help take away her pain and anxiety.
• I wonder if I could ever leave my hometown and make a life somewhere else where I don't have family. I know lots of people have done it, but I don't know if I could leave this place where I have so much history. I don't really even know if I want to.
• I'm concerned about one of my favorite military bloggers who hasn't posted for five days. His unit is currently serving in a part of Afghanistan where there has been some insurgent activity in the last few days. Unless he posts again, I don't know how to find out if he's okay or if he's been injured. It is amazing how attached I can become to someone I've never met in person. Guess that goes to prove that in my world, the written word is pretty powerful stuff.
• I have a headache. This may or may not be a direct result of the beer I had with dinner (I'm such a lightweight).
• One of my favorite sounds in the world is the deep sigh my dog makes right before he drifts off to sleep for the night. Right now, however, I'm not so enamoured with all the licking he's doing. Even though he's only licking his paw, if it goes on long enough it starts to gross me out. Like now. Please, baby, no more licking!

Tah dah! Those are my thoughts at the moment. More later...

The Weirdo(s) Across the Street

I don't know why, but the house across the street from me has always been occupied by weirdos.

I live in a neighborhood of smallish but well-kept homes. Though I don't always know names, I do know most of my neighbors by sight. For the most part, they're a friendly bunch, but not super-nosy which I very much appreciate. I know if I have a problem, I could knock on almost anyone's door and they'd help if they could. That, to me, is the definition of being a good neighborhoo. The consistent exception, however, is the house directly across the street.

In the seven years I've lived here, four different sets of people have occupied it which is unusual. I can't think of any other house in the 'hood with such a high turnover. When I moved in, Carrie and Michael lived there. They were okay, although Michael used to make me crazy when he'd park on my side of the street close enough to the edge of my driveway to almost block me in. After they got married and moved out, the man I refer to "No eyebrow guy" took over ownership. To my nearsighted eyes he looked cute enough and appeared to be single, so one day when he was washing his car in the driveway I summoned all of my courage and walked over to introduce myself. As soon as I got his attention and we began talking I realized that I couldn't focus on anything other than the fact that where his eyebrows should've been was a blank canvas. He appeared to be in his 30s, had an athletic build, and a full head of dark hair which would seem to preclude illness, but had absolutely nothing above his eyes except forehead. I don't know if they never existed or had been been burned off or overplucked, but it freaked me out. Though he wasn't super-friendly toward me (he probably noticed my stare), he took really good care of that house. In addition to updating the bathroom and kitchen appliances all by himself, in one afternoon he re-landscaped the front yard, adding concrete block and all sorts of interesting shrubs and grasses. After two years or so, he moved out and a 20-something single girl moved in. She was nice enough, but the odd thing about her is that she didn't even occupy the house a year before the house went back on the market and was purchased by the current weirdo.

I don't have a clue about this dude's story. The only time he's ever outside is when he cuts the grass in his baggy gray sweatpants and oversized white t-shirt. As far as I can tell, he does no other yardwork whatsoever-- not even to pick up branches that have fallen after a storm. His curtains and blinds are always closed, and his front door is usually shut tight despite the fact that he has a glass storm door. But the oddest thing about him is his reaction to me. For reasons I can't explain, he seems to be intimidated by me. If we happen to be walking up our driveways at the same time (our driveways are directly across from one another), he'll turn back toward his house before we reach the end. If I'm in my yard when he drives up in his car-- and I know he sees me-- he'll turn into his drive with nary a wave or nod. And the other day as my dog and I were walking up the street toward my house at the completion of our walk, the dude started to open his front door to get the mail but stopped and went back inside when he saw me approach. No, I'm not a stalker and I swear I'm not being paranoid. I've had absolutely no interaction with this guy and yet he seems to be avoiding me like the plague. Of all the odd people who have lived in the house prior, this guy takes the cake as the oddest of them all.

Wonder how long this weirdo will last before the he moves on and the next oddball moves in? The clock is ticking...

It's A Dog's Life

Brace yourselves: I just got back from taking my dog for a drive.

No, I didn't have anywhere in particular I needed to go, but after being homebound all day (except for a walk early this morning) my dog was suffering terribly from cabin fever. Keep in mind that this is a dog who is used to seeing the world outside of my house almost every single day. When I was working, each morning I'd load him into the car and take him to "doggie daycare" (otherwise known as my mom's) and collect him on my way home. That's two car rides a day, 10 per week, 40 per month, etc. This is a dog whose used to being shuttled back and forth, and truthfully, since I quit my job I think he's become a little depressed. To add to his dilemma, we haven't been able to walk as much as I'd like because: a) it is often way too hot and humid even in the early morning and late evening hours; b) my dog is black and tends to bake in the blazing summer sun fairly quickly; and c) he sprained one of his front paws this weekend jumping off a three foot wall during a walk (my bad, not his. I should've been paying better attention). So as a prize for being the sweetest, most understanding, and most handsome dog in the world I took him for a little drive around town. And I swear he smiled his sweet doggie smile the whole time.

Has it really been 20 years????

My 20th high school reunion is coming up in a few months, and as one of the pre-gathering tasks the reunion committee asked each of us to update our theme songs. My theme song back then was "When the Blues Come Marching In" , a surprisingly accurate choice considering a) I was a huge fan of the St. Louis Blues hockey team at the time and b) it was chosen by the yearbook committee and not by me. The opportunity to come up with my own song was one I relished and agonized over for more than a month: Once again, the paralysis I experience when overwhelmed with choices (even seemingly minor ones) reared its ugly head. In high school my friends and I were all about Depeche Mode, Def Leppard, and the Dead Milkmen and believed that the sound produced was far more important that the words. These day my music of choice is exclusively country, a genre that I never even considered back then. The CD player in my car is loaded with Kenny Chesney, Brooks & Dunn, and Toby Keith, all of whom, in my opinion, consistently put engaging short stories to music. I think that's why I like these artists more than Beyonce, Maroon 5, and Christina Aguillera-- because their songs describe situations and emotions we've all experienced and are performed by people who look real. But I digress. After careful consideration (and a few hours pouring over iTunes) my updated them song is... drumroll, please... Toby Keith's "How Do You Like Me Now?" Though I know few of my former classmates will be familiar with the rest of the song, I believe that the title is perfect for a reunion with people I haven't seen in 20 years. It'll at least be an icebreaker. I can't wait to see what other songs people chose and for what reasons. The reunion should be a blast.

This is my brain without a job...

Sometimes I feel like my brain is turning to mush.

As much as I'm enjoying taking some time to regain my mental health, there are moments when I feel like I might be going in the opposite direction. Daytime is the toughest. All my friends work (not a trust fund baby in the bunch), so there are days when the only human contact I have is with the salespeople at the stores I frequent. It's totally bizarre. Apparently I need to do a better job of scheduling activities which will not only keep me entertained, but make me feel that I'm using my time off productively. Goodness knows when I'll get this kind of time off again.

It is interesting to note that I don't miss my old job at all. I miss the interaction with some of my co-workers, but not the job itself. I have no regrets about leaving it behind since I was completely burned out, but I do have serious concerns about where I go from here. I've told so many people that I left real estate to find my "passion", but what if I can't? What if I have to take a job just to take a job? I guess it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, but it would be a downer. The mere thought of having to accept a job like the one I just left should inspire me to get my arse in gear and start peeling back the onion in earnest.

One possibility

Even though I'm not sure I want children of my own, I'm thinking that I might like to work with them. Prior to my real estate career, I was a graduate student working toward my Master's in Deaf Education. Though I failed to graduate for a variety of reasons-- including my own immaturity-- I've never regretted the time I spent trying. I LOVED the deaf children at the school. I don't know if it had anything to do with their being deaf, or if it was just their personalities, or maybe a combination of both. Regardless, it has been about 12 years since I bottomed out of the program and I still wonder how my former students are doing. That's got to be a sign, doesn't it? I'm not interested in trying to get through the deaf education program again, but perhaps working in a support/administrative role at the school or another like it in my area. I certainly feel passionate about the oral deaf population, and that's major. I want my next career to be in a field that matters to me. I don't seem to be able to offset a mind-numbing job with a rich personal life because I'm by nature a homebody, so when I'm at work I need and want to feel like what I'm doing is making a difference. Working with children certainly fits that bill. Hmmm...

Having trouble getting started...

I was in real estate for almost 12 years. It wasn't intentional. I had just burned out of grad school, needed a job, and answered an ad in the classifieds for an office manager of a local real estate company. After 1 1/2 years there, I moved on to become the transaction manager for a consistent top producer in my area. Though I'm licensed (a requirement of the job), I knew early on that I never wanted to sell real estate. As the head of my household (a select group that includes me and my dog), financial stability is crucial. I've seen too many agents stress about when the next commission check is coming in, and it never looked like much fun. Yes sirree, in order to maintain my mental health I definitely need a steady income. So, commission- based sales are definitely out of the running as my next career. At least I can scratch one off the list.

Ah, the list. What list, you may ask. Actually, there is no list. Yet. One of the things I'm supposed to be doing during my two-month sabbatical (that is now almost halfway over-- yikers!) is to make a list of all of the career fields that are of interest to me. I've discovered that this is much easier in theory than in reality. As I mentioned in my first post, my typical reaction to being overwhelmed is paralysis. Having produced absolutely nothing that even resembles a list in the first month of my mental health break is a perfect example of it. What is wrong with me? I know what's wrong. I'm just freaked out by all of the possibilities and need to get over myself. I have to keep reminding myself that it was my choice to quit my steady-paying but monotonous real estate job because I want to find a career that is meaningful and will allow me the opportunity to make my mark in the world. Selfish though it may sound, after I die I want people to know that I existed and at least tried to make the world a little better. Children may not be in the cards for me, so I need to carve out my niche some other way. Finding a meaningful career seems like a good place to start. My main purpose in keeping this blog is to (hopefully) jump-start and fine tune my thinking process as I careen along the unfamiliar road on which I now find myself. Vroom, vroom...

Yikers, what have I done?!!!

I can't believe it has almost been a month since I've last brought in a paycheck. The plan my life coach and I came up with is that I'm taking all of August and September off to regain my mental health before taking on a fun, part-time job beginning in October while simultaneously trying to determine my next career. On a daily basis, not having work to define my days has been a bit tedious, but on a larger scale the time is flying by. Having just returned from a blissful week on the northern Oregon coast with my family has helped pass the time, as well. Lots of sun, sand, and seafood. Not to rub salt in the wounds of those of you workaholics, but in a few weeks I'm headed off again, this time to the Rocky Mountains of Colorado. I know, I know, I live a tough life ** sigh**.

Honestly, I do have a lot to think about and thank goodness I have a life coach to help me sort it all out. There is no way I'd be able to do what I'm doing without someone objective to help me sort through it and keep me focused. When overwhelmed, I tend to completely shut down and end up doing nothing because of the paralysis. There is no possibility that "L" will let that happen. Adding her to "Team AJ" was the smartest thing I've done of late other than quitting a job with absolutely no room for future growth. Since I have to work for a living (or at least to keep food in my dog's bowl), I want my next career to be one in which I can be proud. Though I certainly appreciate money, making oodles of it isn't the main focus of my seach. I want to do something which helps to better the world in which we live or at least the lives of people who need help. Vague? Yes. But I'm confident that with "L's" help I can narrow it down in the next several months. I want to be the architect of my future.