Semester One and Done.

Believe it or not, I am 25% through the coursework I need for my Ph.D.  Yes, just coursework, dear people, as following the end of that, I'm on my own, researching like a madwoman and attempting to make some new argument that will pass muster with my professors. 

So, probably 3.5 years until done.  Maybe a little less, hopefully no more.

I've learned a lot this first semester -- including the fact that my time is no longer my own.  My past jobs were all busy, lots to do, lots of work outside of 'working' hours but this ... THIS ... is another animal entirely. 

I have no free time.  Even while I sleep I am working.  Sounds silly, yes?  Well many many weeks of insomnia coupled with school-related dreams have convinced me that my brain does not shut off as I leave campus or even as I close my eyes.  I have been a perpetual ball of stress these past few months.  I'm not sure if my stomach will ever un-knot itself.  Just thinking of it makes me feel a little nauseated. 

For what?  I've wanted this degree for so long - thought of it, dreamed of it, wished to make it happen.  Now I'm living it and there are days I'm not so sure.  I know everyone goes through this at some point (hell, I've been through it in my working life plenty of times) and I know I just have to buckle down and get things done. 

So here I am.  Today I'm back on campus, just four short days after leaving it for the semester.  I returned today to learn about Blackboard, a web-based system that I'll use for my class this semester.  Yes, I'm teaching, in addition to taking three classes.  I don't know whether this is good or bad, but what I do know is that I'll be busy, no doubt about it.  I'll be on campus four days per week.  Monday - Thursday.  I'll stay up here one night a week (as otherwise the train + sleep + class schedules just don't mesh) and that makes me kinda sad -- but it's okay.  It's one semester.  I can do it.

I often feel like I'm reciting the train song in my head ... I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.

As for Hoosier Guy, well ... he's learned that my brain doesn't shut off, that I'm occasionally in a blind focus about certain topics and that he has displayed great kindness and patience towards me and my school schedule.  I'm glad we are together.  He has made this whole transition easier and I know that we will grow stronger because of this.

My family & my friends?  I'm not sure they know what to think other than it appears I'm busy a lot.  Which I am.

Life as I know it -- so different than I expected and still good.

It's My Birthday!

It has been a completely wonderful, fantastic, unbelievable weekend - truly a whole weekend of happiness. 

My life is good :)

Fun trip to the Museum of Science and Industry + delicious dinner at the Athena restaurant in Chicago's Greektown on Friday to celebrate the Hoosier Guy & my 1st anniversary together.

A day of homework, then a fabulous dinner with Hoosier Guy and his momma on Saturday night -- Hoosier Guy surprised me with some pretty jewelry I'd been eyeing a few weeks back.

Sunday was a delicious lunch prepared by Hoosier Guy to my specifications for his momma, my momma, himself and me.   Coconut Cake TO DIE FOR.  mmmmmm.

Lots of laughs, lots of fun -- enjoyed every minute.

Here's to 38!

There goes October, here comes November

September 29, really?  My last post?

Where has the time gone?

*Another 5,000 pages+ read
*A book review
*Research for three lit reviews
*Reading.  Yes.  Always.
*Sleeping (occasionally)
*Travel to Florida to deliver Grandma to Dad & Stepmom's house
*Visit with friends in Florida
*Travel to Michigan with Hoosier Guy for romantic weekend
*Breathe peacefully for the first time in a month

More later ... I don't know how much later, but later.  Promise

Ridiculous. Just Plain Ridiculous.

I've had a million thoughts in my head since the last post.  I mean, really, probably two million, at least.  I just haven't had the energy to post.  Not on Fridays, not on Tuesdays, not just whenever.

I'm reading something like 1000 pages a week (which, if you add it up, over the course of the semester I will have read at least 16,000 pages or roughly ~ 4,000,000 words.

So maybe I'm out of words here.  For now.  I hate that.

Life update:  I'm good, life is good, loving my existence.  I love the commute into Chicago now - probably because it is so very peaceful and relaxing.  Sure, it takes awhile, but all I have to do is: a) find a seat and b) give my ticket to the conductor.  This isn't rocket science people.

Life with the Hoosier Guy is fabulous.  Truly lovely.  I was nervous (of course) when we first started talking about it, scared to make that jump but even more scared not to.  Here we are, nearly two months in and I just feel like my life is damn near perfect.  I'm happy I made the move in with him.

Other than reading (which I do constantly), I go to class, work at my graduate assistant job, commute and sleep.  On occasion I do things with friends when we can all find a mutually agreeable time for fun.  This can be difficult but I am trying.

I head back to Florida in a few weeks with my Grandma.  She's moving there with my Dad and I want to make sure she arrives safely.  This should provide some fodder for the blog, fo' sure.

Dear readers, I miss blogging.  I hope to get back to a regular schedule soon.  Or maybe I just OD on blog posting when school is out for the semester.  Who knows?

6 Word Fridays: Move

This week's word is move ... and for me (as well as several fellow bloggers) this is so very appropos!  Thanks Melissa!  http://melissacamarawilkins.com/blog/

I stretch, I yawn, I move ...
slowly from my warm bed, easing out
from beneath a cozy quilt, purring cats,
and away from my Hoosier Guy.

Three days a week I move
from country life to city life
learning more each passing week and
loving every minute of my experience.

Other days I move from couch
to chair for my plentiful readings
require lots of time not moving,
just sitting, grasping new concepts. Learning.

This weekend I move via car,
to visit friends and family in
Indianapolis - fish fry, girls night out,
lunches with friends galore. Moving never
felt so lovely - I am home.

6 Word Fridays: Exchange

If you don't try it ... you might not know you like it ... 6 Word Fridays!  This week's word is 'exchange.'

****************

I exchanged my free time for
a ride into Amish and Mennonite
country.  Traded fast highways for county
roads and following a one horse
buggy.  Hoosier Guy and I were
on a mission: fresh local food.

We entered the produce auction in
awe.  Aisles and aisles of nature's
bounty: pears, apples, potatoes, cabbages, corn,
peaches, pumpkins, cushaws, peppers, mums, melons.
All in large quantity, all waiting
for a buyer, two or three.

I bought some molasses cookies - yum!
We had our bidder number - ready
I stood back, watching the auctioneer
move through the aisles, auctioning off
the hard work of my neighbors.

In the end, we exchanged money
for delicious, home-grown veggies, fruits and
baked goods.  Little green slips of
paper for a summer's efforts by
my Amish and Mennonite neighbors.  Hoosier Guy
bought some tomatoes from a girl
was buying a new dress with
her proceeds.  Others had similiar goals.

They thought the exchange was fair,
I wondered how we could process
our auction bounty in a timely
manner - tomatoes yesterday, peaches are tomorrow!

The Oatmeal - really, go there now.

http://theoatmeal.com/comics/minor_differences4

I know I've mentioned the Oatmeal before, but really, folks, if you aren't checking out his work, for shame.

(gets out her fingers, making the 'shame shame' motion)

This is the latest installment in Minor Differences - so worthy, please check it out.

For the record, this one made me laugh especially hard.  I'm 37 and Hoosier Guy's kid is rapidly approaching 17.  He is in luuuuuuvvvvv with a girl and after hearing his grandmother tell me about how she watched he and his girlfriend make out all afternoon, well, this one was a little too close to home not to share.

And no, I've not smothered Hoosier Guy with a pillow.  Nor has he threatened to smother me.  All good. :)

6 Word Fridays: Easy

 This week's word is 'easy' and I'm back ....

Easy living is a life well lived,
from my walk to the postoffice
to a meander for delicious gelato
I'm loving my time here in
small town Indiana.  The pace is
calm, the setting picturesque, truly Rockwell.

Then I take my easy life
to Chicago, via train, 3x week
Still easy - sit back, relax, ride
click clack sounds of train wheels
taking me to my other life
the life of a Ph.D. student

The readings are challenging, the work
is thoughtful, I am happy here.
From leafy green rural Indiana town
to booming, teeming, big Chicago city,
I am happy - it's easy here.

Organized Chaos (and life as I know it)

The movers arrived and the stuff was placed where it goes (sort of).  For people like Hoosier Guy (who haven't moved complete residences -- e.g. all your belongings from House A to House B), the boxes, furniture and assorted madness was and is overwhelming.  He keeps a clean and efficient household, with not much nonsense to spare. I have some level of nonsense - and it is all now in residence.

Good news is that things are coming together.  I have some stuff that needs to be dispatched to others but overall it is starting to come together.  I have plenty of work to be done yet but it is showing signs of improvement. 

I'm happy to be here and ready to start school (one week from tomorrow).  Life as I know it is still changing and I'm so excited for all the promise of what is to come.

This weekend was our first weekend with his boys post move-in.  I'm still learning the intricacies of "boy" as I have only had a sister, so the notion of "boys" and their particular brand of nonsense is all new to me.  It will be an adjustment for all of us but overall, it is going quite well.  They are great kids and I enjoy learning about them. 

Overall, a good life change.  I'm happy, life is good.

The first week ...

This first week has been busy - so much done and so much yet to do. 

The movers have not arrived yet.  That's scheduled for tomorrow at 8 a.m. 

In this first week, I've worked hard around here to make it a 'home' for me.  For those of you keeping track of these things, it has been 6 years since I've lived with someone -- and that last someone was my Hex.  In a strange, weird, odd, bewildering twist of fate, I moved to Hoosier Guy's house six years to the date of moving out of the Hex's home.

The kitties are making themselves at home here.

I'm happy.  Life is good.  I start classes August 22 ...

Official Relocation Notice

I am now a resident (once again) of Northwest Indiana -- about 15 miles from where I grew up. 

The last two days, Hoosier Guy and I, along with two cats, lots of possessions, a Honda Accord and a car top carrier, have commuted from SW Florida to NW Indiana, a distance of some 1100 miles.  

I am happy to be here, but tired.   More info soon ...

(special note to reader CJ: I waved at you as we passed thru Macon :)  )

The moving truck is headed north.

Saturday was the big moving day.  The movers arrived at 8 and left right before 11. 

I am left with: an airbed, bedding, clothing, some cleaning supplies, snacks, and some household stuff.

I slept a few hours after they left, then was in bed by ten that night -- sleeping until 10 Sunday morning.  I was/am exhausted.  Now for a week of 'see ya later' lunches and dinners as well as a few peaceful days.  Next stop: Tampa -- to Dad's house for the weekend.

Advanced Camping -- that's me this week.

6 Word Fridays: Love

This week's word is love -- how lovely, yes?  Thanks Melissa!

http://www.5lovelanguages.com/learn-the-languages/the-five-love-languages/

These past six years, I've often

thought of love.  What it is,

what it could be, what it

should be, what I want it

to be.  Since my divorce I

don't allow fanciful notions of love

not anymore - I want to see

it, feel it, taste it, know!

I've been with Hoosier Guy now

for eight plus months.  Learning, listening,

finding what I was missing before.

Turns out, I didn't know love,

I didn't understand what it means

to GET love as well as

GIVE it. Learning the love languages,

knowing which one appeals to me,

finding out which one he speaks.

My love language -- acts of service,

his love language is physical touch.

I move next week -- to him,

to 'our' space, he's worked hard,

to transform a dusty storage area

into a beautiful home for us.

He is speaking my love language,

and I am ever so thankful.

So, Hoosier Guy, this Friday is

for you -- my love, my darling.

Your acts of service for us

mean more than you can know. 

You've cleaned space, hauled trash out,

stained and sealed paneling, painted trims,

painted a chimeny, painted a bookshelf,

replaced ceiling tiles, hung ceiling fan,

painted walls, sanded floors, sealed floors,

planted flowers, hung lights, placed lights,

and installed welcome mat - for us.

There are other things, 'surprises' you

call them, which I'll see soon.

Acts of service - you love me.

I love you, my Hoosier Guy.

Thank you for making our home.

Out of the blue

When I moved to Fort Myers a couple of years ago, I knew that my first college roommate had grown up here (we went to college in Missouri), but that she didn't live here anymore.

We reconnected on Facebook.  Then a few months ago we attended a friendraiser/fundraiser for our alma mater here in town and finally ran into each other.  She had relocated back to Fort Myers and we both hugged about a million times and chattered like magpies at each other.  Promises were made to reconnect and somehow, we both lost track of time.

She called me today, said she had meant to call me a million times (as I had her), but she was calling to have dinner/drinks.  She asked what I was up to, what was going on, etc -- so I told her I was moving, next week in fact, and she wanted to have drinks sooner than later.

So Monday I'll have drinks with her -- and I can't wait. :) 

Moving Update

Kitchen is done, except for junk drawer and a few decorator items which seem to defy packing (I think they hide when the boxes/tape come out, and return when I say "eff-this, I'm done for today").

Good news from yesterday, yours truly has a graduate assistantship at my new university!  Bonus +2 is I will a) get paid and b) get some tuition and fees paid.  Woo to the Hoo!  The best news about this is that it is minimal (10 hours per week) and I will be scheduled around my class time (very good news).

I have been writing thank you notes to coworkers here at the current job.  My last day here is July 29. 

I had a raging bout of insomnia last night - dreamt of a huge-ass spider crawling on me (in the dream, it was the size of my hand and HAIRY), so I was in no great hurry to shut my eyes again.  I think I passed back out an hour later or so.

Hoosier Guy has sanded, stained and poly'd the wood floor in our living room/office area.  I am dying to see it, but will see it August 2, so trying to contain my need to know, albeit unsuccessfully.

Am giving a few furniture items to a coworker - she is a single mom, living on her own for the first time since her daughter was born a couple years ago.  I know what it is like to move into a place with jack-shit-nothing, so giving stuff to her seems like good karma for the future, no?

It is hot here.  It is always hot here.  Repeat these statements daily from April to October.

Storage Unit (Check)

My next two weeks look a lot like this:

Monday: Storage Unit organization & labeling (check)
Tuesday: Kitchen
Wednesday: Remainder of kitchen, deliver plants to KC
Thursday: Guest room remainder & office stuff remainder
Friday: Bedroom, last minute stuff
Saturday: movers
Sunday:  Sleep until I cannot sleep any more.
Monday: Give remaining furniture to a friend.
Tuesday - Friday: Lunches/dinners with friends
Saturday: Carpet cleaners, then turn in keys, head to Tampa
Sunday: Tampa
Monday: pick up Hoosier Guy in Tampa, head north!

Yes, dear readers, my time here in Florida draws to a close. I am nearly ready and can see the light at the end of the tunnel :)

Pictures from My Weekend

The movers arrive on Saturday, July 23.  This has been my weekend. For those new to the blog, on my last move I hired movers to pack my fragile items.  The descriptions on the boxes were priceless ... see first pic below.  For those of you who don't know what a door reef is, please consider this as movers-to-English translation: door wreath.

6 Word Fridays: Paid

This one was thought provoking ...

I've paid a heavy price, yes,

for knowledge I didn't want to

know.  Therapy, antidepressants, depression -- all to

determine that I am only me.

A woman who failed at one

marriage, who failed at stepparenting 101,

who failed at her former life.

The price I paid was high,

but the rewards are so rich.

For that price, I have gained

my sanity, my independence, my life ...

and I'm free to choose again.

I paid a price, oh yes,

One that was so very high. 

Now I own my own happiness.

Now I own my own truths.

Now I own my own rewards.

I hit a wall yesterday.

I have been working my tail off, packing stuff up.  Sorting, packing, tossing, selling.  Yep, stuff had to GO. 

so I woke up yesterday with a migraine.

I slept most of the day.  I feel better now.

I suppose it was my body's way of telling me to SLOW DOWN.

So I did.  The kitties and I had a nice bed-day. 

I could sleep more now ... ;)

6 Word Fridays: Line

This week’s Six Word Fridays topic? LINE. Line ‘em up, toe the line, walk the line. Draw a line in the sand. What’s my line? Tell me Friday, won’t you?

Double stacked, in a long line
the moving boxes stare at me
now packed tight, with precious belongings
they await their turn in line
to be loaded onto the truck.

These are the days I think
longingly, lovingly of a backpack lifestyle
two pairs of panties, two bras
some socks, two tshirts, jeans, shorts
in a backpack on my back.

instead I look at the boxes
lined up, ready, waiting, nearly there
and wonder how - how - even with
Goodwill, resale shops and giveaways, that
I have this much stuff boxed.

line it up boys -- headed north!

On Getting Older ...

Generally I ruminate on my life, my place in the world and how I came to be in it around my birthday.  Seems that birthdays are good for such ponderances. 

It's not my birthday and yet I ponder.

A few weeks ago I was back in Indiana visiting.  During my visit, I was notified that my Grandma (last remaining grandparent, Dad's mom) was in the hospital.  Congestive Heart Failure was the diagnosis and she was in intensive care.  When I arrived to visit her, she was in good spirits and upbeat (as she is wont to be) and certainly didn't *look* as sickly as I imagined.  The simple fact is that she is 92 and her heart is slowing down. 

She's gotten littler over the years, going from 5'3" and 125 lbs or so to probably 4'10" and maybe 90 lbs.  I'd guess her at less, really, but it pains me to write it.  Her skin is thin and she bruises easily.  Despite all the bodily disrepair, her mind is sharp -- razor sharp - and she knows what is going on around her, with her and with her loved ones.  She continues to live alone (oh yes, she does) and her greatest fear is a nursing home.  She has absolutely no interest in that -- none.

As I sat holding her hand, I really *looked* at her hands for the first time in ages.  These same hands that had held me as a child, hugged me, caressed me and fed me were just shadows of their former strength now.

It was as if I were looking into a time machine at what my own hands will look like someday.

My strong hands, free of wrinkles and full of strength, will become what hers are now.  My ability to do things for myself will diminish, I will age.  I will find myself needing others to do for me what I have always done for myself. 

Which has brought me full circle to: and who will do that?

Right now I am unmarried, no kids.  Thus, no spouse and no children to take care of me in my old age.

It made me think of my own mortality in ways I've not before.  It was and is hard to think about. 

Like I said, ruminating. 

6 Word Fridays: Dare

Once again, please thank Melissa (and my many compatriots) for Six Word Fridays!
This week's word is 'dare.'

I dared to dream of life --
undone, reconstructed, demolished, changed, transformed, dynamic!
On to uncharted waters, unknown possibilities.
I opened my mind to education
I opened my heart to love
I opened my soul to transformation
Transcended what kept me stagnant.  Dull.

I will pack up my boxes
watch the movers load them all
and wait, just one week until
I join them in moving north.

Do I dare speak the truth?
Do I dare announce my happiness?
Do I dare shout my fortune?

I dare, indeed.  I move soon
to new space -- with my love.
Academically speaking, I'm starting over again.
Back to school I go -- Ph.D.
Not working, just studying, new life.
I dared dream -- transformed, I am.

6 Word Fridays: If

join the fun ... http://melissacamarawilkins.com/blog/

**************************

If I had a dime for

every time someone said "I wish"

I'd be a millionaire by now.

If is just a metaphor for

"I wish" or "Perhaps" or "Maybe ..."

If this, then that, but what?

If you are waiting on a

sign from above, this is it.

If you are waiting for the

exact right moment in time, that

is now. Right now, I say!

If you are waiting for everything

to be perfect, please give up.

Life is not perfect, it isn't.

If you wonder "what if I"

then quit wondering. Explore!  Find!  Do!

************************

Thanks, Melissa, for your ever inspiring word o' the week.  This week's topic of 'if' was quite timely, as I was discussing a friend's pending move and "what if" possibilities with him. 

If, indeed.

Divorce has lost its cachet? Really?

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/06/19/fashion/how-divorce-lost-its-cachet.html?_r=2&pagewanted=1

I've been reading about this article on various blogs I read -- and had to read it for myself.  The article's title, in and of itself, is fascinating to me.  I never, not once, thought divorce had any "cachet." 

A little background -- my parents split up right before I turned 13.  Sister was 9, going on 10 at the time.  By the middle of my 14th year, the divorce was final.  By the middle of my 15th year, my Dad remarried -- to Stepmom.  They have remained married for 22 years (so far).  Mom remarried (to Stepdad) nearly 8 years ago. 

A long quote from the article: "That a woman who has been divorced should feel such awkwardness and isolation seems more part of a Todd Haynes set piece than a scene from “families come in all shapes and sizes” New York, circa 2011. But divorce statistics, which have followed a steady downward slope since their 1980 peak, reveal another interesting trend: According to a 2010 study by the National Marriage Project at the University of Virginia, only 11 percent of college-educated Americans divorce within the first 10 years today, compared with almost 37 percent for the rest of the population. " (emphasis mine)

I am in that 11 percent.  My Hex is part of that 11 percent twice over (two marriages failed within the first ten years -- I was Wife #2). 

I never thought I would ever get divorced.  I had lived through a divorce (vicariously, of course) of my parents.  I had seen how damn ugly it could get, not just between the partners involved, but to the kids.  Divorce had no "cachet" to me whatsoever.  I didn't want it.

And then I did.

It's funny (not in a ha-ha but in a sad, remorseful way) to look back at the warning signs I clearly ignored or breezed by.  His son still sleeping in Hex's bed at age 6 (nightly), the ex-wife's constant presence and influence on our marriage, my nausea the night before/morning of my marriage (vomiting at 4 a.m. for no apparent reason on your wedding day should be taken as a sign), the prenup (which ultimately became a good thing for me) discussions just two weeks before the wedding (and not before), his insistence on paying the bills (and then paying my student loan late which affected my interest rate for years), his unwillingness to seek counseling with me after his son attacked me -- leaving me bruised head to toe -- at age 8. 

After that incident, I sought counseling for me.  I sought anti-depressants for me -- I was horribly depressed.  I spent the next year in counseling, getting myself together.

What I learned -- and what seems so obvious today -- is that I can only change me, not anyone else.  So I changed my life, moved out, got divorced and slugged through the last nearly 6 years of my life.

And now, despite my airplane hangar of baggage I carry around from that marriage, I have found acceptance of me -- as I am, baggage and all -- from Hoosier Guy.

Me -- I accepted myself as I am a long time ago.  I am an imperfect being and I like me.

Open Rant: Rude Bicyclists

Please note, I am not referring to the vast majority of safety-conscious bicyclists who share the road with me, whether on my bicycle or while I drive.  This is an open letter to some bicyclists I see regularly.

**********************

Dear "Riders:"

Yes, I use "Riders" in quotes to emphasize what you are doing.  You are "riding," often three across, on a road at the busiest time of morning (between 8 and 8:30), in a very congested area filled with people trying to get to work, get to school or just, well, GET somewhere. 

You don't bother to stop at stop signs, you do not yield at yield signs and you apparently believe any road designated as a bicycle friendly road is for your sole use, never mind that it is actually a road to be shared. 

I am sure you could tell me many tales of how you've been abused as riders, how cars came too close, how people tried to run you off the road.  I sympathize, I do, I ride my bicycle too and for many years, it was my primary form of transportation, even on the shoulder of a 55 mph highway.  Yes, I get it, I do.

What I do not get is your insistence on behaving like a pack of wild animals on wheels.  Swerving into traffic when you want to chat with whomever is ahead of you in the bike pack, blocking traffic while traveling 2-3 abreast and disobeying nearly every traffic law known just to have your ride?  

A few helpful tips for you "riders" and the people that share the road with you.

1. Ride single file. 

2. Obey traffic signs.  Yes, This Means You.  It is extremely distracting (and dangerous, I might add) to stop at a stop sign and have a flurry of bicycle activity on my right as not one of you bothers to stop.

3. Perhaps try to ride at a less congested time.  I know this sounds crazy as all get-out, but between 8-8:30 on a college campus (as well as between 4-5) is a madhouse.  Cars, people, bicycles, motorcycles, skateboards -- you name it.  Everyone trying to get somewhere.  Iffen you would ride a little earlier (say 7:30) through campus, you'd be safer.  Even 9 would be safer.  Just a suggestion from me to you.

4. Cars would be glad to share the road with you if you would be willing to share it with them. 

5.  Keep wearing your helmets.  The more you ride the way you do, the more likely you are to need them.  Trust.

Booked the Movers.

I have been waffling, dear readers, over whether or not to hire movers.  I did when I moved here (I had my employer pay for part of the costs) and the thought of 'self-moving' the amount of stuff I own seemed like a good idea for about ten minutes.

Then reality set in.

So I looked into renting a truck, driving it with Hoosier Guy, but hiring movers on both ends to haul stuff inside.  Add price of fuel, packing supplies (moving blankets, etc), insurance, hassle -- well it seemed perfectly reasonable to let "someone else" deal with it.

So I've priced movers, several of them, in fact.  Moving prices ranged up and down, with a high of $4800 (bwahahahahaahaha cough cough gag) to a low of $2300, all supposedly guestimated with "DOT rates."  I did find a mover that I liked who was midrange in this range and he agreed to come down after we discussed the rates I'd received.  Granted, he still isn't the lowest rate, but he is much more reasonable after he sharpened his pencil a bit.  Lesson to be learned -- always negotiate.  Always.

The movers are scheduled to arrive at my house on July 22, 2011.  They will deliver on August 3rd in Indiana.  

Now I have to giddyup on getting the rest packed up. :)

Moving on ... back to Hoosierland in 41 days or so.

5.5 Weeks and Counting

I am now down to 5.5 weeks in Southwest Florida.  I've officially lived here two years now and I have a few general observations:

1.  It is hot from April 1 - November 1.  When I say "hot," I mean 90+ degrees with 90%+ humidity.  This is not exaggeration.  I will not miss the heat.

2. April 1 - November 1 is what I call "winter" in Southwest Florida.  Same premise as Indiana -- when it is cold cold cold, you stay indoors and try to stay warm.  In this area of Florida you stay indoors and try to stay cool.

3.  The Sun Is No Joke down here.  SPF 70 has been my friend.  My dermatologist says I have great skin (sunscreen sunscreen + white girl skin that doesn't tan anyway has its benefits).

4. I've had more visitors here than I ever had in Indy.  I've really loved that.

5. I've made good friends here and I'm thankful.  I will miss them all.

6. I've also been lonelier here than I have ever been -- I've had to learn to enjoy my own company more.  In Indy I had a wide circle of friends with something going on constantly -- here I have a few friends and they have limited time. 

6 Word Fridays: Kind

This week’s Six Word Fridays topic: KIND. Be kind? Of a kind? Kind of sort of? Kindly share six words with us, won’t you?  (Thanks Melissa, as ever, if you want to see more (and YOU DO) go to http://www.makingthingsup.com/)

I try to live my life
by being kind.  Being kinder than
some folks deserve, sure, I admit.

Be kind in the face of
hateful, despite unpleasantness, aside from rude.
Being kind is not being naive,
it is choosing to be nice.
Above all, it is your choice.
And rude, hateful, horrible, nasty people
won't make that choice for me.

KC ... also known as foodaloo

http://foodaloo.wordpress.com/

Dear readers, please welcome KC to the blogroll.  She's my friend here in SW Florida who is girl genius with wine, food and merriment.  She has a darling, precious little girl with her Italian husband.

Read her blog, learn something.  I do and I will.

:)

The Email That I Don't Want

Hello Athena,


I just wanted to say hello and check to see how you were doing. I have a new phone number xxx-xxx-xxxx, if you ever want to get in touch with me. I was just thinking about you today and wanted to say hello.

Talk to you soon,

Jack
*******************************************************************

For those of you playing along at home, Jack was a guy I dated a few years ago. He and I met thru a dating site, where he proclaimed to be divorced for three years, single now, no kids.

I later found out that: 1) he wasn't divorced, had never been divorced; 2) was, in fact, married to a very nice woman and 3) wasn't apparently planning on divorcing, just liked to cheat.  Oh, and his wife said they'd had a number of problems in their 12 (!) year marriage but she always hoped he'd change.

Oh Sister, Love May Be Blind, but You've Gouged Out Your EYES.

Since that time, I've not been in contact with him.  I have received a few emails from him (like the one above, received at my work email account last night), but have steadfastly ignored him. 

I will continue to do so.

'Talk to you soon' -- how's never, Jack?  Never good for you?  Good for me.

6 Word Fridays: Near

This week’s (not sunburn-related) Six Word Fridays topic: NEAR. Near and dear? Nearly there? Drawing near? (see more at www.makingthingsup.com) Thanks Melissa!



Time draws close, time draws near

to say goodbye to Southwest Florida

my home for nearly two years.

I came near to making this

my permanent home -- with real estate

purchase eminent and big plans made. 

Looking back, this near miss was

profound.  It caused me to reevaluate

what it was I wanted -- period.

Nearly a year later, I sit

amidst packing boxes, to do lists,

class schedules and a renewed purpose.

Near miss?  No -- a course correction

to the future I dreamed about

nearly a year ago this month.

Kids.

In the last 24 hours, I've heard from friends about their kids.  From the cutest video ever (!) to a horrid story of a kid who knows better and was taught better doing an unbelieveably boneheaded thing.

It makes me think.

Here I am -- 37 years of age, no kids, no prospects for kids on the horizon.  Am I missing something?  Am I truly fulfilled by my no kid life?  What will life be like when I live with Hoosier Guy and his kids?  Will that truly show me what having kids is all about or will it be just an open window into that life?

The first time I talked about having kids was with my first fiance.  He wanted kids before he was 30 (he was 6 years older than I) and I balked.  I didn't want kids at 24.

The next time I talked about kids was with the Hex.  We got married when I was 29 and we talked about having a kiddo in the next few years of our marriage, as he had a son and wanted another child.  By year two, I knew we weren't going to have kids and I wanted to revisit the notion of marriage itself.  By year three, we were in the process of divorce. 

After that episode, I pretty much resigned myself to no kids, not unless I met someone with kids or who wanted to have a kid.  I like kids, I like other people's kids, I enjoy being around kids -- I just don't have any.

It is times like the last 24 hours that I realize that parenting and children are a series of high highs and low lows, much like life itself.

I'm sure my friends who are parents will tell me I've missed out on the experience of having children.  They are right -- I have. 

What I haven't missed out on is the experience of being around children -- and for that I am profoundly grateful. 

What A Weekend.

I was a whirling dervish of activity and fun --

Friday was dinner with my extended family here -- big fun, lots of wine, good times.

Saturday was hauling furniture from A to B and from C to A, a stop at the fleamarket for some necklace restringing, making pies and veggie pizza for dinner with friends.

Sunday was lunch with friends in St. Pete, dinner with Dad, Stepmom and Stepgrandma in Gibsonton and then a return home.  Finished some laundry, got my day completed.

I was tired when I passed out last night.  Still a little tired today.  It is clear I have a lot to do and not a lot of time.

55 Days until I move.

Wow.

6 Word Fridays: Joy

Check out more at http://www.makingthingsup.com/ ...

Thanks Melissa ... this week's word is joy.

**********************************

Joy defined -- for me at least --

is laughter of a delighted child

at a new surprise, moment, thought

Joy defined for my own life

is sharing my life with friends

and family.  Taking time to truly

communicate with each other. Beyond words.

Joy is that feeling I get

when I think about my life

and how damn lucky I am

to have loads of friends, loving

family, new opportunities and life 2.0.

Postscript ... the pictures ...

My Mom and my cousin both loved the pictures they received from my box of keepsakes.  There were some from 10+ years back in there and it was good to see people as they were then.

It reminded me, though, that I have work to do personally.  This weight is not going to come off by itself, so I have to giddy'up in that department.  Told Hoosier Guy this weekend that my food intake was going to be restricted and he said he'd do whatever to support me.

I can't believe it is June 1.  Where did this year go?

6 Word Fridays: Kept

Thanks Melissa -- for more entries, see http://www.makingthingsup.com/

*****************************************************

I think I've kept every single

solitary piece of paper ever touched

by me, someone I love, or

well, anyone.  Journals, wedding programs, letters,

countless scraps of paper. These pale

in comparison to the pictures. Oh

yes, the pictures -- thousands of them.

Hauled to six addresses in thirteen years.

A small cedar box holds things

precious beyond words -- pictures, obituaries, announcements

each of them tied to someone

who was or is very important. 

But this is more than that --

it is the 42 inch tall

box filled with paper, photos, memories.

I've kept them all, in a

box for the last thirteen years.

Added to it, sure, many times.

Subtracted?  Never -- not until this moment.

I finally tackled the memory mountain

determined what was to be kept

and what could be given away.

It was freeing, frightening and necessary.

I have memories in my head

I kept those, safe and sound.

Paper isn't memories.  Photos aren't memories.

Scraps of paper are not memories.

Those are remnants of time passed.

So I kept all my memories

Kept some photos, paper, letters.

And let the rest say goodbye.

*******************************************
Wow, Melissa, you are good with the timely topics of late.  I spent last Saturday wading through my guest room, determining what could be kept and what could go to trash, Goodwill or friends. 

I mailed off 10 letters yesterday -- to friends -- with photos that they may not have seen or knew existed.  I hope they enjoy them.  I did when I found them, but I also knew that I was not going to keep them further -- so I blessed someone else.  If you are someone who received a letter with photos -- just know that you do not have to keep them 13 years in a box -- you can look at them, enjoy them and let them go if you like. Do not be strangled by the tyrrany of stuff -- I am trying not to be.

The "Scrapbook Box" and how I freed myself from its grip.

I should say that I admire, greatly, those who scrapbook.  Those who take the tidbits of life and make beautiful, gorgeous pages for all to adore. 

I am not of your ilk. 

I have had a box of "scrapbook" stuff that I have hauled:

from Maple Lane
to Liberty Creek
to Rose
to 1st Ave NW
to Sea Oats
to Reflection Cove Drive.

Yes, friends, six addresses, 13 years. The box has been opened on occasion, to find what it is I believe I want to see, but never truly been explored to its depths. 

On Saturday I looked through it.

I found hundreds of pictures.  Some good, lots meh, lots bad, a few great.  The bad pics (out of focus, blank pictures, blurry) went straight to the trash.  Nothing to see here.   The meh pictures were sorted to determine if anyone else may want them (because I don't anymore).  I found a virtual treasure trove of pictures of old, good friends.  So I sorted those and some of you will receive pictures in the mail soon. 

The good and great were sorted again -- into pictures to keep and pictures to pass on.  The keepers were resorted into a now much-depleted basket.  The others were put in the "pass it on" file ...

Thus, the tyranny of the scrapbook box and my guilt over it was ended. 

I think.

I woke up this morning in a panic over one (1) of the hundreds of pictures that I had trashed.  It was a picture of me and my sister on my wedding day as she hooked grandma's necklace around my throat.  To think of that moment, that picture, pains me more than it brings me pleasure.  I had such hope, such promise in my eyes that day and the picture captured it perfectly.  I know the rest of the story now -- and that is where the pain comes in.

It is okay, that one picture that I miss.  It is in my mind's eye ... I don't need that sadness following me around any more. 

In Case of Rapture ... Really?

Who knows, maybe this blog will be burning in the eternal fires of hell tomorrow sometime, but really -- rapture?  On 5/21/2011?  What about December 12, 2012 -- which is also apparently a big day for the rapture.

Let me say this -- I am all for religious freedom.  I don't care what you believe in or how you worship, save that it hurts others, small children or woodland creatures. 

However, the ramping up of crazy on the "end of the world is coming May 21, 2011" has hit a fever pitch.  I heard someone on NPR (?) talking about selling all their stuff and awaiting the end of mankind (tomorrow), I have seen facebook pages pop up devoted to getting the "stuff" of the people raptured and countless internet postings on the subject.

If I'm wrong, and hey, I'm good to admit it, I suppose this blog won't mean more than a dusty fart come Sunday.   If I'm right, and the world continues to exist on Sunday, well, this blog may still well be worth only a dusty fart but I will be able to wonder aloud at the people that sold all their stuff, cars and homes for a rapture that didn't happen. 

So, dear readers, are you Rapture-Prepared?  Or just rolling with it, wondering how these people will wake up on Sunday -- disillusioned?  disgusted? re-invigorated for 12/12/12? buying more stuff immediately?  joining a new church/cult that believes THEY have the key to the date of rapture?

This world amuses me mightily, it does.

****************************************
This post is courtesy of a conversation I had with some friends last night over the "end of the world is coming Saturday."  One good friend said he didn't want to buy his usual 18 pack of beer on Friday, that he'd just buy a 12 pack, because "it would sure piss him off if he wasted beer." 

6 Word Fridays: Charmed

Ongoing, continual thanks to Melissa for inspiring so many with her Six Word Fridays.  Check out http://www.makingthingsup.com/ for other blogs celebrating 6 Word Fridays.  This week's word is "Charmed."

******************

It is when I feel most
envious, that I believe others have
a charmed existence.  Bereft of doubt,
lack of worry, plenty of everything,
they have it all, in spades.

But then I realize, their life
is no more free of worry,
want or doubt than mine is.
In fact, we are both charmed
in our own way, each envious
of the others' life, wondering about
the others' seemingly charmed life, indeed.

'Seemingly' is the key, as each
of us leads a charmed life
to someone, somewhere else, as the
grass is always greener over there :)

*********************

This post was based on a short snippet of conversation the other day between KC, Mary and I.  Two years ago, the three of us spent countless hours drinking wine and hanging out.  Today, we can do that, in short snippets of time, because both KC and Mary have beautiful baby girls.  There are times I am envious of them and their charmed lives.  It struck me, however, that my life must appear charmed to them too, as I was asked what I was doing the rest of the night (after Mary announced she and her husband were looking at a minivan and KC announced she was finally able to get away for a facial after her husband would be home to take care of the baby) -- and the question was posed if I'd be "out partying" that evening.  I said I didn't plan to be, but then it reminded me that for them to be "out partying" requires a whole hell of a lot more effort than me, given children, child care, nursing schedules, bedtime schedules, nap schedules ... for me, it is "I want to" and I do.

Guilty as Charged

http://theoatmeal.com/comics/moving

I have been this person.  I don't want to be this person any more. 

So I'm working on it, throwing out trash, giving away what is good enough to be given away and sorting through the rest.  Trying like hell to make some sense of this two bedroom apartment to which I now reside.

Trying to be rid of what isn't necessary for this next phase of life.

Here's to hoping -- and hiring movers, because it is the least I can do for the people I love.

I have a lot of crap.  Time to get moving, er, sorting.

Every step a little closer ... a recipe!

I'm currently in the process of "using up" the food/spices in the house.  I don't want to move much, if anything, in that department so I've been cooking like mad. 

This week's experiment?  Quiche -- which I always thought meant 'difficult' in French since nearly every restaurant that makes quiche acts like they have the secret to turning iron into gold.  Not true, dear readers, not true at all.

Easy Quiche -- or "quiche doesn't mean 'difficult' in French"
350 oven, 30 minutes, muffin tins - greased

1/2 cup flour
5 eggs, beaten
2 T butter, melted
1 cup fat-free half and half
1/2 cup fat-free milk
6 slices bacon, fried and crumbled
1/2 cup matchstick carrots
1/2 cup sliced, then diced (small) potatoes -- I used red potatoes
1/2 cup minced onion
1/2 cup minced green peppers
1/2 cup minced mushrooms
1/2 cup zucchini, shredded
1 cup grated cheese (I used colby-jack, but your call)

Mix flour, eggs, butter, half and half, milk, bacon, carrots, potatoes, mushrooms, zucchini and cheese.  During this time, saute the onions and green peppers, then add to the mixture.  Scoop into greased muffin tins, then bake for 30 minutes in a 350 oven.  Turn the pans once, at 15 minutes, to ensure even baking throughout the tins.  Makes approximately 18 quiche-muffins.

To reheat these little darlings -- 45 seconds on high in the microwave.  Mmm mmm.

**********************
This was a combination of a few recipes on AllRecipe.com.  I wanted something with less refined carbs (i.e. no crust, little flour), and more heavy on veggies.  I added bacon because I had it, but it isn't necessary.  This is truly delicious and I've eaten it for every meal since I made it. I add a salad at lunch and dinner just to get a few more veggies.  Yes, dear readers, I am trying to pay attention to my veggie count. 

In terms of what veggies I used, this is what I had on hand.  Clearly, any combination of veggies in 1/2 cup or 1 cup combinations would work too.  I only wish I had remembered the sun-dried tomatoes I had -- those would have definitely made the cut. 

Next time.  There are more veggies in the fridge which need consumed.

Fifteen years since college?

Okay, this is weird.  Certifiably, undeniably, utterly weird.

I was reading my friend Jamie's blog (The Promise 365) and she was writing about her weekend in Boston (okay, cool) and then she mentioned something -- her fifteen year college reunion.

Has it really been 15 years since I graduated Butler?  I mean, REALLY?  Well, 1996 was 15 years ago and I did graduate in 1996, so I guess this means that I've really been out of college for fifteen years.

What I remember best about graduation day was Kurt Vonnegut spoke (yes, THE Kurt Vonnegut -- an Indianapolis native and friend of Butler) and that my family left me there with no way back to my apartment and my graduation party.

Yeah, you read that right.

Graduation day was cold, rainy, miserable.  Graduation was held outside in a covered pavilion (that no longer stands today) and my extended family all came to see me graduate -- something like fifteen people or so.  Although Kurt was spectacular (he was), it was a miserable grind of a graduation.  At the end, I walk out of the pavilion and head into Hinkle Fieldhouse (the gym area) where graduates are supposed to meet their families. 

There is not one member of my family there.  And my car is back at my apartment, approximately a twenty minute drive away.

Remember, these are the days before cell phones.  I have no money (cap and gown don't truly allow for purse), am in a dress (hence, no pockets), and I am stuck at my own graduation.  I borrow a quarter and use the payphone, calling my house line in hopes of finding someone there.  No one answers, I learn later, because they didn't want to answer my phone and intrude on my business. "Besides that, everyone is there, who could be calling?," my mother says cheerfully, later that day.  Argh.

All of the family, after hearing my name called, me go across the stage, and return to my seat, leaves Butler to head to my apartment for the party.  Not one of them thought of me, despite me riding with them there and my car being obviously located and parked back at the apartment.

Luckily enough, I found my roommate.  She, her mom and I rode back to the apartment in a two-seater Honda Prelude.  Yep, three people, two seats.  It was tight but we managed.

My family?  Nonplussed.  The story is still the family joke.  Apparently they all thought I was riding with "someone else" in the family and it never occurred to them until I got home that I didn't have a ride.

Fifteen years. 

For my master's degree ceremony I had my own car.  I'll do the same for Ph.D.

6 Word Fridays: Wisdom

Many thanks to Melissa for being my muse, week after week.

************************************

Wisdom is so much more than

knowledge, learning, thought, contemplation, experience or education.

Wisdom is a combination of these --

hard-earned, often with a pain component.

Wisdom is what I gain after

failure, success, loss, gain, thought, contemplation.

To be wise -- always a goal.

************************************

This week has been an alpha and omega week for me.  On Monday, dear friends Mary and Lee welcomed baby girl Ellie into their lives.  On Tuesday, I spoke with a dear friend about her ups and downs.  On Wednesday, a friend of the family passed, less than 8 weeks since her diagnosis of brain cancer.  I write this on Thursday, knowing that tomorrow morning (Friday) when this publishes, I'll be on a plane heading north, to see family, to see friends, and to see my Hoosier Guy.

So much joy, so much pain -- all in one week.  I try hard to see the forest for the trees but there are weeks where it all seems so much. 

Please, dear readers, join me in thinking, prayer, meditation (your choice) for love for our loved ones, peace for those that love them, and arms that know when to hold, when to hug and when to just touch. None of us knows, nor can ever have, the knowledge of what is to come in the next second, minute, hour, day, week, month or year ...

Namaste. 



Serendipity

There are some days where I would *swear* the universe just knows what we need when we need it.

Yesterday was one of those days.

I spent Tuesday night on the phone with a friend.  Lu (as you've been introduced to before) lost her husband of 17 years in 2009 to complications following a fall. [See blog post here: http://athenainindy.blogspot.com/2009/09/my-friend-steve.html]

We talked about how her work is going (boo hiss -- return of a jackass for a boss [I may be insulting jackasses by comparing them to him]), her kids (family drama), and her missing Steve (we all do).  She said something that stuck with me on Tuesday -- she said "I feel like I'm cheating when I go out with other guys." 

I had to stop, take a deep breath, and tell her that Steve would want her to be happy -- whatever the hell 'happy' is right now for her.  Certainly happy today does not look like happy two years ago at this time --

Last night I talked to Hoosier Guy about this.  We've talked many times about how we didn't know each other in high school (despite a total HS population of 600 or so), only knew OF each other through mutual friends.  Each of us has said -- what if we'd met then -- would things have gone completely different for us?

I don't know.  I think so.  I think, truly and honestly, each year, each moment, each moment of happiness or heartbreak shapes us.  I'm certainly not the person I was a year ago, not the same as 5 years ago and certainly not the same as high school me, let alone the child me.  I don't think I (nor he for that matter) would appreciate each other and what we do for one another if both of us hadn't lived through our lives as they happened. 

--- Back to Lu.  As we talked about Steve and her feelings on dating, I felt a profound sadness for her, even more so developed with time.  She had "that guy."  Steve WAS, indeed, her soul mate.  Her lover, her friend, her confidante, her rock -- those were all Steve.  And one cruel, hateful September day, Steve was gone. 

Thinking about our conversation yesterday, I was perusing my blog, as I do.  I love to read the comments (yes, I read 'em all), and I happened upon a commenter I hadn't seen before -- CJ.  As per the norm, if I see someone I don't know, I click on their name and see if they have a blog.  If they do, I give it a read. 

CJ, if you read this, thank you for writing your blog.  I still don't (and can't) understand the depths of your loss, but I feel I've gained a greater understanding of Lu and her loss of Steve.  Thank you.  I don't know you, we've never met, but you've taught me a great deal through your words.  If you'll accept a cyber-hug from a stranger through this magical thing we call the Internet, please accept one from me. 

CJ's blog is below -- it isn't her only one, as she is a very prolific writer.  Again, CJ, thank you for commenting on my blog and allowing me a moment to glimpse into your life.  Seeing your comment yesterday and then reading your blog was serendipitous indeed.

http://theredsweater.blogspot.com/

6 Word Fridays: Yesterday

This week's topic ... yesterday.  Thanks Melissa!

***************************

I hear 'yesterday,' and think Beatles
John, Paul, Ringo, George ... those guys.
One of the most haunting songs
ever written -- yet I can't help
but sing along when I hear
it played on the radio. Yes
I believe in Yesterday.  Ah Yesterday.

If it weren't for lessons learned,
if it weren't for tears shed,
if it weren't for thoughts swirling,
if it weren't for those yesterdays ...
could we truly appreciate glorious TODAY?

Yesterday is for reflection, contemplation, thought
Today is for living ... lessons learned.
Tears shed, thoughts coalesced, reflection over.
If it weren't for yesterday, I
wouldn't be me today -- not even.
Yesterday made me strong.  Living today ...


**********************
Notable Quotations from George Santayana (philosopher and poet)


'Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.'

Life of Reason, Reason in Common Sense, Scribner's, 1905, page 284

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/George_Santayana

Night and Day

This ... this THING ... the Hoosier Guy and I have is night and day different than my past life.  Night and Day.  Opposite.  Dark and Light.  Finally -- into the light I venture.

This weekend we went to Key West -- had so much fun, laughing, joking, people watching, enjoying.  It was lovely and peaceful, just what I needed after so much crazy at work and crazy with worry about school.  On Saturday we took a boat trip out to the Dry Tortugas -- the end of the Keys and a national park.  I love national parks, try to visit whenever I can.  The trip was to include snorkeling and exploring Fort Jefferson (the site of the National Park and its environs). 

********************

I last went snorkeling on my honeymoon with the Hex.  We took a boat trip to two separate locations off Maui and saw lots of pretty fish and beautiful reefs.  Then the ride back -- choppy, stormy, windy.  I could see the dock and yet could not imagine it would take us two hours to get there -- that is how horrid it was.  I became seasick.  Barfed repeatedly.  Felt like hell. 

My new husband?  Taking pictures of my misery -- because he thought it was "Funny."

Hindsight?  I should have divorced his ass immediately upon return to Indiana.  We hadn't been married four days at this point. 

Homicide?  My fellow passengers (and the crew) would have considered it justifiable.

One nice crew member I'll never forget.  As I barfed repeatedly and my Hex took pictures, the crew member brought me a drink and whispered to me: "I'm sorry."  So am I, friend, so am I.

************************

I haven't been snorkeling since.  First, I'm not a good swimmer -- not really.  I have never been in the ocean above my waist without a boat being within twenty yards (no kidding).  Second, those horrid memories still make me angry.  Make me want to scream and shout at being wronged. Make me angry with myself for staying as long as I did, with someone who thought it was funny that I was sick on a boat and took pictures of my misery for his delight.  Assclown.

So this trip was a leap of faith for me.  I like the ocean.  I like the pretty fish.  I like seeing the underwater world.  I scheduled this trip for Hoosier Guy and I, hoping that I could share this moment with him, enjoy snorkeling -- or not. 

The boat ride out there was horribly choppy in the middle.  Yes, I barfed.  Repeatedly.  Breakfast?  Returned.  Hoosier Guy?  Steering me to the back of the boat, getting me some water, getting me some ginger ale, getting my stomach right, and steering me away from someone else who was barfing (and who would have barfed on me).  He took care of me -- sweetly, kindly, considerately.  Made sure I was okay, did everything to make sure I was gonna be okay.

Snorkeling?  We snorkeled, hand-in-hand, through the coral reefs surrounding Fort Jefferson.  I was farther than I've ever been (on my own power).  I was scared, but not horribly so, because I had my dear Hoosier Guy at my side, making sure I was okay, enjoying myself and pointing out the fish and the reefs. 

It was his first time snorkeling.  We'll do it again.

********************************
I didn't tell Hoosier Guy about my previous snorkeling experience before we went on the boat.  He knew I'd gone in the past, but didn't know about how it went.  He didn't know how Hex had reacted, he didn't know of my fear of deep water and fear of drowning.

He was who I've come to know and love -- a dear, wonderful man who cares for me and who wants me to be happy. 

I am so lucky to have gotten it right this time.  So thankful. So lucky.

6 Word Fridays: Last

As always, thanks Melissa ... this week, the word is "Last."

**********************************************

Last year, I contemplated my life
as I sat on Anna's couch
laptop ready, Mount Ranier in view
Oh What A View It Is
At that time, I had placed
an offer to buy a house
here in Southwest Florida. Then -- epiphany.
Why Southwest Florida?  Why not ... anywhere?!?!
Suddenly freed, I opened my mind
thinking what's next.  What I want.
If anything - what? Where? When? How?
It was then, just last year
I reordered my life. Planned "next."

Last December I applied for entry
to four schools -  Ph.D. programs in
four separate areas of the country.
After two "dings," my thoughts were
on the last two. Now what?

Last week I was desperate to
hear from the last two. Anything.

Finally. Good, nay, GREAT news from
Chicago. Going home - I can't wait.
AT LAST - I know. UIC bound!

BREAKING NEWS ----

THIS JUST IN -- ATHENA ACCEPTED TO GRADUATE SCHOOL AT THE UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS - CHICAGO FOR HER PH.D. IN PUBLIC ADMINISTRATION!

The Final Countdown ...

(da da da da, dum dum dum dum dum, da da da ... ) okay, so maybe the title of this post did not remind you of that 80s song, but it did me.

But seriously, folks.

I received an email on Friday night (which I opened on Sunday) that said the Ph.D. committee at University of Illinois -- Chicago is meeting today and information should be available by Wednesday on if I am accepted or not.

pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease

Knowing they are meeting today doesn't make me *too* anxious.  Nope, not me.  Makes me want to send them chocolate, flowers, not chocolate, goodies, bribes, pleas, etc but doesn't make me nervous.

I'm in. 
Or I'm not.

Pretty simple, really.  I don't know if I am but I will soon enough.

If I'm in ...

four years from now I could be approaching that ever-elusive doctorate. 

If I'm not ...

I retake the GRE again and apply for next year.

pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease

6 Word Fridays: Counting My Blessings

As always, a special thanks to Melissa at Making Things Up for her continued inspiration on the Friday topic!

************

My blessings -- they are legion indeed
Friends, family -- couldn't ask for better
I'm employed -- gainfully, job I enjoy

My house is cold when I
want it to be and hot
when it needs to be hot.
Food is readily available -- nutritious too!
Lights are on, water is fresh
Two darling kittens basking in sunshine
await me when I arrive home.
My clothes are clean, relatively new
I sleep in a soft bed --
freshly made just to my liking.

I can express myself without fear
of reprisal, repression or jail time.

Fresh air, clean water, blue skies
all await my arrival to outside

And -- lucky me -- I've found someone
to make me smile, daily, often
Count my blessings? WHERE TO START?

And you, dear readers, are blessings
I treasure your comments, suggestions, stories
You make me want to improve, learn,
craft, hone each entry like mirror.
Reflecting me, reflecting you, reflecting us.
I count my blessings -- Thank you.

The Oatmeal

http://theoatmeal.com/comics/airplane

If you've never seen The Oatmeal, please excuse yourself from this blog and go ... go immediately ...

I'll be here waiting when you come back. 

Friendship ...

This morning, as I left Mary and Lee's house, Lee said: "We are going to have to buy you are really good gift for all the help you've given us." To this, I replied: "No, just be my friend."

The last week or so, I've been helping off and on at Mary and Lee's house, getting their garage-now-master bedroom into order.  Last week I worked on mudding/texturizing the ceiling, then crown moulding, then last night it was door casings and trim.  Tonight -- likely baseboards, but who is to say what may come tonight.

It isn't particularly hard work -- but it is labor-intensive.  With Mary now 2 weeks, 1 day from baby arrival, she cannot help with the construction any more.  I volunteered to be Lee's assistant, and thus, after work, I change clothes from office worker to construction worker.  I feel kinda like Supergirl :)

I grew up this way -- with friends helping my parents, and my parents returning the favor.  I remember many a day/weekend/week spent by my parents helping with someone else's home project, only to receive that help in return when it was their turn.

I've never thought much about it, let alone thought about a gift for such actions.  Their friendship is a gift to me -- without them, I doubt I would have lasted a year down here.  This has been a hard place for me to live -- so far removed from friends and family.  I came down here knowing no one here, and I've made a few good friends -- Mary and Lee among them.

When I look back to this morning's comment by Lee -- I just shake my head.  Friendship is a give and take.  Sometimes you give, sometimes you take and sometimes it is a combination of both.  To have good friends, you must be a good friend.  I don't want to be any less, nor do I want less for myself. 

In closing -- thanks friends.  You are there for me through thick and thin.  I couldn't ask for better -- and I love all of you.

xoxoxoxx, Athena

New blog I'm following ....

http://moneyning.com/

In my continued quest to be financially "free" -- please enjoy.

Six Word Fridays: First

Our topic this week: FIRST. First try? First in space? Firstly…


...Thanks once again to Melissa for her ongoing inspiration ...
 
If at first you don't succeed
try try again, the saying goes.
That, perhaps, is an excellent thought.
My first marriage -- not a success.
First semester in college -- academic probation
First ride on a bike - CRASH
First dates after divorce -- spectacular failures
First outfit today -- ruined via canine
So I will try try again
Clothing changed -- stopped dating -- ride bike
And marriage? Why not?  First do-over :)
So I will try try again!
 
*****************
 
If it weren't for this exercise in creativity today, my mood may have been foul all day.  I really liked my first outfit today -- and I don't own a dog.  Thanks, neighbor, for letting him run off-leash in a leash area and for being unable to control your dog in the FIRST place ...  boooooooooooooooooooo

I'm hot (already)

Really, folks, my ancestry is a bunch of northern Europeans -- pale as milk.  My 'people' freckle at the word "sun" used in a sentence, burn to a color known as "fire-engine red" and cannot tolerate heat much above 75 degrees (F).

So here I am in Southwest Florida.

Yeah.

It is "unseasonably warm" right now, which translates into low 90s instead of upper 80s (yes, dear readers, a swing of approximately FIVE WHOLE DEGREES).  The humidity is high -- much like being covered in a sopping wet quilt.  I sweat before I get OUT of bed, even with the air conditioning on.

Yes, the AC is on.  Much to my shame.  I gave in yesterday.  It was too damn hot to breathe in my house without it.

For six months out of the year, Florida is a delightful place to live.  Warm temperatures, low humidity, few insects, copious amounts of sunshine.

The other six months? 

The reason why people leave this God-forsaken state.  90+ every day.  Humidity not lower than 90%.  Insects the size of small dogs.  Blinding sun followed by thunderstorms, followed by blinding sun again.

I am in the other six months now.  I wear 70 SPF every day.  Yes, EVERY DAY.  On the plus side of that 70 SPF every day?  My dermatologist -- yes, I have a dermatologist -- said the other day: "you aren't a native Floridian, are you?"  Translation: I don't look like shoe leather/alligator hide.

In two weeks I should know something.  Two Weeks. 

Life, updated.

The last few weeks have been up and down, like a seemingly endless rollercoaster of madness.  Work has been the cause of that (mostly) -- with endless infighting, 'he said, she said,' and even a side dose of governing board drama.  Yes, Athena is tired, so tired, of wondering what today's news will bring on the work front.  If today passes without a news truck, reporter or other public records request filed, it will be the first workday in many a week without such an event.

I also made a long-overdue decision to quit my alumnae association board post.  I simply cannot give the time required and ultimately I think that position is set up to fail.  I hope that the next person who takes it finds it more rewarding than I did, and not such a chore.

I'm still without word on graduate school.  I contacted UIC last week for an update, and I will hear something in the next two weeks they tell me.  I only hope it is good news.

Last week, Hoosier Guy and his two kiddos came down to southwest Florida for spring break.  They had a nice little hotel nearby and spent their days exploring southwest Florida while I met them for dinner and evening activities each night.  It was wonderful to hang out with them and get to know them more, together, as a family.  They are great kids.  Hoosier Guy is a good dad -- and he parents much like I would, iffen I had kids.  We had lots of fun and it was sad to let them go on Saturday morning.

Sunday afternoon I visited with KC, her baby and husband -- just hanging out at her house and relaxing.  I had lots of fun and enjoyed a lazy Sunday evening with friends.