This may be my last blog here for a while, or indefinitely. I am moving over to genealogydoctor.wordpress.com and hence, see this as mildly superfluous. Besides, it doesn't give me enough options although it's nice for plug and play publishing. We shall see whether I return. In the meantime, sit back, eat something that you like and try not to judge too harshly, friends. It's just me. Take me with pounds of salt.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Here We Go Again
I am looking at this move as bedrooms and "Rounds." Round One is basically going through everything. Packing, choosing whether to keep or remove, sorting my brains out in addition to removing stuff, and I feel a little bit proud that there are 13-15 boxes for the yard sale and 9 boxes of stuff to move. Considering that the boxes for the yard sale are really stuffed and the boxes for the move are not packed too heavily, I am really glad.
Current count is 7/9 rooms gone through, and I have 3 boxes of kitchen stuff so far. Having just tackled the all-purpose utili-drawer of gadgets, and having gone through the knives and spoons and such, and tupperware, or the wanna-be tupperware, I am really glad how it's going. There were 5 sets of measuring spoons in there, for instance. Goodness! I think that most of the people who have left never remembered about a lot of things that they were leaving behind, or else I just ended up with the dump-ed off ends. Although all of the other bedrooms are cleaned out, I am cleaning out the rest of the apartment minus the landlord's stuff that is randomly down here also. So that means that for the kitchen, it's been a "full sweep." I even organized my rolling Rubbermaid spice drawers today. I had so many spices that the friend who was here helping me organize it all left with a half-box of them, and I got down to no duplicates (excepting for almond oil and things that I KNOW that I would use) and I am out of onion powder. Never thought that would happen.
But yeah, SD and NK stopped by and while SD helped get through the first four or five rooms, NK helped me tackle the kitchen and should be coming by tomorrow morning. Will probably tackle the bathroom then, and (maybe) start on the bedroom. I expect the bedroom to be the absolute hardest. If everything else is done, then the whole project may not seem quite so over-whelming. As it is, NK helped me pare down the items by looking at a few at a time, and we went through them quickly.
Round 2 is what gets packed right before I leave, and the last details of cleaning and cleaning and...cleaning. I want to do a hard-core deep clean of this place so that the upstairs neighbor will be appeased. She's not menacing or whatnot, but I think that I will be leaving this place better than I found it if I have my druthers about me.
After finishing up Round 1 of the kitchen, NK and I had glorious salads- I figured out a way of making a really good raspberry balsamic vinaigrette from raspberry preserves (jam?), balsamic vinegar and some olive oil with kosher salt. Drizzled on top of a fabulous green leaf lettuce, red cabbage, red tomato, red bell pepper, carrot, sliced almond, celery, and chow mien noodle salad, along with some sort of tropical red punch thing, it totally hit the spot. I'm a fan of huge salads. They're veggies for the most part with either the addition or nuts or beans for the protein component usually occupied by meat, and SOOOOOOO good! Mm! You don't "drop" within an hour like with a fast food burger, and they don't tire you out afterwards. No siesta needed, yummy, and probably glycemically good for you, too. No sharp spikes in blood sugar or protein metabolism. I'm not diabetic, but both grandpas were, so I have to be careful anyway.
I can't help feeling accomplished today. Not done by any means, but thoroughly accomplished. Have tagged a ton of stuff, have sorted a whole lot, and the rest (should) be able to get done between tomorrow and Thursday, ready for getting over to the yard sale location for Friday. Also glad that I have clean clothes, that I was able to watch Auntie Mame with NK after finishing the kitchen, and that this move isn't killing me (knock on wood or other natural, porous surfaces.)
Somehow I thought that moving would be so sad. The saddest thing so far was opening up the one box that had been shut tight that held my family's documents and not remembering what was in there. It's my report cards, kid pictures, items from my father's life, pictures of my sister in school, things like that. There are even pictures from when my parents were at the regional Institute conference where they met. That made me rather teary. I'm the genealogist, and I'm the one that has to keep things up. Maybe other people do care about my existence, but normally a Mom or another previous relative would keep all of this stuff. My grandparents are all dead and my Mom as well. My father is not sentimental concerning documentation (pictures, other things like that). My sister cares but mainly if it's in front of her. Otherwise, not. It's me that has to prove my own existence and the family legacy. I'm the one that has to do it. No one else will in the end.
I'm the one that people ask if they want to know about the family history, when they do, and that's rare. It's something that most people I know don't care about at all, or they don't like it, or they think that someone else is doing it. Although incredibly frustrating, I've taken the stance that not everyone can do it all at once or by themselves, and when it's the right time for things to help as much as people are willing to learn. If they're not willing, NEVER to force it upon anyone. Help the most that you can, but not to overwhelm people if it's possible.
So that was the saddest thing, knowing that there isn't anyone else to care about it all. However, I do care and I hope that that counts for something. So, the front room, pantry, L's room, laundry room, R's room, and T's rooms are done. Kitchen is about as done as it can get with a week to go before pack-up, but three days before the Great and Terrible Yard Sale.
However, good thing was that as I advertised on FB, craigslist, and KSL, I got the first bite of someone who is interested in buying the books and CDs. I just can't call her back until I get them sorted out. That would be in-bedroom stuff.
Also got a visit from EC, and her daughter, B. It's been a long time since I've seen her, and she seems happy to be a Mom. Good for her. So far the move has been good. Nearly enjoyable, and although I'm not ready to take on the world, it's getting a whole lot easier right now. I hope that I can make it to Friday, and then somehow figure out Wed.
Best for a late night,
The Genealogy Doctor
PS. Lately, my jokes seem to all concern alcohol. Although I've never had the stuff, I think that I need to curb it so it's not going through my head in influential matters.
Also, I had a dream last night where I could remember what I'd already lived, and then after the move in Chicago, but I couldn't remember what actually happened in the move. My memory was literally black-blank about it. Odd. Also other thoughts of a personal nature.
Current count is 7/9 rooms gone through, and I have 3 boxes of kitchen stuff so far. Having just tackled the all-purpose utili-drawer of gadgets, and having gone through the knives and spoons and such, and tupperware, or the wanna-be tupperware, I am really glad how it's going. There were 5 sets of measuring spoons in there, for instance. Goodness! I think that most of the people who have left never remembered about a lot of things that they were leaving behind, or else I just ended up with the dump-ed off ends. Although all of the other bedrooms are cleaned out, I am cleaning out the rest of the apartment minus the landlord's stuff that is randomly down here also. So that means that for the kitchen, it's been a "full sweep." I even organized my rolling Rubbermaid spice drawers today. I had so many spices that the friend who was here helping me organize it all left with a half-box of them, and I got down to no duplicates (excepting for almond oil and things that I KNOW that I would use) and I am out of onion powder. Never thought that would happen.
But yeah, SD and NK stopped by and while SD helped get through the first four or five rooms, NK helped me tackle the kitchen and should be coming by tomorrow morning. Will probably tackle the bathroom then, and (maybe) start on the bedroom. I expect the bedroom to be the absolute hardest. If everything else is done, then the whole project may not seem quite so over-whelming. As it is, NK helped me pare down the items by looking at a few at a time, and we went through them quickly.
Round 2 is what gets packed right before I leave, and the last details of cleaning and cleaning and...cleaning. I want to do a hard-core deep clean of this place so that the upstairs neighbor will be appeased. She's not menacing or whatnot, but I think that I will be leaving this place better than I found it if I have my druthers about me.
After finishing up Round 1 of the kitchen, NK and I had glorious salads- I figured out a way of making a really good raspberry balsamic vinaigrette from raspberry preserves (jam?), balsamic vinegar and some olive oil with kosher salt. Drizzled on top of a fabulous green leaf lettuce, red cabbage, red tomato, red bell pepper, carrot, sliced almond, celery, and chow mien noodle salad, along with some sort of tropical red punch thing, it totally hit the spot. I'm a fan of huge salads. They're veggies for the most part with either the addition or nuts or beans for the protein component usually occupied by meat, and SOOOOOOO good! Mm! You don't "drop" within an hour like with a fast food burger, and they don't tire you out afterwards. No siesta needed, yummy, and probably glycemically good for you, too. No sharp spikes in blood sugar or protein metabolism. I'm not diabetic, but both grandpas were, so I have to be careful anyway.
I can't help feeling accomplished today. Not done by any means, but thoroughly accomplished. Have tagged a ton of stuff, have sorted a whole lot, and the rest (should) be able to get done between tomorrow and Thursday, ready for getting over to the yard sale location for Friday. Also glad that I have clean clothes, that I was able to watch Auntie Mame with NK after finishing the kitchen, and that this move isn't killing me (knock on wood or other natural, porous surfaces.)
Somehow I thought that moving would be so sad. The saddest thing so far was opening up the one box that had been shut tight that held my family's documents and not remembering what was in there. It's my report cards, kid pictures, items from my father's life, pictures of my sister in school, things like that. There are even pictures from when my parents were at the regional Institute conference where they met. That made me rather teary. I'm the genealogist, and I'm the one that has to keep things up. Maybe other people do care about my existence, but normally a Mom or another previous relative would keep all of this stuff. My grandparents are all dead and my Mom as well. My father is not sentimental concerning documentation (pictures, other things like that). My sister cares but mainly if it's in front of her. Otherwise, not. It's me that has to prove my own existence and the family legacy. I'm the one that has to do it. No one else will in the end.
I'm the one that people ask if they want to know about the family history, when they do, and that's rare. It's something that most people I know don't care about at all, or they don't like it, or they think that someone else is doing it. Although incredibly frustrating, I've taken the stance that not everyone can do it all at once or by themselves, and when it's the right time for things to help as much as people are willing to learn. If they're not willing, NEVER to force it upon anyone. Help the most that you can, but not to overwhelm people if it's possible.
So that was the saddest thing, knowing that there isn't anyone else to care about it all. However, I do care and I hope that that counts for something. So, the front room, pantry, L's room, laundry room, R's room, and T's rooms are done. Kitchen is about as done as it can get with a week to go before pack-up, but three days before the Great and Terrible Yard Sale.
However, good thing was that as I advertised on FB, craigslist, and KSL, I got the first bite of someone who is interested in buying the books and CDs. I just can't call her back until I get them sorted out. That would be in-bedroom stuff.
Also got a visit from EC, and her daughter, B. It's been a long time since I've seen her, and she seems happy to be a Mom. Good for her. So far the move has been good. Nearly enjoyable, and although I'm not ready to take on the world, it's getting a whole lot easier right now. I hope that I can make it to Friday, and then somehow figure out Wed.
Best for a late night,
The Genealogy Doctor
PS. Lately, my jokes seem to all concern alcohol. Although I've never had the stuff, I think that I need to curb it so it's not going through my head in influential matters.
Also, I had a dream last night where I could remember what I'd already lived, and then after the move in Chicago, but I couldn't remember what actually happened in the move. My memory was literally black-blank about it. Odd. Also other thoughts of a personal nature.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Some Form of Happiness
It's been the strangest day in a long while. Got up, scrips and PMG, thank heavens, and then got on my normal email and FB. So far, not horrible, but I also woke up having sent my original apology at 1 AM. Wasn't written badly for having been written at 1 AM, and I was originally nervous about the reply. Considering things, I think that everything will work out. I further wrote a deeply groveling apology after the reply, which may have been overkill, but considering things, I thought that it was fair for the situation.
But I was still stressed, and the next thing you know, another crew gal friend of mine, MS, called me with the message that's in the last blog. She may as well be another sister for me in many ways, although she's an only child. I actually get along really well with only children. Well, I needed it. It deflated me a lot, and then I needed to get over to the library and finish scanning for my top client. Considering the move, I have scanned all of their documents (as far as I know, minus one book.) Okay, I should probably scan that book. I don't think that it has anything important now, but that means nothing about later. Accessibility is the issue here.
I checked how many gigs of memory were involved in the scanned documents, and um, Wow- 10 Gigs! I need to burn this info onto maybe 3 DVDs or so for them. Today I scanned some documents that were of letters that were copied by hand onto a scrapbook in addition to a bunch of old articles glued into this book. Scanners save my life. Considering that the client recently lost their hard drive, I think that it's good to have off-site back ups in addition to on-site. And when I give them back their source documents before I leave, I will also be giving them the DVDs and a copy of their file. It's really unfortunate about their drive, but I hope that there wasn't anything irreplaceable.
So I passed on the info about Comms to the new chair, and that seemed to work out. From there, finished scanning the docs (have one book left) and then met up with SD for frozen yogurt at the Spoon It Up place. It's like a local baby Farr's. GOOD flavors. Amazing mango with fruit, raspberries, and New York style Praline happiness. I'm going to miss chilling with SD. My life in Chicago is not yet materializing, but I have only driven through it once, well, twice, and flown in/through it once.
After this, just chilled at home for a few minutes and had the oddest feeling to bring my knitting to FHE. So, I did. No worries. I've done it before and it's been a while. I was sitting there and working on the fingerless gloves for the FB "Pay it Forward" craft thing, and yard sale friend came in and chose his seat nearby. He seemed either impressed or just... I dunno. Consider it trivia, perhaps, but at one point when I was working on a glove, and there was a laptop passed over it. I thought it was nice of him that I didn't have to put down my work. That's all.
Then we had this fun lesson on Italian, and it included how to make Carbonara. That was cool. And the guy who was teaching was seriously entertaining. After that was done, went to the track and did the half hour walk. Most recent former roommate would be proud. I went, did the recommended half hour, stretched and felt surprisingly good. Even did some driving after because I didn't want to go home yet, but there was no where to go, so ...went home and now have been blogging, watched the relatively insipid show, Josie and the Pussycats. Just a resume thing for a lot of talent that went on to other things, and it worked out. Here's to American Pickers and Pawn Stars. Thank you!
Tomorrow I will be working on packing and sorting and labeling and green dotting until I drop, and then some. Here's to helpers. May they all be crowned with laurels and medals, I hope. :)
Till then, I remain
The Genealogy Doctor
But I was still stressed, and the next thing you know, another crew gal friend of mine, MS, called me with the message that's in the last blog. She may as well be another sister for me in many ways, although she's an only child. I actually get along really well with only children. Well, I needed it. It deflated me a lot, and then I needed to get over to the library and finish scanning for my top client. Considering the move, I have scanned all of their documents (as far as I know, minus one book.) Okay, I should probably scan that book. I don't think that it has anything important now, but that means nothing about later. Accessibility is the issue here.
I checked how many gigs of memory were involved in the scanned documents, and um, Wow- 10 Gigs! I need to burn this info onto maybe 3 DVDs or so for them. Today I scanned some documents that were of letters that were copied by hand onto a scrapbook in addition to a bunch of old articles glued into this book. Scanners save my life. Considering that the client recently lost their hard drive, I think that it's good to have off-site back ups in addition to on-site. And when I give them back their source documents before I leave, I will also be giving them the DVDs and a copy of their file. It's really unfortunate about their drive, but I hope that there wasn't anything irreplaceable.
So I passed on the info about Comms to the new chair, and that seemed to work out. From there, finished scanning the docs (have one book left) and then met up with SD for frozen yogurt at the Spoon It Up place. It's like a local baby Farr's. GOOD flavors. Amazing mango with fruit, raspberries, and New York style Praline happiness. I'm going to miss chilling with SD. My life in Chicago is not yet materializing, but I have only driven through it once, well, twice, and flown in/through it once.
After this, just chilled at home for a few minutes and had the oddest feeling to bring my knitting to FHE. So, I did. No worries. I've done it before and it's been a while. I was sitting there and working on the fingerless gloves for the FB "Pay it Forward" craft thing, and yard sale friend came in and chose his seat nearby. He seemed either impressed or just... I dunno. Consider it trivia, perhaps, but at one point when I was working on a glove, and there was a laptop passed over it. I thought it was nice of him that I didn't have to put down my work. That's all.
Then we had this fun lesson on Italian, and it included how to make Carbonara. That was cool. And the guy who was teaching was seriously entertaining. After that was done, went to the track and did the half hour walk. Most recent former roommate would be proud. I went, did the recommended half hour, stretched and felt surprisingly good. Even did some driving after because I didn't want to go home yet, but there was no where to go, so ...went home and now have been blogging, watched the relatively insipid show, Josie and the Pussycats. Just a resume thing for a lot of talent that went on to other things, and it worked out. Here's to American Pickers and Pawn Stars. Thank you!
Tomorrow I will be working on packing and sorting and labeling and green dotting until I drop, and then some. Here's to helpers. May they all be crowned with laurels and medals, I hope. :)
Till then, I remain
The Genealogy Doctor
Monday, June 27, 2011
Learning A New Language
Yesterday felt shot out of a cannon, so to speak, and by the end of the day, watching the end of Pirates 3 with a friend, was literally shot out of a cannon. So what happened?
Well, went to bed late. Follow that up by waking up ten-fifteen minutes before my first meeting, and I was just grateful that my clothes were ready and I'd taken a shower right before my temple shift. I did make the meeting, however. That may have been where things went wrong or crazy. Maybe not, though. At the meeting, I was trying to simply let people know about the impending yard sale at the end of the week. It was planned for a certain location and time, and the next thing you know, it's as if everyone else is getting into it and re-planning the thing. I was highly concerned, especially since they acted like there had been no planning done. This wasn't really a ward council matter other than for calendaring. It wasn't meant to be a ward thing, and the more it was talked about the more concerned that I became and I kept asking if the people had talked about it to my yard sale partner and I could feel it becoming an escalated event instead of just a simple yard sale.
Ended up making an announcement where I didn't have a chance to talk to the other person in question in charge of the yard sale, and have been feeling dumb about it ever since. The guy whose house it will be at is one of the smartest, most competent people that I've ever met. He's a self-made guy and so intelligent it's intimidating yet exhilarating at the same time. A little competitive, you have to have your stuff together or else ... he seems a little hard to please, but maybe that's just me. I always feel like he's looking for a way to catch me up on something, but not for bad reasons, per se. He's got just his stuff together, and doing something like that without asking him, and without coordinating was bad. It's been a rule in my family to always consult the other people in question before planning something or committing to anything, so ...this wasn't just "me"-bad. This felt like something out of China where I was dishonoring my heritage in addition to just dishonoring myself. erg. Very bad juju!
So, mess occurred and I have tried to apologize and currently feel utterly dumb. It won't be the first time or last time for feeling dumb, but it is what it is and I can do very little about it further other than trying to get things back to how they were before the minor fiasco.
Otherwise, there was a BBQ at this guy's house, too, and the set up was a bit strange, but in the end it worked out. Later that night was a games night, and after one rather horrible move I ended up winning a game, but I left feeling a little bit unsatisfied and wondered why I had stayed there for three hours. Didn't make any sense compared to the investment of going somewhere other than my house. However, during "down" time, I got more than an inch done on the fingerless gloves. Yeah, I had a feeling to bring my knitting, even. That doesn't happen often anymore. Not dogging on the idea and on the effort at all. Just... I kept thinking that had we started off Games Night with a prayer, it would have felt much more satisfactory. As it was, it felt hollow.
But, came home and my newly moved in across the street neighbor who's a friend of mine (NK) was just coming home as well and she came over to see the end of Pirates. I'm going to miss her. She's known me through both of my off-campus post-mission wards, and she's just a good person overall. She DOESN'T JUDGE! That is so important for me right now. I'm kind of fantastic at judging myself harshly, and she just accepts me as I am with gentle leading in positive directions instead of blunt force trauma to my psyche. She will be helping to pack and sort me out along with some others on Tuesday.
I consider her "crew." Crew are people who accept you as you are, and want the best for you, but let you have your agency no matter how silly or dumb you get. They also are available to help with projects and events, such as moving, and are there for you when the chips go down, so to speak. Crew are your best friends, the people who aren't your friends when it's simply convenient for them but when you need it. The term comes from a cross between baby-gangs in L.A. and rowing crews where you have to stroke together or you go no where. So yeah, she's crew, and I'm grateful that she's around. I was honestly praying for someone like her to help me move since she originally helped me move into this place a little more than three years ago. And now, with 9 days left, and severe crunch mode where I'm worrying some friends over how stressed I've been, she is truly a help versus a hindrance to the efforts.
The reason for the title of this blog is that I'm stressed out as if I was learning a new language. Same fear, same "I have no idea what I'm doing" and as has been my current experience with learning German, no teacher, all me. So yeah, I'm trying to calm down but we shall see how it goes. Off to scanning.
If anyone is worried, I am okay. God, through an old friend told me to "quit stressing; things will work out as they need to; you're going where you're supposed to." I should be good at faith, and sometimes better than others, but my last time moving was when I cleaned out the house to get back to BYU, and then after that to leave a ward where I had over-stayed my welcome. All of my memories of moving tend to be very sad at the outset, and then they get better once I enter the new scene. It's like death. You leave one state, and then enter a different one where hopefully the circumstances are a little better.
Also have to somehow finish and get copied the ward newsletter. Heaven help me, please? To that the quote from 1776, Benjamin Franklin, "He will, John. He will." I am so John Adams mixed with Merrweather (from Sleeping Beauty) meets Glimmer from Shee-Ra. Yeah, I'm strange. I'm over it. :)
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Loaded Potatoes, Metaphorically-Speaking
I thought that today would be strange. I was right. Thought that various things would happen in a different time order than they ended up happening. Maybe that's normal for most people, but not as likely for me. Thought that I was going to watch Pirates 2 and 3 with a friend that hasn't yet seen them. Well, most of Pirates 2 last night...I feel asleep, but I've seen them at least six times, so I didn't miss anything. The fingerless gloves are getting a good working-on lately, and then ... well, saw part of Pirates 3 when said friend was available, and got ready for the temple. It was so weird with it being my last shift ever at Provo. Maybe ever. I don't know. But I did my normal schedule, and just... it felt like a normal night and such, but I personally felt like my world was changing dramatically. My shift has people on it that have been the closest that I've had to family for the past 3 2/3 years. Leaving them behind is harder than leaving in general. Sure, I've had times when I didn't want to spend Saturday night doing a particular thing, but things have always worked out and it's been good. I have the email addresses for these ladies and I am going to miss them so much. But it is time for me to move on. One of my temple shift friends, who's become like an adopted Mom has consented to help drive out with me.
I'm nervous about costs, but something has to work out. Still not really sure. I wanted to use this year to save for the move, and that simply did not happen despite best efforts. Erg. We'll see how I can afford any of this. But, yeah- at one point during the night I could see myself really being IN Chicago, and there was this lustrous light that I felt and this tremendous joy and - there's nothing BAD about the move outside of personal penury and not knowing enough. I have no idea how, per se, but it has to work out. Every time I turn around and focus attention on it, I feel as if there is a beacon there for me. No idea what or whom or how or anything, but every time, it's as if there is some bright, sparkling thing and I have to go there. I'm not exactly "pulled" there, but I want to go where I feel the bright light and happiness. I mean, who wouldn't? I have had more confirmations of Chicago than I can count, and I'm just nervous in getting there and having no idea what I'm doing once I'm out there. Normally I have a job or something set up. I technically have my business, even though it's shaky at best. But still, my security is in the Rock of the gospel. That is what matters.
I'm nervous about costs, but something has to work out. Still not really sure. I wanted to use this year to save for the move, and that simply did not happen despite best efforts. Erg. We'll see how I can afford any of this. But, yeah- at one point during the night I could see myself really being IN Chicago, and there was this lustrous light that I felt and this tremendous joy and - there's nothing BAD about the move outside of personal penury and not knowing enough. I have no idea how, per se, but it has to work out. Every time I turn around and focus attention on it, I feel as if there is a beacon there for me. No idea what or whom or how or anything, but every time, it's as if there is some bright, sparkling thing and I have to go there. I'm not exactly "pulled" there, but I want to go where I feel the bright light and happiness. I mean, who wouldn't? I have had more confirmations of Chicago than I can count, and I'm just nervous in getting there and having no idea what I'm doing once I'm out there. Normally I have a job or something set up. I technically have my business, even though it's shaky at best. But still, my security is in the Rock of the gospel. That is what matters.
Friday, June 24, 2011
Changing it Up
So a lot of my blogs over the past short while of this thing have been about things that are pretty normal I think. I want to change this just a little bit. In going to Chicago I have the chance to change my personality, and to add a cheerful encounter to the people that I meet. That said, when I was an undergrad, did something called the "Hello experiment" my second semester of my freshman year. I simply said hello to the people that I knew. Not a huge thing at all, but the declaration and acknowledgement of existence made things better, even if for only a few seconds. I felt better, they did, too, and it was good.
These days I've been mildly panicking over trying to get finished with packing to go off to the Windy City, and there has been more stress due to unfortunate controlling tendencies of a particular upstairs neighbor. That said, I want to focus this blog on good stuff. I'm not ignoring bad things, because face it, they happen, and that's life. But dwelling on such doesn't bring happiness to anyone. Yes, there are times when we get stuck on them when things don't make sense and we ask for help that only comes from competent professionals. Or from people who have gifts in the sense of competent professionals and who are kind-hearted and real friends. But even with the bad things comes GOOD!
Despite death, mayhem, and destruction on all sides, there's no reason to stay down forever. I had my five years of mourning. When my grandfather died, I felt like it completed that phase of my life. At that point, I had seven deaths in six years. Probably not as much as for other people, especially where natural disasters have claimed thousands, but for a thinking suburbanite who wasn't used to death before, it completely changed that portion of my life. I became the "adult" and have subsequently had a hard time taking other people's advice sometimes. I have had to look out for myself since 2005. No safety net. Independence is something that I've worked hard for, but I have been learning to listen more. It takes me longer to make decisions since I think of how it will affect me and others. I am more careful by nature, but the care-free attitude that used to be there is gone. All the same, I've learned that happiness does not come from an absence of responsibility but being willing and doing something with it.
So, the blog will try to reflect a less-preachy, more positive aspect of life. I hope that someone out there gets a chance to look over their day and remember that smiling is healthy, and maybe it will make you feel better, too. I used to think that being the serious, semi-negative personality meant that I was an erudite person. Not really. That was a misnomer, and perhaps a mistake. I have since learned that being nice is a lot more important and what you are does radiate and reflect around you. I am stressed about moving, but according to my high school psychology class, death, moving, and severe physical illness are the biggest stressors in life. So, a part of me says "Guess what? It's okay that I'm stressed out!" Another part of me says, "You know what? Despite or in-part because of the stress, I'm doing okay. I function better when there is something to be responsible for than nothing. I do well when I am given a chance to get away from things, but I think that vacations are just changing up scenery. A change from the norm is perhaps good sometimes, but it's not like my whole life changes in that time. Movies are really fictional in that respect.
From my time in the MTC, I had a teacher who asked me to write sweet and sour lists daily. After a while, it was easier to write sweet lists. I think that if late night talk show hosts can do it, I can, too.
The Double-Masters Student Top 10 Sweet/Sour List (not in any particular order. Just a list.)
Sweet/Sour
1. Got to watch the 25th Anniversary of Les Mis with friends on Wednesday
2. Got told off by a friend. May have been accidental or not, but I have learned that swallowing and applying metaphorical Pepto Bismol to such things makes life better for all involved.
3. Upstairs neighbor decided to do her old trick of trying to show the apartment without any advanced warning.
4. Finished a massive bowl of potato salad.
5. Will be going to see the Mid-Season Ender for Dr. Who at a friend's house tonight.
6. BBQ tonight where the potato salad will be consumed.
7. Have decided to work hard to get to bed before 1.
8. Tomorrow is my last temple shift. Double-edged sword, but I am glad that I can do this.
9. Highly possible yard sale next Saturday that will help remove extra items that I don't want/need.
10. Paid auto insurance the other day, and was able to get the sets of double-pointed needles, size 6 needed for current fingerless gloves with mitten flap and Legend of Zelda life-force emblem on left hand. Will see how this goes. Still trying to decide whether to double-stitch or intarsia the thing. Probably duplicate stitch so that I can finish them faster without needing to worry about intarsia.
These days I've been mildly panicking over trying to get finished with packing to go off to the Windy City, and there has been more stress due to unfortunate controlling tendencies of a particular upstairs neighbor. That said, I want to focus this blog on good stuff. I'm not ignoring bad things, because face it, they happen, and that's life. But dwelling on such doesn't bring happiness to anyone. Yes, there are times when we get stuck on them when things don't make sense and we ask for help that only comes from competent professionals. Or from people who have gifts in the sense of competent professionals and who are kind-hearted and real friends. But even with the bad things comes GOOD!
Despite death, mayhem, and destruction on all sides, there's no reason to stay down forever. I had my five years of mourning. When my grandfather died, I felt like it completed that phase of my life. At that point, I had seven deaths in six years. Probably not as much as for other people, especially where natural disasters have claimed thousands, but for a thinking suburbanite who wasn't used to death before, it completely changed that portion of my life. I became the "adult" and have subsequently had a hard time taking other people's advice sometimes. I have had to look out for myself since 2005. No safety net. Independence is something that I've worked hard for, but I have been learning to listen more. It takes me longer to make decisions since I think of how it will affect me and others. I am more careful by nature, but the care-free attitude that used to be there is gone. All the same, I've learned that happiness does not come from an absence of responsibility but being willing and doing something with it.
So, the blog will try to reflect a less-preachy, more positive aspect of life. I hope that someone out there gets a chance to look over their day and remember that smiling is healthy, and maybe it will make you feel better, too. I used to think that being the serious, semi-negative personality meant that I was an erudite person. Not really. That was a misnomer, and perhaps a mistake. I have since learned that being nice is a lot more important and what you are does radiate and reflect around you. I am stressed about moving, but according to my high school psychology class, death, moving, and severe physical illness are the biggest stressors in life. So, a part of me says "Guess what? It's okay that I'm stressed out!" Another part of me says, "You know what? Despite or in-part because of the stress, I'm doing okay. I function better when there is something to be responsible for than nothing. I do well when I am given a chance to get away from things, but I think that vacations are just changing up scenery. A change from the norm is perhaps good sometimes, but it's not like my whole life changes in that time. Movies are really fictional in that respect.
From my time in the MTC, I had a teacher who asked me to write sweet and sour lists daily. After a while, it was easier to write sweet lists. I think that if late night talk show hosts can do it, I can, too.
The Double-Masters Student Top 10 Sweet/Sour List (not in any particular order. Just a list.)
Sweet/Sour
1. Got to watch the 25th Anniversary of Les Mis with friends on Wednesday
2. Got told off by a friend. May have been accidental or not, but I have learned that swallowing and applying metaphorical Pepto Bismol to such things makes life better for all involved.
3. Upstairs neighbor decided to do her old trick of trying to show the apartment without any advanced warning.
4. Finished a massive bowl of potato salad.
5. Will be going to see the Mid-Season Ender for Dr. Who at a friend's house tonight.
6. BBQ tonight where the potato salad will be consumed.
7. Have decided to work hard to get to bed before 1.
8. Tomorrow is my last temple shift. Double-edged sword, but I am glad that I can do this.
9. Highly possible yard sale next Saturday that will help remove extra items that I don't want/need.
10. Paid auto insurance the other day, and was able to get the sets of double-pointed needles, size 6 needed for current fingerless gloves with mitten flap and Legend of Zelda life-force emblem on left hand. Will see how this goes. Still trying to decide whether to double-stitch or intarsia the thing. Probably duplicate stitch so that I can finish them faster without needing to worry about intarsia.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Happiness Enfolding
Chicago is a dreamland. It's like Disneyland mixed with Colonial Williamsburg wrapped up with bow tie and presented with a side order of Dr. Who meets Gregory Peck. Yeah, it's been a VERY good day. After the normal morning routine, I got an emailed reply from the admissions counselor at Dominican saying that I GOT IN (this is after feeling like I should send them an email asking about my status)- I got accepted last year, but I was trying to apply for this fall. Well, um, according to her I'm in and she's doing something about my status so that I can register. I am already going full time at Loyola, and for right now, I think that one class at Dominican may be all that I can take. It really depends upon the class schedule. That's the one thing that I'm worried about. I only want to go part-time at Dominican due to the full-time Loyola schedule, but it's really tbd about how things are going to go.
But still...here I've been minding my own business, so to speak, and then BAM! You're in, congrats, and let's get things going. Had I re-applied during my original intention time, when I first got out there, that could have been seriously disastrous. At least, that kind of potential. But now, ...HOW I am going to do this, I have no idea. Truly. I'm just HAPPY! I may not be bounding off the walls because I don't really do that all that often, but today at the knitting shop I was going crazy! Just HAPPY and tickled to pieces and totally doing beautifully.
But still...here I've been minding my own business, so to speak, and then BAM! You're in, congrats, and let's get things going. Had I re-applied during my original intention time, when I first got out there, that could have been seriously disastrous. At least, that kind of potential. But now, ...HOW I am going to do this, I have no idea. Truly. I'm just HAPPY! I may not be bounding off the walls because I don't really do that all that often, but today at the knitting shop I was going crazy! Just HAPPY and tickled to pieces and totally doing beautifully.
Language
Today was not my best day for bad language. There are metaphors about swearing like sailors, etc., and while my father's side has the sailors, they don't have the language problems. I love my Mom and Grandma tremendously, and in this case they were more often than not under severe stress when it happened. However, language is becoming an unfortunate crux for me. Not just in the use of bad language, which is unfortunately on the "up" but I'm noticing that I need to not just get rid of that but also get rid of my rather severe slang tendencies. I don't think of professionals and graduate students as using slang. Even less common for just people of good breeding to do so. I am the kind of person that wants to be at home nearly anywhere, but I think that might take more acting skills than I have. I see Sweet Home Alabama and I want a down-home feel to my life, but mix it with the posh, New Yorker. Or for pity's sake, get me in the middle of the suburbs and I'm fine, too. I'm just not a hipster and don't want to be. I can shop at Walmart, and big box retailers at the same time that I'm trying to save and resuscitate downtown commercial spaces and Mom and Pop stores that have been around forever.
None of this needs unfortunate language. I'm open about it because I want to change it, and maybe someone else wants to change their thinking patterns, too. I wonder where we get some of what we use in normal speech. When I was a kid, I used baby talk, and it made people happy. Then I was supposed to get rid of it, and my Mom would fight for me to enunciate clearly. I was always afraid that my teeth weren't pretty enough to do that, and so I didn't. I've heard that native Japanese people are the same way in that respect, but I'm not sure. I don't smile that much for similar reasons.
My voice automatically plunges to a quiet 12" or less when I don't think to speak up. My mother always said, "Slow down, speak up." Well, the mantra is in my head, but it doesn't get me to where I actually do those things that well. It's really hard. Part of me wishes that I'd had speech training when I was a kid. I was in choir forever and now I have a really decent voice, but speaking, Heaven help me! Part of why I don't like phones even though I'm good at them. Another reason to excel as much as possible at writing. Remove anything fake, keep the conversation flowing, and just be. Write because you want to read it? That would be exquisite, but I'm not sure whether I want to read my own story. Lots of mistakes, near misses, and shaves close enough to burn.
I need to stop writing right now before I get that thing where your arms can't handle it since you type a lot. Can't remember the condition's name, but, good night!
The Genealogy Doctor
None of this needs unfortunate language. I'm open about it because I want to change it, and maybe someone else wants to change their thinking patterns, too. I wonder where we get some of what we use in normal speech. When I was a kid, I used baby talk, and it made people happy. Then I was supposed to get rid of it, and my Mom would fight for me to enunciate clearly. I was always afraid that my teeth weren't pretty enough to do that, and so I didn't. I've heard that native Japanese people are the same way in that respect, but I'm not sure. I don't smile that much for similar reasons.
My voice automatically plunges to a quiet 12" or less when I don't think to speak up. My mother always said, "Slow down, speak up." Well, the mantra is in my head, but it doesn't get me to where I actually do those things that well. It's really hard. Part of me wishes that I'd had speech training when I was a kid. I was in choir forever and now I have a really decent voice, but speaking, Heaven help me! Part of why I don't like phones even though I'm good at them. Another reason to excel as much as possible at writing. Remove anything fake, keep the conversation flowing, and just be. Write because you want to read it? That would be exquisite, but I'm not sure whether I want to read my own story. Lots of mistakes, near misses, and shaves close enough to burn.
I need to stop writing right now before I get that thing where your arms can't handle it since you type a lot. Can't remember the condition's name, but, good night!
The Genealogy Doctor
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Yesterday...
I have decided that the Time Traveler's Wife, while having good basic plot could have cut out at least 50 pages by removing the sex and the excess language. That's what I get for wanting to finish the book and see how it ends. I finished it and then proceeded to want to clean my brain with lemon juice and baking soda. I have now asked friends for clean book recommendations, and have decided to be very careful about the books that I read for the future. Further, I could almost tell what the author's sexual preferences and academia/intelligensia preferences were by reading the book, and I did not like any of it. One more reason for me to write my own book. Writing a book that maybe I would want to read, no sex, no drugs, no drinking, as few swear words as possible, and have it be real.
Also did much cleaning and will need to do more, but not right now. Friend, SD, came by and I looked up her genealogy while we were watching Tenth Kingdom. She's related to a bunch of Nauvoo-Utah pioneers and had no idea. Kinda cool! card games night went well, food was good, all cookies disappeared. Put more stuff in the yard sale area of the spare room. That pile keeps getting bigger, and I haven't even begun to really get rid of stuff. Oh boy! We'll see.
The Genealogy Doctor
Also did much cleaning and will need to do more, but not right now. Friend, SD, came by and I looked up her genealogy while we were watching Tenth Kingdom. She's related to a bunch of Nauvoo-Utah pioneers and had no idea. Kinda cool! card games night went well, food was good, all cookies disappeared. Put more stuff in the yard sale area of the spare room. That pile keeps getting bigger, and I haven't even begun to really get rid of stuff. Oh boy! We'll see.
The Genealogy Doctor
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Getting More Organized
I spent all night last night until 8 reading The Time Traveler's Wife, and then some of today reading it as well. Honestly, don't read it. I probably shouldn't have. It has a lot of cursing and a lot of semi-graphic sex scenes in it.
I want to find out how it ends. Probably should just have watched the movie. That, at least is PG-13. I tried to help that girl today with family history again, but I was not on my game. She's going back to New Jersey tomorrow, and I felt badly. Sticking that much crud into my head didn't help anything. I think that I will need a serious detox after this.
Tonight after walking laps, roomie and I watched the Office and then Scrubs. Honestly, I've decided that Scrubs is 90% sexual innuendo. I was thinking, "Is the whole world so obsessed with sex?" I mean, it seems like it. I'm a virgin, and although I have done some kissing, I haven't done a lot of further things. What can I say? I'm trying to be good, and have held as fast as possible to this for a long time. I've had opportunities to do these things, but just because an opportunity for temptation presents itself doesn't mean that I need to do it.
I was listening to Billy Joel's "Only the Good Die Young" for a few seconds on the radio, and while it has a super-catchy beat, and it's a fun-seeming song, the message is anything but that. I was thinking the other day in the shower that there are psychologists or pop-psychologists that say that good girls are attracted to bad boys. In my case, it's been the opposite. Men who started out with good character, and could have been magnificent, and yet they chose against it in the end. I met a couple of guys like this when I was much younger. Amazing, brilliant men with whom we'd been flirting for more than a year. They both finally got the guts to ask me out after I was done with the situations where we were around each other on a regular basis. Who they were then versus who they became years later (thanks FB for the updates?) hurts. Both of them try to be good in their own sphere, and I applaud that merit. It came down to the Church (no sex before marriage, alcohol, and other standards), and the Church won. Who would want me sans my basic moral fiber and personality? 90% of my life is tied up in the Church, and it has the potential of making me truly who I want to be. I can't give that up, and I honestly shouldn't have to worry about that. It's part of me. I'm all about lifting up the other partner, but not at the expense of my morals or testimony.
One of my favorite quotes from Eat, Pray, Love (the movie- Yes, I read the book beforehand) is "You don't need a man, Liz. You need a champion!" I love the look that Julia Roberts gives to the Brazilian when he says this. Any woman loves a man who sees and comments on her goodness but in a beautifully flirtatious way, with no overt suggestive basis. I need a man who is tempered by his circumstances and yet still have passion for life. Although I may be quiet (not sure how I come off to people, honestly), I am fiery. I like to "blame" this on my Scottish background, but it's mainly my Mom.
Once in Institute a few years ago, the teachers asked for the whole "traits of the opposite companion" lists that they tend to do. I said, "Spunky!" and the whole room turned around and stared at me. I explained that I'm a fiery person, and I want a person who can keep up with me. The guys started grinning and the teacher got a grin, too. I'm not sure if they knew what to do with me, but it didn't matter. They had already listed various traits of kindness, gentility, etc., and those are good and necessary, but I need a guy who's got some umph! to him. Some gusto, joie de vivre, ganas, fortitude, and basic spunk. I probably have enough for a couple of people, but I want a man with whom I can be confident, but not fake. Someone with whom I don't necessarily compete, or better yet who understands that my competitive streak is only there due to upbringing and isn't something that I want to practice. I like Sim City classic because it's a one-player game and you try to build versus destroying things. I love to create. I hate to destroy. Maybe such a man doesn't exist. A guy who listens and who is kind when he needs to be, but who can be honest and tell me when I'm being dumb about something, but hopefully in a nice way. No, I'm not a lesbian, and I'm not looking for the "sensitive" type. I just want a guy who gets me and can accept me as I am. That's going to be tough.
Even saying all of this, I have run across guys who were sensitive, kind, thoughtful, etc. and I honestly did love them. At the same time, though, they weren't the right guy. Just weren't. One case that I can think of, the guy was amazing. I almost married him, but he called me up crying and told me that he had prayed and felt that God told him that there was someone else out there for me. I was stunned since I didn't realize that was his direct intention. He wasn't a member of the Church, but he knew that I was bound and determined to marry in the temple, and I wasn't about the marry a guy who joined the Church just for me. He knew all of that and was still highly considering the whole thing, enough to ask God about it. I think that it all hit me a few days later when I just started crying uncontrollably for at least a half hour and had no idea at the time why. Here's to shock.
The most recent guy valued me immeasurably, and I am ever-so grateful for that. He had "esteem for partner" down to an art form. No guy had treated me that well in years, or maybe ever. But there was just... something that I couldn't pin point that didn't work. He had already told me about his biggest trials and such, and that wasn't it. There was a pain there that I couldn't fix, couldn't solve, and honestly could do nothing about. I couldn't do what he needed.
Sometimes I come into people's lives unexpectedly and make a dent. In other's lives I may as well not exist, but I know that I have always tried to leave these men better than I found them. I try to do that with everyone, although it works only part of the time. Life is not always kind. But there's that little "endure to the end" phrase that I've learned means to keep up your pluckiness. Be the person that you and God want you to be. Keep trying. Keep working. Keep striving. No matter how hard, long, or nasty the road, it all works out in the end. I tend to think of Lord of the Rings in Return of the King, with Gandalf the White, after he essentially comes back from the dead and he's on a the parapet with Merrywether Took, and Merrywether is nervous about dying. Gandalf talks about the next country in such loving terms that you remember that maybe it's not really the end that hurts. I am hesitant to share this, but something that I learned from my Mother's death is that fear has no place in love, and also that death is only a graduation. Most people fear it cause they're not ready for it. A few people, like my Mom, do their utmost and finally get the appreciation and the rewards that they deserve for a life lived in service to others. Death is not something I fear. It feels golden and beautiful, but in the meantime, I need to slog it out here and fight against the wicked Sauron's of the world (such as those who try to influence media in a way that does not have any values whatsoever) who would bring to the world a darkness far worse than death.
While never getting married has been a fear in the past, I am doing my best to get over it, and maybe to try not falling in love quite so easily with single guys that I know who aren't my future husband. Yeah, fat chance on that one. I just hope that when he does come around, which who knows when that will be, that I won't treat him like all other guys whom I had mad crushes on that never panned out. I'd love to be around a man who was proud of me, and to whom I could go to for honest and good advice. Someone who Dale Carnegie mentions as having "horse sense."
I want a man. A good one. Someone who wants a woman who will live her life to help him in any aspect that he needs. Someone who wants to honor and cherish him her whole life, but is not about to make a dumb mistake and just marry a guy because he's a good guy. There has to be more than that. There must be a certainty, clearer than crystal, that he's right for me. Only then would I give it a fair shake. I want a man with the same standards, values and beliefs as my parents. Someone with goals in life who can take me to the temple. Any less will not do. This is not asking too much. It is asking a man to rise and Be men! Strong understanding and of a good courage. Someone who fights for the right, and who isn't afraid of it, but doesn't act zany about it. Someone who understands protocol (who works within the system to change it when needed, or gets societal rules or asks when he doesn't know) and someone with whom I can spend the rest of my life. Someone who hopefully, we don't hate each other, and who when the chips are down knows that we can do this thing. It's probably a lot to ask, but I just hope someday that a guy reading this will see himself and feel commitment and challenge to be a better man or to let me explain. I just hope that it works out.
Tomorrow night, my roomie and I are having a card games night, and tomorrow during the day I am making two dozen cookies and cleaning the house. Whew! Yeah, not probably getting any "actual" work done(as in genealogy business), but I hope that we shall have a very clean house when it is over, and some good old card games ready to go for festivities. Not sure who, or if anyone will come. I'd love it if they did, but in the meantime, there will be Adzuki bean chips, regular tortilla chips, Jack's salsa, hummus, cranberry-raspberry 100% juice, and the 130-year-old cookie recipe of my Mom's. I've seen the original recipe, and I've seen my Mom's. She's tweaked it, and I like her version better. Just need to be careful about the chocolate. We shall see. So, here's to a party night followed up by a Wednesday full of packing!
And that's all she wrote.
Love to the man of my dreams, should he exist,
The Genealogy Doctor
PS- Yes, I know that I'm a romantic.
I want to find out how it ends. Probably should just have watched the movie. That, at least is PG-13. I tried to help that girl today with family history again, but I was not on my game. She's going back to New Jersey tomorrow, and I felt badly. Sticking that much crud into my head didn't help anything. I think that I will need a serious detox after this.
Tonight after walking laps, roomie and I watched the Office and then Scrubs. Honestly, I've decided that Scrubs is 90% sexual innuendo. I was thinking, "Is the whole world so obsessed with sex?" I mean, it seems like it. I'm a virgin, and although I have done some kissing, I haven't done a lot of further things. What can I say? I'm trying to be good, and have held as fast as possible to this for a long time. I've had opportunities to do these things, but just because an opportunity for temptation presents itself doesn't mean that I need to do it.
I was listening to Billy Joel's "Only the Good Die Young" for a few seconds on the radio, and while it has a super-catchy beat, and it's a fun-seeming song, the message is anything but that. I was thinking the other day in the shower that there are psychologists or pop-psychologists that say that good girls are attracted to bad boys. In my case, it's been the opposite. Men who started out with good character, and could have been magnificent, and yet they chose against it in the end. I met a couple of guys like this when I was much younger. Amazing, brilliant men with whom we'd been flirting for more than a year. They both finally got the guts to ask me out after I was done with the situations where we were around each other on a regular basis. Who they were then versus who they became years later (thanks FB for the updates?) hurts. Both of them try to be good in their own sphere, and I applaud that merit. It came down to the Church (no sex before marriage, alcohol, and other standards), and the Church won. Who would want me sans my basic moral fiber and personality? 90% of my life is tied up in the Church, and it has the potential of making me truly who I want to be. I can't give that up, and I honestly shouldn't have to worry about that. It's part of me. I'm all about lifting up the other partner, but not at the expense of my morals or testimony.
One of my favorite quotes from Eat, Pray, Love (the movie- Yes, I read the book beforehand) is "You don't need a man, Liz. You need a champion!" I love the look that Julia Roberts gives to the Brazilian when he says this. Any woman loves a man who sees and comments on her goodness but in a beautifully flirtatious way, with no overt suggestive basis. I need a man who is tempered by his circumstances and yet still have passion for life. Although I may be quiet (not sure how I come off to people, honestly), I am fiery. I like to "blame" this on my Scottish background, but it's mainly my Mom.
Once in Institute a few years ago, the teachers asked for the whole "traits of the opposite companion" lists that they tend to do. I said, "Spunky!" and the whole room turned around and stared at me. I explained that I'm a fiery person, and I want a person who can keep up with me. The guys started grinning and the teacher got a grin, too. I'm not sure if they knew what to do with me, but it didn't matter. They had already listed various traits of kindness, gentility, etc., and those are good and necessary, but I need a guy who's got some umph! to him. Some gusto, joie de vivre, ganas, fortitude, and basic spunk. I probably have enough for a couple of people, but I want a man with whom I can be confident, but not fake. Someone with whom I don't necessarily compete, or better yet who understands that my competitive streak is only there due to upbringing and isn't something that I want to practice. I like Sim City classic because it's a one-player game and you try to build versus destroying things. I love to create. I hate to destroy. Maybe such a man doesn't exist. A guy who listens and who is kind when he needs to be, but who can be honest and tell me when I'm being dumb about something, but hopefully in a nice way. No, I'm not a lesbian, and I'm not looking for the "sensitive" type. I just want a guy who gets me and can accept me as I am. That's going to be tough.
Even saying all of this, I have run across guys who were sensitive, kind, thoughtful, etc. and I honestly did love them. At the same time, though, they weren't the right guy. Just weren't. One case that I can think of, the guy was amazing. I almost married him, but he called me up crying and told me that he had prayed and felt that God told him that there was someone else out there for me. I was stunned since I didn't realize that was his direct intention. He wasn't a member of the Church, but he knew that I was bound and determined to marry in the temple, and I wasn't about the marry a guy who joined the Church just for me. He knew all of that and was still highly considering the whole thing, enough to ask God about it. I think that it all hit me a few days later when I just started crying uncontrollably for at least a half hour and had no idea at the time why. Here's to shock.
The most recent guy valued me immeasurably, and I am ever-so grateful for that. He had "esteem for partner" down to an art form. No guy had treated me that well in years, or maybe ever. But there was just... something that I couldn't pin point that didn't work. He had already told me about his biggest trials and such, and that wasn't it. There was a pain there that I couldn't fix, couldn't solve, and honestly could do nothing about. I couldn't do what he needed.
Sometimes I come into people's lives unexpectedly and make a dent. In other's lives I may as well not exist, but I know that I have always tried to leave these men better than I found them. I try to do that with everyone, although it works only part of the time. Life is not always kind. But there's that little "endure to the end" phrase that I've learned means to keep up your pluckiness. Be the person that you and God want you to be. Keep trying. Keep working. Keep striving. No matter how hard, long, or nasty the road, it all works out in the end. I tend to think of Lord of the Rings in Return of the King, with Gandalf the White, after he essentially comes back from the dead and he's on a the parapet with Merrywether Took, and Merrywether is nervous about dying. Gandalf talks about the next country in such loving terms that you remember that maybe it's not really the end that hurts. I am hesitant to share this, but something that I learned from my Mother's death is that fear has no place in love, and also that death is only a graduation. Most people fear it cause they're not ready for it. A few people, like my Mom, do their utmost and finally get the appreciation and the rewards that they deserve for a life lived in service to others. Death is not something I fear. It feels golden and beautiful, but in the meantime, I need to slog it out here and fight against the wicked Sauron's of the world (such as those who try to influence media in a way that does not have any values whatsoever) who would bring to the world a darkness far worse than death.
While never getting married has been a fear in the past, I am doing my best to get over it, and maybe to try not falling in love quite so easily with single guys that I know who aren't my future husband. Yeah, fat chance on that one. I just hope that when he does come around, which who knows when that will be, that I won't treat him like all other guys whom I had mad crushes on that never panned out. I'd love to be around a man who was proud of me, and to whom I could go to for honest and good advice. Someone who Dale Carnegie mentions as having "horse sense."
I want a man. A good one. Someone who wants a woman who will live her life to help him in any aspect that he needs. Someone who wants to honor and cherish him her whole life, but is not about to make a dumb mistake and just marry a guy because he's a good guy. There has to be more than that. There must be a certainty, clearer than crystal, that he's right for me. Only then would I give it a fair shake. I want a man with the same standards, values and beliefs as my parents. Someone with goals in life who can take me to the temple. Any less will not do. This is not asking too much. It is asking a man to rise and Be men! Strong understanding and of a good courage. Someone who fights for the right, and who isn't afraid of it, but doesn't act zany about it. Someone who understands protocol (who works within the system to change it when needed, or gets societal rules or asks when he doesn't know) and someone with whom I can spend the rest of my life. Someone who hopefully, we don't hate each other, and who when the chips are down knows that we can do this thing. It's probably a lot to ask, but I just hope someday that a guy reading this will see himself and feel commitment and challenge to be a better man or to let me explain. I just hope that it works out.
Tomorrow night, my roomie and I are having a card games night, and tomorrow during the day I am making two dozen cookies and cleaning the house. Whew! Yeah, not probably getting any "actual" work done(as in genealogy business), but I hope that we shall have a very clean house when it is over, and some good old card games ready to go for festivities. Not sure who, or if anyone will come. I'd love it if they did, but in the meantime, there will be Adzuki bean chips, regular tortilla chips, Jack's salsa, hummus, cranberry-raspberry 100% juice, and the 130-year-old cookie recipe of my Mom's. I've seen the original recipe, and I've seen my Mom's. She's tweaked it, and I like her version better. Just need to be careful about the chocolate. We shall see. So, here's to a party night followed up by a Wednesday full of packing!
And that's all she wrote.
Love to the man of my dreams, should he exist,
The Genealogy Doctor
PS- Yes, I know that I'm a romantic.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Today's Day
Woke up this morning after having a crazy dream where the people that I care about (in this dream, temple workers and yarn shop people) were somehow locked inside a room of a house and a demon was killing them off. I couldn't do that much to help them, but I kept trying to figure out what was happening to them, and was unable to tell whether the indications for whether they were alive were for real or not. Started out trying to do one thing that would be effective but by the end of the dream, I was shaking at stuffed dolls. It was scary. The night before last, I dreamed that a particular interest didn't care and was avoiding me. While that dream may be true, the demons and such seems to be a reminder akin to Dr. Who. I woke up scared and tired, like I'd been battling all night. It was as if something was threatening and challenging me that the people that I cared about would ...I wouldn't be able to take care of them if I left for the next town.
More than a week ago, I dreamed that I was going cross-country to Chicago and my father and sister were riding with me. We passed by a winery, and although active LDS people don't drink wine, I see no reason to make fun of people who do that for their livelihoods. In the dream, my Dad and sister were unwisely making fun of these people. Although their house was far away and we were on the highway, one of them said, "We heard you" and I felt ashamed for what was said. Later we stopped by a house that looked similar to the winery, but was not it. The people seemed very nice, but too nice-- a little bit Stepford and plastic. While they were feeding us and etc., all of a sudden there were these tubes in my heels. I remember in the dream shutting my eyes and feeling down at my heels to see whether the tubes were really there, and I felt them! I got really scared and wanted out. The people who were seemingly nice definitely weren't, whereas the people who may have been doing something that I personally would not necessarily approve of the results were the better people. I just wanted away from all of them, and kept heading towards Chicago. The next thing you know, I'm over Chicago, but the place looks like a lake or a bunch of islands all together and green on top, like Chicago had been flooded and the buildings that were tall enough to be above the water had turned into islands. Again, not too cool. I woke up thinking that something was trying to keep my from going to Chicago, and being more determined than ever TO go.
I'm still going. Honestly, it's the right thing to do, and whether I die on the way, I'm still going.
So after the first dream written above is when I woke up for my day. Woke up groggily and wished that I could go back to bed and get more sleep, but this is what happens when I stay up too late these days, I think.
So I got up, read scrips and Preach My Gospel, tried to get myself up and washed my chosen Sunday shirt quickly (it's a hand-wash shirt, and it means it), threw on that and a long black skirt along with my red "ruby" slippers and went out of the house feeling like a liberated hippie on my way to Ward Council. Ward Council happened, and then choir, and then a good Sacrament Meeting on service/obedience, and then a fun Sunday School lesson where I learned that the First Counselor's family is from South Africa in addition to other places, and then a good RS lesson. Picked back up my temple binders, and went home. I felt a little bit odd leaving my Dad a Happy Father's Day voice mail, but I figured that he would call me back if he wanted to. I do love my Dad, but he's not good at email, and I'm actually really horrible at phones. He won't "give" on this, and I just keep my phone around for texting and emergencies, so... we don't communicate frequently. I would like a better relationship with him, but things aren't easy.
So, made a salad and watched Just Like Heaven with my roommate. She's a doll, and it's a cute movie, so it was good. I even got in some knitting time! Afterwards, she began working on packing, which made me want to move my boxes and so I did. Front room was cleared out and then I started working on the dreaded closet, where I have kept who knows what stuff for the past three years. Got it half cleaned out, in addition to the central credenza. I think that there is a lot less stuff that I want than what I have, and I hope to get rid of or sell or somehow distribute items before I leave. It's really good that two of my roommates moved out more than a month ago so that my present roommate and I can use those rooms to have as places to stick stuff as e decide and pack. Makes life much easier.
I also applied to more jobs and figured out more schedule time as well. I have a card games night this week and am just hoping and praying that my Costco card isn't expired. I had enough before this weekend to get it renewed, and were the games night on Wednesday, it wouldn't be a problem. As it is, I'm not sure. may have to borrow another friend's card to get snacky-snacks for the evening.
Otherwise, it's been a good evening. My land lady is vacuuming at 12:20 AM, but really? Eh, congrats. Whatever floateth thy boateth. It's been a productive day. Not as lazy as Sunday tends to be for me. Just a good day.
Here's to Chicago!
Love from the Genealogy Doctor
More than a week ago, I dreamed that I was going cross-country to Chicago and my father and sister were riding with me. We passed by a winery, and although active LDS people don't drink wine, I see no reason to make fun of people who do that for their livelihoods. In the dream, my Dad and sister were unwisely making fun of these people. Although their house was far away and we were on the highway, one of them said, "We heard you" and I felt ashamed for what was said. Later we stopped by a house that looked similar to the winery, but was not it. The people seemed very nice, but too nice-- a little bit Stepford and plastic. While they were feeding us and etc., all of a sudden there were these tubes in my heels. I remember in the dream shutting my eyes and feeling down at my heels to see whether the tubes were really there, and I felt them! I got really scared and wanted out. The people who were seemingly nice definitely weren't, whereas the people who may have been doing something that I personally would not necessarily approve of the results were the better people. I just wanted away from all of them, and kept heading towards Chicago. The next thing you know, I'm over Chicago, but the place looks like a lake or a bunch of islands all together and green on top, like Chicago had been flooded and the buildings that were tall enough to be above the water had turned into islands. Again, not too cool. I woke up thinking that something was trying to keep my from going to Chicago, and being more determined than ever TO go.
I'm still going. Honestly, it's the right thing to do, and whether I die on the way, I'm still going.
So after the first dream written above is when I woke up for my day. Woke up groggily and wished that I could go back to bed and get more sleep, but this is what happens when I stay up too late these days, I think.
So I got up, read scrips and Preach My Gospel, tried to get myself up and washed my chosen Sunday shirt quickly (it's a hand-wash shirt, and it means it), threw on that and a long black skirt along with my red "ruby" slippers and went out of the house feeling like a liberated hippie on my way to Ward Council. Ward Council happened, and then choir, and then a good Sacrament Meeting on service/obedience, and then a fun Sunday School lesson where I learned that the First Counselor's family is from South Africa in addition to other places, and then a good RS lesson. Picked back up my temple binders, and went home. I felt a little bit odd leaving my Dad a Happy Father's Day voice mail, but I figured that he would call me back if he wanted to. I do love my Dad, but he's not good at email, and I'm actually really horrible at phones. He won't "give" on this, and I just keep my phone around for texting and emergencies, so... we don't communicate frequently. I would like a better relationship with him, but things aren't easy.
So, made a salad and watched Just Like Heaven with my roommate. She's a doll, and it's a cute movie, so it was good. I even got in some knitting time! Afterwards, she began working on packing, which made me want to move my boxes and so I did. Front room was cleared out and then I started working on the dreaded closet, where I have kept who knows what stuff for the past three years. Got it half cleaned out, in addition to the central credenza. I think that there is a lot less stuff that I want than what I have, and I hope to get rid of or sell or somehow distribute items before I leave. It's really good that two of my roommates moved out more than a month ago so that my present roommate and I can use those rooms to have as places to stick stuff as e decide and pack. Makes life much easier.
I also applied to more jobs and figured out more schedule time as well. I have a card games night this week and am just hoping and praying that my Costco card isn't expired. I had enough before this weekend to get it renewed, and were the games night on Wednesday, it wouldn't be a problem. As it is, I'm not sure. may have to borrow another friend's card to get snacky-snacks for the evening.
Otherwise, it's been a good evening. My land lady is vacuuming at 12:20 AM, but really? Eh, congrats. Whatever floateth thy boateth. It's been a productive day. Not as lazy as Sunday tends to be for me. Just a good day.
Here's to Chicago!
Love from the Genealogy Doctor
Oh, What a Day!
Got up, scrips and Preach My Gospel read, and then trying to figure out what to do with the day since I'd slept in. My room really needs to be organized better and I need to start getting things where they need to go. Also MUST get all of these boxes out of the front room before Tuesday's card games night. Not sure whether people will show or not, but worst case scenario, I have cookies, hummus and chips, and my own mocktails and play cards with my roommate or watch a movie. I can't go wrong with this. Maybe can be lonely, but can't go wrong. If no one shows, then *shrugs* that's life I guess.
So I was trying to figure everything out, texted SD since she mentioned that she wanted some family history help today, and we re-arranged to do that next week. Went shopping today and I actually ended up getting groceries. Since even though I don't work all the time, I haven't been thinking about grocery shopping for a while, it was probably a good idea to go and do. Ended up going to Winco, getting salad-style stuff (part-time vegetarian at the moment) and the Creamery for milk. I will admit, it was good to actually buy real groceries again, and I can make some potato salad for tomorrow in addition to regular green salad. :)
Came home, got ready for temple shift and kind of had a marvelous time tonight. It was pretty normal, but the fact that next week is my last time on the shift after 3.5 years, and I've made so many fantastic friends there, well, things were hitting me kind of hard. Started hitting me at Winco when I was out with SD, and then just kept getting worse. So much has happened since I started that shift. I changed wards, Bishoprics, boyfriends, hair colors, apartments, oodles of roommates, and there have been so many people that have changed on the shift. There are maybe only a couple that are still there that have been there ever since I started, and it's just...well, they're family.
The whole move itself feels like I'm going off to college for the first time all over again. It's similar. Driving across country with someone who may as well be related as an adopted Mom, JR, missing my old friends that I got attached to before leaving, and trying to pack all my stuff. Granted, this is way bigger with it being a Masters degree, and my stuff needing an honest-to-goodness truck hauling it and my CAR! this time, but... to quote Mushu, "My lil baby's all grown up... and, saving China!" *sticking tongue out* Yeah, not quite.
What I wrote in my essay to get into these schools in the first place was about writing grants to get money to renovate commercial downtown spaces. I honestly am not sure how to do that, but the grant writing is something that interests and intrigues me. I've felt for a while that whatever job that I would get for the education wouldn't even exist until I was done with the Masters, or just that it wasn't around in 2006 when I first felt that this was the right idea. What a LONG road to getting here! Holy mackerel.
Since 2006, the remaining three grandparents died, I've been given up on by people who were the equivalent of best friends, have loved and lost, and I've dealt with unemployment too much. I did, however, get into two Master programs and will consequentially need to re-apply to the one, I started my own business before turning 30, I worked on the federal census, read the whole King James Bible and now have been through the whole standard works once at least (yeah, not much, but some books more so than others), I wrote a book that got published (e-book, but still a book), graduated from the Bachelors, written 136 articles that were published whether or not they were short and highly subject-specific, have made friends and influenced people, and helped friends to get to where they wanted to needed to be.
I've sometimes sacrificed my pride to jump-start other people, and now I get a chance to really do what needs to be done. I'm in-process of writing my second book, making a peace offering quilt for my Dad and step-Mom, am trying hard to keep up with exercising, and am trying to get into learning German. Oh yeah, and I learned how to knit, how to tat (lace form, not tattooing), started my own knitting group, and the group held an exhibit, was in the local paper, and now we even have a regular guy who comes in addition to 40 people on the email list. And they are going to keep it going once I leave! They make me very happy. The group has been going strong for two years at the end of August, and they are indeed the Fabulous Fibers!
Yes, there have been tons of setbacks, most of which I didn't write above, but in the end, things are coming together and I am happier than I've ever been. People talk about how you're the happiest in your life while on the mission. Honestly, for me the mission was extremely stressful and freaking hard. Yes, I LOVED the people, but I'm not going to give some Blythe reaction to "How was your mission?" So often people come back with response of "So good," and sound plastic. Do you think that that actually conveys what happens on a mission, how much you change, how your whole life becomes something where when you get back, you feel like you almost don't know which end is up because the structure is gone... I mean, it puts you through a meat grinder, strainer, and flavor-enhancer, so by the time you're done, you may as well be the juiciest Kobe beef burger in the world whereas before you were simply boxed frozen fast food. A mission brings out who you really are, and it uses your strengths, grills you over a pit, and you're served. So, although it was a good experience, I shun from the non-accurate commentary. But you know what?
This move feels like winning a lottery mixed with digging and finding oyster-pearls combined with panning out gold. It's as if there is something rare, precious, and infinitely worth while in going there. Why else would I feel so deliriously happy when I think about simply the street layout? God gave me a choice last summer about whether or not to move then, and the right thing was to stay in Provo and be a candle or a rock. Not sure what that meant, but I have gone to Church when there wasn't social support for going, have felt like I failed in a calling and still went through with it, and did what I could. It wasn't the absolute best, I'll admit it, but it was my best. I hope that that means something.
My testimony has been wrung over a few times, and God has allowed me tremendous growth through it all. It's been one heck of a ride, and I don't recommend it, honestly. Were Disney to build it, it would be a scary and non-fun Haunted Mansion, but in the end, my word, Do I really get a happy ending? I'm not used to being so happy that I can call it up at a moment's notice and be kind of giddy out of nowhere. None of it is fake. It's so real that it makes me incredibly grateful. Just... I never expected to be more than droning on in life, trying to make it and never really getting anywhere. I never knew that I could make one decision that would catapult me in a direction where I literally feel as if I'm in constant sunshine. It's like the sun never sets on my heart except when I let it.
I feel as if this is the part where at the beginning of the Princess Diaries 2, Anne Hathaway is reading/"writing in her diary" about how she's never been in love, and how that's the next step. I will admit to having been in love before. Have never been married, never engaged, although pretty close enough times, and, well, that part of my life has not made itself manifest at the present time. Seems like the perfect ending to this. But I've been thinking, especially when it comes to this book (the Memoir that I'm in-process of writing), maybe this exact moment isn't about finding Prince Charming. The Lord has His time table, and so long as I do my best to be obedient, He figures things out. It's not about the end result, President Todd (my stake president) says. He said a few times that "you're obedient, and whether or not the blessings come in this life isn't the point...Not to rest your faith on the results of things." And that includes and especially applies to marriage.
No, I don't consider myself a disappointed old spinster. I am who I am, and I have faith that God is the House. The House always wins. God is my Father, and He knows and wants the best for me. And thus, I will win because the battle is for my obedience, my allegiance, my faith, and not for results. Results are guaranteed at some point, so long as I am obedient, and do my darndest to live for the Kingdom. So there you go. The Genealogy Doctor is getting a happy ending no matter what the results are. Besides, I only have my life planned up through to July 12th when I drop off JR at the airport and I'm officially on my own in Chicago. And then again on August 29th with the start of grad school. In the meantime and the foreseeable future, I have no idea what's going to happen, but I am fine with that.
Over'n'out,
The Genealogy Doctor
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Something Unexpected
I had an appointment with a girl that I met in the Library to help her with her family history. I was a little bit late due to lots of people using Visitor Parking, but arrived and started working. Got a few basic generations down that she already had, and then got to work. She has Italian immigrant ancestry. Emigrated to the United States around 1929. Good era for Ships Passenger Rolls. We found the family all there excepting the oldest kid. She had none of this info. Add to that, we found an obituary for a great or grand uncle that outlined all of the kids, including married names of sisters. They were all Americanized, but getting the surnames of the married sisters, we were able to find their SSDI records and get exact dates and places for births and deaths, in addition to locations. The girl walked out with passenger lists, SSDI records, a WWI Draft Registration, the obit, and a few other documents. Things worked out really well.
It was four hours, and neither of us noticed how much time had gone by until then. We were both starved. So, I went to Taco Bell and she got some granola stuff. I can tell that she has healthier instincts than I do, but c'est la vie. She had paid me around $1.50 for copies. We weren't doing this as a client thing, but I just wanted to help. We got her started and I trained her on using new.familysearch.org, and we got some really good work done. In addition, I think that I got a friend. I don't do those things for charity, so to speak, I just felt like it was a good thing to do. Didn't expect the time commitment, but I was able to figure out a part of my tomorrow and things seemed to work out with it. And I will see her again on Monday. And then she leaves for New Jersey on Tuesday. She just came back from two years in Japan, so ...wow, yeah, I think I probably should ask her about the tsunami and earthquake stuff, but in the meantime, I haven't felt exhausted like that after doing family history work in a long time and it felt GREAT!
We were talking during the snack, and she asked me if I had ever heard of the 100 Hour Board. I used to be a writer, and told her that. She looked astounded and told me that she was the editor right now. I will not say my pseudonyms while writing. That's against Writer Policy, but she invited me to a shindig get-together thing happening tonight a ton of times and even though I said that I wouldn't go, I thought, "Why not?" and I wondered if she needed a ride. So, I showed up. Had a good chicken sandwich and some so-so chili and a drink.
But I also met a reader who was interesting. Finishing up his Masters in Comp Engineering, he seemed like a good guy. We had a conversation where we kind of forgot everyone else was around, and when we were done, there were only a few writers left. We left at the same time, and I got his email. Yeah, not my norm, but he's moving in two months and I'm moving in three weeks and I thought, in the words of Armande from Chocolat, "Live a little." And it made me grin afterwards. He got my email, too. It was sweet. So, yeah, no guarantees of anything, but it was fun and I felt great.
As I was driving away, I thought about how Chicago may be different just because I am not minding taking a chance as much as I used to. Made me happy, and he was grinning as he left. It was nice.
Rented True Grit the new version, and thought there were a lot of spare body parts in the film. It was unexpected and really emotionally gritty, so to speak. I could see that being a true story for someone's family at some point, but in the end I was glad that I had been knitting through it. Got an inch done on the second fingerless glove. No, I can't knit without looking yet, but I can look up and down pretty quickly. Never would be able to knit in an actual theater, though.
Oh, and awesome news! A girl from knitting group's son has the last episode for this section of Dr. Who. Totally stoked for watching it!
That's all for now.
The Genealogy Doctor
It was four hours, and neither of us noticed how much time had gone by until then. We were both starved. So, I went to Taco Bell and she got some granola stuff. I can tell that she has healthier instincts than I do, but c'est la vie. She had paid me around $1.50 for copies. We weren't doing this as a client thing, but I just wanted to help. We got her started and I trained her on using new.familysearch.org, and we got some really good work done. In addition, I think that I got a friend. I don't do those things for charity, so to speak, I just felt like it was a good thing to do. Didn't expect the time commitment, but I was able to figure out a part of my tomorrow and things seemed to work out with it. And I will see her again on Monday. And then she leaves for New Jersey on Tuesday. She just came back from two years in Japan, so ...wow, yeah, I think I probably should ask her about the tsunami and earthquake stuff, but in the meantime, I haven't felt exhausted like that after doing family history work in a long time and it felt GREAT!
We were talking during the snack, and she asked me if I had ever heard of the 100 Hour Board. I used to be a writer, and told her that. She looked astounded and told me that she was the editor right now. I will not say my pseudonyms while writing. That's against Writer Policy, but she invited me to a shindig get-together thing happening tonight a ton of times and even though I said that I wouldn't go, I thought, "Why not?" and I wondered if she needed a ride. So, I showed up. Had a good chicken sandwich and some so-so chili and a drink.
But I also met a reader who was interesting. Finishing up his Masters in Comp Engineering, he seemed like a good guy. We had a conversation where we kind of forgot everyone else was around, and when we were done, there were only a few writers left. We left at the same time, and I got his email. Yeah, not my norm, but he's moving in two months and I'm moving in three weeks and I thought, in the words of Armande from Chocolat, "Live a little." And it made me grin afterwards. He got my email, too. It was sweet. So, yeah, no guarantees of anything, but it was fun and I felt great.
As I was driving away, I thought about how Chicago may be different just because I am not minding taking a chance as much as I used to. Made me happy, and he was grinning as he left. It was nice.
Rented True Grit the new version, and thought there were a lot of spare body parts in the film. It was unexpected and really emotionally gritty, so to speak. I could see that being a true story for someone's family at some point, but in the end I was glad that I had been knitting through it. Got an inch done on the second fingerless glove. No, I can't knit without looking yet, but I can look up and down pretty quickly. Never would be able to knit in an actual theater, though.
Oh, and awesome news! A girl from knitting group's son has the last episode for this section of Dr. Who. Totally stoked for watching it!
That's all for now.
The Genealogy Doctor
Friday, June 17, 2011
Day in the Life of...
Yesterday's post felt really preachy, and I woke up thinking that I probably had offended someone that I didn't mean to offend. If that's you, please forgive me. I want to focus on "Love thy neighbor" versus "Give thy neighbor a guilt trip" or anything worse.
Today was waking up, scriptures, starting Preach My Gospel, then checking email, eating muffin for breakfast, and then trying to do more research on lines that are baffling the heck out of me. I'm trying to find people where I not only don't have that much info, but there are three potential, no maybe four different surnames per person in addition to three separate locations, and then there's another person to add to this mix and they're just... not budging. At least not the Mom. Wow. I have never had this much trouble where someone won't budge, and there's just NOTHING on them.
So showered, whatever, and got down to the library after a salad at L&T and started scanning. Scanning and looking everywhere for this woman and her son was maddening. At the end of it, my friend, MSA, starting messaging me about her day at the temple in Ohio and I basically decided to put off scanning the end results until tomorrow. While at the library, I met a girl around my age who was in town for a short time and wanted to know more about her family history. She took Dr. Sperry's Intro class, but wasn't able to find out too much. Within 20 second on Ancestry, I had one of the families that she was interested in finding up and emailed it off to her. That made me feel better. We have an appointment to meet up again tomorrow to further help out.
Got to knitting, and MO and D weren't there yet, but others were there. I showed up and we grabbed another big table, re-arranging furniture, and I had to stop and grab something from the cafe. A baby key lime pie had me set for the time there. SO good. I think that I'm just in the mood for key lime pie-style stuff right now. It's been a year (almost) since my grandpa's funeral, and when the family was down in Florida, we went for dinner on the Keys, and I bought a key lime candle and have been addicted to the citrus ever since. It smells amazing, and it's just... SO good! That, and recently I've been mildly obsessed with the cleaning powers of lemon juice, baking soda, and white vinegar. If I could buy stock in generic companies that make such products, I totally would. That, and learning the properties of Borax. And glycerin, salt, and baking soda as a toothpaste-like compound in addition to Ayuverdic treatments. Henna has been my hair's friend for six years...how it gets red, but I'm growing it out to see what else I can do with it. But the more that I grow it out, my brown is actually getting lighter and I like it. So, it's kinda fun.
After that, did some very good knitting on my friend's fingerless gloves with mitten flaps and nearly started the second one. Also showed off my knee-length argyle socks that took a year to finish. Will post pics of all involved a little bit later. Dr. Who's end of this half of the season episode wasn't recorded (SAD DAY) and so I don't know the end yet, but the gals in my group are working on finding it. We'll see. I have no idea. It was online for all of maybe three days, and then now, just nothing. Reruns of previous episodes, and I've seen all of those. Aich. First doctor in this version, decent guy. Second doctor, David Tennant, Scottish=hot, at least in his case. He looks a little bit like my Dad, but my Dad when he was younger. Hey, I have good genes for physical appearance if I can just get smaller. But then, when he left, which everyone was like, Really? then came Matt Smith. He was completely not what was expected, but he has the energy, charisma, and general charm of David with his own flair- I mean, who else could say, "Bow ties are cool." and mean it and make you believe it? Yeah, he's that kind of guy. Just can't help but to like his character anyway, cause...it's the Doctor and there's a reason why his companions always end up falling for him despite him being just a hair bit nuts. It's the Doctor. You just... can't resist him.
So anyway, got some good knitting in, and then I really wanted to show up for at least one of the Harry Potter movie nights that Ellis and co. hold weekly in anticipation of the Harry Potter final movie coming out next month. I feel sad that I won't be around for it, but I will be in Chicago, maybe dumb-founded, etc. But I really want to see this movie! Anyway, tonight was the 5th movie, where Cedric Diggory dies, and since the movie first came out when my Mom passed, it has pretty powerful memories attached and it always makes me cry when Harry gets back with Cedric's body, Fleur screams, and then Cedric's Dad just keeps saying, "My son, my son!" So sad. On a recent FB commenting thread conversation, my friend DB asked about whether or not a particular movie makes a difference in your life. It seems to be a general consensus that one movie doesn't make a difference, but multiple movies, or showings of the same movie do. At least, big sweeping life changes. One movie doesn't usually change your life, but lots of movies over time change society, so they definitely change things.
Afterwards, I was chilling with the people there, making small talk and attempting that thing, and then started talking with SD, very good friend and frequent confidante, and we ended up leaving and talking, and then walking around the neighborhood talking. Got up to a look-out point above the double chapels off Locust and this black car blasting heavy-duty bass came up behind us and drove past us. While originally we were considering walking through the parking lots to get back to the neighborhood, SD and I both had the feeling that the black car was dangerous and so we stopped, turned around and walked away pretty quickly. SD texted a friend, and he met us when we were back to her street. I don't wish to ever know what that guy in the car was thinking, but it was the antithesis of good.
When we got back to her house, I literally felt like there was this tense weight lifted and as if I'd re-entered marshmallow land. Never let anyone tell you that Provo is 100% safe all the time or that there isn't danger. Trust me; bad people are everywhere, and if good is casual or non-chalant about life, or just not listening, potentially horrible things can happen. Listen and live, perhaps. Got in my car, drove home, and ended up talking with a friend after her breaking up with a serious boyfriend, and another friend telling me about a different guy.
Honestly, I love that people are talking to me again. It's one thing that I've missed over the last few years here. I like being dependable, though not taken for granted, and I like being someone that others can talk to. Sure, I have problems. I'm open about them- at least I feel like I try to be open with them if asked, and then I try to make things better. For friends, I don't always make things better per se, but I'll be there for them. I do my best to listen and provide some sort of input if needed. Or none at all if the situation warrants it. Situations don't always warrant it, but I'm getting better at keeping my mouth shut during conversations. And I don't share things afterwards. I know that I'm not the most interesting person in the whole world. I have some friends, okay, most of my friends are infinitely more interesting than I am. They have struggles that are real and I don't know anyone yet who lives like a movie star or who has a situation-comedy or rom-com (romantic comedy) lifestyle. Life is messy, complicated, and great.
There are usually enough triumphs to balance out the woes, whether or not it takes years to get there (my case). The move to Chicago is affecting every part of my life. I haven't been this happy in years. It's like now that I'm getting back to the right path, or finally taking the step that God's wanted for a while, I can't help feeling like there's a sunshine-filled vista or beautiful grove of trees inside me. I feel like I have pep, but not fake pep. I am full of good cheer, and LOVING IT!
There's more that I could say, but I think that I will leave this on a good note.
Happiness be to you, and mazel tov! :)
The Genealogy Doctor
Today was waking up, scriptures, starting Preach My Gospel, then checking email, eating muffin for breakfast, and then trying to do more research on lines that are baffling the heck out of me. I'm trying to find people where I not only don't have that much info, but there are three potential, no maybe four different surnames per person in addition to three separate locations, and then there's another person to add to this mix and they're just... not budging. At least not the Mom. Wow. I have never had this much trouble where someone won't budge, and there's just NOTHING on them.
So showered, whatever, and got down to the library after a salad at L&T and started scanning. Scanning and looking everywhere for this woman and her son was maddening. At the end of it, my friend, MSA, starting messaging me about her day at the temple in Ohio and I basically decided to put off scanning the end results until tomorrow. While at the library, I met a girl around my age who was in town for a short time and wanted to know more about her family history. She took Dr. Sperry's Intro class, but wasn't able to find out too much. Within 20 second on Ancestry, I had one of the families that she was interested in finding up and emailed it off to her. That made me feel better. We have an appointment to meet up again tomorrow to further help out.
Got to knitting, and MO and D weren't there yet, but others were there. I showed up and we grabbed another big table, re-arranging furniture, and I had to stop and grab something from the cafe. A baby key lime pie had me set for the time there. SO good. I think that I'm just in the mood for key lime pie-style stuff right now. It's been a year (almost) since my grandpa's funeral, and when the family was down in Florida, we went for dinner on the Keys, and I bought a key lime candle and have been addicted to the citrus ever since. It smells amazing, and it's just... SO good! That, and recently I've been mildly obsessed with the cleaning powers of lemon juice, baking soda, and white vinegar. If I could buy stock in generic companies that make such products, I totally would. That, and learning the properties of Borax. And glycerin, salt, and baking soda as a toothpaste-like compound in addition to Ayuverdic treatments. Henna has been my hair's friend for six years...how it gets red, but I'm growing it out to see what else I can do with it. But the more that I grow it out, my brown is actually getting lighter and I like it. So, it's kinda fun.
After that, did some very good knitting on my friend's fingerless gloves with mitten flaps and nearly started the second one. Also showed off my knee-length argyle socks that took a year to finish. Will post pics of all involved a little bit later. Dr. Who's end of this half of the season episode wasn't recorded (SAD DAY) and so I don't know the end yet, but the gals in my group are working on finding it. We'll see. I have no idea. It was online for all of maybe three days, and then now, just nothing. Reruns of previous episodes, and I've seen all of those. Aich. First doctor in this version, decent guy. Second doctor, David Tennant, Scottish=hot, at least in his case. He looks a little bit like my Dad, but my Dad when he was younger. Hey, I have good genes for physical appearance if I can just get smaller. But then, when he left, which everyone was like, Really? then came Matt Smith. He was completely not what was expected, but he has the energy, charisma, and general charm of David with his own flair- I mean, who else could say, "Bow ties are cool." and mean it and make you believe it? Yeah, he's that kind of guy. Just can't help but to like his character anyway, cause...it's the Doctor and there's a reason why his companions always end up falling for him despite him being just a hair bit nuts. It's the Doctor. You just... can't resist him.
So anyway, got some good knitting in, and then I really wanted to show up for at least one of the Harry Potter movie nights that Ellis and co. hold weekly in anticipation of the Harry Potter final movie coming out next month. I feel sad that I won't be around for it, but I will be in Chicago, maybe dumb-founded, etc. But I really want to see this movie! Anyway, tonight was the 5th movie, where Cedric Diggory dies, and since the movie first came out when my Mom passed, it has pretty powerful memories attached and it always makes me cry when Harry gets back with Cedric's body, Fleur screams, and then Cedric's Dad just keeps saying, "My son, my son!" So sad. On a recent FB commenting thread conversation, my friend DB asked about whether or not a particular movie makes a difference in your life. It seems to be a general consensus that one movie doesn't make a difference, but multiple movies, or showings of the same movie do. At least, big sweeping life changes. One movie doesn't usually change your life, but lots of movies over time change society, so they definitely change things.
Afterwards, I was chilling with the people there, making small talk and attempting that thing, and then started talking with SD, very good friend and frequent confidante, and we ended up leaving and talking, and then walking around the neighborhood talking. Got up to a look-out point above the double chapels off Locust and this black car blasting heavy-duty bass came up behind us and drove past us. While originally we were considering walking through the parking lots to get back to the neighborhood, SD and I both had the feeling that the black car was dangerous and so we stopped, turned around and walked away pretty quickly. SD texted a friend, and he met us when we were back to her street. I don't wish to ever know what that guy in the car was thinking, but it was the antithesis of good.
When we got back to her house, I literally felt like there was this tense weight lifted and as if I'd re-entered marshmallow land. Never let anyone tell you that Provo is 100% safe all the time or that there isn't danger. Trust me; bad people are everywhere, and if good is casual or non-chalant about life, or just not listening, potentially horrible things can happen. Listen and live, perhaps. Got in my car, drove home, and ended up talking with a friend after her breaking up with a serious boyfriend, and another friend telling me about a different guy.
Honestly, I love that people are talking to me again. It's one thing that I've missed over the last few years here. I like being dependable, though not taken for granted, and I like being someone that others can talk to. Sure, I have problems. I'm open about them- at least I feel like I try to be open with them if asked, and then I try to make things better. For friends, I don't always make things better per se, but I'll be there for them. I do my best to listen and provide some sort of input if needed. Or none at all if the situation warrants it. Situations don't always warrant it, but I'm getting better at keeping my mouth shut during conversations. And I don't share things afterwards. I know that I'm not the most interesting person in the whole world. I have some friends, okay, most of my friends are infinitely more interesting than I am. They have struggles that are real and I don't know anyone yet who lives like a movie star or who has a situation-comedy or rom-com (romantic comedy) lifestyle. Life is messy, complicated, and great.
There are usually enough triumphs to balance out the woes, whether or not it takes years to get there (my case). The move to Chicago is affecting every part of my life. I haven't been this happy in years. It's like now that I'm getting back to the right path, or finally taking the step that God's wanted for a while, I can't help feeling like there's a sunshine-filled vista or beautiful grove of trees inside me. I feel like I have pep, but not fake pep. I am full of good cheer, and LOVING IT!
There's more that I could say, but I think that I will leave this on a good note.
Happiness be to you, and mazel tov! :)
The Genealogy Doctor
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Gratitude for Good Days
Today was really good, but not especially memorable. No major emotional things. Just good. that probably doesn't sound terribly exciting, but some days are just there. I'm trying to make this blog a daily occurrence. Something that records the happenings of every day. Well, some of those days aren't going to be that interesting by the time it reaches midnight. During the day, sure, interesting. At the end of the day, a little less so. Let's see what happened:
A) Woke up. That's a good thing in itself. Too many people have died over the last six years. So, that's definitely a good thing.
B) Read the Book of Mormon after getting up. This is part of my normal routine. I read the first thing after getting up. If I don't do anything else during the day, even when I'm sick, I do this. today's reading was in Mormon, and I'm seeing his perspective. He was in his late teens to early twenties, and older than his age. In today's society, growing up fast is becoming the norm. Not that it's strayed too far outside of the cult of youth during the late 19th and early 20th centuries, and a few other time periods, but honestly, these days you have to be firm and steadfast in your belief system. Not that you can't think for yourself, or anything like that. You have to be able to think for yourself to be firm and steadfast. I used to say that "Obedience is the ultimate rebellion." That meant obedience to value systems and actually following what was right. I'm not a fan of being wishy-washy in one's values. I'm not a jihadist, and out to kill people or harm people who think differently than I do. I'm a fan of being what you believe. It may be painful sometimes, especially when it comes to relationships and friendships with others who definitely don't value the same things, but my priorities are solid. I have a lode star, and it doesn't budge. So yeah, there was a part where the people were swearing by anything and everything that Mormon held sacred. Swearing in such a vain manner and the way they were doing it- making fun or light of things that are sacred is just plain wrong. So, he stopped leading their armies. He couldn't go there, so to speak. The more I read of Mormon, the more I can relate to him.
C) Re-read the last chapter of How to Win Friends and Influence People. It's a great book, and incredibly well-recommended. I have actually tried to do a lot of changing because of it. The more that I've read it (read every chapter at least twice), the more that I see where I've screwed up and want to do better. Most of the time, I'm not entirely out to win friends or influence people, but I think that if a person has a chance to make a positive difference with anyone, why not try it? Doing good is a good thing. Tomorrow I start reading Preach My Gospel. It came out the month that I got home from my mission in LA, and although I've read bits of it in the past, never a concrete effort to get through it before. I think that it's time, and I want to get through as much as possible before Chicago. My new branch out there seems to have a strong missionary emphasis, and since Preach My Gospel is the current manual for such undertakings, I would like to be more-prepared than I feel at the moment.
D) Checked email and FB. This one can either make or break a day for me. Either I get trapped into FB because people are doing interesting things, or else I make myself get away from it because I do have work to do. I feel sometimes like a lot of people spend incredible amounts of time on it, and for me, I haven't necessarily done a ton of blogging in the past. Although I can write mountains in a short amount of time, I don't actually talk to that many people during the day. There are plenty of people around at the Library, and I'm grateful for the current scanning project to get my client's resources all scanned before I leave for Chicago so that I can actually work when I get out there, but otherwise most of the time I can do my work from my room. My room is a private room, and it just has little old me. I have one roommate for the apartment right now, but that doesn't mean that I see her all the time. Right now, we exercise at the track during the evenings, and that's definitely good. But otherwise, FB is an outlet for the people that otherwise don't see people daily. If I was in a regular job with coworkers and such, definitely would be on it rarely. At the present, I try to just check on what people say at the beginning and end of the day, but it's hard not to be on here or there in the middle.
E) Plans: -Get showered, go to bank, get gas, get visit taught, do some scanning, go to temple, unknown.
F) What actually happened (next few letters): Got showered. Already had minor breakfast while doing email/FB. I was waiting for an email from a client, and it didn't show up until later in the day. There was also less information for a collateral line ancestor for a different client, and while I wasn't particularly happy about that, there was enough information that the client could do temple work if they wanted, and that was the important thing. I have decided that showers are my thinking time. I never realized it until the mission, but the shower is where I do most of my processing. Although this may be TMI for some people, ...honestly? eh. Americans shower or bathe usually at least once a day. It's a good thing. I just end up thinking about my relationships with other people then because for once there isn't a screen in front of my face pulling my attention elsewhere. Some people meditate during yoga or creative spa times. I meditate daily, while making sure that I come out cleaner than I came in. Not too shabby.
G) My brain wanted to work linearly today, and the day eventually moved in the linear course of human events, but not at all how I planned it to be. I kept thinking of my mother's phrase "My day is shot to heck!" and I just kind of grinned thinking that I have become my mother, minus being married by 25. I grinned more, though, thinking that although it wasn't going how my brain wanted it to go, being flexible was getting more done in the same amount of time and with more help and a better overall result than I could have gotten with my own little plan.
H) So my friend, TH, came by and by this time I was showered, and about as ready as I like to get (clothes, check; a new moisturizer cream thingy that actually works, check; product in hair enough to keep down fly-aways, check; hair pulled back enough to keep it out of my face and help the top dry flatter, check; decided that I should change to make sure that I was properly dressed for dealing with cleaning out my trunk space, check; brought out all of the collapsed boxes from underneath my bed from moving in three years ago, check; I had put on minor makeup- why am I including this? Because I don't honestly see a reason to wear make up all the time, and usually I want a reason for doing things. In this case, I was going to the temple later. I always wear make up when I am flying (airports) since they treat you better, or maybe on Sundays because of Church, but otherwise? Okay, if a cute guy is going to be around, maybe. But not even all the time then. Well, dates, definitely, but I like keeping the whole thing simple. I can do amazing makeup, but I spend more time living and less time worrying about that. Besides, I have decent features and I prefer to be myself without war paint when I can help it. *shrugs*) and the plan after my visiting teachers arrived was to have them help me clean out the car trunk- yeah, they did the vast majority of it (fabulous, wonderful thank-you ladies!) I was saying what to do with things they were going through, and then TH built boxes with the packing tape that they brought by. TH got an account on Pandora, and had a good ol'time of building while listening to contemporary Christian rock. *smiles*
That was my main progress today. Other people helping me out. But I am seriously grateful for it.
I) The Get-Me-Started-in-Packing Party was over, and the lovely ladies all hugged and left for their respective next parts of their days. My living room has become sectioned a la cardboard, and my car, following stops at the bank, and a gas station, went through a happy car wash and is better than previously. When you go to the temple, they just ask that you are clean. They don't care about makeup, or about whether or not your socks match. All that is expected is that you do your best to be neat and comely in appearance. For those not familiar with older expressions in English, comely typically means that you look your best, although you're not dressing for the Prom or such. Sunday best, the stuff of 1950's musicals and places of worship where rock and roll may not be the normal Sunday music. But that's probably stereotyping, and so I will cut off further references in that respect.
Think suits and ties for guys, ladies wearing dresses or skirts that are respectable lengths. I once had an English teacher who described a paper's length like a lady's skirt- long enough to cover the subject, short enough to make it interesting. While that comment actually did get him into trouble- I thought it was hilarious, myself, so it was sad to hear that got him into trouble, it obviously stuck. However, for the temple, long enough to cover the subject, and we prefer that it hits your knees or lower. Honestly, I am grateful for this. I see no reason to wear mini skirts or such things. A person who values you wants you to value yourself. That means that you wear things that identify that you're worth divinity, if it was offered. Preferably no spandex, or similar body-hugging Saran wrap style items, either. A person who likes him or herself doesn't need to grab attention in ways that contort mental images into something where they really shouldn't be going for someone with values and morals.
Sure, I'm incredibly conservative, and I like that. It keeps me out of trouble. I have the dignity and self-confidence to not worry about looking like a whore. And not doing anything to give myself that label, either. While I'm not here to sound preachy, I'm not backing down. This is something that people within the culture seem to fight all the time. Moral issues that start when people are looking for attention in unfortunate ways. Being a good person and being happy is the best way to grab positive attention. Looking to uplift other's souls and to love each other in helping one another- THAT helps people. Best way to be a friend? Look for the good in others, and tell them about it!
J) Okay, stepping off the soap box for 10 seconds, ...9,8, okay. Enough. So I went to the temple. I wanted my car clean in addition to me being clean. After cleaning out my car trunk, changed before running the errands and went straight there after the errands. I am normally a temple worker, meaning that I help out with things at the temple during my shift on Saturday nights. It's crazy to think that in two weeks, my service there will be over. I've been working there since November 2007. Since it's now June, that's... 3.5 years. Wow. That's my longest calling to date! *grins* Excepting being a visiting teacher, and that's a life-long thing. *bigger grin* Today I was a patron, and things were really good. My plan was to do one thing and then leave, and it turned into doing a few things, and by the end of it, I felt refreshed and happy. And I got a whole lot done. And there were really nice people who helped out.
While I may be just a little vague here, my best description of the temple is a place where you can be who you really want to be. Not some vain, obtuse fantasy of an unfortunate sort, but a place where people are nice and you don't have to be the tough, driven, perpetually-busy business person that you might feel like you have to be outside of it. It helps me allow myself to hope, to have faith, to allow myself to be happy, and for some reason I usually get incredibly hyper in the temple. Most people around me get really reverent, but I just feel like a little kid, and I get bubbly and smiley cause I know that what I'm doing is good and pure and I feel like a princess there. It's the one place where I can finally be myself and let down my guard, and just come out okay. I am my best self in the temple. Not best as in a "showroom" self, but best as in who I truly am and want to be. I'm not fake by nature, but I can let the "me" come out who is my core. The raw, good, dynamic me who doesn't know everything, doesn't have to be all business, doesn't have to save face, and is happy being laid back and feels connected to the Divine all at the same time. It's the me that I wish that I could be more often, like how people often say that they want to be the better person that they are at Christmas time all year. For me, that's how the temple feels. And no, it's definitely not all about me at all.
K) When done with the temple, I saw the most beautiful sunset and looked up and just said, "Thank you." God does a wonderful job with His vistas, doesn't He? I like how in everything He does, He always wants it to be good. That makes me happy.
L) So, the original plan was to get out and head off for the gym with afore-mentioned roommate at 8:30. Considering that I didn't get out until maybe 8:45-9, I texted my roommate to see whether she had already left, got ready, and joined her down there. My IPod Shuffle was battery-dead, and so I did the normal 30 minute walk minus tunes,and then stretched out. Because we were being goofy and could, we got ice cream afterwards. This is a rare thing, but it was just plain old fun! Did we blow our hard-earned workouts? Probably. Did we have a blast at it? Oh yeah. It's not illegal, not immoral, and was soul-fulfilling. To quote Judi Dench's character Armande from Chocolat, "Live a little." Perfect end to a decent day.
M) Came home, watched the Office with said roommate (I'm starting to get it. How crazy is that? After watching various different seasons with her, and her explaining it, since I haven't watched it that much before, I'm starting to understand it. *grins*) I think I may be a Pam. But I'm not sure. *shrugs*
N) Written this blog. It was not intended to be this long. I started thinking that my day wasn't that big of a deal. And I guess it wasn't, but it was fun writing. Maybe that's what I need or have missed more. I write because I live. The two go together for me. Perhaps I'm a natural writer? Unknown.
All my best,
The Genealogy Doctor
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
22 Days to Go
Right now I'm living in Provo, Utah. It's a good town and all, but I am ready for changes. Living here has been an incredible learning experience. From the basics, I'm a DC native. My family is from "Everywhere Europe" if you go back far enough, but more recently (1500-present, +/-) we're Scottish, English, German, Irish, Slovak, Dutch, and some good old Americans whose roots I honestly don't know yet. I'm a genealogist. For anyone who doesn't know what that is, I trace people's ancestors or descendants for a living. If you're interested in knowing more, contact me. I plan to start a genealogy blog soon, but in the meantime I have a whole lot to say about getting to Chicago. So, we'll get back to this immediately.
I feel like the vast majority of my life, if not my whole life has been leading up this move. Chronologically-speaking, (duh, it has!) but otherwise, it's like there's this huge weight on my shoulders and whenever I even think about moving, my heart gets lighter. I just want to start grinning and boogie! I may be nervous about the actual move itself (how in the world am I EVER going to pay for the moving truck? Yeah, no idea.) but I am working hard and doing my best.
Leaving this place on the one hand feels like I'm taking a shower after a good long marathon. Walking the Smith Field House track regularly, I know how it feels to walk to the point where you just don't feel it anymore and you could keep going for a while. But then you remember that you chose to walk there and have to walk home, so you save enough energy for the walk back. But hey, you've been walking already for a half hour, just at the track, not including the walk there, and it's actually not too shabby so long as there is consistency in the exercise. I hope that made some sense.
I definitely believe in God. Believe in Christ, too. Oh yeah, and I'm a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. We're known in popular media as "Mormons." I am an active, single, female member of the Church. And I'm fine with that. I grew up in the midst of a cultural salad bowl, and I love to learn about other cultures, religions, thinking patterns. I agree with Dale Carnegie that a great way to make and keep friends is not to criticize. So, I'm going to follow that as much as I can.
For me, Chicago is a chance to start over. I've lived in Provo since September 2006 continuously. Before that, it was hop-scotching from Northern Virginia (DC) to Provo following high school graduation and acceptance to BYU; Provo back and forth to DC for a few years for school, then to Los Angeles for a mission, then back to DC and hopping between DC and Provo a couple times more (school, death in family), and then Manhattan (LOVE NYC!) for internship, back to Provo, and I have been here since then. Chicago was right back in 2006. It's still right now, even five years later.
So why Chicago? My first Master's degree. It took me a long time to get done with the Bachelor's degree, and while I graduated a few years ago, it's time to get gone. My first Masters degree will be in Public History at Loyola. I've only been to Chicago for a combined total of six hours, but I can't help it. I may sound nuts, but I LOVE that town! My first experience with it was driving through/past it on I-80 my first time to college, and my first time west of West Virginia. Babe in the woods, so to speak, my whole family for a few hundred years has been on the East Coast. Why leave? I needed to go to BYU. Cost was a factor, but God was, too. If you're not a fan of God, you're probably not going to like this blog. He's my bud and I do a lot of things based upon what I feel is the right thing.
Driving past Chicago that Saturday, the place freaked me out! I had never seen that much traffic going that fast and moving in every direction possible. Granted, I could barely drive, but come on, people! And thank heavens, I wasn't driving then. Thank you, Dad.
Next time passing Chicago was 2006, and I got there at 2 AM and was stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic. I'm still wondering how that happens at 2AM. Couldn't figure out whether a concert had gotten out, or what. The guy who was riding out with me (just a nice guy and we were both going to BYU from Northern Virginia) and I stopped on the side of the road for about 20 minutes thinking that it would clear out. Nope. Not a bit. Got back into that insane asylum line, and to this day, I have no idea why there was that much traffic at a crazy hour of the night/morning.
My most recent experience with the town, I had a layover at Midway. I was on the way to my grandpa's funeral last August, and by then I had started making plans to come to Chicago and had gotten into grad school. I deferred a year to try to make money. Maybe not the smartest move with the economy in 2010, but I was doing my best. My impression of Chicago after doing a little research was a place where people were competent. They knew their stuff. Most of my time in Provo, I've felt like people got things done at their own pace, and it was usually a day later than I wanted it done. I'm not an A-type personality. I just like things to move when it can. Making progress is a good thing, I hope. Even at the airport awaiting the flight, I was not disappointed. Completely competent people worked their magic, and I was just charmed. Yeah, even at the airport. Kind of amazing.
So here I am, 22 Days to Go until I move out there. None of my stuff is packed. I have started sorting things out, but I need to build boxes and start getting things better organized. I will admit to being nervous about something until it is done. That's just how I am. I have had enough disappointments in life that until something is finished and over with, it's not done. Yes, I have faith, but you have to work with grace, not simply chancing something to a lack of diligence. At least, that's my thinking on the matter. So, while I am in a "happy bubble" about how I feel about the town and how much I look forward to making new friends and simply being real about life, I'm still under the stress of realizing that there is a whole lot involved here. I'm not going into this blind at all. I have a condo reserved, two roommates, a branch president, and institute directors expecting me, a friend to help me get myself and my stuff out there (ROAD TRIP!) and I'm registered for classes at my next university. It's so strange to refer to BYU as the "undergrad" but now it is. *insert cheering here*
I am the first woman on my Mom's side of the family to graduate from a Bachelor's program, and the first to even attempt a Master's. On my Dad's side, my grandaunt has a doctorate, so... can't really go too much farther than that. My decision about the Masters degree or How that whole idea got going: Once when I was talking with my Grandpa at a cafe over the Christmas Break after a death in the family, I was trying to figure out what I wanted to do with the rest of my life after college. I knew that Chicago was the right place to be, and he didn't have any problems with it. He'd been there before and offered what he knew, and it was all stuff that made me really pleased. I wanted to do grad work, and I was thinking about a doctorate, and asked him what he thought of that.What did he think of having a doctor in the family? He grinned and said that he didn't mind that.
He was a high school drop out for fighting in World War II until his kids went to college and he graduated with his Bachelor's degree when they did. Then he added an MBA and kept going back to school, like a hobby, while he worked. At least, that's what I heard happened. He spent retirement adding more degrees. I'm not sure how many he had by the time he deceased, but at his most recent graduation for a BFA after my Grandma passed, he was the oldest graduate. He was glad that he could pass for someone ten years younger. Rock on, Grandpa! AWESOME!
When I mentioned my aspirations at the Public History route, and that my undergrad only had one class in it, (I took it. That's how I got the idea for doing a Masters in it. I loved it.) and I didn't think that I could do a doctorate without more background and would probably need a Masters first, he agreed with my line of thinking. That, and a conversation with a friend, MK, changed my perspectives about Chicago. After a blessing in 2006, the choice to do grad school in Chicago became cemented.
It's been anything but an easy road to get here. Three years after graduating with my Bachelor's degree, I was admitted last year, deferred, and although I was originally accepted for a double Masters program to study Library Information Archival Science at a partnering university in Chicago in addition to the Public History program, I deferred too long for the LIAS program. I will be re-applying there once I get to Chicago. Cross your fingers that I can get in again!
For the meantime, however, I have enough to worry about with just getting there in the first place. I plan to try to sell or give away most of my room/stuff. I have to keep most of my books since they're reference works (plus or minus) and being a genealogist, there are just a lot of papers that come with the territory. We're bred to be archivists, but not pack rats. Yes, I have a lot of stuff. I think that I take after my Dad who takes after his mother in this respect. She grew up in the Depression and due to scarcity, tended to hoard. I have diluted tendencies for this. However, I also realize that I can get rid of things and other people will most likely use them or pass them along. After six years of wondering how or when I can help others with some material goods, I am thoroughly ready to sort and then say, "Go for it!" meaning take it away and use it.
My future roommates sent me a video of the condo, and I am glad to pare down. Although I am trying to plan out how things may work out, it's always better to go for less than more, even when you're starting out and in penurious "Church mouse" mode.
It's overtime to call it a night now. Here's to my first public blog. Enjoy!
I feel like the vast majority of my life, if not my whole life has been leading up this move. Chronologically-speaking, (duh, it has!) but otherwise, it's like there's this huge weight on my shoulders and whenever I even think about moving, my heart gets lighter. I just want to start grinning and boogie! I may be nervous about the actual move itself (how in the world am I EVER going to pay for the moving truck? Yeah, no idea.) but I am working hard and doing my best.
Leaving this place on the one hand feels like I'm taking a shower after a good long marathon. Walking the Smith Field House track regularly, I know how it feels to walk to the point where you just don't feel it anymore and you could keep going for a while. But then you remember that you chose to walk there and have to walk home, so you save enough energy for the walk back. But hey, you've been walking already for a half hour, just at the track, not including the walk there, and it's actually not too shabby so long as there is consistency in the exercise. I hope that made some sense.
I definitely believe in God. Believe in Christ, too. Oh yeah, and I'm a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. We're known in popular media as "Mormons." I am an active, single, female member of the Church. And I'm fine with that. I grew up in the midst of a cultural salad bowl, and I love to learn about other cultures, religions, thinking patterns. I agree with Dale Carnegie that a great way to make and keep friends is not to criticize. So, I'm going to follow that as much as I can.
For me, Chicago is a chance to start over. I've lived in Provo since September 2006 continuously. Before that, it was hop-scotching from Northern Virginia (DC) to Provo following high school graduation and acceptance to BYU; Provo back and forth to DC for a few years for school, then to Los Angeles for a mission, then back to DC and hopping between DC and Provo a couple times more (school, death in family), and then Manhattan (LOVE NYC!) for internship, back to Provo, and I have been here since then. Chicago was right back in 2006. It's still right now, even five years later.
So why Chicago? My first Master's degree. It took me a long time to get done with the Bachelor's degree, and while I graduated a few years ago, it's time to get gone. My first Masters degree will be in Public History at Loyola. I've only been to Chicago for a combined total of six hours, but I can't help it. I may sound nuts, but I LOVE that town! My first experience with it was driving through/past it on I-80 my first time to college, and my first time west of West Virginia. Babe in the woods, so to speak, my whole family for a few hundred years has been on the East Coast. Why leave? I needed to go to BYU. Cost was a factor, but God was, too. If you're not a fan of God, you're probably not going to like this blog. He's my bud and I do a lot of things based upon what I feel is the right thing.
Driving past Chicago that Saturday, the place freaked me out! I had never seen that much traffic going that fast and moving in every direction possible. Granted, I could barely drive, but come on, people! And thank heavens, I wasn't driving then. Thank you, Dad.
Next time passing Chicago was 2006, and I got there at 2 AM and was stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic. I'm still wondering how that happens at 2AM. Couldn't figure out whether a concert had gotten out, or what. The guy who was riding out with me (just a nice guy and we were both going to BYU from Northern Virginia) and I stopped on the side of the road for about 20 minutes thinking that it would clear out. Nope. Not a bit. Got back into that insane asylum line, and to this day, I have no idea why there was that much traffic at a crazy hour of the night/morning.
My most recent experience with the town, I had a layover at Midway. I was on the way to my grandpa's funeral last August, and by then I had started making plans to come to Chicago and had gotten into grad school. I deferred a year to try to make money. Maybe not the smartest move with the economy in 2010, but I was doing my best. My impression of Chicago after doing a little research was a place where people were competent. They knew their stuff. Most of my time in Provo, I've felt like people got things done at their own pace, and it was usually a day later than I wanted it done. I'm not an A-type personality. I just like things to move when it can. Making progress is a good thing, I hope. Even at the airport awaiting the flight, I was not disappointed. Completely competent people worked their magic, and I was just charmed. Yeah, even at the airport. Kind of amazing.
So here I am, 22 Days to Go until I move out there. None of my stuff is packed. I have started sorting things out, but I need to build boxes and start getting things better organized. I will admit to being nervous about something until it is done. That's just how I am. I have had enough disappointments in life that until something is finished and over with, it's not done. Yes, I have faith, but you have to work with grace, not simply chancing something to a lack of diligence. At least, that's my thinking on the matter. So, while I am in a "happy bubble" about how I feel about the town and how much I look forward to making new friends and simply being real about life, I'm still under the stress of realizing that there is a whole lot involved here. I'm not going into this blind at all. I have a condo reserved, two roommates, a branch president, and institute directors expecting me, a friend to help me get myself and my stuff out there (ROAD TRIP!) and I'm registered for classes at my next university. It's so strange to refer to BYU as the "undergrad" but now it is. *insert cheering here*
I am the first woman on my Mom's side of the family to graduate from a Bachelor's program, and the first to even attempt a Master's. On my Dad's side, my grandaunt has a doctorate, so... can't really go too much farther than that. My decision about the Masters degree or How that whole idea got going: Once when I was talking with my Grandpa at a cafe over the Christmas Break after a death in the family, I was trying to figure out what I wanted to do with the rest of my life after college. I knew that Chicago was the right place to be, and he didn't have any problems with it. He'd been there before and offered what he knew, and it was all stuff that made me really pleased. I wanted to do grad work, and I was thinking about a doctorate, and asked him what he thought of that.What did he think of having a doctor in the family? He grinned and said that he didn't mind that.
He was a high school drop out for fighting in World War II until his kids went to college and he graduated with his Bachelor's degree when they did. Then he added an MBA and kept going back to school, like a hobby, while he worked. At least, that's what I heard happened. He spent retirement adding more degrees. I'm not sure how many he had by the time he deceased, but at his most recent graduation for a BFA after my Grandma passed, he was the oldest graduate. He was glad that he could pass for someone ten years younger. Rock on, Grandpa! AWESOME!
When I mentioned my aspirations at the Public History route, and that my undergrad only had one class in it, (I took it. That's how I got the idea for doing a Masters in it. I loved it.) and I didn't think that I could do a doctorate without more background and would probably need a Masters first, he agreed with my line of thinking. That, and a conversation with a friend, MK, changed my perspectives about Chicago. After a blessing in 2006, the choice to do grad school in Chicago became cemented.
It's been anything but an easy road to get here. Three years after graduating with my Bachelor's degree, I was admitted last year, deferred, and although I was originally accepted for a double Masters program to study Library Information Archival Science at a partnering university in Chicago in addition to the Public History program, I deferred too long for the LIAS program. I will be re-applying there once I get to Chicago. Cross your fingers that I can get in again!
For the meantime, however, I have enough to worry about with just getting there in the first place. I plan to try to sell or give away most of my room/stuff. I have to keep most of my books since they're reference works (plus or minus) and being a genealogist, there are just a lot of papers that come with the territory. We're bred to be archivists, but not pack rats. Yes, I have a lot of stuff. I think that I take after my Dad who takes after his mother in this respect. She grew up in the Depression and due to scarcity, tended to hoard. I have diluted tendencies for this. However, I also realize that I can get rid of things and other people will most likely use them or pass them along. After six years of wondering how or when I can help others with some material goods, I am thoroughly ready to sort and then say, "Go for it!" meaning take it away and use it.
My future roommates sent me a video of the condo, and I am glad to pare down. Although I am trying to plan out how things may work out, it's always better to go for less than more, even when you're starting out and in penurious "Church mouse" mode.
It's overtime to call it a night now. Here's to my first public blog. Enjoy!
In Process
I am the author of this blog. It's a public blog, just used to describe daily happenings. If you like it, great. If not, that's fine, too. I just want a place where I can talk about life when I want to. I'm not exactly looking for it to be ground-breaking or amazing. Keeping this thing simple will help me explore life. I'm making it public in case anyone wants to read it. The only censorship is my own. Take it as you will. Consider this your main (or only) disclaimer. I will be writing from my heart and my head. No guarantees about what will come out. Here we go!
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