Leaps & Baby Steps

Good.

2011-02-07T10:56:00.000-08:00

The other day I called up an old friend, on a whim, just to see how she was doing. We chatted for a few minutes, and though it has been over a year and a half since I last saw her, it was like we hadn't missed a beat. She's that kind of person, so I wasn't surprised. I told her a bit about how life was for me, now, and then she shared something that's been rolling around in my head ever since.

"Life is good." She said, "I love my kids, I love my job, I love my husband. One day just rolls right into the next, and that's all I can ask for. I'm very blessed. Life is good."

One day rolling right into the next is something most people dread. We're always trying to break up the monotony, to seek something more, to break free from our boring old days that roll right into each other.

But really, I think this woman has something. While we shouldn't be boring, we should be glad for days that roll. We should strive for excellence, and adventure, absolutely, but also we should strive to be content. We should strive to love our job - boring or not, and our kids (if we have them), and our lives.

Paul (that guy from the Bible) said in Philippians 4, "I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want." This verse (12), is one I heard many years ago, and try to grab onto when I can remember.

Because the truth is, my life IS good. REALLY REALLY GOOD! I have bad days, of course, and I'll admit that those bad days become more frequent in the winter. But even in those bad days, there are always good moments. I always have a roof over my head, clothes on my back, food to eat, and people to lean on. Even more than that - I have heating in my house, a car to drive, and money to buy sweet tea. Most of the world goes without these basic things, so who am I to complain about traffic, or a pain in the back of my leg, or a sucky day on the job? Instead, I should be thankful to even HAVE a job.

This all is not to say that I have perfected the art of being happy, or even content, all the time. I am far from being Paul. I am often whiney, negative, and melodramatic. But I am working on it. And with this comment from my friend, I get one step closer. It is no coincidence, my friends, that the verse following Philippians 4:12, is this: "I can do all this through him who gives me strength."

You'd be amazed, really.

Tomorrow.

2010-10-06T19:40:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow will be six months exactly since the day of Jim's accident.

How do I express the amount of change that has happened in the past six months? How do I explain how my life has been changed by HIS accident? I don't want to personalize someone else's tragedy - I hate when people do that. But I feel like it might be okay to explain the effect Jim (and Sweetie) have had on my life lately. I'll start with a little history.

I met Jim Kleyle sometime in 2007, I believe. I had met Sweetie years before that, as we had a couple of mutual friends, and I had liked her immediately, what with her friendly attitude and her sweet smile. The first time I actually remember meeting her husband was at our friend Randy's house. A large group of us had been invited over for dinner, and afterwards someone broke out the game Catchphrase. While everyone else in the room sat eagerly on the edge of their seats throughout the game, Jim reclined in his chair, insisting that we keep the Steelers game on TV. And whenever it was his turn, he took his time, usually making the rest of us crack up with the way he explained what his "catchphrase" word was. I knew instantly I was going to like this guy - he was funny, and he was cool.

I must have seen him sporadically over the next couple of years, mainly when my Nametwin (aka Rachel Wallace) would bring me along with her to The Kleyle Manor, for parties or summer afternoons of Rock Band and movies.

Then, in 2009, I was brought on as a crew member for Port Tobacco Player's production of Sweeney Todd, for which Jim directed, and Sweetie produced. My job in the production was small: make sure no one died while entering through the trap doors leading under the stage. But because my job with this show was so minor, I had a lot of time to sit around and talk to people, including Jim - who would always sneak back stage during the show, only to be thrown out ten minutes later by our stage manager. It was through this production that I got a little bit closer to the Kleyles, and also through this production that I saw Jim's buttcrack more times than I care to remember (when his pants would ride down as he stood up or bent over).

And though we saw each other scarcely through the winter of 2009-2010, I will never forget receiving a phone call on April 8th that broke the news to me of what had happened to him the day before. I won't say much more about that day, but I will say I was glad to be a Christian, and have a God to go to in prayer.

Like most people who knew the Kleyles, I kept up with their progress in the months following the accident via blog and facebook updates, shooting them the occasional text or facebook comment every once in a while. And after what seemed like forever, they came home.

Since their return to Southern Maryland, I have spent quite a bit of time with them at The Manor. It has been nothing but a privilege and a joy to be a part of their lives. I have seen many good days, and a few not-so-great ones, all taken in stride. I have also been priviliged to have witnessed a few accomplishments and milestones, both big and small.

Jim is one of the funniest people I know, and I can't tell you how often, in my time spent with him, I have laughed until I cried (I've got some great stories). He is also one of the kindest, most loving people I know. And it doesn't take long to figure out that Sweetie and he genuinely love each other; their marriage is truly one to admire.

I have learned so much about life and love from what has happened to the Kleyles. I have learned not to take people for granted, but to tell them "I love you," and SHOW them how important they are in my life. I have learned to complain a lot less. I have learned to enjoy the little things, and to be GRATEFUL for them. And I have learned what is important, and what is absolutely not.

I am so grateful to have the Kleyles as two of my dearest friends. I thank God for them, and for miracles.

Thoughts Like Clouds

2010-08-22T16:17:00.000-07:00

I've been trying for WEEKS now to compose a post worthy of letting the public (small public that it may be) read. It's all thanks to Bob, who stopped me one day at a rehearsal for The Producers. He named a date back in December (I think), and when I stared blankly at him he told me, "That was the date of your last blog entry." I had NO idea anyone was even paying attention, but it prompted me to want to write something.

The problem is, I have a hard time with these posts. My thoughts are comparable to clouds, which may start off looking like a bunny or an airplane or something quite tangible, but within a few minutes they sprawl out all over the sky.

Still, I feel compelled to post.

Life has been interesting lately. I haven't been working a lot this summer, and I can't say I was too torn up about that. I had enough money from babysitting/dogsitting/housesitting to get by just fine, and I enjoyed mornings sleep in and a few afternoons laying poolside. No vacations this summer - I couldn't pull that one off, but I imagine the fall will have some exciting things in store.

One thing I can say is that I'm learning to be grateful for what I have. This lesson will probably be one that takes quite some time. I tend to be a bit negative at times, often harping on the minor annoyances instead of the major joys. Still, I press on, and I try every day. Not that I succeed always, or realistically even half the time, but I'd like to think I'm getting better at it.

A very good friend of mine was involved in an accident this past spring, and though it was most life-changing for him and his wife, it was also a little life changing for those around him. I believe it taught us all to be grateful for each other, and for what we have. Be grateful for each day that we wake up and have another day to live. We all carry our burdens, both physical and emotional, but we should carry them with courage and with perserverance. For it is OUR choice on whether we let them weigh us down or make us stronger. I'll be the first to admit that sometimes I succumb, and I feel nothing but strangled by those burdens. But it's never too long before I look around and realize just how good I have it.

So, maybe I'll start posting a little more regularly on here now. Or maybe I won't. I guess we'll see.

2010-01-21T19:32:00.000-08:00

Today I:

-flat-ironed my hair with the best flat iron in the world.
-taught a five-year-old to count by 5's (sort of).
-ate some really good spaghetti.
-got some quotes on car insurance (BLECK!)
-bowled on the Wii & did a pretty good job.

Also, today I drank FIVE bottles of water. That's a new record. My bladder is cursing me, and my skin is thanking me. To think, I bought all this Burt's Bees stuff a couple months ago, and drinking water has improved my skin way more than those things have.

Overall I can count today as a success.

Ramblings.

2010-01-09T07:27:00.000-08:00

I've been pretty neglectful of this blog. To tell you the truth, I'm still figuring it all out. For years I've written short stories and long ones, and tiny blog entries are hard for me. It's hard for me to start them, hard for me to wrap them up, hard for me to write something short enough for someone to want to read, with enough substance for someone to want to read. But I'm working on it.

One of my goals this year is to get a camera, and that's a goal I plan to accomplish sooner rather than later. I'm hoping to add some pictures to this blog once that happens, and maybe that will get the ball rolling.

Speaking of goals, I'm doing pretty good. I've been working out daily, thanks to my wonderful friend Gabe, who holds me accountable and makes fun of the workout videos with me. I've discovered it is MUCH easier to succeed at working out when someone else is doing it with you.

I'm pretty good with where my life is right now. I'm excited about what 2010 has to bring to me - hopefully some pretty awesome challenges, a new camera, and at least one trip to somewhere I've never been before. Oh, and a decent looking blog? ...I hope.

Goals.

2009-12-28T19:32:00.000-08:00

I don't ever set resolutions, because I pretty much figure it's setting myself up for failure. However.

This year is different.

After a serious of fortunate events, as well as a couple butt-kicking conversations, I have several goals for 2010. I'm determined to keep them. ...I hope. Here's the list.

1.) Commit to God. This one is pretty simply explained, and yet probably not as easily done. Still, with all that God has done for me in 2009, I'm looking forward to doing a few things for him in 2010. It's an amazing journey I'm on with Him, and I am so excited about the next leg of this journey.

2.) Get healthy! While losing some weight is the main goal of this, I'm trying NOT to follow in my family's footsteps and have an almost-heart attack at the age of 40. Sweet tea is the first thing to go. Second will be fast food. I'm dreading this already, but looking forward to the feeling I remember from when I made these changes a few years back.

3.) Buy a camera & get a passport. Passport so I can go somewhere fun. Camera so I can document that fun place, when I get there.

4.) Save money! 2009 wasn't such a good year for this, but I proved to myself I AM capable of using my paycheck wisely. In the new year, I'm eager to be even more wise about the things I spend my money on.

5.) Keep my car clean. I'm pretty sure this was my Nametwin's goal in 2009, and at the time I thought it wasn't possible for me to do. Now that I'm not constantly toting small children around, I'm thinking it's a possibility!

6.) Be better at my job.

7.) Be better at my life. Not sure how I'm going to accomplish this one, but trust me: I'll find a way.

Christmas.

2009-12-27T17:40:00.001-08:00

Merry Christmas! A few days late, but who is counting?

This year was the first year in my entire life, I'm pretty sure, that I stayed PUT for the entire day. ...Except for that trip to Wawa. But other than that one mile trip, I did NOT run the roads on Christmas. It was pretty nice.

Amongst the many wonderful gifts I was blessed with this year, I received a belt that belonged to someone else (courtesy of a five-year-old). But I apparently got the better gift, because the fourteen-year-old rightful owner of the belt received an apple in a box. And while that may not seem like a terrible gift, please take into consideration that the apple had been in that box for a good two weeks. I don't think I've ever laughed so hard.

It's been a good Christmas season, between the beautiful candlelight service at church on Christmas Eve, all of the excited little children in my life, and the fact that the children living in this house have off school for two weeks. We've already taken many trips to Wawa and Rite Aid. I've introduced them to several of my favorite restaurants (Chipotle & Noodles, mainly). And yesterday evening we had a girls night wherein we went to Flat Iron Farms (you should go too! Christmas light overload & a super cool petting zoo) followed by Chick-fil-a. It's good time living with four sisters. Lots of laughing and crazy jokes and hair styling.

Hope all of you readers (all two of you) had a wonderful Christmas as well. I for one am super thankful for Jesus making this holiday possible.

Branching.

2009-12-16T14:26:00.000-08:00

About a little under two years ago (not exactly sure of the timing), I was teaching in the preschool room of children's church at New Life, and by that point it was an every Sunday kind of thing for me. Generally I went to 9:15 service, and then walked across the parking lot and down the hall to the children's wing in the main church. There I would chat with Brenda until the kids came flooding in at 11:15.

As 11:15 is always the biggest service at New Life, there was never a shortage of kids in preschool. Some weeks we had so many that we literally filled the room to its ratio capacity. Those were fun weeks.

And within that group of 20ish kids, some of them would come and go. Some moved up to kindergarten, while others graduated from nursery and headed into our room. Some simply moved away or stopped attending New Life (or chose to sit with their parents in "Big Kid Church"), while new ones joined our group. It was not unusual to have one or two or more new faces in the room on Sundays. And that's why I didn't give much thought to the two little faces that showed up one week.

They were sisters, a year apart. Both of them had names that started with C, and we used to mix them up sometimes. For a while, we would accidentally call the older girl Candace, since her name is so close in pronunciation. And there they were, "Candace" and "Crissy". Every week they came, usually being released at the end of service to an older sibling (they had two older sisters) or a grandma, while their parents chatted out in the foyer of the church. Back then, I had no idea.

I have very little memory of those two little girls when I knew them at New Life. I know that at some point Brenda told me they were the new pastor's children, explaining that our church had brought in another pastor with plans to have him head up a new branch of our church in the next county. I paid little attention to this. Yes, I was excited about our church branching off, but it'd happened before and I knew that I would in fact NOT being going with this new branch.

And many months later, when I followed Brenda's family to that new branch's first Sunday service, I was absolutely sure that I was only going to check it out and say hi to Brenda. That was it.

Cut to two-ish years later. I pull into the driveway, get out of my car, and am instantly greeted by two little girls - those same two who slipped into my Sunday school class without much notice all those many months ago.

"HI RACHEL!" They shout, as one lifts her arms in a gesture for me to pick her up. With the smallest one on my hip, we walk into the house together. This is a scene that has repeated itself several times over, and I can't help but smile. It's all I can do not to praise Jesus out loud, some times.

Never would have thought, two years ago, when I met these girls for the first time, that I'd be living right across the hall from them. I had no idea that in the mornings they would come into my room to help me get ready for work, and that in the night, I could hear them fall out of bed and go to remedy the situation.

I had no clue that the two teenage sisters who signed them out of class on Sunday mornings would become my friends - accompanying me to Wawa on Sunday mornings and looking up funny youtube videos late at night.

I had no idea that that pastor & his wife who came to Maryland to help us with a church plant would later be so instrumental in my life.

I had no way of knowing, all that time ago that those people would later become my family.

Walls.

2009-12-08T13:46:00.000-08:00

People have said that when God closes a door he opens a window. Yes, and sometimes he also closes that door in order to rip down the wall and let in some sunlight. True story.

Let's get down to business.

How was your weekend? Good, really? You put up your Christmas tree? Awesome. Got some shopping done? Great. What did I do? Oh not much, just moved into my pastor's house, discovered a sense of community, and got over myself.

No, really.

In an unexpected turn of events, I left my dad's house to move to Mechanicsville - a location central to everything that ever happens in my entire life, the end. I could go into more detail about how this all happened, but it would probably take a couple of days, or at the very least - hours.

I am now living amongst five kids, a dog who doesn't trust me (yet!), a couple whom I've pretty much looked up to since meeting them, and a Grandma who oversees it all (and who knows the exact number of people who show up to church every week).

This morning I woke up to the sounds of a child whispering (as loudly as one can whisper) in the hallway, and when I opened the door I found her pressed up against the door, shoving pennies underneath and knocking quietly. I had to laugh at the sight of her little pajama-clad body, laying sideways on the floor, her bright eyes staring up at me. What a great thing to wake up to. She even told me I could keep the pennies, but I couldn't except such a generous gift.

My life is pretty much a testimony now, or at least I'd like to believe it is. A testimony of the fact that yes, God does indeed answers prayers. He's certainly answered a good hundred of mine in the past ten days. And while many areas of my life remain a work in progress, things are really good.

This weekend was filled the brim with love, generosity, Christmas Spirit, and JESUS.

Good times. More to follow.

Back in the SOMD.

2009-11-25T16:36:00.000-08:00

So it's definitely been a while since I posted. The last time I wrote something on blogger, I was in Oregon. Back in Maryland, it didn't seem quite right to post at first. Well, that and my life is insane.

November 29th will make it one month since I've returned home, and what a wild ride I've been on in these past few weeks. Within one day of returning home, I discovered some very disturbing news, and in making this discovery I successfully turned my life upside down. That next week was kind of depressing, not going to lie. With no car, no job, and no real home, I felt hopeless. And then I got swine flu. The End. Just kidding - about the end, not the swine flu.

Thankfully, Halloween weekend was amazing. I reconnected with a lot of people I'd been missing while out in Oregon. These are people whom I would do anything for, and I'm pretty sure they feel the same. I can't tell you how good it was to be surrounded by these folks for an entire weekend. It was exactly what I needed.

And then, in a matter of sheer days, life got back on track. I can attribute this to nothing but God, and the talks we've been having recently. Don't worry, He doesn't answer me back like any human being would. ...That would be weird, and you'd think I'm crazy. I'd probably think the same. Instead, He answers me in other ways.

A week after being uprooted, I had a car, a job, and two places to live. I'm staying with my dad for now. It's a little bit of a hike, but hey! I'm not complaining. There are so many people out there without a roof over their head, I can handle paying a bridge toll to get back to my place of residence.

I'm working as a nanny again. The children are wonderful - very respectful, well-behaved kids. The days go by really fast, and I am constantly learning things from them. Their parents are great as well, two people who truly love their kids and have their crap together. I've had some great conversations with the mom, and twice they've bought my Chick-fil-a - now do you see how awesome they are?!

And my sister sold me her car, which I'm in love with. It looks like crap, but I absolutely love clunkers. And really, it's not a clunker. It just looks like one, thanks to a factory defect in paint. Great job, Chrysler. But me and Car-Car (that's its name) have bonded well in the past few weeks, and I am feeling so fortunate to have been able to purchase a.) from my sister and b.) cheap!

This Thanksgiving I can be nothing but thankful. Sure, my life could stand some improvements - most of which are only going to take time - but I have a really great life. The people I surround myself with on a daily basis are nothing short of wonderful. In the past few weeks I have realized that, as well as just how awesome God can be. I've certainly grown a lot in my faith this month.

All in all, I'm feeling pretty good. I'm hoping to start posting more in the future, but I'm not making any promises. And in any case, I probably have zero people left reading this, after my month-long hiatus.

Happy Thanksgiving, all!

Ticket.

2009-10-22T21:16:00.000-07:00

News has been leaking out slowly. I was going to wait to post this, but I guess I'll do it now.

I'm headed back to Maryland in six days. October 29th, touch down at 4:01pm. Just in time for Halloween (including festivities with church and theatre friends), and my little missy's fifth birthday!

More on all of this later though. When I actually feel like posting.

And it was all yellow.

2009-10-14T01:43:00.001-07:00

Not only was today my birthday, but it was also my first official day of work. Yesterday I went in for a few hours, but only filled out paperwork, and today I actually hung out with the kids. This is all background info. Now for a small, related story:

Last night a fortune cookie told me to wear yellow today, in order to have a good day. And even though I don't believe in superstition, it is fun.

So I listened to the fortune cookie and wore a yellow shirt.

Bad news: At about 3:30pm a baby threw up all over the yellow shirt.

Good news: It wasn't actually my yellow shirt. It was Whit's.

Explaining that to Whit was fun. "It's just like milk. It's spit-up. It's like milk. I'll wash it. It's like milk."

But technically, that fortune cookie was right!

Birthday

2009-10-13T01:00:00.000-07:00

"What they don’t understand about birthdays and what they never tell you is that when you’re eleven, you’re also ten, and nine, and eight, and seven, and six, and five, and four, and three, and two, and one. And when you wake up on your eleventh birthday you expect to feel eleven, but you don’t. You open your eyes and everything’s just like yesterday, only it’s today. And you don’t feel eleven at all. You feel like you’re still ten. And you are—underneath the year that makes you eleven.

Like some days you might say something stupid, and that’s the part of you that’s still ten. Or maybe some days you might need to sit on your mama’s lap because you’re scared, and that’s the part of you that’s five. And maybe one day when you’re all grown up maybe you will need to cry like if you’re three, and that’s okay. "
Excerpt from: Eleven, by Sandra Cisneros

Today is my birthday. Since it's past midnight and all now.

I have already danced to my birthday song. Every year since turning eighteen, I pick a really ridiculous song to dance to.

18 was My Humps, by Black Eyed Peas.
19 was Sexy Back, by Justin Timberlake - in Rachel's car, in my driveway.
20 was Storybook Story, by Marc Cohn (Princess Bride theme song). Because it happened to be the DVD we were watching.
21 was Float On, by Modest Mouse. And by that, I mean actually someone played it on Rock Band while four of my friends made up a song about my birthday to the tune.
22 was a song by Jerimiah. Or however you spell his name. Song starts with Birthday. And ends in an expletive. Not that this song holds any truth for me. I just felt like since it had Birthday in the title, why the heck not?

I don't really feel twenty-two, though I'm not sure what twenty-two feels like. I feel like Sandra Cisneros got it. People tell me 22 is not a big deal, and it's not old, and I know that. But I feel like Eleven.

A couple of weeks ago it hit me that, hey! I'm going to be 22 soon! And I went, WHOA! Where did that come from?!

It's like those 22 pennies are rattling around in my tin Band-aid box, and it's 22 pennies, big deal! 18 was adult. 19 was getting to say, "I'm nineteen, but I'm old for my age." (RENT). 20 was not a teenager. 21 was that magical age that really didn't matter to me, but I got a new license! 22 is...?

22 is the same as 23. And 24. And 25, and then you're almost 30. And it's not that I consider 30 old by any stretch of the imagination. It's just that it feels like the train going from Seattle to Portland, and though it stops a bunch of times at meaningless stops along the way, it's going to get to Portland and that's it. That's the end of the line. The train will shut down and everyone will get off, because they're working on the lines ahead, and you can't go any further (true story).

Maybe this is what birthdays really are. Maybe I was supposed to get this at 19, but it just came late, and now I'm making up for lost time by having a quarter life crisis. Maybe I'm not making any sense at all. Probably that one.

Do birthdays lose their magic at 22? Or am I just having a moment?

In any case, birthdays are good. I have plans to go out to eat, go see FAME (yes, I'm twelve, thanks), and eat chocolate cake. Whit even bought me some super awesome candles. So I am, in fact, happy about my birthday. It's just that I'm trying to figure out some things too.

Forgive me. It's 1:23am, and I'm having a birthday crisis.

Dear Seattle,

2009-10-12T20:38:00.000-07:00

Seattle, we need to talk. Do you want to sit down? Or would you rather stand? Am I making you awkward?

I just have to say, I think I'm in love. I'm in love with Pike's Place.

I'm mostly in love with your artists, who hang around Pike's Place.

Morrison Boomer

Slim Pickings

And while we're at it, I'm in love with Pike's Place, despite the insane crowds and the fact that we could barely even get inside Starbucks (first one ever).

I do want to say, kudos to you Pike Place Starbucks, and the fact that you look like just another Starbucks, not some huge mega store to honor the fact that you're the first one ever.

Yes, I'm even in love with Seattle Center, despite its overpriced-ness, and I'm especially in love with the Space Needle. In fact, I'm so in love that I didn't even think about how high it is (I generally think about falling when I'm up high), and I even braved the insanely cold outer deck.

I enjoyed "sneaking" up to the restaurant inside the Space Needle, standing at the door, and peeking in at the rotating floor. I also enjoyed making awkward jokes in the PACKED elevator on the way back down to Earth ("Glad you all smell so good." "I feel so close to all of you right now.")

ALSO. I enjoyed flirting with like ten random really cute dudes throughout my adventure. I did not, however, enjoy finding out that most of them were married/taken/not gonna happen.

Overall, Seattle, you made my 22nd birthday weekend great. But I have to be honest. I'm not in love with you. I think I could be, given some time, but since my heart still belongs to a perfectly nice (albeit much less well-mannered than you) city on the East Coast, I'm going to have to let you down gently.

Let's not make this more difficult. It was GREAT while it lasted.

Sincerely,
Rachel

Stuck

2009-10-06T16:55:00.000-07:00

The little apartment workspace.

This afternoon, after waiting patiently, I called my future place of employment to let them know I had received the papers saying I was in fact not a danger to children, and that I could work at a daycare. I spoke to the ASSistant director, who told me that THEY had received the same papers on Friday, but hadn't had time to call me since then.

"Can I give you a call back in about a half an hour? I'm in a classroom right now." She asked. I told her of course, and went back to waiting.

TWO HOURS LATER. She calls me back. She asks me how I've been. I tell her I am excited to begin work, and she hesitates. In that tiny fraction of a second, I hear her hesitation and know.

What she goes on to tell me is that the position is now NOT full time. It is not even a set part time schedule. Are you ready for this? They're looking for a sub.

A sub in a daycare is exactly what a sub in a school is. On call. In fact, those words came out of her mouth. They want me to be on call, in case someone gets sick. This was NOT what I had been told three weeks ago.

And so, after three weeks of waiting patiently, of spending seventy five dollars of my own money to get checked out, of telling everyone I know that I would be working full time, very soon, "the dynamics have changed". Verbatim.

The thing that makes me angry is that she's known this for two weeks now, but held this information back from me. I know she knew this, because well over a week ago, when I spoke to her on the phone about whether or not I had the job, she mentioned that "dynamics are changing." She refused to give me specifics, saying she wanted to wait until everything had settled down. As it turns out, what she meant was that the position I was originally supposed to be hold had been eliminated.

Feeling myself becoming upset, I told her I'd have to call her back. She agreed, but then a moment later called me back to ask if I'd be willing to come down to the daycare tomorrow and have a meeting, so that she could explain exactly what this entails. I'm thinking it's pretty clear. Subbing. However, I agreed.

So tomorrow at ten am, my butt will be in the assistant director's chair.

And though this is difficult, I'm going to hold out until 11am to decide on what my next move will be.

Do I come home early? Do I stay here and work as a sub? Do I try to find a new job? Do I contact some people back home and see if positions they'd had are still open?

I did end up going and meeting with a pastor a few minutes after this all happened. The meeting had been set up since yesterday, but it was timing that I had received that phone call a half an hour before I was supposed to sit down with Pastor Joel & discuss church stuff. A half an hour in his office made me feel a little calmer, and a little better about what's going to happen next.

Still, I feel stuck. Like, wait a minute! This isn't how I'd planned things! WHAT?!

I guess I'm not good at surprises. It's something I'll have to work on. And me and God are going to be having some long conversations in the next few days. He's a good guy to go to.

In the mean time, I'm going to Seattle this weekend! Happy Birthday, to me.

2009-10-02T21:38:00.000-07:00

This weekend, while biking to one of my favorite spots in town, I came around the bend of trees and spotted a rainbow in the sky. Not just a little dinky rainbow. No, this one shot straight out of heaven, falling to earth not far from where I was pedaling. I could only see one side of it, but could make out the colors beautifully. Every single one was there, vividly displayed across the sky, splaying down from a harmless looking raincloud.

I had to stop and stare for a little. Wandering over to a nearby playground, I plopped myself down on the swings and pumped until I felt like I was flying. (Who invented swings? What was that thought bubble?)

I have to admit, three weeks into my adventure, I'm feeling a little cooped up. I won't be able to start work until late next week, at the earliest (more likely the week after). It's not that I'm really sad or homesick, but I must admit to feeling a little lonely sometimes.

Loneliness is a battle that I've been working out with God for the past year, maybe a little longer, with several very significant experiences pertaining to the subject. I feel much headway is being made, even now.

Today when I came across that rainbow, I couldn't help but smile. What a perfect opportunity to admire some of God's handiwork, as well as to remember his promise to Noah. Genesis, 9:12 tells me:

"And God said, 'This is the sign of the covenant I am making between me and you and every living creature with you, a covenant for all generations to come: 13 I have set my rainbow in the clouds, and it will be the sign of the covenant between me and the earth.'"

God makes promises. I know this to be true. He made a promise to Noah, who was a man of far greater virtue than I could ever hope to be. But luckily God also makes promises to people like me. Today, sitting on that swing-set, I was reminded of His promises, as well as his love. It was just what I needed.

Suddenly one more week out of work doesn't seem so unbearable. ...But really, hopefully I'll start soon!

A list.

2009-10-01T13:28:00.000-07:00

Charting a course atop my good friend, The Whale From the Aquarium.

While I don't have any big philosophical rants to give to you right now, I can offer a few amusing updates, in list form.

1.) Because this is too funny not to share. Last night Whit & I stopped by McDonald's (at my request, of course). Between the two of us we ordered a double cheeseburger meal, medium size, no pickles. A 10 piece chicken nugget. And a McFlurry. We received a single cheeseburger meal, large, with pickles. Two ten piece chicken nuggets. Two McChicken sandwiches (where did THAT come from?!), and the McFlurry. And that, is why I love McDonald's. We did end up giving the chicken sandwiches away to our neighbor, because really? Like we're going to eat all of that.

2.) I went to my first ever belly dancing class last night. FACT: belly dancing ISN'T this really easy thing where you move your hips two different ways and look cute doing it. No, really, it's not. I was aware of this fact before class, but painfully aware of it afterward. Emphasis on the word "painfully".

Class was fun, and our instructor is great. But. It's really hard, and makes your muscles sore, and also it makes you seriously question your ability to learn quickly, and whether or not you have any form of grace at al. This is going to be such a killer workout. I might not even have love handles when this is over! ...Or probably I will still have them, but they will be smaller love handles. Maybe like handles instead. I'm stoked.

3.) I should be able to start work some time before I die. Hopefully next week, but more likely the week after that. Because really, Oregon needs a good solid MONTH to make sure that I'm not a danger to children, and the FBI might need an entire season.

4.) Pesto The Cat is the worst cat in the entire world. In the past forty eight hours, he has tried to pull the bird cage off it's stand TWICE, attacked me under the blankets more times than I can count, and knocked an entire cup full of art supplies onto the floor at 3am. The cup - as well as his body - came crashing two feet to the floor, spilling scissors and markers and pens everywhere, for dramatic effect. And I laughed until I cried. Because that's what I do when bad things happen to Pesto.

Sorry if this post didn't make any sense. That's kind of how the inside of my brain works.

Saturday.

2009-09-26T19:59:00.000-07:00

Two things are happening in town today.

1.) OSU home game. I believe they're playing the Ducks? I've never seen so many people dressed in orange & black (but mostly orange) in my entire life. Also, I could put earplugs in my ears right now and still very clearly hear what is going on directly across the street.

2.) The Corvallis Fall Festival. 100ish tent shops of nothing I want to buy, along with some food I do. I ended up biking down there earlier today and listening to the bands. Right now they are having a four hour street dance, and I'm not entirely sure what that means. All I know is that there are a lot of people walking around in tie-dye skirts.

In conclusion, today is loud. Also, it can be summed up in four words: beer, football, and hippies. What a great combination.

Pictures.

2009-09-26T10:00:00.000-07:00

Rather than do a whole big post on my trip to the beach, which was actually pretty eventful, I'm just going to show you some pictures.

This was at the Tillamook Cheese Factory, which we toured. I was pretty stoked for the free cheese samples at the end.

And now for an unrelated story. Once Upon A Time, I got hired by a daycare here in Corvallis. It's really really nice, and the interview went well, and I'm really excited. Oh, but then there was this evil dragon that goes by the name of Child Care Division. Rather than blow firebreath, the evil dragon requires you to hand over $3 to submit a form, $10 to get fingerprinted, and $62 to get put on the Criminal Registry that says that you are in fact NOT a danger to children. Not only does the evil dragon take your money, but you can't even start work until all of these things are settled, and it could take about a month to do. All of this requires a lot of effort, as well as a bike ride downtown at 8am on a Saturday to stand in line so someone can rub my fingers in ink. REALLY?! NECESSARY?

Moral of the story: Maryland's system was better, and MUCH cheaper.
Other moral of the story: I'm going to be so bored by the time I start work.

The end. Aquarium pictures to come.

The Kindness of Strangers

2009-09-23T10:56:00.000-07:00

This weekend Whit and I ventured out to the ocean. As in, the West Coast ocean - the one I've never seen before. And while I had a great time and will post on it later, this post is actually about one particular aspect of the trip.

On Saturday morning, we slowly made our way out to what Whit described as one of her favorite antique stores. Upon walking in, I had to disagree with her. This was not an antique store. This was something much more magical. When I think of antiques, I think of old pieces of furniture that mean nothing to my life. This store was more like a treasure trove, filled to the brim.

The first half of it was jewelry. Strands of colored beads, pearls, rhinestones, and gold filled the store from top to bottom. Sewing mannequins were dressed only in brooches and sweater clips. Spinning racks boasted necklaces and bracelets. Turntables proudly displayed the finer of the items, many dating back to the twenties and thirties.

Continuing through the store, one would fine large displays of old hats, purses, and a few larger items. There was one small room set up to look like a kitchen, and every inch was covered in salt & pepper shakers, retro drinking glasses, and dinnerware decorated in all sorts of patterns. Another small room held children's games, most - if not all - from before my birth.

And everything was moderately priced.

In an effort to resist temptation, I made a purchase early. A set of pearls, and a hand-crafted salt & pepper shaker set - something Whit's apartment definitely needs. That was it, I'd made up my mind. And while Whit continued to peruse the store for treasure, I took up a conversation with one of the three other customers.

The store itself gives off a friendly atmosphere, and everyone engaged in one big conversation, for the most part. One of the women consulted Whit on how pieces of jewelry would look. The shop owner shared her knowledge. One lady shared little stories from her past, concerning jewelry and other things relevant to the store. This woman was older, maybe in her late 60s to early 70s. She had kind eyes and a knowing smile, and while her friends shopped she went back and forth from sitting on a little chair, to checking out a piece or two. She set her eyes on me even before I made my purchases, offering me some advice about collecting. I listened carefully to her wisdom, nodding in agreement as I decided about what I would buy.

Upon paying for my items, she engaged me again, giving me more details from a story she had confessed to the store minutes before. My eyes were wide in disbelief as she talked about belongings falling out of a moving truck in the dessert, running from the vehicle to try and regain what had been lost, and for the most part coming up empty. She opened her bag to show me the purse she had bought - one to add to her collection. I, in turn, showed her my items, tucked away in little pouches and pink wrapping paper.

Then, while I was looking at something - some set of plates or little hat, she approached me once again. This time she was holding something in her hand.

"This would look perfect on you!" She declared, holding out her hand. I saw that she had plucked a necklace from its stand. Two strands of black & clear beads, with little pretend pearls in between.

She was right. It was beautiful.

Alas, I had already bought a couple of things, and I didn't give much time to looking at anymore. I fawned over the necklace momentarily, before kindly dismissing it to the fact that I had already bought a necklace. And besides, it was thirty dollars. No way could I justify that. The woman said nothing as she walked away, and I looked back down at the trinkets I had been examining.

I looked up just in time to see her pull out her credit card and hand it over to the woman behind the counter. I watched carefully as she made the transaction, and my mouth dropped open when she looked back to explain it was for me. At once the shop was in an uproar, the other woman oohing and ahhing over what this woman had just done. I looked over at Whit, who was smiling at me.

Peggy, the shop owner, came from behind the counter at once to put the necklace on me. "Go look at it! She's right. It's perfect." She exclaimed. And it was.

My benefactor dismissed her kindness, saying it was just something about life, all the while with tears in her eyes. I welled up too, I must admit. It's not every day that a total stranger buys you a perfect necklace. I never did catch her name. But I know her face.

As we left the little store soon thereafter, throwing out another thank-you to the woman seated on the little chair, I hopped through the parking lot, my smile as bright as the day.

And that was the first of two incidents this past weekend that plucked my heart right out of Eastern Standard Time and plopped it down in the tiny little coastal town of Garibaldi.

Oh brother.

2009-09-23T10:43:00.000-07:00

Pesto the cat:

...is super annoying.

...is loud, in the middle of the night.

...tries to eat the birds, therefore scaring them senseless.

...bites AND scratches.

...is completely unpredictable.

...doesn't ever listen.

...can be oddly charming, at times!

...is starting to become my friend.

Side note: What's happening in that last picture is that I had washed my hair about an hour before, and had just taken it out of the ponytail. Being the total weirdo that he is, Pesto sidled over to take a whiff. Apparently Nature's Gate shampoo is the best smelling thing ever, because not only did he curl up on my back, but he proceeded to bite/eat/suck on my hair. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this is my life.

I'm back!

2009-09-22T15:12:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the delay in posts. Whit's computer got sick with a virus this weekend. Thanks to the lovely computer doctor down the street (and a lot of money), it's not back to normal (fingers crossed).

I've had a few exciting things happen lately, including a trip to the west coast beach and a job interview that went pretty well. However, I'm going to wait until I can really sit down and compose my thoughts in order to tell you all about those things.

I'm going to have a lot of time on my hands in the next few days though, so it shouldn't be long before I cook up another post.

PS: Two weeks ago when the drum line/band started practicing in the stadium across the street, the noise was exciting. Now? Kind of annoying. Just saying.

Painting, With All The Colors of the Wind (or, Rainbow)

2009-09-17T00:50:00.000-07:00

One thing I'm excited about now that I'm in Oregon is that I'm actually "doing stuff".

I used to complain in Maryland that I felt like my life consisted of work, church, sleep. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but I have been feeling for a while like I needed a little excitement. I guess packing up and moving across the country was exciting?

No job yet, but it's given me plenty of time to do things I never got the chance to do back home. I've been biking, and found some pretty cool parks and such - great spots to chill out, read, and feed the ducks. I've watched a few Disney movies (Pocahontas + 101 Dalmatians = complete life). I even signed up for a belly dancing class, which I'm super excited about. Dancing is another one of those things that I've always wanted to do, never gotten around to.

And then a couple afternoons ago, Whit and I made a few craft store runs. I came back minus ten dollars, plus three really cool boxes. Then the painting started. Whit, being a true artist (seriously, you should see this lady's paintings), has her apartment stocked with all the canvas, brushes, and paints you'd ever need to become the next Bob Ross. Just looking at all of these raw products is inspiring, and it's what inspired me to try my hand with some of them - even if it is just painting a wooden box or two.

2009-09-14T12:24:00.000-07:00

This morning while I was lounging about, I started hearing a noise that at first I could only compare to a large trash can, being rolled across a parking lot. Trash day, I assumed. Except then the noise kept going, and going, and going. It took me a few minutes to put my finger on what it really was: drums. Excitedly I gathered my things and bounded down the floor flights of steps to the ground floor.

Side note: have I mentioned the four flights of steps? Have I mentioned that I'm going to get really buff thanks to them?

It didn't take me long to notice that the noise was coming from inside the football stadium. Bummer. I was hoping they'd be practicing in a space where I could actually see them. Nevertheless, I found a bench directly across the street and parked myself, diving into my book.

As I sat, I could feel the slight rumbles caused by all of the drums, pounding in unison. I could even hear the shouts of, "ONE TWO THREE FOUR!" that was the precursor to the sound of many drums, beating together and apart.

As I sat there in a little courtyard, book in hand, I had to acknowledge the coming of fall. In two days, the temperature has fallen a good twenty degrees. Football has long since begun for the season. All around me smaller leaves were being plucked from their trees, falling gracefully to the ground below. And while most of the trees remain in their summer mode, they're fighting a losing battle. At this very moment I can look out the window and see some beginning to change to red, orange, yellow - the colors of autumn. Soon all that will be left is evergreens.

And while I sat on that bench, thinking of the impending cool weather, my thought was this: fall is coming, and I am not in Southern Maryland. There is good and bad to this. By coming to Oregon, I'm missing a lot of the events brought on by fall - to include the county fair, and the way the landscape looks as the leaves change colors. Here the evergreens outweigh the trees that change, so that even though I can see hints of color, it won't be anything as compared to the way it looks at home. But by coming to Oregon, to this town specifically, I'm right in the thick of football season at college - meaning that the next few months promise to be loud, if nothing less.

Fall is coming, and I'm not in Southern Maryland.
Fall is coming, and I'm in Corvallis.

And honestly? I couldn't be more excited. After all, OSU colors are orange and black. And Halloween is my favorite holiday.

Day Two.

2009-09-12T18:21:00.000-07:00

Living in an apartment complex is weird, after living in a house off the road. Every time a car pools into the parking lot, I think it's someone I know. Every time voices call out to each other from the ground, I fight the urge to go to the window and stare.

I walked today, and after one block I could see a mountain in the distant. Not a foothill kind of mountain like the ones encountered on the East Coast. No, a real live mountain. I have no idea what it's called, if it has a name, but it's gorgeous. I fought the urge to gape at it unabashedly.

The other night, in the car on the way back from the airport, I joked with Whitney. In all my sarcastic glory, I informed her of all the things we passed that were also inhabitants of Maryland. It sounded like this: "We have NAPA Auto Parts. Also we have sidewalks. And cars. And stoplights, we have those! Hey, we have Safeway. We have those same little green road signs. We have McDonalds. We have trees. Did you know we have trees?" It was all in jest, except I started to think that maybe it was partly to convince myself that this wasn't a foreign land, but rather the other end of a land I was well familiar with.

Things are different out here, that's for sure. The sidewalk out front of the apartment complex is teeming with bikes, chained to one of several racks, even some chained to the railings on the stairs. People out here bike, walk, and scooter to places in addition to driving. In Hometown, anyone who is walking is most likely either homeless, poor, or drunk.

But things are also the same. And while I'm searching out similarities, I'm also embracing the differences.

Maryland to Oregon Day!

2009-09-12T14:40:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I made the journey across country (I'd like to think that I went on the Oregon Trail). It was a day of much jumble, so forgive me if this post isn't quite as clear as you were hoping it would be.

The official travel itinerary was this: car to BWI, plane to Minneapolis, 1.5 hour layover, plane to Portland, car to Corvallis, passing out to dream land.

The day in general went pretty smoothly. Nametwin picked me up shortly after 10:30, and we stopped in Bowie for what will probably be my last Chick-fil-a until Christmas. At the airport we said our goodbye, and I was off. With a little help from some kind security guard I figured out exactly where to go, and in minutes I had a printed ticket in my hand.

Security really doesn't take that long. I'm telling you. Empty your pockets, try not to anger the TSAs, and walk through a metal detector. Oh, but remember: take your shoes off your feet, your phone out of your pocket, and your sweatshirt off your back. Bam.

I had time to read two trashy supermarket magazines and listen to several conversations other people were having before boarding the plane. Hey, you know how a lot of people get weird about flying on September 11th? Well, my plane was full. Just saying.

Also, if you've never flown I'm going to tell you what it feels like to take off. It's like being on a roller coaster, and you're going up that first hill, and you're way leaned back. Except in the case of flying, you're really hoping you don't go back down, while in roller coasters that's the fun part.

On the plane to Minneapolis, once we got out of rainy/cloudy East Coast weather and into better skies, I stared in awe out the window. I don't know if I didn't remember this when I flew to Boston, or I didn't encounter it, but CLOUDS ARE SO COOL FROM ABOVE! Seriously! If you've never flown, you need to do it just so you can look down at the clouds. I can't even describe how beautiful they were, and I'm not going to try.

Touch down in Minneapolis was about thirty-five minutes early, giving me just enough time to grab some sushi (yes, sushi in an airport), go to the bathroom, and find my gate successfully.

Can we talk about how much I hate the middle seat on an airplane? It's the ultimate. You can't get up to pee because the person on the aisle has spread out all of her things on the tray and you feel bad asking her to move. And you can't look out the window because the person on the window has CLOSED THE WINDOW SO THEY CAN SLEEP. Really? Sleeping on a plane is overrated.

Luckily the lady with the window seat woke up about a half hour before we landed, and she opened the shade. Looking down I noticed what appeared to be a series of large ditches. Oh, they were mountains. Upon discovering ones with snow peaks, I may or may not have gotten a little overly excited and concentrated really hard on not making a fool of myself.

Let me explain: when Whitney and I worked at the summer camp in Pennsylvania, we were in the Pocono mountains. She spent a lot of time telling me these were hills, and I spent a lot of time telling her that she was wrong, that they were in fact mountains. Whitney, you were right. I take back everything I ever said about the Poconos being mountains. Living in Maryland, you have no idea what you're missing, and at that moment when I saw "real mountains" I realized how right it was for me to be coming out to Oregon.

Luckily the woman on the window seat was very kind, and she spent most of that last half hour playing tour guide, pointing out the various mountains (and really big rivers), naming them for me, and suggesting other points of interest in Oregon/Washington state. Upon landing in Portland, I'm not sure if I was more excited to see Whitney or to have seen mountains. I did send a series of texts that went something like this:

"WHIT, I SAW A MOUNTAIN!"

"HAVE YOU EVER SEEN A MOUNTAIN? LIKE, A REAL ONE?"

"DO YOU KNOW JUST HOW COOL MOUNTAINS ARE?! SERIOUSLY! THEY'RE AWESOME!!!1!!1"

Apparently she's seen a mountain or two before. I guess she wasn't as impressed.

Upon exiting the plane, I had to physically restrain myself from running, because at that point I was super excited to see Whitney and remember that she wasn't just a voice on a phone. She was waiting at the closest point possible, and when I saw her I simply threw my bag in the air (for laughs, which I got) and hugged her. I had to touch her face a couple of times to confirm she was a real person, and surprise! She is! Thirteen months of nothing but phone conversations will make you wonder.

The drive back to Corvallis included a pit stop in Canby, where I met her lovely parents, played with two super cute dogs, found a cat who looks just like Stevie, and ate Burgerville - the fast food chain Whitney's been trying to compare to Chick-fil-a. I was impressed. It's no Chick-fil-a, but it will do.

Once we were back in Corvallis I spent a good portion of time marveling over her amazing apartment, as well as making fun of Pesto the cat, who has an unpredictable personality and an abnormally stunted tail. Then I passed out.

The End.

Oregon, I'm on my way!

2009-09-11T07:25:00.001-07:00

This is it. In about ten minutes, my nametwin is going to pull in my driveway to take me away to the airport.

My bag is packed. My boxes are ready for shipping. My ticket is printed out and sitting beside me on the keyboard tray. All in all, I'm ready to go!

It's kind of amazing to me that all of the stuff that I value in the world fits in one box, one carry-on duffel bag, and one purse. I'm proud of that, actually.

I'm hoping to get one last Chick-fil-a meal before I go, and then I'm off to Oregon for who knows how long.

While I'd love to sit here and post about all of my feelings, as well as everything that's happened in the past twenty-four hours, I just don't have the time.

I will say this though:

Today at about this time in 2001, I was in the locker room at high school, changing out of my gym uniform and trying to figure out what the heck my principal was saying on the intercom system. A couple hours later I found out that it wasn't just him blabbering on. It was him trying to inform us of what was going on in New York/Pennsylvania/DC. It wasn't until a few days later that the news really hit me, and I understood what it all meant. I was thirteen.

Today, at 21, I'm flying across the country on the anniversary of our nation's most recent great tragedy. And I can say that I am SO PROUD to be an American, and to live in this great country, where I can feel safe flying by myself. I know exactly how lucky am I to be able to do stupid things like wear jeans, live with friends, and drive a car. I will never forget how great this country is, and I am honored to be able to fly on the anniversary of 9-11.

Anyway, nametwin just pulled up, so that's my cue to exit. Keep me in your thoughts/pray for safe travels! Talk to you all soon!

The Best of the Goodbyes

2009-09-10T07:33:00.001-07:00

I don't think anyone is a fan of saying goodbye, though luckily I'm not terrible with it. This is good, because throughout the week I've been saying me goodbyes slowly, to different groups of people.

Saturday it was my goddaugher, Baby K, who is actually not a baby but rather a very independent eight-year-old. She's actually my cousin, and her mom is my Cool Aunt - you know, the one who was a teenager when you were born, who let you stay up late listening to rock music and then sleep in her waterbed. Yeah, that Cool Aunt. When they were leaving I hugged them both goodbye and promised to keep in touch. I don't think Baby K really understood what was going on, but since she's in school & I work, it wasn't like I see her every day anyway.

Sunday it was the church folk, who were kind enough to pray for me during service and then throw me a mini going-away party that evening. Throughout the morning & evening I answered questions, gave hugs, and promised to come back for Christmas service.

Monday it was my stepmom & stepsister. We went to dinner for my stepsister's birthday (happy 24th!) and upon leaving I hugged them for what will most likely be the last time until December.

Wednesday afternoon it was The Preschool Moms - the ladies who I've spent my working hours with for the past year. These are the three moms whose kids went to school with Promise. We would frequently have playdates, during which we chatted just as much as the kids. Truly awesome bunch of ladies, and I cracked jokes as I drove away.

Wednesday evening it was the family. Not that I haven't seen them since yesterday evening, but my mom made my favorite dinner, and we had a couple friends over to celebrate.

This evening I'll be saying goodbye to all my theater friends, and my bosses, and some others, at my little going-away party this evening. But really the biggest goodbye happened this morning, when I went along to drop Promise off for her very first day of kindergarten. While I could talk for days about my love for this little girl, I'll try to keep it short.

This morning I helped her put on her red plaid jumper and brand new sneakers (with laces!), packed her bookbag full of new school supplies, wrote her a little note for her lunchbox, and watched her hop down the front steps to get into the car. The drive to school was all too short, and once we entered the building she bounded in front of me and her mom to get to her class, her huge bookbag bouncing on her back. After taking a few pictures and a recieving a look of embarrasment from the soon-to-be five year old, her mom and I exited the classroom. I made sure to give her a huge hug and tell her I loved her. "I'll see you at Christmas." I told her. I wiped away tears as we drove away, though I couldn't help but smile at all of the excitement her first day of school will hold.

This is okay, I've told myself. I'm not just saying that, either. I'll miss that kid more than anything, I know it, but the timing couldn't be better. We've really come full circle too - my first day back to work (after returning from working summer camp) last September was her first day of preschool. It's fitting that my last day is her first day of Kindergarten.

This may be my last day of "work", but Promise is in my life now until my last day of living. Of that, I'm sure.

Frequently Asked Questions

2009-09-10T07:21:00.001-07:00

Why are you moving?
The answer I've been giving everyone jokingly is, "Something to do." But really, that's about it. I feel like I need to go somewhere new, somewhere I've never been. Things fell into place nicely with my job, and I really had nothing keeping me here. I want to do something while I have no ties - no kids, house, etc - to keep me held to Southern Maryland.

Why Oregon?
I have friends out there. Friends who are good enough to let me crash their couch. Whitney, in particular, has been trying to talk me into doing this for two years. I think she was pretty excited that she accomplished her goal.

Also, it seems like a good fit. The area (from what I can tell) is very diverse, vegetarian-friendly, bike-friendly, low key, environmentally concerned, etc. Basically: hippie. And I'm all about becoming a hippie.

Are you nervous?
HECK YES! And scared, and excited, and happy, and sad, all at the same time.

How are you getting all of your stuff out there?
I'm shipping most of it, taking some on the plane, having some sent out later. Really I'm taking a bare minimum of things - mostly clothes, accessories, and a few sentimentals. I really don't have a lot to begin with, so it really hasn't been a hassle to get everything across the country.

What about a car?
The plan is to bike everywhere, at least until I can decide what I want to do permanently. The area is bike-friendly, and has a good bus system, so it shouldn't be too difficult. The car you've seen me driving this past year actually belongs to someone else, who was kind enough to let me drive it for as long as I needed.

Do you have a job lined up out there?
Uh, not really. I've already had some prospects. I'm crossing my fingers/praying to find something quickly, though.

Are you going to go to church?
Yes, thanks Brenda/everyone from Real Life. I've already started looking. Let me assure you it will be one of my first priorities.

Those seem to be the most frequent ones. If I missed any, please let me know and I'll add them to this post!

First Post, Obligatory Explanations.

2009-09-08T09:09:00.001-07:00

Greetings! I've created this blog as a way for people in my hometown to have an idea of what I'm doing after moving across the country to Oregon.

This could last two weeks, this could last two years. I'll warn you all: I'm not as good of a blogger as some of the greats that I follow online. Alas, this is not meant to be anything more than a public journal of what the heck I'm doing out in Oregon.

My plane lands in Oregon around 10:30pm (EST) on Friday night. Here I go!