Friday, December 17

Figuring out the Feminine

I’m not sure if it is hard to be around me when I am talking/intruding on a conversation in order to coax women I don’t know into coming to my Bunco party, or if I just don’t like myself/read into people’s faces something that looks like irritation and isn’t…or is. I am perfectly aware I am loud/obnoxiously loud. I know I am abrasive/self centered (not a great combo). But I am pretty sure I am nice. I am mostly sure I smile a lot, and I am not disingenuous. I can’t figure why I think I make people feel uncomfortable/make them think I am fake. I can’t put my finger on why I am very concerned people know I really am interested in them/would like to be friendly to them for no reason than that it is nice to be nice, to feel included, and to feel thought of.

How do you convey you have no agenda? I think, for the most part, I have a difficult time with females. Men are much simpler/friendlier. There is no sense of them being threatened by you. I am still struggling with how to put my finger on what this is I have with the fairer sex, the sex that is mine, what it is that I have so much trouble with. I worry I am being inconsiderate by coming and, without introducing myself, speaking directly and abruptly but in a friendly and happy way, with completely unsuspecting women who do not have a clue who I am. Maybe the strange emotion I read on people’s faces is just utter shock. I don’t think most people are perfectly fine squeezing into an unknown group and making nice very loudly and cheerfully; even at a Christmas party that is for the group your husband works with and their families. I just don’t have a problem talking to people. I really don’t have a problem being myself. I think most people are taken back by that. And that I talk so damn fast. They are probably shocked by the initial conversation invasion, then after they have recovered from the invasion  they spend the rest of it trying to catch up to a monologue that is going 200 miles an hour that they were perfectly unprepared for and are just trying to take it all in. Probably something like you are now. Good thing I can't see your face, or I might be self conscious. I think that must be it. I should remember to speak slower, and maybe introduce myself, then pause, ask for names, and make a seriously conscious effort to stay calm and speak slowly. Don’t chew on my words; don’t try to get everything in in 7.6 seconds. It isn’t a race; adults do have a longer attention span than a three year old. I imagine this might be insulting on some level. I am just going to have to slow down, otherwise people are going to get whiplash from trying to keep up with me and my scrambled/frank/hyped up brain.

Thursday, December 16

Early Preparation

When my dad started building my children's bunk beds, in preparation for our move there, he thought he had started way too early. After all it would be three months before we would be there, but he was just so excited! He figured he was going to get all finished then have nothing to do, and have to sit and be bored while waiting in agonizing anticipation. Then life happened, deaths, more life silliness, driving back and forth to Utah, injury, bad back, on and on, now we are down to the wire, and boy is he glad the beds were finished when they were because of all he has to do!

I have had a similar thought. I am seriously excited to move home, to Costco, malls, my sister, restaurants, the land, my mother, nice movie theaters, swimming pools, my brother, more than a single park, really nice parks, my dad, my dad playing guitar, singing with my dad while he plays guitar, could I go on and on thinking of all the things I have missed over the last six years? I could indeed. I thought for all the reasons I have to be very, agonizingly, impatient, that gathering boxes and beginning my packing now would have me facing similar issues my dad feared, in getting to the end and have nothing to do. Today these are the tasks I did: took down my photos, gathered my living room knickknacks, wrapped both things in newspaper, boxed them, sorted through my movies and chose which ones we want access too for the next month and our trip, then packed the empty cases, packed the rest of the movies, my books, then moved all 5 boxes into the garage. I realized some things when I fell into the rocking chair after I was done: firstly, packing boxes and preparing entails a lot more than just the gathering and boxing of the things I listed; there were several other things that needed to be done in order to get the packing done. Secondly, there is no too early. Judging from my current state of exhaustion, having a leg up will save me from the endless work we have to do at the end tail of this move, which will be a condensed week of packing, packing a truck, scouring every inch of this house for inspection and check-out, driving, driving, driving more, then unpacking and then starting school again a week later. Life is bound to happen in between our moving tasks. Maybe I don’t have an early start on it. Maybe I am right on time.

I am tired just thinking about all we have to do. Did I mention I have two toddlers and a huge dog, or that we are moving from a steady income with 100% insurance and free housing, to no insurance and no job into a house with my entire family? Can you picture it? I so can.

All to be a midwife. But not really. My family will make it all worth it. At least…I pray to God they will.

Did anyone tell you how much fun being a grownup is?                         n't

Tuesday, December 14

That's a Wrap

Well now that I am down one more semester I have some time to get on here and scribble something. This was a challenging semester. There were many stresses that I never would have anticipated for my life. The prospect of moving across the country, leaving our military life behind, and moving on to a life that doesn't have a job in it (right now), a life of school, and living with my family (which will be undoubtedly trying at times), all these events have created a very unusual experience. It truly has been a hell of a year. For that matter, I have officially finished my first year of school, only 7...or 8.....or maybe 12 more to go....depending on whether I decide to go to medical school or not, though it is looking like a "not" right now. I don't have...well...anyone's support.

I did well again this semester, and I suppose now I can accept it is not a fluke; I am not dumb, and I am capable of getting good grades. What a concept! I am gearing up for my first (of several) science classes. I am taking a first semester biology course with a lab, and I am taking it online. I am pretty excited about it, as I have to buy a lab kit, a microscope and all sorts of sciencey stuff that I will use in....the garage or something (the words “e coli in the fridge” have been tossed around in regards to this course). So that should be fun. Also on the agenda is Anthropology, and I am continuing my math courses. I am on to new mathematical territories, as I have never been beyond pre-algebra....sad as that seems. I ditched math in school for choir, drama, dance, and.....well, boys. That was s-m-r-t. We are moving in T-minus 1 month. My dad arrives in three weeks to help lift (with his bad back...what was I thinking!), spackle, and drive. I can seriously hardly wait to see him.
So here we go! Wooo