Heebie Jeebies

Pan's Labyrinth got in bed with me last night. I'm glad I didn't watch it alone; I don't know what I would have done then! Someone would have been getting a late night phone call. Someone almost did anyway (although I don't know who I would call. At 2 a.m. my friends might be more dangerous than an intruder). It was a beautiful movie, and I was really entranced by it. In fact, I'd even say I loved it, but I guess the violence and creepy imagery got to me.

Side note - I AM the person that still makes sure the closet door is closed when I go to bed and who makes sure to take a big step away from the bed when getting up in the middle of the night. I sometimes run back from the bathroom convinced there is something on my heels. Only one night in recent memory have I slept with my closet door open, and I really did think the next morning, "Wow. That was a close call; I'm glad nothing got me." We all have our things. And I just think why tempt fate, you know? Anyway...

I woke up at 1:45 hearing noises and ended up sleeping (read: laying in my bed with my eyes wide open trying not to breathe so I could hear the person I knew was creeping down my hallway) with my cell phone and glasses next to me in bed. This was not a "I am woman, hear me roar." kind of moment. It was a "shrink under the covers and pray for morning" kind of moment.

It's A Miracle (kind of)

So, the driver side water squirty nozzle thing on the hood of my car has not worked in - oh I don't know - years. I've stuck pins, earrings, whatever sharp thing I had available, into the nozzle trying to make it work and always...nothing. And it was a big irritation because, of course, it had to be the one on the driver's side that was messed up. I don't need a clean passenger windshield; I need a clean driver one.

I don't even remember the last time I tried to make it work because honestly I had given up on it ever working again. Then, lo and behold, the other day I was trying to wash some bird ick off the passenger side windshield, and water streamed miraculously from BOTH nozzles!! My car spontaneously healed itself. I am very excited by this miraculous turn of events.

I wish all problems would spontaneously fix themselves if you just gave them a little time. Then again, maybe most problems do...Zen and the art of water squirty nozzle things.

Good start to the day

My favorite Exxon employee called me beautiful this morning.

I went to my first drive-in last night - the Moonlite in Woodbury. Fun stuff. It was so 1950's of us.

I don't like your girlfriend

She's like so whatever,
I think we should get together.
Hey! (Hey!) You! (You!)
I don’t like your girlfriend!
No way! No way!
I think you need a new one
Hey! (Hey!) You! (You!)
I could be your girlfriend

Am I the only one who sees the potential for using this song in some teenage romantic comedy where the girl next door pines for the best friend who recently dropped her to date the popular cheerleader who lives to make the little people's lives miserable? And of course, for no apparent reason, there will be some choreographed group dance numbers too.

Picture it: the girl next door (and, I'm thinking, the boy's little sister for added cute factor) are plotting against the horrible girlfriend/cheerleader and creating all kinds of havoc - perhaps involving water balloons, mustard and a wet dog or rigging the school election or putting chiggers in her bloomers before the big pep rally - in an effort to show that the girlfriend is snobby, uptight and all wrong for said boy. Hilarity will ensue.

I might go see that; I'm a sucker for choreographed dance.

Are you smarter than a 2nd grader?

If you work where I do, apparently not. Hence, the occupation listed on my profile: mis-educator of America's youth. Here's some background that quickly becomes relevant - my favorite part of my job is going through the mail that comes to our PO Box.

We once received complaints that the wise men and shepherds on our Christmas cards looked like terrorists. We also get an alarmingly large amount of mail from various correctional facilities around the country. In fact, in the latest batch there was a letter from a correctional facility in Illinois and New York. Scary.

But the best thing we've ever gotten was the large packet of letters from a class of second graders in Lyons, KS (here's the mis-education part). They wrote to point out: Birds are NOT mammals. Yes, in our book "Birds: Wonders of Wildlife" (which I can at least say was produced before I started working here), we made the rather outrageous claim that birds are mammals. Here's a sampling of what 2nd graders think about that:

"You made a slight (!) mistake in the book...I am sorry but I bet you will get it next time. I know some facts about birds. Birds can fly." Not all birds can fly, smarty pants.

"You have made a huge mistake." Simple, I like it.

"It says birds are one of the most fascinating mammals on earth. Yes birds are fascinating, but they're not mammals." Very diplomatic.

"You have made a mistake in your book but mistakes happen to everyone. It's ok." Winner for most compassionate.

"Mammals have hair, not birds." This is my favorite, because of the funny syntax error. Get it? Mammals don't have...never mind. I'm a dork.

Here's the thing, though. Once I got to thinking about it, I couldn't figure out what birds actually are. I also made the mistake of saying that frogs were reptiles, totally forgetting about amphibians. Not my finest moment. So after some research, I have learned that birds are considered aves, like dogs are considered mammals. I have to give that explanation because now I don't know if these labels (aves, mammals, amphibians, reptiles) are classes, species, genuses, or what. Looks like I have some more research to do.

Eww, ick

The inside of my car smells disturbingly weird.

One of the oddities I was talking about over there

My coworker has an ant inside his computer monitor. You can see it, as a shadow, running around all over. I have never heard of such a thing and until this point wouldn't have thought it was possible.

A Perfect Day

I think I might have had a perfect day today. I managed to do (or not do) pretty much all the things that I should have done (or not done). I worked hard. I played hard. I ate my favorite Nashville meal. And I'm going to sleep with a smile on my face. If that's not a perfect day, I don't know what is.

Truth or Consequences

I've been thinking a lot about trust lately. It's a strange thing when you think about it. We know what it is, we know how it feels on a gut level, but how do you get it? Where does it come from? Shared experiences, I guess. Time. Love. How do you know you can really trust someone, though? Maybe you never really know. People, me included, are good at hiding things. Sometimes I think we're better at lying than we are at telling the truth. Sometimes lying is easier, I guess. And we all know we want easy, right?

I'm sure everyone had the experience growing up where we did something bad, got caught and then got the "you abused our trust" conversation. Always ended the same way, "you'll have to work to earn our trust back." That's the part that seems a little fuzzy to me. How? How do you make it up? How do you let that person anywhere near you again? How do you trust someone that's let you down? Who's that brave? Who wants to risk getting hurt again?

Here's another trust thing that I'm sure everyone has heard about. Remember the game you'd play at camp or at team-building sessions for work or school or whatever - the one where you'd have a partner and would fall back and they would catch you? Or even scarier, the one where you'd stand on a ledge and fall back into a bunch of people's interlocking arms? I've NEVER done that and all of a sudden that makes me sad. I guess I'm not a very trusting person. I wonder what that says about me? I don't think I let people in. I want to, but I never do - not all the way. I think trusting others is a reflection of trusting yourself, and maybe I don't really.

But, then I hear "Blue Sky" (see my previous post) and think that maybe I could do it. Maybe I could close my eyes and fall back into someone's arms. I know there are lots of arms out there that are ready to catch me if I just go ahead and fall away. Maybe I don't have to live the ways I've always lived. I know change is a glacially slow process, but I'm working hard on it. I don't want to hold people at arm's length. I am who I am and if you don't like it, can't deal with it, are put off by it, then you can find the door.

Forget the concept of Americans' "personal space."

Fall away, I say. Get close enough to catch me. Bring it on.

Blue Sky

The farther I come the farther I fall
Whatever I knew it was nothing at all
Nothing at all, just making me small
Smaller and smaller I fall back
Sooner or later with a view from the ground
Chasing the race and the races run you down
Sooner or later with a view from the ground
And a tear in your eye
You say baby why can't we fly
In the blue sky
High
In the blue sky
Be my singing lesson
Be my song
When I tell you I'm falling
You tell me I'm strong
You say trees have grown tall birds have flown high
Higher and higher
Goodbye goodbye goodbye
I'll fly over a rainbow
I'll be sun kissed
Sail around the planet Venus
And send a long letter
Way back home
That says all that I know
All that I know is the blue sky
High
In the blue sky
The farther I come the farther I fall
Whatever I knew it was nothing at all
Trees have grown tall, birds have flown high
Higher and higher
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye

Aren't you happy it's finally a happy Patty Griffin song? Go find it and download it! "Whatever I knew it was nothing at all." I love that! I'm a freak who pays a little too much attention to song lyrics, but this song made a huge impact today. It gives me hope. Silly, I guess, but there you have it. I'll take hope wherever I can get it. Hope is never a bad thing.

It's Never Rained Like It Has Tonight Before

This has been one of the most awful, up and down, emotional weeks I've ever had. I guess there might be a few other weeks that rival or even surpass it for outright crappiness (I can name 2 without thinking), but it was the dizzying heights and the crashing lows that were the real problem.

Despite all that, I didn't break down and cry like a baby at the Patty Griffin concert. It's a feat I'm semi-amazed at, because I cry when I listen to her even when everything is A-OK. When she sang "Rain," I felt the tears welling up to the tip top, but they didn't fall (surface cohesion at work, I guess). I blinked them back with all I had because I refused to be the dope that personalizes everything they hear. At least I refused to be that person for a minute, and that was enough to get me through it.

It was a great concert, and I'm wearing an awesome t-shirt now. It's my new favorite t-shirt. I may never take it off again. It combines two of my favorite things - Patty G. and birds. Bliss.

Victory in our time!

Success! I beat the noodle bowl!