All these intrusions just take us too long

Hmmm.... and Welcome Back!

It's funny - I've gone off and around the internet since 2008 to blog elsewhere, discover the joys (and jeers) of Facebook, develop a deep and meaningful relationship with Pandora, subscribe to over 100 blogs (and then unsubscribe to all by 20 of the), discover friends blogs, spend too many hours on etsy and youtube and otherwise ignore this here journal. And yet, reading through posts 5 years later is a bit like having a conversation with a slightly younger version of myself. I recognize the voice, the tone and the constant questions. And I remember what sparked certain musings. But, I also know what happened next - something she doesn't. And that's a bit odd.

Rather than sum up 3 years, I figure I'll just start where I'm at and see where I go. So, it's cold. I'm tired. I'm stressed. I'm in love with the colors gray and yellow and I wish that my "real life" was a bit more exciting and that I took my yoga practice more seriously.

More - that's a word to ponder for awhile.

So, perhaps an exercise is a way to begin. 30 days - 30 posts.

Hello, Internet. It's good to be back.

Put the weights all around yourself

What if what you said you wanted was really something constructed to be so very much the opposite of what you needed, or what you are capable of, or what would be best for you simply so that you could avoid ever having to actually get it?
What if you deliberately (albeit, sub-consciously) developed the picture of a future you didn't want but that "fit" with what you claimed to be so that you could always fall back on the, "this isn't what I'm looking for excuse" should fear of the unknown came yoked with an alternate reality that might indeed make you very happy?
What if you got what you wanted and realized you had been wrong?

It is the end of another academic year and so I find myself (as per usual) pensive, on the edge of starting to relax, contemplative, vise-ridden and unable to get away from a year that has been, in a word, difficult.
I love what I do. I love where I am. I love who I am.
I've made some big changes.
It's been a big year.

Now I am staring down the barrel of another summer. And, as much as I love this time of year, upcoming nuptials and the various moves of acquaintances and family remind me that the chess board that is my life is a bit in "check." What's next?

That's the big question.

Keep it loose, keep it tight

"That's what happens when tragedy strikes. People come and they sit (and they wait)."

We are approaching another Christmas, the end of another year. This year seems to carry a weight with it due to some health concerns - please send a good thought or two our way if you can spare them. My father is preparing for another trip into the hospital and we are preparing ourselves to sit in the waiting room as he is cared for by a team of gifted doctors and surgeons. None of us is very good at sitting and waiting - it is not a skill set that we've spent a lot of time trying to develop. As a family, we're doers. We do what we can, we do what's needed, we try to do what's expected and sometimes surprise ourselves and others by doing something unexpected. Sitting and waiting is not something we do a whole lot of - but that is what is needed in this instance. So, I've brought a sweater, determined that I'll direct traffic when we figure out how it's flowing and pray my way through the experience.

But first, Christmas. Tonight my brother helped me to light the tree in the way that I prefer - lighting the trunk to make the tree appear to be glowing from the inside and then stringing lights around the outer branches. I'll be decorating it with my sister after church and then the cooking will begin: soups, cake, breakfasts, lunches, hors de ouvers (sp?), punches, etc.
Actually conversation:
Mom: Hey darling. They had a 9 lbs roast at the Price Chopper.
Me: Well, that seems like a bit much. Do you want to get that?
Mom: It's Black Angus. I already bought it! (The PC is, literally, 4 miles from our house).
Me: Oh, well if you're alright with a beast that size. Where are you?
Mom: Driving up the hill. We're committed now.
Me: You needed to call me from the hill to let me know about a 9 lbs hunk of cow you purchased?
What can I say? My family is strangely committed to beef - which I now have to figure out how to cook. Who am I kidding? I love it.


I've been reading a great deal about Christmas wishes, Christmas lists, the "holiday economy" and I've watched my fair share of FaLaLaLa Lifetime movies this season. My Christmas wish? Your good health, that you love your husbands, wives, mothers, fathers, siblings and children, that you find friends who laugh with you, cry with you and show up with coffee/chocolate/tea at just the right moment, that we all use our common sense 3% more often (particularly at the polls) and that the new year will find you safe and sound.

Sometimes we forget who we got
Who they are
Who they are not
Keep it loose, child
Keep it tight

Take me the way I am

I am in love with Ingrid Michaelson's catchy tune currently being used as a soundtrack for ugly Old Navy sweaters. It's simple, it has a good beat, it sounds a bit like it's from a time gone by and I find it to be rather short - so it doesn't get annoying when repeated, regularly, on YouTube.
I am to be writing a presentation entitled, "RA Selection: Recruitment and Retainment." Instead I'm catching up on blog writing and blog reading and various curiosities that have hit me over the past twenty-four hours that simply must be Googled at once.
I am, as the students say, procrastinating.
This is not to say that I won't get the presentation done. I have all night. And I have a few other loose ends to tie up. But I have all night. And the holidays are upon us and there is just so much to do and see and be.
Recruitment and Retainment.
And now I've collected a whole bunch of recipes.
Recruitment and Retainment.

Blame it upon a rush of blood to the head

True Story:
I've been considering finding a "Spiritual Director" for some time. This is not nearly as New Age or Kooky as it might sound. Rather, I've been looking for someone to listen to me whine for a few minutes and then suggest a path by which I can learn to suck it up and find some answers. Answers to what? The myriad of questions that have been piling up over my years of adolescence and young adulthood: Am I doing this right? What happens next? Am I happy? How would I know? Am I doing what I'm supposed to? Should I be doing something else? What's "should"? Who determines that? Etc., etc., etc. Trust me. Inside my head is a wonderland of "What's," "How's" and "Whys." So, finally, I've taken the first steps to finding a person who might at least direct me toward some newer, more interesting questions.
So, today I made First Contact. That is to say that I emailed a complete stranger and asked her for spiritual guidance. My email went something along the lines of the following:

Good Afternoon complete stranger!
I have been searching for some answers to perplexing questions and it's been suggested to me that you might be able to/be willing to help. I'm not even certain what questions I'm looking to answer any more, but I would like to the opportunity to examine my life spiritually, vocationally, life-ly, etc. I've long relied on the priests and monastics that I came into this world surrounded by for answers and suggestions, but I'm beginning to think that I might need to go looking on my own, with someone new directing my path.
If you're interested or have time, I'd like to discuss this with you further. Please find my contact info below.
Thanks for reading this over!
~K

Seriously. That is what I wrote someone that I'd like to convince to guide me for a while.

I proceeded to describe this email to my bosses' boss and a monk. They both laughed, and then one said, "It's not a personal ad, you know!"

And that's true. I'm not looking for just anyone to answer my call for guidance. But, I thought to myself, the person I ask should know what they're getting into. And then it hit me. I use the same line of reasoning when I'm dating - and as an excuse when I'm not dating.
I'm not really looking for any social/romantic connection right now because I don't have time. It's not the right time of year. People should know what they're getting into before they're thrown into something that doesn't work for them when, if they'd waited 'til the students left for break, they might have been able to ease in or ease out. Right now it's too overwhelming for someone else.
But, if I'm truthful - it's too overwhelming for me.
Which, if we go with the stream of conscious style I've started, reminds me of Toby Stephens "Jane Eyre" put out by Masterpiece Theater last year. After Jane (played by a too pretty actress whose only wink at the traditional plain Jane is a platypus mouth) lists all the reasons no one will believe they are in love and engaged Stephens (as Rochester) leans into her to kiss her and says "Are you overwhelmed?" But he doesn't so much say it is whisper moan it into her ear.
La Sigh. I heart the Toby Stephens. And the Rochester (even though you're not really supposed to until he's blind and maimed).

I also miss Coldplay. Does anyone else remember how great "Rush of Blood to the Head" was? It's fabulous. Moreso than I remember.

Look at earth from outer space
Everyone must find a place
Give me time and give me space
Give me real don't give me fake
Give me strength, reserve, control
Give me heart and give me soul
Give me time, give us a kiss
Tell me your own politik

And open up your eyes

Give me one 'cause one is best
In confusion, confidence
Give me peace of mind and trust
Don't forget the rest us
Give me strength, reserve control
Give me heart and give me soul
Wounds that heal and cracks that fix
Tell me your own politik

I want you from the ground up

Approximately 4 years ago I discovered another of the myriad of advantages to having an Ethernet or cable internet connection: Internet Radio. From the moment I figured out that I could stream radio from around the globe into my home/office/desk I've been quite content to spend my days with the DJs at Virgin UK. As a mainstream top 40 station in London I find that it provides me with a wonderful mix of American hits, British pop and indie, 70s and 80s classic rock and some punk from the London scene.
As I type I'm listening to Kaiser Chiefs "We are the angry mob," a catchty little tune not heard on any of my local Boston stations or even, for that matter, the River (which I adore). I appreciate that Virgin - which is generally playing music for the "drive home" when I get into the office and then goes commercial free after lunch ('cause its after midnight in London)- allows me to keep a pulse on upcoming artists and music and keep abreast of news and celebrity stuff without very much effort on my part. I like that when artists or songs "sweep" America I've generally already been swept and move on.
I cannot for the life of me figure out the Londoners love for The Fray... but I suppose we all have our level.
I am, at days end, a radio fan. I was brought up listening to radio and comedy from my father's childhood (Stan Freeburg, etc) and sometimes know more about the "news from Lake Wobegon" than I do about my own extended family. Ira Glass, the crew from Wait, Wait don't tell me and the Gabfesters are all welcome on my computer everyweek. Podcasting - the all you can eat buffet of radio - is a godsend. But there's just something so wonderful about getting into my car and finding that I'm leaving for home just in time to catch a Prairie Home Companion or All Things Considered. Unlike, seemingly, everything else these modern days, I can't plan my life to the radio or plan the radio around my life. I have no control over it except to turn it off or on. It is refreshingly simple.
And that's the news from New England where are the women are strong, the men are good looking and the children are above average.

Takes alot of sentimental Valium

Hi-O! I've be blog-absent... mostly because life takes time and my top-secret-project-to-permanently-extend-the-day-to-27-hours hasn't gotten very far. Such is life.
Things, things, things: Got to see the Beckham sit on the sidelines, welcomed new charges at the workplace, lost friends and coworkers to moves and life changes (nothing dramatic), I've taken up walking every morning at 6:15 am which is a bit like crack, and now I'm crafting my way to Christmas.
Oh, and I turned 25 the same weekend my grandmother turned 90 - my milestone seems to pale by comparison.
And today I've been sneezing alot. I hate sneezing. It's unpleasant.
I'm making a commitment (again) to blog more often.
We shall see.