Breathing and Other Things of Import

Twice in the last several days, I have found myself having trouble getting deep enough breaths while at my desk in the afternoon. It happened first last Friday and I left early to get my inhaler (which I have for my VERY infrequent respiratory problems that occur while exercising) Today, I borrowed a co-worker's inhaler (I know.. not the best idea.. but it's the same as the one I have at home.) I am not too worried about this...yet. However, it is an incredibly humbling/frustrating experience to be literally gasping for breath. It makes me think about all of the potential failings of my body, all the little things my body does that I take for granted every day, all the ways in which my body and the systems it contains define me -- who I am and what I can do.

On the same tangent, I have found myself wondering about the bigger picture again lately... always a dangerous thought process on which to embark. I was thinking about the book, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. We read it in my 12th grade Humanities class and I can still see the teacher, Mr. Kurth, standing in front of the class pointing his finger at us and asking us if we were living our lives with quality. And I guess that for the past few days, I have been trying to answer this question. When you cut through all of the stuff and get down to the basics, am I living how I want to live? Am I having genuine experiences? Am I impacting people/the world in ways that I want to? Am I living deliberately? The answer to all of those questions is probably a little yes and a little no. As frustrating as this line of thought is, it's also important to end up here every so often. Reassessing one's life and the path one is on is a necessity because when we live without thinking about how we're living, we stand to miss out on many chances to live a quality life... If any of this ever makes any more sense to me, I will try to elaborate...

Meth Lab

I am convinced that there is a meth lab in my neighborhood. Nobody I tell this to believes me for a second, but I am absolutely convinced. For some time, I have been noticing a strange and repulsive smell in my backyard at night when I take the dogs out. It's not every night and it's only there fairly late at night. It completely penetrates the air and is untracable... as in, it's not coming from any direction in particular...it's just hanging there. I have been wondering and wondering what the smell was coming from and then last week I saw a news story on TV that began like this, "Neighbors in the blah blah neighborhood finally know what was making their neighborhood stink... Authorities busted a meth lab there this afternoon." This is when the light bulb went on. "Ah hah!" I said. "It's meth I've been smelling. Someone in my neighborhood is cooking meth at night."

I mentioned the bad smell to a neighbor over the wall the other day and he became very suspicious himself...I just said that there was this bad smell in the yard at night and did he have any idea what it was and he sort of gasped and said, "Do you think it's a meth lab?" right off the bat in a nervous manner... Now that everyone is suspect, I will have to stop discussing my theory with neighbors.

Yes, I might be insane and there could very well be another explanation. Perhaps we will never find out if there is a meth lab nearby.. or maybe we won't know until whatever house it is in blows up. I am definitly more than a little creeped out -- even if it's only a crazy theory I've cooked up... it seems very possible. Who knows what's lurking behind the walls in my little suburban neighborhood where everyone has matching houses and matching front yards and it's just a little too neat and clean for everything to be on the up and up...

Clarification

I want to clarify that I don't actually dislike all republicans. I have some very nice republican friends... however, the thought of being in a room with a bunch of republicans who have come together to BE REPUBLICAN.... (as I would be at the convention) is a little scary. I appologize for possibly offending any republican readers...

Republican dilemma
To go or not to go...

I have been presented with a very unique offer. I can pay $272 for a plane ticket to New York City and attend the Republican National Convention (with a press pass and everything). I will have my meals and hotel room paid for and my traveling companion will be none other than my fabulous husband. This all seems interesting... maybe even cool...except:

a) I don't like republicans

b) I don't have more time to take off work

c) We have to leave on this adventure five days after returning from a nine day vacation to Oregon... that means more leaving our dogs again and more kennel bills.

d) Did I mention that I really don't like republicans?

Despite all of these detractors, I am still strangely interested in going to what will undoubtedly be one of the most major targets of terrorism at that moment in time... Help. I should have made plans to go to Boston with Neil for the Democratic National Convention, but that is rapidly approaching and while I could still go, we would still have the problem of boarding the dogs, taking time off work and affording the travel... at least I like Democrats....

What I can't determine: Is this a once in a lifetime opportunity that I can't let myself miss out on? Or is this just an excuse to take an unplanned trip to New York...

I Don't Want to Know About It

Sometimes I think I have a sign on my forehead that reads "Tell me all the things that you wouldn't/shouldn't tell anyone else, burden me with your problems, ask me for advice -- that's why I'm here" or maybe it just says something more to the point like: "I have two functioning ears." Whatever the case, I am often the recipient of oversharing.

In job interviews, the prospective employer often blurts out things about how dumb the previous applicants were and how much better my answers were to the interview questions (yes, this really has happened to me). When checking out at the grocery store, it's not uncommon for me to learn all about the checker's grievance with the grocery store chain and the lack of vacation. And, it's a given that if someone in the office is crying, I WILL walk by their office just as they look up toward the door in the hopes that someone will come comfort them. I am that person, the listener, the comforter, the bringer of hugs, advice and reassurances. I don't really mind this roll all the time. I like to make people feel better. I like to be there for people (especially friends... the strangers really need to go find their own friends.) But sometimes too much of other peoples' problems can rain down on me and leave me feeling like everyone else's' problems are my own.

I am in that overwhelmed place right now because, far worse than dealing with strangers dumping their worries or inappropriate ramblings on me, sometimes people too close to me pull me into their problems and I am not even capable of being an objective observer -- I'm part of the situation. This is where I find myself right now... I may be great at advice... or maybe it's that I'm really sympathetic... I'm not sure why I am a magnet for venting of every kind... but I need a respite.

Maybe it's hard to believe, but despite the sign on my forehead, not even I have all the answers all the time.

Clean

On Saturday, we tried to go to the movies. About ten minutes into Spider Man 2 the projector broke. So, we ended up shopping for a while and then we went home and cleaned the house for four hours. Neil was not very happy about it. (Neither was I, to be honest, even if I did start it) But now, we have a clean house that I can't wait to get back to. There is something incredibly satisfying about working together to accomplish a physical task. It's so simple, yet so rewarding. And for about a week, our house will be clean and I'll be content coming home and doing things like reading and (gasp) writing because there won't be floors to mop and bathrooms that need cleaning and carpets that need vacuuming. Neurotic? Probably. A vehicle for procrastination? Absolutely. But no matter my personal neurosis -- there's nothing quite like a clean house.

Politics

It has been a while since I've written about politics, but I wanted to say that I am thrilled by John Kerry's choice for a running mate in John Edwards. Edwards is sunny and positive and personable. He's even...gasp... charismatic. He will bring to the Kerry campaign everything it has been lacking. (at least lots of things it has been lacking) Just seeing Edwards standing next to Kerry makes me so much more excited to vote for Kerry in November -- I sincerely hope it has a similar impact on other voters.

Rachel and I getting ready before her wedding last month 

Rachel looking beautiful... 

Things

The long weekend is over and after one full day of work, I am already completely unrested.

The weekend was good. We went to see the Flying Karamazov Brothers in their new show Life: A Guide for the Perplexed. It was thoroughly entertaining and thought provoking at the same time. I am not sure I wanted to think about juggling in so many new ways... but there you have it.

My grandma seemed to enjoy her 82nd birthday... the pancake breakfast was fun... but as I predicted, I didn't run into a single friend, only parents of friends and it felt a little lonely.

Random tangent: Britten is always saying how much she hates automatically flushing toilets.... and I never agreed with her before. I had fond memories of the automatic flush toilets in the O'Hare airport in Chicago. The major benefit as I see it: you don't have to touch anything that millions of other people have been touching with dirty hands. (yes, I am one of those people who uses my paper towel to open the bathroom door on my way out and would rather die than have to touch those trash cans with the flaps that need opening before you can throw out your trash... ) However, at the Lensic theatre on Saturday night, my opinion on these toilets completely changed. They are EVIL. I went to the bathroom during the intermission and as I stepped into the stall, Mr. Toilet started flushing like a maniac. It flushed when I shut the door, when I hung my purse on the hook...It was splashing water everywhere (and my aversion to all things dirty or possibly dirty didn't take kindly to the water spraying at me) To make a long story... well, longer... I decided I didn't need to go to the bathroom and I went back to my seat. Automatic toilets suck.

However, my new love is automatic soap dispensers.... They have them at the Omni Shoreham in D.C. and they're amazing. You get just the right amount of soap and you don't have to touch an old soap-and-dirt-encrusted soap dispenser to get it.

Apparently it's not only juggling that I've been giving too much thought as of late...

Mysteriously, I've had terrible headaches for the past three days. This is making me very cranky and less than productive. I hope they go away...

Drudgery

It's amazing how quickly after being away, one settles back into the same old routine. Sadly, all of the unexciting tasks that were plaguing me before I left town last Sunday are here waiting for me now that I am back. I wonder if anyone lives a life absent of drudgery. Is there anyone who has managed to cut through all the crap and focus only on the important tasks, the tasks that improve the world and make you feel alive? Probably not.


Tradition

On Sunday morning, I will wake up early, shower, get dressed in something I think is cute and head to the plaza in Santa Fe for the annual July 4 Pancake Breakfast. I cannot remember a year when I didn't wake up early to walk around and see old friends and eat the spongy pancakes and greasy sausage links. My friend Britten's dad always plays in the band, my grandma always sits in the front row by the stage to watch the music, I always get a little too much sun. We walk up the side street with all the old cars parked along it and say things like, "Look how old this one is." and "I would totally want this car." We always act amazed even thought it's highly likely we've seen these same cars every other year at the pancake breakfast.

One year, not too long ago, I spent the morning walking around with a group of friends who had all gathered to see Carl, our friend who was undergoing chemo and would later die because of the tumor growing in his brain. But on that July 4th, Carl was very much alive. I still have a picture from that day tacked to my refrigerator. Smiling friends with arms around each other, posing in front of the puppet show booth -- my arm, linked around Carl's back. Sometimes, I try to look at that picture and remember what that year felt like at the pancake breakfast, what that hug in the picture felt like, but as with most things, the memory has faded and melted into all the other years that I spent July 4 on the plaza.

There is something both sad and comforting about traditions. The comfort comes from repetition and predictability. The sadness from change. Carl is no longer at the annual breakfast, neither is my grandfather, or the rabbi who used to get up on stage and dance like crazy. Other people have moved away and don't make it a priority to visit over the July 4 holiday anymore. The city built a big gazebo on the plaza instead of just erecting the metal bandstand that they used every year of my childhood. And so on.

But even though things are changing and there may be a year soon when I do something entirely different on the 4th of July and don't even think about the gathering I'm missing in Santa Fe, this year, I will be loyal. I will eat the pancakes and sausage. I will look at the old cars. I will visit my grandma in the front row and wish her a happy 82nd birthday. I will listen to the patriotic music, spend too much time in the sun, and remember who I am and where I came from.

Herding Cattle

In Washington D.C., where I was for the past four days for work, I saw an old friend who helped remind me of a few things. First, seeing Robbe reminded me how great reconnecting with old friends can be. Second, seeing him reminded me how much fun we used to have being geeks in computer labs and putting out the crazy magazine he invented in college. And maybe, most importantly, seeing Robbe reminded me to slow down.

What? You may ask. Slow down? Let me explain. Robbe is probably the one person on the planet that I know who has more plans and dreams than anyone. And he somehow seems to get everything done that he wants to. He wanted to start a magazine in college: done. He wanted to start a company that designs websites: done. Wanted to be in an improv group: done. And so on. Naturally, I am incredibly impressed and had just assumed that he had somehow limitless energy and never slept.

Over lunch yesterday, I was telling him how I often feel like I need to be doing more and fast so that I can accomplish all the things in life that I want to. He told me he'd heard a saying that helped him a lot:

"The fastest way to move cattle...is s l o w"

And for the first time in a while, I got to take a deep breath.
(thanks, Robbe)


Big Winner

Last year, when I attend the same conference, but it was in Seattle, and I was new to the credit union industry, I sat through the entire awards luncheon and watched people receive glass awards and I vowed to return this year and win at least one.

On Tuesday night, during this year's awards presentation (which included an open bar) I drank my whiskey and coke and hoped to win in one of the four categories I'd entered. I did not expect to win three first place awards and the Best in Show award. Note: I did not do all the work on my own. One of the first place awards (best logo design) was entirely for my co-worker and the other three awards were for projects we worked on together. But it was SO cool.

Coolness factors:
1) It's always cool to win recognition for something you've worked hard on
2) I like awards
3) New Mexico never wins awards at these things and we won four
4) I became famous among the conference people and ended up talking to a lot of attendees I may not have otherwise talked to.

Not so cool:
Carrying home four heavy glass things on the airplane.


Communication, Baby

It was absolutely wonderful to be surrounded by 30 people from across the country who do my exact same job. It was great to see friends I made last year and also great to make new friends.

Being with the credit union association communications people was a bit like being with my writer friends at Bennington in that we are all obsessed with the same things.

For example: Ten otherwise hip people in their 20s and 30s were at a restaurant in Washington D.C. on a recent night proofreading the menu.

I can't wait until next June.

Miracle

We found her. Just when we were completely without hope and my parents had closed the garage door and I was about to slip on a dress for my friend Rachel's wedding rehearsal, we got a phone call. Animal control had a little dog with a red collar and a pink heart tag and they couldn't get close enough to read it, but they thought it was our dog. My heart jumped in my throat, I threw on some jeans and we flew out the door. My mom drove and Neil had the leash and pet carrier in the backseat. I tried to will the lights to turn green and my mom's foot to press harder on the gas pedal. We could not get there fast enough for me.

Animal Control is on the side of the animal shelter in Santa Fe. We got there and went in to find a room full of Animal Control officers and a woman on the floor with her back to us. In her lap, was our little dog. She was covered in burrs. There was not one part of her body that was white. She had burrs on her legs, her face, her tail...but when she saw us, she started wagging her tail. The Animal Control people helped us shave her to get all the burrs off and the shaving revealed lots of little cuts on her body. Her nose was dry and she seemed in pain but she was so happy that we were there and that the prickly burrs were being removed that she was calm while two people with electric clippers shaved her and I stroked her head to comfort her. Neil took her to the vet where she got checked out and stitched up and I went to the last few minutes of the wedding rehearsal.

Somebody had found Barbie in their backyard drinking their dogs' water. She was growling to keep the dogs away from the dish and was just drinking it like crazy. The man at the house could not get close enough to her to read her tag because she kept growling so he called animal control. We went to his house to thank him yesterday which felt really good. We also gave him $100 which he was reluctant to take, but said he'd donate to the animal shelter.

I still can't believe we have Barbie back. She looks like a mangy junkyard dog right now, but she's still adorable and she's started licking us again and all I can say is that it's a miracle. I don't often use that word and usually I don't think I believe in "miracles". But having my little five-pound dog home and alive after she was missing for five days during the heat of New Mexico summer with all the coyotes and hawks that live in Santa Fe definitely constitutes a miracle. There is no other word for it.

Wedding

Rachel and Brian's wedding was perfection. It was beautiful. They were beautiful. It made me cry. I felt pretty in my bridesmaid dress. The band was great. Everybody danced. The food was yummy. The flowers were awesome (oh how I wish I remembered to take my bouquet home). The cake was to die for. We didn't have to pose for too many pictures. We stayed till the end and wanted more. And two of my most favorite people got married. What an amazing couple. Oh, and it hailed for about five minutes... huge marble-sized hail in New Mexico in June...you can't get cooler than that.

Gone

As if my weekend could stand to get any worse. After Neil hurt his foot Saturday and we spent three hours in the emergency room and he had to get crutches and be in pain and my heart ached for him, on Sunday, Barbie got out of my parents' backyard and got scared and bit my dad really hard when he tried to catch her and then she ran away.

I searched in the open space behind my parents' house for five hours Sunday. I was wearing sandals and my feet became coated in stickers and thorns. My skin got burnt in the sun. My voice went hoarse from calling "Barbie" over and over and over again. We hung up signs, we knocked on doors. We talked to every person we saw. Nobody had seen her or heard her. None of the walkers with large dogs had noticed their dogs sniffing or barking. She was gone.

Yesterday, we went back and searched some more. Nothing. We have an ad in the paper. My dad has been to the pound. He's called animal control. He's put posters all over the neighborhood. Nothing.

My heart is broken. Wiley keeps looking for his sister and he's not eating. Neil is not only hobbling around on his hurt foot, but I think he is even sadder than he's letting on. I miss Barbie. I miss her sense of humor, her enthusiasm, her affection, the way she licked my face like crazy every morning when I woke up and when I moved her away from my face, she licked Neil's instead. I don't know how to make Wiley happy again and I feel terrible that he is at home alone right now while I am at work.

I keep hoping that my phone will ring and someone will tell me they found her and she's fine and that I can come pick her up. But nobody has called. I keep hoping she'll show up in my parents' garage and drink the water and eat the food we put out for her... but the food is still there and the water bowl is full.

More About Rebecca

I found better links for my friend who died last weekend. Picture. Article.

Business

Today, tomorrow and Saturday, I will be working at my company's annual convention. 250 people in the industry will be arriving at the convention hotel today and then they will expect to be shown a good time. I am one of 11 people here to show them that good time. I have to dress business-like and act business-like and be business-girl. Tomorrow, we're going to a baseball game and I don't even think I can wear my traditional jeans and t-shirt to the game... augh. Business...

Sometimes, when I'm in the thick of it, going to meetings, picking up guest speakers from the airport, expressing my opinions on the importance of some new initiative or another, I think to myself, "I can keep doing this and some day I can be CEO or something and get paid a lot of money."

When I have my senses returned to me I think, "I have got to find a way to spend more of my time being creative and less of my time wearing suits."

Here's to three days of business.

Wish me luck.

Dead

Ronald Reagan died last weekend. Despite being an avid Democrat, I used to love Ronald Reagan. I had Reagan stickers when I was little and I idolized him. Perhaps it had something to do with my being so young that I had not yet developed a political consciousness. I just knew that you were supposed to look up to the president -- and he had a nice face and kind manner.

Because of my childhood adoration, I am unable to judge his presidency without bias. But whether he was good or bad or someplace in between, it is sad that he is gone.


Worse news came last night when I learned that a family friend killed herself over the weekend. To the younger and less self-assured person (me), Rebecca seemed to have it all. She worked as a writer for a magazine, had dated a member of the Chicago cubs, was skinny, beautiful, funny, fun to be around, kind, had an amazing family, lit up the room when she walked in...I wish she could have seen herself the way I saw her. I wish she was still alive. I hope her family finds strength to get through this. I wish there was something I could say, but as is sometimes the case, words fail.

It's Hot

On Saturday, we went to visit my family in Santa Fe. We took the dogs and hung out at my parents' house for a BBQ lunch. My brother is home for the summer and he and my dad are home alone while my mom visits family in Michigan. Lunch was good. My dad bought special salmon that you can only get three weeks a year from some famous river I've never heard of and it was delicious. We all sat and talked in the backyard for a while after lunch while my brother tried to get a screen door to fit on the outside door to his bedroom. Sawdust was flying all over the patio in the wind and Buffy, the Labrador retriever, tried to eat it. My dogs kept barking at Buffy and nipping at him. It was one big happy gathering. But then we went inside. First Dustin was on one couch, then Neil was on another and my dad was in the recliner and I found myself splayed out on the floor, resting on a big turtle pillow, flanked by two little dogs. It must have been 2:30. The next thing we knew it, it was 5.

There is something inherently unsatisfying by a heat-induced nap and I think it's that when you wake up it's no cooler than it was before you fell asleep. However, the nap was not without its merits. There is something very cool about napping with company. Whether it's just me and Neil napping or whether it's a group nap like we had on Saturday...even though everyone was sleeping, when we woke up it felt as though we had shared something. We were all guilty of mid-afternoon laziness. It was much more satisfying than waking up from a nap alone and feeling like you are the only one who slept the day away. Group napping alleviates the guilt of the nap. It normalizes it. Napping in groups makes napping ok.

Clearly I have given this a bit too much thought...

It's going to be a hot summer and I foresee more naps in my future -- hopefully, when I nap, I will have company.

The Backyard

Last night, I spent a lovely two hours in the backyard. It was just me and my two dogs taking in the sunset and early twilight. I sat in the lounge chair and noticed the temperature change from hot to warm. When the crickets started chirping, Wiley and Barbie went hunting for them, but gave up quickly when their noses hit the rock wall that the bugs must have been hiding beneath.

I chatted on the phone with several different friends and even conversed briefly with my dad. I read the mail, mostly junk. And saw the moon come up above my house full and bright.

Two hours passed.

Then I saw Neil through the sliding glass door. He opened the door for me and I FINALLY got to go inside.

Yep, that's right, my backyard adventure was more along the lines of backyard exile. Brilliant Jodi locked herself and the dogs out of the house. I had a key to the mailbox, the back gate, my grandma's house, my parents' house and my office. But I was mysteriously missing my house key, my garage door key and my car key.

It had been a while since I'd spent so much time just existing outside. I have been walking and bike riding, but not just sitting. While, I was thoroughly annoyed at my stupidity and desperately wanted to get indoors, I also enjoyed my time outdoors. I watered the trees, smelled their flowers and actually relaxed since there was nothing else I could do.

Errand for the weekend: Invest in a spare key. Find a good hiding spot.

Iowa

In Iowa, they don't put fences up in the backyards. Instead, everyone's yard is one big lawn for little kids to play on. This is the main thing I noticed about Iowa while there for four days last weekend. There are rolling hills, lots of green, and communal backyards, save one or two yards with fences -- but the fence owners look like the party poopers.

Iowa is quiet and farm-filled and I imagine it being a very nice place to grow up or to raise a family, but I'll take my desert life over a life in Iowa any day.

Wedding

I was in the great state of corn fields and The Iowa Writers Workshop with a higher purpose. I went to wear a little pink dress and stand up in Jenn's wedding. The wedding was beautiful. Jenn had thought of everything and even the place cards, with little dance steps printed on them, were perfect. My roll in the wedding (walking down the aisle, posing for pictures, attending events, smiling) went well. I think I fulfilled all the bridesmaid commitments. Even the shoes were more comfortable than I imagined and I ended up dancing more than I normally do at such occasions. Looking at the pictures that we had developed on Sunday, I didn't look particularly thin in the dress. I imagined myself to look a little better while I was wearing the dress... but oh well.

I got to see Patty and Sean which was awesome and great and worth every penny and any inconvenience. I also saw our friend Scott for a brief moment when he drove to the party from Chicago. Reuniting with old college friends was very good.

On our way home, we got stuck in Denver overnight after multiple delays and a mad dash through the Denver airport. It took us more than 24 hours to get home from the time we set foot in the Eastern Iowa Airport. At first I was really pissed and I thought it may not have been worth the trip. But thinking a little more rationally, I think the reconnecting with old friends made it worthwhile as did one moment on Saturday night:

Jenn and Bill's first dance was to a U2 song. Since I was seated at the head table, I had an excellent view. In the eight years I've known Jenn, I don't think I've ever seen her happier than she was during that dance. I don't know Bill very well and I haven't had the chance to see the two of them together much, but watching that dance and seeing the happiness radiate from them, I knew that my friend Jenn had made a really good choice in Bill. And knowing that made the whole weekend a success.