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I like that song so much I think that is the second time I've used it within a blog title.

I now feel safe telling the blog world that I am, in fact, leaving my job as a social worker at that one non profit agency. The reasons are vast and numerous but basically come down to one important nubbin- I haven't been very happy. I love working with people, but for the last few months I've spent a lot of time alone in my office, sitting in front of the computer and then, as I've lamented before, getting all the kinks readjusted from my chiropracter since sitting at a computer all day doesn't seem to work too well for me. This has been a very tough decision because I've loved working at that not-to-be-named agency. I've learned and grown so much and received invaluable mentorship and work experience. But I know it is time to move on.

Move on to what?, you ask. Well, my last day is August 17th, just 2 months exactly from the wedding! I didn't really plan it that way. I'm going to keep teaching yoga while I look around for another social work position out there, preferably doing direct clinical practice. We'll see how it goes. In the meantime, I will teach yoga, work on my paintings and prepare for this upcoming wedding. In a time of such transition and uncertainty, I'm finding tremendous enjoyment in considering things like What kind of flowers should be in the bouquet? and What type of basket with the flower girl carry? These are rather peaceful questions with simple answers, much easier to ponder than What the heck am I doin?! This might also explain the frequent postings about my cats or other mundane topics, as I am considering this blog as a way to vent or just avoid stress. Image from nataliedee.com

Really, that I'm finding solace in wedding planning is a true testament to how we can move on from painful experiences. I'm thrilled and excited to marry Q and can hardly wait for our fun wedding weekend so that we can spend so much time with our closest loved ones. So instead of making a monthly budget or counting my hours towards my social worker license, let's consider the types of amazing flowers that can go into a bouquet for an October wedding. There are going to be a lot of aqua and dark blue accents in the wedding, so I'm afraid those lovely warm orange-ish fall bouquets won't work very well.

I really love peonies. They look so fluffy and soft. However, they aren't easy to obtain in the fall so no peony bouquet for me. That is probably best for me, because they do resemble some kind of lovely pastry and I might end up eating them.

But, one of my favorite flowers will be available this summer and that is the hydrangea. I love these flowers and all their color variations. I would like to have a bouquet of white hydrangeas with an aqua ribbon. My mom suggested that then the bridesmaids can have blue hydrangeas and perhaps out little flower girl can have some pink ones too. So pretty!

What do you think? What kinds of flowers do you think are particularly beautiful in a wedding? And what other types of little wedding details would you like to me share with you on this here blog? (By the way, I do plan to post pictures of my DIY invites, which have now been sent out to nearly everyone and hopefully received by now).

Have you ever done something that you KNOW you just HAD to do, something that in the long run was the best decision and yet you felt like a real a**hole the entire time?

This is how I have felt since Wednesday morning, when I stuffed my cats into their carriers and took them to the kitty kennel.

The cats know what those carriers mean and with their uncanny ability to put two and two togetha, they run and hide when those carriers come out. Carriers indicate a trip in the car. Perhaps moving to a new place, going to get shots or maybe even going for a cross country trip, during which cat will get locked in the car in Wall, South Dakota. Well, I had to catch the cats and then rudely stuff them into their carriers. This was all just mere moments after discovering Bob cowering near the basement stairs, after he'd leaped off the balcony the night before.

The car ride was really fun and by really fun, I mean it in a sarcastic way because it sucked. Cuphead can only manage a little squeak of a meow and was pretty friendly in the car, nuzzling against the carrier door when I called her name. Bob, on the other hand, went totally manic, meowing and howling until I turned the radio up so loud I couldn't really hear him. Bob was thinking about all of those annoying signs all the way to Wall, Drug and how he JUST DOESN'T WANNA GO THERE! Screw you, Wall Drug! was what Bobby was saying, even though it sounded like "MOWWWWW MOWWWW RAWRRRRRRARRRRRRRRRR!!!!"

The kitty kennel is right by work and they only house cats in there- no barking dogs! Each cat gets a spacious cage with food, clean litter and the entertainment of the ridiculous kittens who run around that place as well as the ancient cats who do nothing but sleep on the counter. I saw one of those kittens begging to be harrassed by the vacuum cleaner hose. That seems so strange to me, like cats who like to bathe. What in the world? I felt bad leaving the cats there, but we're in the middle of moving and the chance that they'll run off is high, plus it was MISERABLY hot this week, especially in our old apartment. If you read that Seattle broke a temperature record this week, it was actually that nasty little apartment with no air circulation that hit the highest temp. For reals.

The kitty kennel owners are nice and always seem eager for some human interaction, but then all we do is talk about cats. They say it is hard to get work done with the kittens being so cute. "Don't you want to take a kitten home?" one of them asked me as a tiny gray striped cat rolled around on my foot. I felt a pang in my heart and then imagined what Q would say. "Noooo." I replied reluctantly, remembering all the times I tried to sneak new cats into our family home as a kid. One time I made up some story about how the neighbors gave me the cat before they moved, but the reality is that they moved away and abandoned him. Good thing for the cat that an adoring kid across the street was all to eager to LIE on his behalf.

So I've been going to visit the cats since I dropped them off in this place. Both the cats recognize my voice when I come in. Cuphead rubs her head against the cage, squeaking her little meow and Bob emerges from his hiding place in the corner. Those two have suprised me as the kennel folks informed me that all Bob does is hide while Cup begs for attention. Also, one of the owners mixed up Cup's name and called her "Overpass". I open up their cages and pet them, I walk Bob over to Cup's space so they can say hi and feel sad when I leave. I assure them that I'll be back soon to take them to our new awesome home, but when I say such things all they hear is BLAH BLAH BLABBITY BLAH.

Well the cats are safe and I know it is for the best. Still, Cuphead looks startled and lonely while Bob appears quite strung out. At least it isn't another trip to Wall Drug, though, right?

Once I figure out what I'm doing with my life, I will have my new website done. See, we tried to hire this graphic designer to make some logos for me, for business cards and the website and never heard a peep back. That's what you get for reaching out within the Surfing Dude world, I guess. Well not really, another more reliable surfing dude will probably do this. I'm also still conceptualizing things a bit more, while also moving, job searching and wedding planning. It is kind of a lot all at once and in the meantime, my cats are being boarded so I spent entirely too much energy feeling lost and confused and thinking my flip flops sitting in a corner are actually Cuphead (they're not).

So rather than boring you with details of how I'm going to unravel the current jumble that is My Life, I would instead like to turn my attention to My Car.

My car is a 1994 Honda Civic, a little white 2 door with fancy features like automatic windows and a moonroof (the electronics on those features stopped working years ago). I bought Shadowfax in 2004 from a place in Boise called Fairly Reliable Bob's (for real, and I actually really like that place). The car felt really fancy and clean to me, zipping along and all fancy with its Cupholders (love those things, but yeah now those are broken too. Yes they can break). I had been driving the O'Laughlin Family's old red Jeep Cherokee which had a lot of problems and terrible gas mileage, and some bewildering mechanical defect which caused its engine to quiver at random times (my dad called this "The Quirkiness" which I still think should be the title of a horror film). I didn't like that car, and felt somewhat traumatized by city driving after my 2 year stint in rural Africa, so I affectionately named the Jeep 'Sauron' because of its evil red color. So, once I traded in Sauron for the clean white civic, I named the new car Shadowfax, after Gandalf's nice white horse.

See the resemblance?

Shadowfax and I have done a lot together. We drove all the way to Alabama and then two years later, we drove all the way back to the Northwest. And let's not forget all the time that we spent driving around on those terrifying southern freeways, where everyone drives trucks so large that you can't even SEE Shadowfax. I'd honk the horn to alert people to my presence right before they crashed into my life, but the car's beep is more of a MEEP, kind of a Muppet sound if you will, not startling at all as car horns probably should be right before some Chevy truck crushes you.

Shadowfax and I then learned how to get around Seattle, one of the most confusing cities to drive in. We've done pretty well with that, regularly pulling over to study the city map and figuring "well, we'll get there eventually". Shadowfax and I learned to navigate the parking space in the basement of the first apartment I lived in here, where there was barely space to pull in and one time we scraped the side of the large cement post and scratched the side of the car. I was scared for Shadowfax when I learned the junkie across the hall jumped off the balcony over the parking garage, scared he landed on the little civic, but he landed right on the pavement and broke his legs. That is a story in itself.

Shadowfax has had his clutch replaced, as well as many other more minor operations. We've taken cats to the vet, moved items around from one apartment to the next and driven countless times to visit the parents in North Idaho. Shadowfax's air conditioning gave up 2 years ago and I just haven't felt like paying the money to fix it. So, lately we've been driving around very sweaty and alarmed, except on days like today when I let the civic rest in the shade and take Q's pristine Xterra to work.

I went away to Boise for Thanksgiving last fall and returned to a gutted and still Shadowfax. Someone had broken into the car, stealing the stereo and as I learned later, also taking the car computer. I didn't know cars HAD a computer, but quickly learned it is quite an important part as it helps all the parts of the car work together, it is kind of like the car's brain. The Honda dealer told me it'd cost close to 1,000 bucks to replace, so I quickly went on Craigslist to find such a part. I found a guy with some crashed Civic in his front yard in one of the northern Seattle 'burbs, and Q insisted on picking up the part lest I be creeped out or ripped off in the process of getting a new Car Computer (it is true, I really have no idea what that looks like). I paid 50 bucks for the nice mechanics to replace it, they told me I was smart and lucky and Shadowfax and I have been putzing along ever since.

Seattle is a big city where violent crime occurs, but not nearly as often as some other big cities. What does happen a lot here is car theft and break-ins. I've heard numerous times that the most frequently broken-into car is the Honda Civic or the Toyota Camry, since they are all over and easy to break into. Some people, like the tools who took Shadowfax's brain, like to steal parts of make racing cars like they are in some stupid action movie starring Vin Diesel.

Well shortly before my trip to Boise this last week, I ran out to my car to make sure the face was off the nice replacement stereo Q gave me for my birthday (because I hate driving without my radio!). I found my car broken into, trunk open and everything. But nothing was gone, not even the stereo. All the person did was make a big mess, throwing around all the mechanic's receipts in the glove compartment, the bag of yoga clothes in the backsteat and the Random Crap in the trunk (out of sight, out of mind!). The car still started and has been running fine. We figured some of the weird, twitchy explosively cussing men who've been seen wandering the streets of Wallingford lately broke in looking for money and then quickly moved on. Again, Shadowfax is easy to break into.

So while I love this car, it may be time to move on and I'm starting to think of possible getting a new (well, new-to-me) car or, if I just end up teaching yoga all over the Seattle area, just riding my bike around. It would be nice to have somethign with an alarm, windows that roll down, and maybe, maybe! even a working A/C. But that may be hoping for too much!

I'm sure the whining of Seattlites has reached the shores of Jersey at this point. It is so hot here and we're all in severe states of distress. I seem to have some kind of water obsession and no matter how much I drink, I remain parched. The cats have taken to sitting on the kitchen floor in the dark with their bellies stretched out. Q is doing similar things. I sleep with the fan blaring in my face while kicking the covers off of me. I have no air conditioning in my car, my home or my office. I am considering spending the evening in Barnes and Noble as suggested by the receptionist at the doctor's office.

*******

I returned from my trip to Idaho on Monday. I was there for nearly one week. It was a fun time, also very hot there. In fact, going into my doctor's check-up today, the doc noted a slight sun burn on my back and scolded me, as she sees me so they can decide which abnormal patch of skin they are going to cut out. We camped in Idaho and went to the Sawtooth Music Festival, which was beautiful and fun (highlight for me was seeing the band Thao and the Getdown Staydown and the girl walking backwards in her flipflops because she was, um, not really sober- funny!). I spent the day in the sun drinking lawnmower beer, walking around and chatting with people, finally sleeping during the last set, all comfortably curled up with the 2 beagles in the VW van. Very nice. Howrrrr.

*********

I must share that we are in the midst of yet another move. Yes, by Sunday we should be all moved in to our new wonderful and BIG apartment. Yes! The cats have been very distraught over the moving of furniture and boxes, and the heat doesn't help matters much.

This morning I woke up and couldn't find Bob anywhere. I called Q at work in a grumpy panic, realizing that Bob jumped off the balcony (we tend to leave the door slightly open for them so they can chill on the porch, but they've never left like that!). Cuphead was beside herself, meowing and following me around. I walked around the building calling "Bobby! Bobby!" and then heard a frantic "MOW! MOW! MOW!" and saw Bob, all dirty, cowering and covered in cobwebs, pulling himself up the stairs leading to the building's laundry room. I brought him inside and fed him, then prompty stuffed the two cats in their respective carriers and took them to be boarded until we are done moving. This was the plan all along, as we feared them running away from the chaos, and our fears came true. So now they are in kitty day care, where it is actually much cooler than our miserable, tiny apartment.

Okay maybe my stress isn't that big but today it feels big because I took my stress balloon and punched it a bit and hyperventilated into it and made it hideously large with dark trains of thought and self-doubt. Before I unload my complaints on you, poor dear, I will write this- I am so thankful for having choices. It is such an uncertain world and such uncertain times. I am extremely grateful to have choices in employment, in where I live, in what I do, in who I see and how I spend my time. My stresses have been around making those choices and sometimes I forget the delight in having those choices at all.

But let's get started here. Hmmm hmmm *clears throat* Let me put on my face here.

There we go. Okay let me get started then...

I've been too busy! Busy with things I like, but still - ew! I signed on to teach WAY too many hot yoga classes and realized quickly that teaching over and over again brings me to feel like a robot, a sweaty robot Also, that hot room just irritates me sometimes, maybe because I tend towards a pitta imbalance in the summer... Then I've been working, but also job hunting, and also wedding planning, and also trying to get ready to move, see friends, hang with Q, etc. See it just goes to show that too much of anything is not necessarily a good thing, even something lovely like yoga. We all still need some time to relax and replenish ourselves.

It's like I go into manic mode in the summer.

Yesterday I taught a yoga class, on Saturday I taught three classes in a row. I also taught in Friday, Thursday, Wednesday, Monday, all last weekend BLAH BLAH BLAH. That is a lot! I finished the wedding invitations yesterday (lovely!). Then Q and I decided to go to see Harry Potter and then I felt all sad about Dumbledore and everything, even though I do know what is going to happen. Then I got home and realized I had to fill out paperwork for Monday morning, get ready for bed, get clothes out for an interview and blah blah blah. All to wake up after 5 to teach yoga at 6:30. I've woken up super early to teach yoga five days in a row now. At this point, the idea of just waking up and rolling around on the mat doing yoga by myself seems like bliss!

I'm about to go on vacation so I'm already in that mindset of "I'm so out of here. Later." My class was total suckage this morning. I mean TOTAL SUCK. If you'd been in it, you'd have thought "what is UP with this teacher? Is she crazy?!" And you'd be like "Oh she's teaching from inside a Garbage Can" and then you'd remind yourself that you do NOT want to take yoga from a junkyard muppet who needs at least 2 hours of more sleep and a day with no hot room, just a nice long walk and maybe a nice cooling swim in say, hmm, a glacial lake perhaps?

So in that yoga space I was overheated, too tired and too grumpy and the stupid stereo was all crackly so I couldn't even play music. I'd let my mind wander to the to-do lists and then look around and think "oh yeah I'm teaching right now". I was ashamed of myself at the end of the class for being frazzled and stumbling over my words. I'm not the calm and serene yoga teacher, nope. Squash, squash, ego! The worst is that I went into teaching that class without any kind of plan, which I haven't done before. Note to self- Don't Dooo that! Rahhhhh!

Going to a yoga class at a regular studio on Friday night was utter bliss. A normal yoga class! I got to be the student! I only got a little sweaty! My mat wasn't gross! We chanted and as we held poses our wonderful teacher (who is like a nice and friendly muppet) read sweet little poems. I got to practice inversions, too.

So tomorrow morning I do have to wake up really early again but then I'm off on a plane to Boise where I'll see my bro and sister in law and then we're going camping with the Beagles in the Sawtooth Mountains. Then I can relax, I hope. No more obsessing over to do lists, poring over Craigslist job listings, scowling at moving boxes or pouring sweat on the mat for hours each day. At least for a week. At least for a week.

Kid at work: Hey. Do you like butterflies?

Me: They're okay.

KAW: Whaa?! Just okay?!

Me: I like them fine. I like birds better though.

KAW: WHAA?! How dare you bash on The Butterfly!

Me: I'm not, I'm just sayin' I like birds better.

KAW: Hummingbird.

Me: No, I like the bigger birds more.

KAW: No, YOU'RE a hummingbird!

Me: Hmm (sitting and thinking of how unlike a hummingbird I really am).

KAW: I'm saying that because I don't like hummingbirds.

Me: Oh thanks! What a sweet thing to say! Wow, you just made my day! So awesome!

KAW: Pshah *brushes hair from face and stomps off*

I have a weight problem.

But let me explain. I recognize that I'm an average size- size 8.5 feet, 5 feet 5 inches in height, and a weight that is right in the middle of the 'normal' range for BMI. I wear normal size clothes and spend many hours of my life wearing tight little yoga pants and while my thighs have always been bigger than I'd like, I think I look fine.

But I have a weight problem. And it is this: I have spent pretty much my whole life either thinking that I was completely overweight or actually being overweight. As a young kid, I was convinced I was fat. Strangely, I look back at pictures and see a kid who was kind of gangly and spent all of her time in the pool. I probably should have worried more about brushing my chlorine green hair every once in a while than anything else. As I grew older, I because less active and by the time I was about 16, was pretty heavy. I lost quite a bit of weight 5 years ago and have kept it off since. Practicing yoga helped me become more in tune with my body- recognizing when I'm full and when I'm hungry and also what foods feel nourishing and which just cause me to feel overly full and pretty gross (hellooo pizza!).

For a long time, I found pleasure through food. Eating was the highlight of my day. I loved pizza, candy and beer. I began to regard my heavier frame as a test for people to see if they could look past it and love me for who I am. If they couldn't then they were just shallow. I exercised rarely, often feeling overly anxious before hiking with friends, nervous I'd be the one lagging behind while panting and sweating. Sometimes I still assume I'm going to take up more room than I do. I see pictures of myself and am shocked at how different I look. In my mind I sometimes imagine I'm still that round woman, but I'm not. In my mind, I still regard food as a big treat, planning ahead for it and making justifications for why I can eat a lot. It is easy to slip back into those habits because I'm a pro at it. I know all the excuses- "these pants don't fit because I'm PMSing" or "My body is just like this" or "I'm just stressed out, I'll try harder next week" and then next thing you know, all your jeans are piled on an up high shelf and you're wearing your "fat pants" every day after work. Whoah, what happened?!

So in the past year or so I've gained a bit of weight. You would too if your partner cooked like the Q-dog does! I saw the scale creeping back up and my clothes became a bit tighter. For a while, I didn't think much of it. Then I'd try to lose, seeing a few pounds peel off and then I'd get back to the old eating habits of eating too much and too often or- even worse- putting off eating until I'm so hungry that I stuff my face with whatever is around. (hellooo chips and salsa)

So I decided to join Weight Watchers to lose those extra pounds before my wedding and also to help me feel a bit more comfortable when I'm teaching yoga. I was nervous going into WW because I didn't want people to think I'm some insane person with an eating disorder. I know I'm pretty "normal" but I need to get a hold of what is going on because I can easily slip back to my old ways, I could almost feel it happening. The people were really nice and helped me set a reasonable goal for myself of an 8 pound weight loss. Not a big deal, but to me it is the difference of feeling like I'm losing control to feeling really healthy and happy. I've now been on the program for almost one month and I've lost about 4 pounds. I'm wearing pants that have been shoved in the bottom of my drawer for months and I feel happy and healthy.

Through weight watchers, people track their eating. Members are allotted a certain amount of 'points' each day and each food has a designated point value, which includes calories, fat and fiber. Also, you get extra points for exercising AND each week you have 35 "flex" points so you can still go out and drink beers with your friends or eat ribs and cake or whatever, you just have to count it! SO it is very reasonable and easy to follow. What I've learned through tracking my eating with WW is that my eating habits really suck sometimes. I'll go days without eating ANY dairy products. One day I only consumed 8 points worth of food (I'm supposed to have 20) and yet I taught 2 yoga classes that day. The following day, I was RAVENOUS and tried to justify eating a whole pizza (Q held me back from that one, but I nearly did it!). Not good habits here!

So these were the things I was telling my group leader before the meeting on Tuesday. Another group member came in and our leader introduced the two of us. The leader stated "This is Megan and she was just saying yoga has really helped her to understand her body more". The other member looked me up and down, frowned and said "Well, you look pretty skinny to me". I shrugged it off and retreated into the meeting room, figuring that statement had a lot more to do with that lady's mental state than anything else! A woman working the desk followed me in the room and said "I don't think you look too thin, don't worry about what she says. It isn't just about losing weight, we all have reasons to be here". I thanked her for saying that.

This situation made me think of all the times I assume I have someone all figured out. That lady has NO IDEA that I used to chainsmoke, drink beer after beer and eat a pizza in one sitting. She has no clue that my self consciousness about my weight used to dominate my life and I just can't let it happen again, which is why I'm so careful about it. I want to feel happy and comfortable moving through life, not creeping through the corners, avoiding full length mirrors while tugging on my fat pants.

See, you just never know how it is for someone until you've walked around in their shoes, or in their old fat pants, if you will.

If you know any Yoga purists who scowl at ideas of yoga videos at home, yoga in the gym or even those Hot Yoga classes that are advertised to appeal to people who just want to burn calories, well then YOU ARE LOOKIN' AT ME. My interest has tended more towards the breathing and the relaxing in yoga; the working and sweating part just came along as a nice surprise, especially those years ago when yoga helped me lose about 30 pounds. I've recommended to people, probably about 3 billion times, to study with a certified teacher, in small classes, to ensure poses are being performed correctly. Then once you have a foundation you can practice at home and expand upon what you have learned. Yoga isn't Tae Bo! Then I forget my own experiences beginning yoga, which consisted of simply studying a book in the tiny front room of my African row house, sweating and struggling through the poses on my own. I set a candle behind me at night so I could look at my shadow to check alignment. And it was hot,- high temperatures and humidity which meant lots of sweating and slipping around. I didn't even have a yoga mat!

"Hot Yoga!" I've exclaimed to people, scowling, then lecturing on that Bikram teacher and how weird it is to actually copyright something as sacred and ancient as asana practice. I've lamented about the increase of yoga related injuries and the idea that people stretch too far in those heated rooms. Yoga isn't about pain! It is about life, about breathing, about loving and accepting yourself and all other beings! And yoga isn't just about the poses, it is about the breathwork and meditation and so much more.

My fiance's father said recently "Be careful to be too positive about anything you say". I didn't know what he meant at first but listened as he expanded on this statement. What he meant to say, but didn't come out as he likely intended with his strong Vietnamese accent, was "don't make definitive statements" because you don't know what will happen in the future and when you may have to eat your words. His case in point was his son-in-law, who had previously stated he didn't want to live in California again, and wouldn't, only to move his family back there just a few short years later for a new job opportunity. My almost father-in-law had a good point here, and one I've been thinking about quite a bit.

After all my slammin' on the hot yoga, guess where I'm teaching now? Yup. In a hot yoga studio. They hired me on the spot, eager to fill open classes and as I've realized in the yoga world, figuring I know what I'm doing since I have a lot of training under my belt (or under my stretchy pants, if you will, which should be made from a quick dry material for that hot room). I decided to take a class at the studio before actually teaching one, so I could kinda know what to do. I was told I could just teach like I normally would, it is just in a hot room. Okay. Hot room? Try CRAZY JUNGLE HOT. 104 degrees, to be exact. Gah! I sweat my guts out in that class and I've been surprised that after a few days of being in that room, sweating and stretching, my neck and shoulder muscles have actually loosened up (a miracle of miracles) and it feels really good.

The students come from a different background, it seems, than typical students of a regular yoga studio. They are athletes looking to stretch out a bit, to cross-train, to get in better shape. I don't know for sure, but it is obvious that they want to work and they are very patient. At first I thought their single pointed focus on hitting the poses as intensely as possible was disturbing. Then I realized that I have a real opportunity to present yoga and its wonderful benefits to all sorts of people who may not have happened upon yoga in another context. I can show them the pose foundations and then just encourage them to be honest with themselves and let their breath help them notice how the pose is working for them. It is actually pretty fun and I'm enjoying it. I've had a few students ask me "Um, what kind of yoga was that?" because they are used to Bikram sequences. This is funny to me, because I teach very traditional hatha yoga, or mix that with traditional vinyasa sequences based on my two different teacher trainings. But it is just a point to educate people on and they can do what they want with it.

So the moral of this story is, as my almost father-in-law put it, "don't be too positive about things" meaning don't be so sure that you've got it all figured out. I'm reminded, ONCE AGAIN, to be open and adaptive because you just never know what might happen!

Well one of you asked WHY I am moving again. That is a great question. After all, didn't I just move? And wasn't it awful and expensive and stressful? Yep! And I'm doing it again now.

GAHUHUHUHJHGHJGHJGHJGJHG errrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

That is an expression of frustration there.

See when I moved the last few times, there were a lot of compromises going on w/ roommates because that is what you do w/ roommates. But things got a little out of hand this last time. See readers, here's the thing- sometimes when we think we're compromising with someone and making a deal, we just are assuming that both parties are happy. When maybe neither is. This is not good. There were arguments and then I packed up my red bag really fast and then let's not forget the demands that I pay money that I still don't think I owe, but am paying simply because I just don't want to get into a conversation about it again. That doesn't count the money spent to pay a pet deposit and adding me onto the least of Q's place. Or the deposit and everything for the new apartment. Do I sound kinda pissy about this? Yes? Okay. Good. Because it makes me have GRUMPY FACE.

So here's a rundown of what's happening with all of this:

*Move out early of old apartment because compromise was made, seemed everyone was happy, and then everything got wiggity. *Move into Q's place with QUICKNESS. *Pay old roommate money she demanded even though I don't wanna *Pay new landlord hundreds of dollars to move cats in to CARPETED apartment (setup for disaster) *Live in said apartment for some months until Q's allergies go berserk, carpet gets grosser than it already was, we realize also that apartment just too darn small. Have I mentioned that I just hate carpeting? Or that it seems the building is falling in on itself? *Friends seridipidously suggest we try to move into apartment they know of that is AWESOME and seems to be VERY UNDERPRICED. Pay deposit for that place. *Pay for all the moving costs like the moving van, storage unit, etc etc etc oH yeah and *Plan a wedding while all of this is going on too Oh yeah and *Figure out job situation (more on this later, I'm sure!) Phew! This is a lot, isn't it. So really, we're moving because our place is too small, too full of carpet and cats (nasty combination) and it seems the building might be falling in on us. The new place is amazing, beautiful, spacious and in a fabulous neighborhood. Q can even walk to work. We'll live really close by a lot of our awesome friends. The cats will like it. We will like it. All will be fine, because we'll make it fine. Just gotta pack up and move again. Like, within the next few weeks. AND figure out what to do since we have to be out of our current apartment by a certain date and our new place won't be ready yet. Throughout this whole hair-ripping-out process of moving into one place, coughing up money from weird corners of our lives, and then planning to move into a new place, I've been thinking a lot of this saying from the Buddha: "Holding onto anger is like grasping onto a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else. You are the one who gets burned." Anger often feels completely justified and we cling to the big story behind it. But they did this, I didn't do anything wrong, and so on. But it doesn't matter. We're burning ourselves with that anger. I was watching one of those shows on Bravo. I love Bravo shows, especially the cooking one. This one was about clothing designers competing and what-not. Every time a designed did a really terrible job on a project and was subsequently berated by the judges, they inevitably flipped out. During the time in which they went to sit in the back room with the other designers to await their fate of being sent home, they CONSISTENLY blamed it on other people. They blamed their helpful assistant. Or said that someone else's dress was crappier than theirs. Or said the judges were stupid. It was sad to see, almost embarrassing, because it is so understandable. We do this during stressful or uncertain times. What we should really say is: I am so mad at you because I am scared and stressed out. I don't know what else to do. But it gets us nowhere. In the past few months, I've felt a friendship dissolve completely from this action. I've had similar feelings seeping into my worklife as well, missing my old program, missing my old positions and responsibilities and wishing for things that are very, very, very gone. And then that anger bubbles up because of the things that are gone. So the only resolution I've really been able to see is to just be honest with myself. I can be honest by pulling out those feelings I'm having, set them on a table and simply validate them, rather than letting my brain go all haywire "why am I feeling this way? I shouldn't... I shouldn't..." Anger is a surfacey type of emotion, usually bubbling up and making us do stupid things when there are really larger feelings going on underneath. So instead of just MAD GRUMPY FACE, I'm trying to bear witness to whatever those deeper running feelings are. This is helpful. I go through them like I'm cleaning out my purse: Oh I'm sad because I miss that? Okay. I'm sad. Hey, sadness. Oh I'm excited to get married? Okay. Excited. Hey, excitement. Oh I'm weary from having unreasonable expectations piled on me from friends? Be weary. Pull away. Oh I want to change some direction with things? Okay. Change it. I'm learning to trust myself a bit more. Besides, all these feelings are pretty temporary and they change all the time. Except for the feeling about disliking carpet. That one isn't temporary, nor do I expect it to change.

I'm still here. Still here more than ever. Just here. Reading, writing, hoping, planning.

August is coming so of course I'm packing up to move again (insert groan here).

Yoga all the time. Inhale exhale repeat.

Wedding plans. Aqua blue, white and navy. Shoes, dress, vows, venue, food and please NO pleated pants *shudder*

Slamming one door shut, an unexpected one is opening. Changes all over.

I'm needing a lot of reassurance lately but then find it by digging around in my guts. My guts are smarter than my brain most of the time.

I wish people would stop harrassing this Rob Pattinson person, you know Cedric Diggory, otherwise known as Edward. I feel very sad for him. Sure he's rich and famous, but he's accosted every day, has panic attacks and gets hit by taxis while running off in a panic.

I had a little test run of my wedding hairdo done this weekend in Oregon.  I have a whole bottle of hairspray on my little head.  I could taste hairspray in my mouth for hours afterwards, but it looks pretty.  Also, there are about 500 little hairpins holding all of this together.  

Went to Oregon with my ma to do wedding planning there.  A delightful weekend.  Things really fell into place.  Love the ocean. 

Best friend came to visit and we went wedding dress shopping and found the dress within just a couple of hours of shopping.  Love the dress. 

Sun is out. 

Went on Weight Watchers so I can feel nice and trim, partly for the wedding and just then for life.  I know, I am a healthy weight.  I just want to lose a few pounds and lately have been doing the boredom eating- trying to get it under control.  

Thinking a lot of about work and career and just have this big full feeling that I don't need to settle, I don't need to feel I have to do anything but that I can do what I want to do.  Feel that when we do what makes us sparkle and shine, it helps the world and resonates with others.  I'm heading in that direction pretty full force but really not sure what that's going to mean.  

Summer is here.  Sun is out.  I'm off to work. 

Love to you all.  

Dear Cuphead, 

Hey.  It's me.  You know, the lady who gives you the food.  The one whose feet you like to sleep on.  You know, the one who you always hope is opening a can of tuna fish when she's really opening a can of beans?  That's me, your beloved owner.  

When I adopted you those years ago, my heart really leapt out of my chest.  It was your little face, plugged up ears and the terrible idea that some creeps broke into the shelter where you were staying and messed the place up Big Time.  

You were pretty messed up for a while.  We had lots of trips to the vet to take care of your ear goobies and your respiratory infection.  I also was desperate to figure out why you drank enough water to fill a kiddie pool, but no medical reason could be found.  (Remember when you stuck your head in the cup and it stuck on your head and you got your name?  Ha ha!)  But you got better and we got to be good friends.  Most importantly, you became friends with Bob, who tends to be neurotic and was missing Alabama quite a lot.  

I love ya, Cuppers.  You are a great cat.  You are mellow, you are serene.  You even like being around other people now.  You hardly ever meow and when you do it is a cute little squeak.  You look at birds and make those kitty robot sounds that make me laugh so much and then it gives me a Crazy Cat Lady Story to tell at work.  You know how I love those. 

But here's the thing, Ms. Queenie Cuphead... 

Stop PEEING ON THE FLOOR.  

Why do you do this?  I clean the l-box all the time.  I give you space.  Bob and Q give you space.  I respect you, feed you and give you pets.  I even spare the idiotic anthropomorphizing of pets that happens so often.  I don't think you pee because you have daddy issues or because you're sad, I think you do it just cause deep down inside you're still kinda feral and you found a place to go that smells like pee from the LAST time you went.  Then I scrub it with resolve, Dr Bronner's AND chili powder (gets rid of the smell).  Sigh.  

And as your owner I am telling you 

this will stop

NOW

Regards, 

Megan (your owner.  I'm sitting right next to you right now)  

This is the best way to describe it...(which means I'm not going to write the BIG STORY on this very public blog, but read this little allegory and you'll get the idea). 

Driving to the chiropractor's office.  (I have a new one now, she is amazingly and wonderfully fantastic.  Need a holistic chiropractor in Seattle?  Email me and I'll recommend her.  She's amazing.  No violent crunching, but very very helpful and gentle adjustments, so that when I go home and sit down in the white chair my back goes poppoppop!  all on its own.)  

I wonder which way to freakin' go.  My phone dies while I'm driving (yes I know I shouldn't) and talking to a friend.  There's paint all over my hands (chakra paintings!  Kitty cat lamp lotus paintings!  All new!).  It's been an incredibly exhausting day.  I want to go home and crumple, just collapse in the corner with a dramatic sigh, let the cats crawl over me as the mewl for food.  They'll be lucky if I muster up the energy to feed them.  

Traffic is awful.  I avoid I-5 due to the lines of car waiting to get on the interstate.  F that, yo.  I instead turn to take University Bridge and wait and wait in a line of cars, wondering if I'll make my appointment on time.  (Will they charge me if I miss it?  What a pain.  Why do I go so far for the chiropractor?  Oh that's right, because the last one was so impersonal and offensive, just cracking and snapping and telling me the only thing I need to know is to come back three times a week!  That'll do it!)  

Um, no. 

It is hot in the car and I have no air conditioning.  I don't know the way to actually get to the chiropractor's office because I went from the interstate last time and approaching Capital Hill neighborhood from different directions often baffles me.  I'll wing it rather than stalling my car at the light with the map shoved up in my face.  

Rather than turning at the light to go up to Broadway, as usual when going into this neighborhood, I go straight since I'm headed to a different area.  Never been this way before.  The road curves and swerves.  I have no idea if I'm going the right way.  The road goes past huge and beautiful houses and then is enclosed by tall emerald trees, shading and swaying over the curved road.  Fit middle aged folks in their best biking-home-from-work clothes zoom down the hill while others toil up the hill.  There's no way to tell if I'm going the right way.  I'll keep going.  (shoot.  I'm going to be late.  I can turn around?  Can I?  WAHHHH.  Man, I can't see around these corners.  I hate driving on curvy hills!  Ahhh, don't want to hit a biker!  WAHHHH)  The road curves and curves.  Finally- a stop sign and an intersection ahead!  Breathe a sigh of relief, then wonder what way to go.  Feeling I'm in the right direction though, I turn right.  I head a few blocks.  I pull up to another stop sign and recognize everything.  

I'm 2 blocks away from where I need to go.  I know exactly where I am.  

Miraculous!    

(Wow!  I didn't really know what I was doing, but I kept going.  When I doubted myself, I just listened closer to my intuition.  And I got myself there.)

I go in the sage green walled office and swill water.  I'm early.  I enter the room and tell the woman I already feel so comfortable with about my day.  She offers advice and encouragement.  She works on my back, that area around my right scapula that is tight as a rope most days.  I feel a deep somatic release and begin cry into the table.  Embarrassed, I try to make myself stop and she tells me I don't need to feel like I have to stop.  She says "we all need to melt sometimes" and I realize it is true.  She feels that C2 is totally locked up and tears run down my face as she gently adjusts my stiff neck.  My neck releases and my thoughts feel smooth.  

I leave the office feeling soft, relaxed and decide to drive a different route home.  I find my direction without issue and realize that it can always be this way.  

Changes are brewing up around here at Gimme Insight!  After a long time of thinking it would be COOL to have a website where I can have my blog, cool links as well as show my artwork, I'm getting it together.  This will also be a home for information on my yoga instruction, as I hope that continues to grow.  So please stay tuned and I'll launch this badboy soon.  

IT SHALL BE RAD.  

Lately I've been blogging about friendship- here, here and here.  In these posts, I've pondered what is it to be a good friend, what do we do with challenges in our friendships, how much of friendship is acceptance and how much of it is encouraging people to do more (and where is that balance?). 

I'm the first to admit that I've done some dumb stuff.  Through making silly decisions, I've found myself in various deep holes that a mistake threw me into.  I had to figure out a way to dig myself out of it.  But I didn't do it alone.  And I didn't do it with friendships I lament because I feel judged or feel like there are unreasonable expectations on me.  I did it with the help of these amazing people I sometimes forget about- my incredible friends and family.  They didn't say "I told you so" they didn't say "Um no I already warned you about this" and turn their back to me.  They took a deep breath and pulled me up and even had a glass of wine waiting for me when I was out.  And I hope to do the same thing for them when they need it too.  

The closest I've come to resolution with my recent flood of friendship blogs is recognizing the recent challenges as a wake up call.  

Here I've been, crying over friendships that felt like such a struggle and ones in which I fear disappointing them and being judged.  In turning my attention towards situations in which I feel rejected, I've forgotten about those rock steady, incredible friends.  These are the friends that drive across the country with you, who don't hold it against you when you act like a crazy woman when they're getting married, who you can just chill out with and speak freely, and also the friends who will be really kindly honest when you've hurt their feelings about something.  I am so grateful to have so many great friends, all over the place.  I am a really, really lucky girl and I truly want to return the favor.  

So here's the real deal- when I'm feeling sorry for myself I forget that there is all sorts of awesomeness RIGHT UNDERNEATH MY NOSE.  

I want to make something really clear.  I've never been alone.  I'm now accustomed to these responses when I say I used to live in Alabama: "what?!  how awful!"  because for a Seattlite, living in 'Bama sounds like a nightmare- all that heat, humidity and all those conservative minds *oh shudder*  But you know what?  Alabama wasn't a bad place and I should make a point of voicing that.    

Recently a friend asked me how I was able to get through the Non- Wedding situation, when my wedding was cancelled and I still moved back to Alabama.  I told her that was a very hard time, but also a time when I felt very centered and healthy.  I had a long road of healing ahead, but I was on the right track.  Feeling centered was a direct result of the support I had from my friends in Alabama.  Several really good friends consistently went out of their way to be supportive to me, and they hadn't even known me that long.  They were incredibly kind and helpful, always including me and inviting me to do things.  Also, I had a great work environment with people who were really funny, smart and felt quite a bit like family.  I liked a lot of people in the school program, even though some of the classes seemed kind of weird.  I was really pretty happy there, I liked my job, I had a super sweet apartment that would cost about 4 billion dollars here in Seattle.  And again, my friends were great.  I never got any "I told you so" or "what the hell are you doing" from them.  I'm thankful for them, for being gentle with me and having fun with me.  

The first was sent from Q-man this morning: 

Beware the Crows outside the apartment.  They are nesting and are very aggressive.  They chased me around the block.  Best way to keep them off you is to hold your hand in a fist above your head, arm straight up (animal experts recommend).  You can also use an umbrella too.  Be very careful, they will swoop down on you. 

The second sent from Q's sister Truc, referring to the nieces: 

Hi Quyen,

The kids are glad they can call Megan  'Aunt Megan' now.  Robin is

even telling her us and her class that we have 2 pets in WA.  Their

names are 'Cuphead' and 'Bob'.  Her favorite cat is no longer white

but now it is 'Cuphead' color.  So you guys better get married.  ;o)

We are on break from yoga teacher training for the summer. I am about halfway done with the training. It has improved my practice dramatically. I feel dedicated, focused and energized.

This training has been an amazing gift. I did a teacher training a few years ago and had some difficulties with it, injured myself, taught before I was ready and then had a nasty falling out with my old teacher. Yuck. (on a side note: You may think, my reading my blog lately, that I have falling outs with everyone. I really don't. It has only happened a few times. These relationship difficulties affect me profoundly and each time has been a massive learning experience.)

So no yuck anymore. Yum.

"Yoga is more important than ever now." That is what my teacher Bob often says. His wife, Ki, my other teacher, agrees. We're seeing systems collapse and people are recentering and refocusing. This is bringing many back to the basics. Move. Breathe. Unwind. Connect.

I use yoga at work. Not just when I close my door to stretch but also during therapy groups. We do a stretch. We do breathing exercises to re-center when people are having a hard time (a breather break? I think one person called it! So awesome).

I recently applied for a grant to receive certification that focuses on teaching yoga to people who have dealt with issues like homelessness, substance abuse and a history of trauma. I just found out today that my proposal was accepted. So even in this panicked climate of the social services where programs all over the country are being slashed, yoga seems to be a priority.

This is what I want to do with my life. This is what I AM doing with my life. I love it.

"I'm so thankful for the universe for bringing me to you, My Teachers," one of my fellow students said to Bob and Ki yesterday. I agreed with the sentiment and it brought tears to my eyes.

And if the universe brings us those important folks who bring us lessons and deepen our lives, then the universe is also bringing me to question so much about friendships lately, as I've posted on this blog here and here.

My best friend from college has resurfaced. After years and years. Four years. The last time I spoke with her was right after my wedding was cancelled and I was in a pretty wacky state of mind. I was keeping it together by basically assuring myself and everyone around me that I was fine, fine, fine and staying quite busy. It took about a year for some of that hardness to give and for some of my more vulnerable feelings to come out. Anyway, it was a time I needed some check-ins from old friends. I was all the way in Alabama. I was alone, but not completely. I had cockroaches in my house and Hurricane Katrina had just happened.

So glad to see her smiling face again, even if it is on the weird little facebook page.  Glad that she looks happy, glad that whatever the reason was for years of no communication, she reached out.  Glad glad glad.  

Glad and then I feel flustered. I so want to know what she's up to, and part of me wants to know the reason for her being incommunicado for SOOO long. But then I feel frustrated. I want to write back:

How great it would be to know what I'm up to. Hmmm, like I didn't mention anything about it or let you know to CALL ME or EMAIL or SOMETHING for the past FOUR YEARS when I've CALLED and SENT CARDS, sent almost daily thoughts... But I wrote back. I wrote back a lot, just letting her know how things have been and eagerly asking how she has been. And hear nothing. Again. Familiar feelings of being judged, being rejected, they come up. I made myself vulnerable.  But that isn't a bad thing.   

I think this is my lesson.  I make myself vulnerable. However, when I do this it should be on my own terms.  Opening yourself up to others is life.  It is softening up, it is worth it.  And if the response is hardness, or even just silence, then it doesn't mean it was wrong to reach out or to speak up.  I didn't do anything wrong.  I'm just trying to be a good friend and I'm just trying to be kind to myself at the same time.  This balance has been challenging me a lot lately.  

Maybe it isn't as big of a deal as my head has made it out to be.  But to me, it feels full of feeling and meaning so there is something here for me.  I'll let it go soon.  But until then, I'm going to think on it and I'm going to put the energy not into apologies, appeasing people, trying so hard.  I'm going to put it into my friendships, into sharing, into reaching out, because it is worth it.  Then we can go to the park, I'll take you to target to return things, we can go see a show, you can come over and we'll watch weird 1980s videos on race.  I'll comment on your blog and help you move your car before your surgery.  

I'll be your friend and you are mine too.  Thank you. 

Today I received a text message from a mysterious number.  

It says 

Privet. Kak dela? Chto delaesh? 

The interweb told me this is Russian and I roughly translated it to: 

Hey dude.  How's it going?  What are you up to?  

While I am slightly intrigued by this, I'm told it might be SPAM (and not the kind Monty Python sings about).  So I'm just going to leave it be.  

It is absolutely beautiful here in Seattle.  On these sunny days I'm reminded of why I love living here despite the many days of rain, hoards of people all over, expensive everything and terrible traffic.  Then I actually felt pride for this city when I read this not so happy article on America's Unhappiest Cities, and Seattle didn't even make the top 10!  In fact, is all the way at 20!  You'll have to read the article to see what cities did make it in.  Mom.  Who thinks Portland is better than Seattle. 

Why am I getting all competitive about this?  I know it is silly.   

Q is presently horrendously ill and I feel so protective of him.  Must sit in the room with him to make sure he's okay.  He went to the doctor today and has pneumonia.  He has medicine now and is presently conked out on his codeine cough syrup.  He coughs when he sits up, doesn't make much sense when he talks and his eyes are glassy.  I tried to make him laugh and all he could muster up was the teeniest little smile.  

There's been this massive blog debate going on over at Mrs Broth's place these last few days.  If you are curious you should check it out.  The debate is on civil unions and gay marriage and I'm actually amazed with how politely and eloquently people are making their various points.  It isn't breaking out into the typical blog spats of vicious online ideological gangs declaring battle. That isn't happening at all Everyone is actually being pretty nice and civil.  I haven't had much to say on it.  I feel like the whole debate of should homosexuals be allowed to marry, to me, is like asking "should I be able to hug my cat?" or "should I be able to marry my boyfriend who isn't white?" and of course yes and yes.  I appreciate people really trying to think about these issues, but I do think I might have a brain aneurysm at some point when someone says that people choose to be gay, wouldn't everyone choose to be gay, then people will marry their goats, etc.  All those arguments.  

When we did mock legislation in high school, I wrote a bill on legalizing gay marriage that was pathetically shot down.  I lost all my faith in my fellow classmates and consoled myself by cursing and chain smoking, as per usual for high school.  I tried to bribe the silly jocks and pal alike to vote for my bill, but it died a quick and sad and, to everyone else, an obvious death.  Everyone was too concerned with writing fake bills to lower the drinking age.  Dumbasses.  

To illustrate my point, I referred to the separation of church and state and to the Declaration of Independence, which asserts...That all men are by nature equally free and independent, and have certain inherent rights, of which, when they enter into a state of society, they cannot, by any compact, deprive or divest their posterity; namely, the enjoyment of life and liberty, with the means of acquiring and possessing property, and pursuing and obtaining happiness and safety.

This seemed so obvious to me even at the age of 18.  My friends became flustered with me when I became so upset about it not passing.  "So stupid!  Stupid homophobes!" I yelled.  "What did you expect?" they asked.  

 Remember, it wasn't until 1967 that the Supreme Court said a white person could legally marry a black person.   I'm sure people had a LOT to say on that one back in 1967.  

Now this font is all messed up and my Chinese food just arrived.  Later.  

Thanks for all the suggestions about my old lady state of pain in the hip and back.  I've been sitting on an exercise ball at my desk and it helps so much!  Of course, people walk by and say "What are you doing?" or "are you doing an ab workout?" but I'm just trying to not sit all hunched over for 8 hours a day.   So my hip and back feel better, so much that I feel like biking, jogging, standing up, doing downdog 100 times a day.  Now I don't feel like an old lady.  

Well, the sun being out in Seattle may have something to do with that too.  

I should be wedding planning or flossing my teeth or something. 

Later.  

I've been thinking a lot about friendship lately. I didn't want to get into too much detail about it because I didn't know if my friend would read this blog. Then I realized I often don't blog about what I actually want to blog about because who may or may not see it. But, this is my blog. I already have to hold in all my funny social work stories for legal reasons, so allow me to spill the beans of my personal life now.

I had a huge falling out with one of my very good friends here in Seattle. It was really, really weird, sad, infuriating, upsetting, confusing, and so on. To make a long story short, it would be one thing if there were big disagreements and what not, but it was just I kinda thought everything was pretty okay and then would be approached with this:

"Are you going to be around later? I need to talk to you about something."

Okay, this scares me. Blame it on my non-confrontational, Scandinavian and Irish style upbringing, but that, to me, is like saying:

"I have terrible and awful things to tell you. They are likely about you being terrible and awful. But I'll wait until a convenient time to share with you."

So I would respond accordingly, dread bubbling up, by blurting out "OH GOD TELL ME NOW!" with dread in my stomach (and sometimes late for work as a result).

We'd talk and it was usually about how I did something that was upsetting to my friend and so I should try to do things differently, in general along those lines. I'd usually feel so bad that of course I'd try to do things differently, but at some point I just kind of wore out and found all of it really odd and kind of walked on egg shells, which never works too well. And really, like Yosemite Sam says (update: actually Mrs B Roth reminded me it is Popeye who says this):  I yam what I yam (and she is what she is, etc). I guess that became obvious that I was kinda ehhhh about these sit down talks because the last 2 times such a sit down talk occurred, my friend kind freaked out on me and yelled at me.

This is really, really challenging. When people yell at me I tend to either:

Yell back. And usually say really crappy things that I regret later. I've really worked on my temper a lot throughout the years and rarely do this now. Run away. Or leave the room. Or hide under a rock. Whatever. Yelling is scary. I don't like dealing with people's rage (who does?). This is the personal life me. You have to bear in mind that I've been yelled at in my professional life so many time I've lost count. It is almost like a shield comes up in front of me when someone yells and I see my distance from the issue so I can keep my cool and not make it about me because clearly, if they are freakin', it is about them. And usually ending the conversation is the best thing to do.

The personal life me bleeds over into the professional life me, and vice versa.

***************************************

"Is it me? Is there something I did?" I asked Q. He told me he doesn't really think so. Still, I know I'm not innocent. I'm a flawed, ridiculous human being. I am soooo stubborn. I process things verbally, which means I'm a venter, which can be awful to be around. I've had a lot of time and fruitful, difficult situations to recognize my tendencies and my challenges. This argument with the friend butts up against a lot of those realizations, things that are really important values to me when it comes to dealing with people:

Pick your battles. Carefully. Usually when something upsets me, I mull over it and usually decide it isn't as big of a deal as it initially felt. Also, I figure I'm taking it a certain way and should just think about it for myself. I will rarely confront someone about something that bugs me quite a while after the fact. This is probably also why when someone wants a sit down talk with me, I'm scared. Besides, sit down talks suck. Some of the worst days of my life were started off with sit down talks, including but not limited to 1. the day my wedding was called off, years ago 2. the day I found out my cat Thor was put to sleep 3. the day I found out my work program was closing. It is important to take some things up in the moment. I have adapted to this idea through training when I worked in a crisis stabilization setting for years. If you didn't talk about things RIGHT THEN, then there was no point. In general, this method works well. You don't use the best vocabulary, usually, but you're to the point and direct and since you're responding in the moment, you've barely had time to really project a lot of weird stuff on the situation. So this may come out like "Why did you DO that?" or "This is MESSY" or "This feels yucky" or something pretty direct and maybe even rude like that. Hey, it ain't perfect, but it is honest and that is something. Also, it is relevant at that time so something can be done about it. That is the main thing I like about this approach. And hey, it saved my butt about 10 billion times working at the stabilization program. When I waited to find the most diplomatic words to deal with a situation and waited a while? Yeah, didn't go so well and things got worse or by the time I brought it up, the issue was a moot point. I also find this method really helpful in my relationship with Q, then we can really approach something in the moment than talking about something that occurred a while ago, which can often bring up guilt, dread, defensiveness, etc. 'I statements'. Yep, I'm a trained therapist and it shows. An 'I statement' is a great communication tool and helps you take responsibility for your own feelings rather than blaming. So an I statement would be saying "I feel upset when I'm talking to you and you play with your I phone. It feel like I'm not being listened to when that happens." instead of saying "When you look at your I phone when I'm talking to you, you're not listening to me and you don't respect me! I'm not going to talk to you anymore!". **************************************************So what is a deep and meaningful friendship? Most of my friends I have known for years. In most cases, we've been through a lot and have learned a lot. But we don't exactly call one another out on things all the time but there is a lot of acceptance and healthy space in the friendships. Some friends said they felt guilty when I planned to marry years ago because they didn't like the guy. But they said they knew it was what I wanted to do so they didn't say anything, especially since I lived across the country and it was hard to tell if I was happy or not. When we broke up, they told me how they felt. I responded and said if they had said something, I just would have been mad, wouldn't have changed my mind and it likely would have hurt our friendship. I clearly needed to learn that lesson on my own. And it has been a HUGE life lesson that continues to inform me. I'm so thankful my friends saw me through that and didn't hold anything against me. So is a friendship just caring for and respecting someone, flaws and all? Even when they blurt out weird things and vent and complain and date grumpy poets you don't like? And then continuing to be a loved one when the life path shifts? Is a valued friend someone who can be called on, but who also respects that people got stuff going on? And giving people some loving space when you know they're having a rough time? Or is a friendship really calling someone out on things? At what point do you call someone out? Is it pointing out every time there is an issue or a concern? Challenging someone to step outside of their bullet pointed list of convictions? Being honest and expecting they'll do the same for you? And talking with them and helping them see outside of their point of view at times? My best answer right now is that it is a balance of these things. You just can't push people beyond where they are willing and able to go or you lose them. That is part of the ethical precepts of social work AND yoga teaching and I think it pertains to relationships as well. You have to meet someone where they are at and empower THEM to recognize what they have going on. This can be very powerful. So readers, if you are still here, what do you think? Have you ever had a falling out like this? How did you deal with it? What do YOU think the point of friendship is?

My hip feels all better.  Thank you, yoga. 

It is beautifully sunny.  Thank you, sun. 

We made really good artichoke dip.  Thank you, Full Circle Farm. 

When we came inside from running errands, the cats were cuddled and napping together.  Thank you, sleepy cats. 

We have an extra day off tomorrow.  Thank you, veterans and everyone else who has served this country or any other country.  Your service is appreciated.  

I'm having some real issues.  

First I realized my ribs were aching all the time.  I wondered if it was a heart attack at first.  It wasn't.  My yoga teacher recommended the chiropractor.  I went to one near my work.  He helped with my very, very tight shoulders and upper back and even my neck.  But the popping was a bit much and didn't really address the terribly tight and painful muscles.  Yoga helped a lot.  But everytime I've made progress I've gone two steps back when I go to work.  I sit at my desk and then it all goes to hell.  

Something about my desk set up is really hurting me.  The chiropractor said that my spine actually curves when I sit up due to leaning to the right to use the mouse.  PLus, I use a laptop on a desk.  And my chair doesn't actually fit under the desk.  I've tried some new things- I got a new chair with a plastic sheet to roll around on the ground.  They are giving me a desk top at work.  Q got me a wireless mouse and keyboard to help.  I am going to bring my exercise ball in today to sit on instead of my chair.  Also, I take TONS of breaks.  I'm always walking around the hall, or to the copy room, or going to the bathroom downstairs just so I can move around.  I'm wondering if maybe I should take 30 minutes at lunch to go on a longer walk.  I'm going to go to a different chiropractor recommended by a friend.  

Since yesterday my right hip has been hurting.  Yoga helps, as does Tiger Balm and ibuprofen.  But last night I could barely walk.  This is miserable.  I've had desk jobs before but I've never had these types of issues.  I'm actually nervous to go back in to work because it might stiffen up like that again.  

People are not made to sit at desks like this all day.  It ain't right, I tell ya.