Ellemental

The 12 Birthday Adventure choices fell into three categories: Artsy Stuff, History, or Adventure. Originally, the VIM was only going to allow me to draw one choice out of a hat, then he decided that I could draw one out of each category and would have to choose between the three. I negotiated until I was able to see all 12 before making my decision (because I HATE not knowing…). Having 12 choices instead of 3 was a stupid move on my part. Lesson Learned.

So, in yet another bulleted list, here are my 12 choices:

Artsy:

• Philadelphia museums (I can hear the screams from eastern PA now – “What do you MEAN you didn’t pick Philly??!?!???!!!!?????” ) )
• DC museums
• Woodstock, NY
• Fallingwater

History:

• Mid Atlantic Air Museum
• Monticello
• DC Halocaust museum
• Harper’s Ferry

Adventure:

• Camping Canoeing
• Hiking on the Laurel Trail
• Biking on the C&O Trail
• Elk Spotting

Anyone who has ever watched me agonize over ordering a meal in a restaurant will know that it was a tough decision, but it came down to this: Canoeing was really the only time/season sensitive activity. It gets harder to canoe as the summer goes on, since the river levels drop. Or if you prefer, it becomes more likely, as the summer goes on, that one will have to get out of the canoe and carry it over rocks. That sort of takes the fun and relaxation out of it, I’ve heard. So now was the time to do it. I also DIDN’T want a hustle and bustle weekend. I’ve had too many of those lately, and there will be plenty of weekends for some of the other stuff (and yes, Kacey, even a trip to the greater-Philly area.)

And I enjoy camping. Even the constant low-grade spider anxiety can’t squash my excitement. I like sleeping bags and tents and campfires. I like the fact that in the state park where we’re staying that there ARE showers and bathhouses, but they’re pretty far away. Just close enough to know that they’re there…

But I’ll tell you the biggest and the most real reason. I want to do something that will actually celebrate my birthday. I’ll be 37 years old. Out of those 37 years I spent about 15 of them being pretty significantly overweight. VERY out of shape. Not only would I probably not have had the stamina to make it through this kind of weekend, I surely couldn’t have done it emotionally. I rarely ever wore shorts. I didn’t own a bathing suit for YEARS. I didn’t want to be anywhere where anyone might *see* me, for God’s sake! And it’s really a shame, because as a kid I loved the water, I loved being outside, and I missed all of that. I’m not going to miss it anymore. Mostly, I picked this adventure because it was the biggest challenge – I’ve never canoed before, and I have no illusions that it will be a walk in the park. I have absolutely no doubt, though, that I can do it, and I can’t wait to prove myself right.

Thanks for all the nice comments and anniversary wishes of late. It’s nice to know that there’s a whole bunch of nice people out there!

I am in the midst of falling horribly, HORRIBLY behind in my daily blog reading / commenting and keeping my OWN journal up-to-date. I actually considered taking a day off of work to get caught up on my personal web agenda before starting the new web design and administration project.

A day off of work. For my own web agenda. Not a vacation day to till the garden or run errands. OR TO RELAX. No. Vacation day for my own web agenda. Yikes.

I’m going to be 37 years old in a few weeks.
I have prided myself in the fact that for most of my life, I have lived life my own way. Not necessarily the best way, but my way.

My way of living tends to focus on the NOW, rather than the “back then” or the “if when.” I’m not a goal-setter, and I’m not a dreamer. I believe that life happens, and I live fully in that life.

Lately I’ve been anxious. I’ve been feeling that I’m on the verge of something that I can’t quite put my finger on. I’ve been feeling that in 10 years or so I’ll look back to this point in my life and recognize it as a turning point. I think I’ve finally figured out why.

My life has changed more in the past year than it ever has. My “job” suddenly turned into a “career” without me realizing it. I’m suddenly responsible for stuff. I’m sitting on advisory committees and teaching classes. I’m starting to study for my certification exam. Next year (pending passing the exam) I’ll actually be a professional. A PROFESSIONAL. Gawd.

My secret hobby of web designing is no longer a secret, and I’ve been asked to redesign and administer a local arts website.

I’ve just been elected to the board of a local group.

My relationship with the VIM is solid. I’ve stopped breaking out in hives every time we plan something more than 2 or 3 months in advance. I’m losing that fear of committment, and I’m not sorry.

I got my hair cut and ACTUALLY MADE A 6-WEEK FOLLOWUP APPOINTMENT.

All my life I’ve feared being an adult. I’ve hated responsibility, I’ve had no confidence that I can stand on my own two feet and influence others. Suddenly, though, in the past 12 months adulthood has snuck up on me. It embraced my gently and allowed me to embrace it back on my own terms.

I’m feeling good about what’s lying ahead for me. I’m setting (small) goals and making long-range and long-term plans.

Being an adult isn’t nearly as scary as I thought it would be.

Better late than never.

This week is my 4 year blog anniversary. Amazing.
The old blog is no longer online, although I have it saved to disk and look back through it fairly often.

Because I’m suffering from blogger’s block, and because I want to mark my anniversary, I’ve copied four posts written during this week over the past 4 years.

Friday, May 18, 2001

Today’s Goal:
Get all the weekend stuff done (clean, family stuff, errands, etc) and still have a few hours of free time.

Today’s Lesson Learned:
Perhaps Sunless Tanner application is best left to a professional

Music to Blog By:
Who are You ~ The Who

Open Book:
Still in a holding pattern in “Closing of the American Mind”. I bought Cosmo today at the grocery store. Maybe tomorrow morning I’ll make some coffee, grab a bagel and stay under the covers till noon or so making myself feel like Big Hick Hilda by reading all the articles and looking at the pictures.

Twas a good good day. Did everything I needed to do and it’s still daylight. I actually considered calling Co and seeing if she wanted to maybe see a movie or hang out for awhile. I’m just in a “go out and DO something” mood. I decided I’m not in a good enough mood to deal with her for more than an hour or so though. I know I sound like a bitch, and maybe I am, but she is SO incredibly unhappy about everything in her life that spending any amount of time with her zaps all my energy and good spirits. Basically we are in the same boat…same age, both single, no kids. The difference is that even if I’m not thrilled about it, I can deal with it, and I am grateful for (and enjoy) what I have in my life. She, on the otherhand, is embarrassed that she is single, doesn’t understand how other females who are larger than her (and therefore less desireable, I guess) can be married with children. Badmouths all of her friends, then wonders why no one wants to hang out. Ok, I have definitely talked myself out of calling her. Everyone else is too far away for last minute plans, so I think I’ll make some popcorn and settle in with a movie. I’ll have to lie to Ga when I see him again. He always asks me what I do on the weekends, and if I say “oh, just hung out at home” he gives a sad little shake of his head and says “you’re in the prime of your life…you have to get out there!” I think he wants to set me up with his son, who is like, 23. I don’t think he realizes that I’m 32. (that would REALLY make him shake his head sadly!) All of my friends have guys they want to set me up with…all these available guys floating around me, and yet I can’t seem to connect with anyone. I’m beginning to think it’s me and not them.

Sunday, May 19, 2002

Just call me Tippi
Did you know that really big blackbirds love the taste of dry cat food?

It’s true. I couldn’t figure out why there has been an exceedingly disgusting amount of bird shit on my front porch lately. This morning I put the daily bowl of Friskies at the edge of my porch for Bob the Cat. (During the week I perform this task as I head out the door on my way to work.) I came back inside, poured my coffee, and sat down to blog. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flock of blackbirds flying low past my front window. Seconds later, they turned around and landed on my porch. Loudly. I peeked out the window to find them crowded around the little bowl, squaking, flapping, hopping. It gave me the heebie jeebies. No wonder I haven’t seen Bob the Cat around in the mornings. The birds probably scared him away. No wonder my neighbors give me funny looks when they see me.

Friday, May 16, 2003

Oh, about the shit and the fan:

The shit has not yet hit the fan. I decided to stand up to the shit. I looked the shit in the eye and dared it to hit the fan. I took the freakin’ fan and Held It Up in the general direction of the shit. The shit refused to budge. The shit has lost interest.

For now.

Monday, May 17, 2004
There was a time when I said

I’d never stay in this small town where I grew up.
I’d never have the patience to have a garden.
I’d rather have my arms torn off and be beaten with them than listen to a Bob Dylan song.
I’d never be able to drive a stick shift.
I’d never eat eggplant.
I’d never have a savings account.

Things change.

We had a little storm this weekend. The rain and wind and thunder and lightning couldn’t have lasted longer than 15 minutes, but it was enough to do in the tree. The wind took one of the two remaining large branches, leaving the trunk and one spindly branch.

“Which way did it fall?” I asked when my grandmother called to tell me. Visions of the neighbor’s car dented and scratched under the brush danced in my head.

“Toward the garden (away from the car *whew*), right on top of the birdbath.”

The next day she told me that she called some guy with a chainsaw and chipper and he came the same night as the storm to start clearing the mess. He told her that the job would probably take him a few days, and asked if she had any special instructions for him. All she wanted to know was if he could cut the branches away from the birdbath first. The birds, she explained, had already lost their favorite Crabapple perch. She didn’t want them to have to search for water, too.

I worry about the neighbor’s car. My grandmother worries about the birds.

I want to be more like my grandmother.

I have a confession to make.
I hate spiders. I mean I really, REALLY hate them.

Yesterday morning at work, I walked into a stall in the restroom to find a spider dangling from a web directly at eye level and heading down. I yelped like a little puppy. It wasn’t a giant spider or anything…it’s just the thought that just a few minutes earlier, and I could have been sitting there with an unseen spider hanging RIGHT OVER MY HEAD, just waiting for the opportunity to land in my hair. oooooOOOOOOooooo God. I feel woozy just thinking about it. The rest of the day I avoided that stall, but kept looking up at the ceiling vent directly above it. And sure enough – the spider sat there all damned day. Every time I looked, it was there. Just waiting…waiting for me to forget it was there.

“Some day, little girl, you’ll forget about me, but I won’t forget about you…oh no…”

I need therapy. Or to stop drinking so much coffee.