A Natural Part of Life

I just said goodbye to one of my co-workers who is leaving the company. We've worked together for nearly two years and I'm probably closer to him than anybody else I work with. He was the one I could go to when I was new and learning the ropes. Even now, he was always there when I needed help with something or just wanted to chat. We goofed off together when we didn't feel like working and he even drove Hubby and I to our hotel on our wedding night in the limo he owns. But saying goodbye to him was just like saying goodbye for the day or the weekend. It didn't really hit that this could be the last time I see him.

As I thought about that I thought about all the other goodbyes I've said that were probably goodbye forever. Teachers that had an impact on my life, friends I left when I moved away, high school friends that we promised always to keep in touch with and then drift apart, co-workers, friends from my time in Cleveland, etc.

The thing that really hit me was that for every person I've had to say goodbye to there has been someone else to whom I've said hello. I've heard it said that losing is a part of life, but so is gaining. You gain things from the lost friendship: awareness of self, fond memories, new ideas and better understanding. And you also gain new friends and acquaintances. I believe people are in our lives for a reason. The time always differs. Some people for a few minutes, some for a day, a week, a year, many years. But there's always a purpose and things to be learned. Bring it on!

Big Blue Wet Thing

Yesterday I baked a cake. It wasn't just any cake. It was a fishbowl cake. Let me explain. A houseful of girls I know were having boy problems and really needed some cheering up. So I made them a cake. But this one had some significance to it. First, I baked two 8 inch round cakes (actually Hubby did that part). After they were cool I mixed up some frosting. I left part of it white and made part of it blue (my fingers are still blue from the food coloring squirting all over the place). Then I put some frosting between the two cakes, cut the top and bottom of the cakes so they were flat and stood them up so they were rounded on the sides but flat on the top. Then I smeared blue frosting from the bottom to about 2/3rd of the way to the top - all the way around the cake. Next I put write frosting over the rest, except for the flat top I made mostly blue. Voila! A fish bowl! We decorated with nerds at the bottom for rocks and goldfish crackers for the goldfish. I titled it a "there are always more fish in the sea" cake because, you know, if things don't work out with one boy (or girl) they'll probably work out with another. It was quite hilarious taking it over to the house of girls. It was standing upright and it was a little bit wobbly. I sat in the passenger seat holding it while Hubby drove and any time he hit a bump or a bumpy patch of road it would start to wobble and I was afraid I would dump it in my lap! Then the frosting started melting down the sides of the cake and puddling around the bottom. We turned the A/C up full blast to try to keep it cool and melt free but there was still a little puddle of frosting around the bottom of the cake when we got there. Oh well. It sure tasted good!

The Stars Were All Aligned

I permed my hair.

It's probably the third perm I've had my entire life. But it was time for a change. My hair's naturally board straight and has difficulties doing anything besides that. Which makes for a lot of product and a lot of time every morning trying to get it to do something else. Board straight is not a good look for me. Perms are a lot easier to deal with in the morning and Hubby wanted to see what my hair looked like curly. So far so good.

When I was in high school sometimes I wore my hair in ringlets. One day we had an assignment in English class to go around the room and write down what we thought each person in the class was "most likely to be." I was voted "most likely to be the next Shirley Temple." I could sing, I could dance, I was little, and I had the hair. That pretty much stopped the curly look for me until last night. "On the good ship Lollipop..."

I also started my summer classes yesterday. I'm excited for the things I'll learn in the classes I'm taking but I have a feeling this semester is going to kick my butt. I have a ton of reading for all three classes and several long, hard papers for each class. What was I thinking? Especially Cultural Anthropology. Our first assignment is to go to a place (as a fly on the wall) that's culturally outside our comfort zone 5 times for an hour each and observe the goings on as an anthropologist and write a 3-5 page paper about it. Some of the suggested places were gay culture, strip club, tattoo parlor, bar, sporting event, worship services, Pioneer Park, Wild Oats Market. And we have to go by ourselves. My dilemma is that most of this stuff doesn't make me uncomfortable and the ones that do, there is no way in Hell I'm going by myself. I've thought about maybe a homeless shelter or a nursing home. Outside my comfort zone but fairly safe and culturally different. I'll let you know what I decide (suggestions are welcome) and maybe I'll report my findings on here. It's due in about 3 weeks. Pretty tricky but I'm always one to rise to a challenge rather than transfer out of the class:)

My other dilemma is for my English class. We're each supposed to bring in a piece of music and the class is going to listen to each one and do a review of each piece. I take my music very seriously. You can learn a lot about a person by the kind of music they listen to. What do I want my piece of music to say about me? Do I want to take some contemporary and popular pop/rock/alternative or would that say I'm boring and only listen to the latest stuff on the radio and really have no taste? (Speaking of, Radio People: can you please stop playing Simple Plan on my radio? I recognize that this is their way of expressing feelings of being misunderstood and they're music's really catchy but really, they're just a bunch of whiners. Welcome to life! We all feel cheated and misunderstood and life done did us wrong. Get over it! Don't tell me I don't understand. We've all been there, done that. It's a part of growing up. We DO know how you feel.) Do I want to take classical or jazz and show a more well-balanced musical side? Or would I just look like a snob? I don't know about taking some of my more favorite music. The songs I like best speak to me personally and I don't know if I want the class to read that much into my personal life. Or am I really just making too much out of this and nobody but me reads into the type of music a person listens to?

Rainy Days and Mondays

I've been at work for two hours and I'm already done with all work for the day. That really hasn't happened for a long time - lately there's been plenty of work to do. But not today. I hate days like that. The only good thing about today is I'm wearing the dang cutest outfit ever! But that's not enough to keep me occupied for the next 7 hours. Wow, that's going to be a really long time. I'm going to have to become amazingly creative in coming up with ways to stay busy or I'll go crazy.

I spent Saturday night with people I became friends with shortly after high school. It's amazing to think it's been 7 years. For a year or two we all spent a lot of time together but over the past several years we've only gotten together at the occasional wedding or other special occasion. I definitely hadn't been to Red's house for at least 4 years and wasn't quite sure I remembered the way but we made it just fine. The road to Red's conjured up a lot of old ghosts. Some pleasant, some better left buried. It had been a long time since I thought of the old days but they all came flooding back. I realized how far I had come since then and how many things have changed. It was good to see Red and Hey Buffy. The only awkwardness came when someone asked how Aphrodite and I knew them. We don't talk about The Commando anymore. I think we all like to forget how we became friends that summer so many years ago.

But Sometimes It's Just Too Easy

I used to wonder at how easy it was for some people to come up with suitable nicknames for others. I was never one to which this came easily. Until Hubby and I joined our new congregation. Our first week there I spotted him. He was quite rotund and a little creepy and looked surprisingly like Pumba from The Lion King (without the tusks, but still). I think Hubby was the one to actually name him but it fit. He'd get up every first Sunday and go on and on about nothing relevant and everytime I saw him I started thinking "Are you achin' for some bacon?!? He's a big pig!!! You can be a big pig too!!! Oy!!!"

But that was just the beginning. About a month or two ago an older couple moved into the congregation. The man was tall and skinny and wouldn't shut up. He seemed to get up right after Pumba on the first Sunday of the month. You guessed it, Pumba's sidekick Timone! Or maybe it's the other way around. At any rate...

Then last week there was a special musical number. Being a rather musical person myself I'm not partial to special musical numbers. At least at church. Very rarely is there actually a really incredible special musical number. Usually it's people who think they are wonderful singers but really should never be handed a mic. I turn into Simon Cowell during special musical numbers. I try to appreciate their efforts and listen to the message of the music but it's usually so overpowered by screeching and howling that it makes listening to anything rather difficult.

Last Sunday was no exception. It was a very nice lady that I've gotten to know a little bit since we've joined this congregation, but still, she should not have been handed a mic. And as she was standing at the pulpit singing away I couldn't help but lean over to Hubby and whisper "She reminds me of Miss Piggy!" And Hubby responded, "I was thinking the same thing but couldn't decide if I should tell you or not!" We couldn't help but giggle. I always tend to giggle during special musical numbers. It's uncontrollable. I've tried. I can do solemn as long as it's not during a special musical number.

Then, to top it all off, Hubby leans over to me and whispers, "I guess we know who Kermit is!" And I look over at Miss Piggy's husband and it's true! He's the spitting image of Kermit the Frog, except maybe not so green. So I think it's all starting to make sense, this nickname business. I don't know why it really only works for me at church, and maybe that's the worst place for it to work, but sometimes it's just too easy.

Mmmmmm.... I want cinnamon graham crackers....

That is all.

And then, sometimes the fates conspire against you.

Yesterday Hubby decided to take today off so we could spend some time together. His last final was yesterday morning and for the last week he's been doing nothing when he got home from work but study calculus. So he was ready for a break and some "us" time. We had all kinds of things planned for today. Mostly preparation for the rest of the weekend. Laundry, grocery shopping, different errands, and of course some rest and relaxation.

But wouldn't you know that last night the other gal I work with (we take turns at the front desk and today was supposed to be her day) called to see if I would work for her today. Her daughter was supposed to go with her granddaughter's class fieldtrip to the zoo but her grandson was sick and her son-in-law was out of town and the daughter asked her to babysit the sick grandson so she could go with the granddaughter's class to the zoo and "not disappoint her".

Seeing as I'm a sucker, and also don't want to be responsible for the granddaughter someday ending up in therapy because her mother let her down when she was supposed to accompany her class to the zoo, I consented to come in. And I've been kicking myself ever since. But what can you do?