Snow at the Beach

Last week was crazy.  Some things came up, and we had to reschedule/move some things around and the end result was getting a beach weekend with my sweetie a week early!  Just when I had gotten everything rescheduled, and things were good to go it starts to snow.  Seriously.  But all was not lost.  My sweet husband comes from a world where snow isn't as big a deal, and he has a jeep.  We proceeded as planned.  Really, the roads weren't bad.  There were trucks putting down gravel, and we saw at least 8 snowplows go by.  The only problem we had were the people who probably shouldn't have been on the road.  A drive that usually takes us about an hour and a half ended up taking more like two and a half hours.  By the time we got to our getaway, it was too dark to take any pictures.  The above photo was what we were greeted with in the morning.  There was still snow on the beach when we left a few days later.  It was a really lovely weekend once we got where we were going.  It was quiet, lovely, and restful.  Thanks sweetheart for jeeping us away this weekend!

Anxiety

My brain, on the inside, is a complex labyrinth of insanity.  You wouldn't always know it just talking to me, you have to get through some of those protective walls before you see the crazy those walls are protecting you from.  Sometimes, as I'm lying awake at nights I'm decorating my labyrinth with owls and other knick-knacks and fretting about things I have no idea why I'm even fretting about them.  And then I started fretting about fretting about un-fret worthy things.  It wasn't until yesterday, while instant messaging with a friend, that it kind of dawned on me that I may be suffering from anxiety.  This is pretty much how it all unfolded: 

(edited for relevance, to protect the innocent, and because I am apparently the worst speller on the planet.)

(Also, I'm changing my friends name and for fun I'm going to call her Loki.  Just roll with it.)

Me:  I slept like crap last night and I am actually wondering if perhaps I have some anxiety issues...but then I think that's lame and I don't really think that's my problem, but then I wonder when I can't fall asleep because I'm anxious about things like where I'm going to park my car.  Seriously.  WTF is wrong with me?

Loki:  That actually does sound like anxiety, and there is NOTHING lame about that.

Me:  I seriously get anxious about really lame things.  Like parking my car, or driving my husband anywhere and how I'm going to get us there.  It's worse if I'm not confident about where we are going.  I'm clearly mental.

Loki:  Well, yeah.  Obviously.  But it doesn't have to be a major thing to be anxious about for it to be anxiety.  I think it's the little every day things that make it an anxiety issue.

Me:  It makes me anxious just thinking about it. My mom always called me a "worry wart."  I really hate that term.

Loki:  No, that is a shitty term.  But so is anxious I suppose.

Me:  Great.  I'm like of of those nasty little "toy" dogs (that I hate) that pee/crap on everything because they are flighty, nervous (anxious) little things.  Or high strung.  OMG I'm a fucking poodle. Worse, I'm a toy poodle that pees in the stupid dog purse I'm carried around in!

Loki:  No.  NO YOU ARE NOT.  You are more relaxed about things than you realize.  You don't stress about everything, just certain things.  If we are doing the dog comparison thing, I'd liken it to a perfectly well adjusted dog with a bit of separation anxiety.

Me:  I internalize.  A lot.  Arf.

Loki:  Okay, you might chew on shoes sometimes, but you don't cower and pee.

Me:  ROFL

Loki:  I think internalizing is part of it, hold on...

Me:  You left me, I'm alone and anxious...

Me:  Hello?

Me:  Arf?

Me:  I think I need to pee... (J/K)

Loki:  http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/generalized-anxiety-disorder/DS00502/DSECTION=symptoms  I'm not diagnosing you, I'm giving you information.  I think if you feel it is actually interfering with your life... you should see what your options are.

Loki:  And good grief.  Do I need to start putting down newspapers when I walk away? J/K

Me:  Ha ha!  Okay, reading now...

So I go and look at the symptoms, and the causes and the medications and the risks... and thought that perhaps it is plausible that I have a bit of an anxiety problem.  Having said that, not enough that I want to go be on medications or talk to a head shrinker.  On every page it did some to indicate a high potential to become dependent on medications or alcohol.  

Me:  Great, I could become an alcoholic... I'm going to be anxious about that tonight while I'm drinking my wine.

Loki:  OMFG  Laughing so hard right now, even though it isn't really funny.

Me:  My drinking comment?

Loki:  Yes.  Sorry.

Me:  I was trying to be funny  I make inappropriate things funny because I have the same problem and feel better if I'm not the only one laughing.  It defuses the situation and makes things less awkward.  

Loki:  It's a good thing we are friends!

I have awesome chats with people like that all the time.  That's just how my friends and I roll.  But in all seriousness, anxiety isn't really a laughing matter.  It keeps some people from ever leaving their house.  For me, if I am really suffering any kind of anxiety issue, it just seems to make my tummy full of freaked out butterflies and stress about how things are going to work out.  Stress can exacerbate (that means to make things worse (may all my Shaun of the Dead fan friends giggle)) things and maybe that has been part of my issue as of late.  Things usually mellow after the holidays, so maybe that will be a better time to gauge things.  You know me, I'll probably just ignore it (and fret about it) regardless. 

Sometimes You Shouldn't Share...

I have worked at some pretty interesting places over the years, and have learned much from each experience.  One of the places I really enjoyed working for was a small non-profit called Salem Childbirth Education Association.  It was a small organization that offered childbirth preparation classes, that were supposed to feel less biased than what you would get through the hospital.  It was a good group of people, but sadly demand dwindled and the organization had to close its doors.  I learned a lot about what to expect when you are expecting, and how to talk to pregnant women (and partners) in various stages and emotional ranges of pregnancy.  I also leaned what not to say.

I recently overheard a conversation today that has me wondering if there is going to be contact from an angry husband.  A man was talking to a woman that just recently (not even a week ago) had her first child.  The conversation started out innocent enough, talking about gender and baby's name.  Then it went into sleeping (and lack there of) and how she was feeling.  Then, this man tells her that he hopes she doesn't have any lingering changes like his spouse did.  Danger. Danger.  Then he goes on to say how after the first child she was unable to consume milk, she had developed a milk allergy.  The woman got quiet and sounded concerned while asking if she could drink any milk at all.  No, he tells her.  And then he tells her how after the second child she developed new food allergies, along with the milk allergy.  She timidly says she hasn't noticed any changes like that yet.  He then goes on to tell her other things like sleep issues and on and on.  This poor woman with the new baby was dead quiet.  She is either freaking out inside, because that is what new mothers do.  Their bodies are different now, for better or for worse, and it's terrifying for some women to experience these changes.  It's best not to scare the new mother, any more than she already is, I would have thought that would be common sense.

**the situation above is modified and generalized to protect the parties.  You get the idea.

Mortality

Yesterday I learned someone I went to High School with passed away.  He wasn't a close friend, or even someone I spent a lot of time with.  He was someone I would stop and talk to in the hall.  Later in life when I would be home from college and ran into him where he worked he always made time to ask me how I was doing and how life was treating me.  I never heard an unkind word from him, and I never heard an unkind word spoken about him.  Jed Haft was just a really nice guy.  He leaves behind a wife and three pretty adorable daughters.  I don't know his family; I honestly can't remember the last time I saw Jed.  Once I officially moved out of my parents house I spent as little time in our home town as possible.  My heart goes out to his family, and those people that his life touched-and from judging by his Facebook page that was a lot of people.  

When someone you know dies it makes you think all kinds of crazy things.  It makes you look at your own mortality, and the mortality of those you love.  It can make you think about the type of person you are, and wonder will people speak kindly about you when you are gone?  

What hit me when I heard the news, besides the sadness of the world losing the type of person it is running sort of, it just how quickly my world could be taken from me.  Jed and his wife had plans, and things to look forward to.  There are three little girls who now have to grow up without their dad, and do all those things girls need a dad for without theirs.  His wife has lost her rock, her partner through raising their children.  Just imagining not having David makes my heart hurt in ways that I don't believe the English language has found words to describe yet.  

Jed's passing is a painful reminder we have no idea how much time we really have.  If you will excuse me, I have to end this so I can get home to snuggle with my David.

Checking In

I'm still here!  Life has just been really busy.  I would have blogged about some of it, but I have this real problem about comfort level of what I share.  David and I are pretty private people.  I think I"m more comfortable sharing than he is, but I have my limits.   And when it comes to things going on in our lives, I have a really hard time determining the line between okay and not okay.  And, rather than talk about something David would rather I didn't... I just don't blog.  That's not a complaint, I'm a firm believer of "when in doubt, don't do it" and I'm comfortable with that.  But that has made blogging kind of complicated lately.  Also, I'm not exactly comfortable blogging about work stuff.  I'm pretty sure my boss still reads my blog, and in my line of work I know the ramifications of blogging about work stuff.

So it's safe to say, work and personal stuff have been keeping me pretty occupied lately.  Until I can find the balance between okay and too much information that's just gonna have to work for now.  We are still here, just have a lot going on.  I'll try to be better at sharing some stories of the ridiculous-I do still shop at Safeway. ;)

13 Years Ago My Life Began...

13 years ago today I married my best friend.  Best friend, soul mate, kindred spirit... all of those are appropriate, but don't even begin to encompass how I feel about David.  Yeah, this post might get all sappy.  Still being madly in love with the man I married 13 years ago entitles me to make sappy posts.  (sorry sweetie) 

I am indeed barefoot, dragging my dress through the sand and surf.

It was a really lovely day.  It started out overcast-which was fine.  But then after the ceremony, we had perfect pictures on the beach weather.  So much of the day is a blur.  I remember getting ready, I remember regretting some of the choices I had made regarding some of the people present for said getting ready, but even then said people didn't ruin my day.  Once that dress was on, and I was permitted to scuttle (really, it's hard to do anything but scuttle when you are hurrying in a really heavy dress) into the church so David and I could see each other and do pictures before the ceremony.  I remember David seeing me in my big poofy dress for the first time.  I remember standing in the same place for a really long time as people are paraded around me and my huge dress for an assortment of pictures (which I treasure now-even if my smile is tired in a a few of them). 

Aren't we cute?

I remember it being time to walk down the isle, and I remember looking at David through all the talking during the ceremony.  I remember the friends and family that came, because there had been so much other stuff going on (another wedding, a birth, a death) that I was surprised anyone came at all.  But through all of that, and some of the sadness that loomed, my David was ever steady.  

Yes, those are stained glass birds attacking us, but we don't care!

A pretty amazing day has turned into a pretty amazing 13 years.  We have been through a lot, and have weathered it all.  I can't imagine life without him.  Thank you, David, for putting up with all of me.  I'm not the easiest person to live with sometimes.  I really do fall in love with you all over again every day!  Bring on the next 13 (and more) years!

Off we go!

Just When You Thought It Was Safe

As I was getting ready to start my maneuver to go up the driveway and into the garage I noticed a dead bird in front of our neighbors house.  Not only did it upset me, as those of you who know me know I have a thing for several of our feathered friends, but I also didn't line up just so in the garage and had a bit of a grumpy about that.  I climbed out of my car and went down to see what kind of feathered friend it was.  My initial fear was that it was a crow, but saw it was too light.  Then I thought it might be our Cooper's Hawk that visits and eats a small bird or two.  Upon examination I realized (*sob*) that it was a mallard hen (*sob*).  She was smaller, so I think she was a younger hen.  She was on her back with her wings point up and her feathers were beautiful in the later afternoon sun. Her poor little head was turned to the side and barely attached to the rest of her sweet little body.  I was broken hearted, to say the least.

The neighbor, who's basketball hoop she was resting in front of, was outside mowing his lawn.  He saw me and came down to add to the story.  We have another neighbor that is elderly, retired, and likes to be in everybody's business.  Seriously.  If we are having work done on our house, he's outside talking to the workers asking about having things done at his house.  This is going to get confusing, I'm going to call the neighbor with the basketball hoop Clyde and the busybody neighbor Jones.  Clyde tells me he had discovered the duck earlier, as had Jones.  He said Jones had been outside almost watching for him to come out.  He came over and told Clyde not to worry, he had already called the police and was going to be looking into the matter.  He had also drawn a chalk outline around the duck.  By this time, David knows I'm home and is wondering why I haven't come into the house so he comes out looking for me.  I, of course, urge him to come over to where Clyde and I are talking.  Clyde feels him in and we are back to the chalk outline of the crime scene.

Seriously.  Look:  

Pardon any gore-I took this picture the following morning after she had been taken care of.  

I find this outline to be incredibly sad.  *sniff*

Jones also told Clyde he would be increasing his patrols.  Great.  

We do have some little shit heads living in the neighborhood, but I'm hopefully that they wouldn't be so evil as to kill a duck.  Clyde believes it made hard contact with his basketball hoop because there was evidence on said hoop that he was going to have to clean up.  But the lack of connection between head and body was concerning.  I don't want to think about it; it makes me feel weepy and icky.  

I will mourn for the sweet (possibly daft) duck, and hope it was a very unfortunate accident rather than the stuff that makes a Mike Myers.