Last week was a whirlwind. Seriously.

(Recap for those who are new: I moved to a new house in a new town. Granted, it was to the county next door, but still. The closing was set for Monday. Last minute issue–flood insurance. My lender WOULD NOT approve my mortgage until I purchased flood insurance. Suddenly, I wondered if the deal would fall apart. Who wants to live in a flood zone?? If only this had surfaced earlier! No, I still wanted the place (It is not in a flood zone, there is a slight technicality being corrected.) New stress–I told my landlord I would be out by Thursday. Tuesday and Wednesday ticked by. Homeless? I got permission from my buyer to move in early. (There was never any doubt about this–he left a key for me when he moved out. We just had to make it official as in sign ONE MORE form.) The moving company showed up at 9AM on Thursday–I scheduled the appointment for 1PM. Nevertheless, by Thursday evening, I was the legal owner and moved in. What did I learn? The world doesn’t end when things don’t go according to my carefully laid out plans.)

I turned in the keys to my loft on Friday. It wasn’t especially nostalgic. I looked at the late afternoon sun streaming through the bedroom windows one last time, locked the doors, checked the deadbolt, and left. Oh, and I prayed for the next person who would live there.

I didn’t experience my usual sentimentality about leaving a place, although on Tuesday my heart experienced a twinge of sadness when I went to the library to turn in my books and cancel my holds. The library occupies a special place in my life because I used to work there. Saying my silent goodbye to that wonderful building was actually difficult. (Which reminds me, I need to get my new library card on Monday.) I will miss my Tuesday night book runs/US Magazine reads.

A period in my life ended and new one started. I’ll keep you posted.

Things I Just Learned

I am allergic to whatever kind of pepper(s) was/were in the pimento cheese.

The world was going to end when Clinton was in Office, according to some. The world was going to end when Bush was in Office, according to some. Obama is in office. The world is still going to end. According to some.
(A note from me: Please, please leave me out of political conversations if any of the above mentioned are a cornerstone of your belief system. I didn’t survive deep depression to worry about things that are trivial in the grand scheme of life. If you have proof, definative, solid PROOF the world is going to end because of the current administration, however, do let me know. And I do believe the world will end at some point, but not because of POTUS or Nancy Pelosi.)

That’s it for today. Happy thoughts!

A Borrowed Phrase

A friend captioned a picture of his former home with What started as a home, but became a mausoleum. I do not know his story regarding the transformation, but my sentiments toward my current address are very similiar.

My life revolved around the place in question for the last 5 years. I rarely ventured beyond the county line for social outtings on weekends or looked for activities elsewhere. Why? When I first moved there, I thought I found a home. I wanted to be involved, help the community, and convinced myself the social scene there was just what I needed.

Last August, after being selected for a study abroad program, I began spending more weekends out of town, in Greenville, Simpsonville and Clemson, and socializing with a wider network of people. I felt an instant connection to and acceptance by these new friends, two factors I hadn’t felt in years. (Of course, that was my fault! I had to CHANGE.)

When I returned home after traveling, things didn’t feel right. I was content, loved my job, and enjoyed life, but something was missing. Everyday, on the drive to work, my spirit rose; on the drive home, it crumbled. I blamed myself; I just needed an attitude adjustment. Instead of a mausoleum, I resided in a prison.

In September, the idea of buying a home and moving elsewhere entered my mind. I assumed it would take about a year to find, negotiate, inspect, blah, blah, blah, and move in to a new place and mentally prepared myself for another year of life in my town. The entire process was more like a week to find, 10 minutes to negotiate, and the rest fell in to place. My closing is Monday. I am so excited.

For a first-time buyer, I have no fears or uncertainty about my financial commitment or the decision to move to a new community. I’m not leaving my current place with any bad feelings, though. I have some wonderful friends there. But it was never home, and I only passed through.

Californication: Season 2

I’m really enjoying this. And I feel guilty because of my enjoyment. So far, season 2 is less, uhm, dirty than season 1. Some of the dialog is SO funny. I am only on Disk 1, so the nasty factor may go way up with the later episodes. I’ll keep you posted …

Reads of Late

Boots on the Ground by Dusk: My Tribute to Pat Tillman by Mary Tillman

I’ve previously mentioned my interest in Pat Tillman. I was so excited for Where Men Win Glory to finally be published, but, to be totally honest, a little disappointed with the book. (It is still worth reading, though.)

My interest in Pat Tillman stems from reading about his perspectives on life and the questioning that was a hallmark of his thinking. I’m drawn to individuals who question and feel a kinship with them. I questioned, too, although I certainly wasn’t taught to do that by my family. My questioning sometimes landed me in trouble with adults–they weren’t used to it from a small child. I couldn’t help wanting answers from them, especially when they were fucking things up.

Anyway, I am enjoying this book very much, although it is heartbreaking. I’ll post more about it when I finish reading.

So, Is It Better?

Main article from USA Today dot com
It was nice to read an encouraging report from Iraq. I was not a fan of the invasion, but have tried to see the good in the situation. Perhaps, the end will at least quantify the means.

What about Afghanistan?

“… finding a credible partner in Afghanistan is like looking for a virgin in a cathouse. They don’t exist.”

Well said, Mr. Hastings.

(For the post, please go here.)

onward

Boxes have taken over my living room. There is a temptation to pack everything now, but I won’t be moving for at least another two weeks and I don’t want to give the impression that I can’t get out of town fast enough. Plus, I still need coffee and plates in the interim.

I like to pack. It gives me an exact inventory of everything I own. The last time I moved I downsized quite a bit. Now, I have one bag of clothing, a pair of Rollerblades, and a small Crock-Pot for Goodwill. The rest is coming with me.

My “style” of moving is completely opposite of my brother’s. I organize, pack, and label everything ahead of time. He is more laid back–and waits until moving day. There are pros and cons with both methods. Whatever makes you happy, dude.

Bottle Shock

Great movie borrowed from the local library based on the true story of the California little winery that could. I assumed it was shot relatively inexpensively (pre-Star Trek Chris Pine), however a hefty portion of the budget was put towards photography and cinematography. The shots were a love letter to Napa Valley: sweeping aerials of sun-drenched grape vineyards and farmland and beautiful pictures of subjects framed by lush natural landscape.

If this movie doesn’t make you want to rush out and find the best bottle of Chardonay available, nothing will. If you’re into wine it’s a must. (I must say, Bottle Shock had more of a crowd-pleasing feel than Sideways, although I liked that one too.) By the way, if you’ve never been to the Wine country, you’ll want to after watcing Bottle Shock.

Oh, the People We Meet

A headline on the IJ’s website caught my eye this morning. Is that …? Yep. (I don’t want to go into any details other than saying someone I used to know did something rather unsavory.)

Today’s reflection: I will take a good book over bad company any day. Thank goodness that lesson was learned without any lasting consequences.

Some Favorites from this Year

In Theaters:
Julie and Julia
The Proposal
Star Trek
(500) Days of Summer

DVD:
Sunshine Cleaning (favorite of the year)
Away We Go
Summer of Sam
Changeling (still haunted by it)
Weeds: Season 4

Hulu:
Glee

CDs:
Dear Science, TV on the Radio (2008)
Middle Cyclone, Neko Case (2008)
(500) Days of Summer Sdtk. (2009)

Books:
Columbine, Dave Cullen (2009)
Where Men Win Glory, Jon Krakauer (2009)
Long Way Round, Ewan McGregor (200?)

(This list isn’t complete. Check back on December 31st.)

@myname

A friend once told me home-buying was easier to do with a partner. I have no comparison, but my experience of solo-home-obtaining hasn’t been especially difficult. I’ve watched the shows on HGTV (or is it TLC) with people buying their “dream homes” and all of the IS-ALL-GONNA-FALL-APART drama that makes reality tv kinda riveting in a voyeauristic way. What I realized is those individuals are buying homes they may or may not be able to afford and usually have very little cash for the down payment.

I expected some stressful moments, maybe finding a great place and losing it to another buyer or some last minute item the bank needed to process the mortgage that threw all of the dates off kilter. So far, things are going well.

A phrase I’ve heard quite a bit lately is Wow, does it feel like you’re signing away your life? No, it doesn’t. I’m signing up for my life. It’s Hello, how are you? So glad to see you. Having a laundry room AND carport are just extras.

So, the last few weeks have been busy, but they’ve been the good kind of busy. Two separate job-related classes in Greenville, work, teaching class, church from New Spring via the Web, and house hunting. The last item has been full of surprises. When I decided to begin the process, my expectations were that it would be 6 months to a year before I found anything. Instead, it has taken about two weeks. The idea of purchasing a home was not on my Master Plan for 2009. In fact, it was cataloged under To Do Someday.

I can’t recount the number of times I’ve been told So and so will happen when you least expect it. To me, that phrase translated to I don’t actually know what to say to you, but I’m trying my best to say something that MIGHT offer some comfort. There is more to do before I am a home owner, but it has become a status with a definite time period.

I haven’t watched many movies lately. I am reading John Lennon, the biography from last year. He is an individual that has perplexed me for years. Genius, freak, drug addict, poet, all of the above. I’m enjoying reading about his life. Been catching episodes of Glee on Hulu and waiting for Californication:Season 2 to arrive in the mail.

The Grudge Report: Part Deux

A sermon I listened to recently from the NewSpring Church (taped in Feb. 2008) covered communion and the role forgiveness plays in preparing for communion. The short–unless you seek forgiveness and are ready to forgive others, don’t come. No exceptions. And that made a lot of sense to me.

I am self-serving and hold grudges by nature. Based on my religious beliefs, I refuse to throw up my hands and say Screw it, my grudge holding isn’t my fault. I don’t like grudges or always placing my needs first. They only hurts me. I know that from experience.

Most of my grudges are the result of not having conversations with people that I should have, whether it was confronting them about a hurt or responding to something else with complete honesty. I don’t like confrontation–my family NEVER had confrontations. (Goes without saying we should have.)

What hurts is knowing there are relationships that could have grown or even flourished had I just spoken up. Sure, not all of the hurts were my fault, and at some point the other party should have said sorry, but I hold myself completely accountable for the things I should have done and failed to do. My lack of action sentenced me to a lengthy healing period and put the brakes on relationship growth.

I have probably committed the writing crime of redundancy here, but my blog posts are my rough drafts. More to come on this subject …

Some good friends are moving to the coast in a few weeks. I am happy they found such a great home, but will miss them. A lot, actually. They were the type of people you could sit down with and spend an entire evening talking and sharing experiences, no agenda, no bullshit. Just good company and conversation.

I have greatly cherished their friendship over the last few years and their absence will be noticed. I am so glad I’ve learned to appreciate people and not to take them for granted. (Of course, I learned the hard way.) There is no such thing as too much time with a good friend(s).

pace?

I went to the gym yesterday afternoon since it was too rainy to do much outside. I hadn’t been to work out in a while–when the weather is nice, I prefer being outdoors. The first thing I noticed when I started the treadmill was how much stronger I was compared to 6 months ago. Back then, I struggled with a pace of 3.4 mph. Yesterday, I easily maintained 4.0 for nearly 40 minutes. (Walking–I have never been able to get a running rhythm on the tread.)

It was so nice to have tangible signs that I am better. I am so grateful for it.

recent views

Adventureland: I expected to love this and didn’t. It wasn’t bad, but I hyped it too much in my own mind. Still, it was entertaining and didn’t drag.

Hunger: I don’t know why I put this in my queue. Maybe because I read a blurb about it Vogue or Vanity Fair? Hunger is the true story of Bobby Sands, a hunger striker protesting the treatment of IRA prisoners at the hands of the British. The film doesn’t go into the crime(s) or conviction that put Sands in jail, it only portrays the final months of his life. The brutality towards prisoners as well as the physical deterioration caused by starvation caught me by suprise. Hunger would likely appeal to viewers looking for a grim historical drama. It wasn’t uplifting viewing, but I’m not sorry I watched it.

Henry Poole is Here: I liked the characters, but wished the script had more punch to it. The story was moving and it had a great soundtrack, but this one didn’t do much for me. (I got it because I have a little crush on Luke Wilson.) Still, not sorry I watched it.

Yes, I remember EXACTLY where I was. I will never forget that day, or week. Those memories are burned into an area that can’t be erased. Aside from the collective national grief, I read a few personal stories of people who died in the planes or the towers. Those stories personalized the mourning for me. I can still remember the sorrow–a sharp hot pain in the heart and a longing for a change in circumstances.

Leaving my library job that day, I immediately turned on my car’s radio. Only one station played music. On the rest, somber voiced news reporters delivered the heartbreaking statistics. Maybe all of the people below the impact got out, maybe some from above were able to escape. If only the buildings hadn’t collapsed… What’s happening in Washington? Who did this??

I called my father after the second plane hit. He was working, too. A customer told him a minute before I called. A television was set up near my desk and my co-workers and I crowded around it in between catching updates on the Internet and assisting the few library patrons who visited that day. The silence in the building was chilling. Our voices were soft, timid, as if we expected more, even worse, bad news. No one took a lunch break. What now?

The next day, the Independent Mail’s headline read “War Comes to America.” On the Internet, a photo showed a woman holding up a sign that simply stated “Sad Day USA.” Finally, tears fell.

From Lacrimosa, Mozart’s Requiem:
Huic ergo parce, Deus,
pie Jesu Domine,
dona eis requiem.

I love South Carolina. My South Carolina isn’t the state of dismal statistics – education, teen pregnancy, illiteracy, domestic violence, unemployment, etc – or embarassing political leaders. Instead, it’s: Flowers year round. Mountains in one hour, beach in three (from the Upstate.) Sweet tea, shrimp boils, fried chicken, garden vegetables. Greenville. Charleston. Columbia. Football, golf. Lakes. Farms. Old stores. Spring festivals. Spoleto. Big universities, small colleges. Porch swings. Country roads. Mennonite crafts. Waterfalls. Rivers. Historic battlefields. Indigo. Hilton Head.

(that’s not all, but a good start)

Why MIA

12 years ago, the final piece of a perfect storm was created. My family fragmented. Growing up, I thought we were the best family ever, the drama, fights, and pettiness that happened to others never happened in our house. My family, my default setting for a social group, was perfect. Until the day it wasn’t.

Denial, realization, and acceptance followed the events. Those and a desperate search for a new default setting that lasted several years. I outsourced family, tried to make it work, lost myself, gave up, and finally emerged with scars and a thinner frame, but also a genuine knowledge of happiness and acceptance of what my family and other people could and could not be.

At the lowest point, I was convinced that I did not belong anywhere. My default didn’t seem to want me, nor did it’s outsource. (“Want” probably isn’t the best word, uhm, but I am presently at a loss for another description.) What do you do then? I could write about what I did, but I’m not going there. I will only say that it suprised me, and still does. I have to reread journal entries because some of things I have blocked from my memory. The bright spot was that my love for my outsourced family was real.

I don’t spend a lot of time looking backwards into the past, but the patterns and learned lessons always amaze me. Oh, and as for my default, I wouldn’t trade (or outsource) them for anything.

content 2.0 beta

Lying in bed last night, I read a few more pages of a book I started on being content. For the last few months, the contentedness I enjoyed early this year has grown. I’ve been given a new direction and focus, one that wouldn’t have been obvious to me a few years ago. In fact, I would have said No, that can’t be right. I continuously remind myself, though, that this is a blessing, not to take it for granted, and to cherish it.

One thing I love about this season is the focus that is given to blessings, especially in November and December. This year I am very thankful for my family, that the distance that seperated us for so long receeded and that we’re together. I am also thankful for the things I have learned over the last 6 years–no doubt they’ve contributed to being content. Above all, past mistakes don’t have to revisit me in sorrow or memory.

The Grudge Report

I’ve been thinking a lot about grudges and how I can’t seem to stop myself from holding them. Mine are not large or particulartly obvious or numerous, but the point is I know I’m doing it. A gesture, eye-roll, remark, something I do with the intention of not being as, uhm, cheerful or excited or kind as I should be.

(What has precipitated this reflection is my current reading selection Odd Girl Out and it’s focus on aggression and how women are taught to deal with it versus how they ACTUALLY deal with it.)

God doesn’t hold grudges. I shouldn’t either. That’s been my reasoning thus far. For me, a grudge is sitting in a rocking chair that doesn’t rock, it’s just there, unmoving, and sucks. More to come on this subject …

Sunshine Cleaning

I really, really enjoyed this film. It was unpretentious, sweet, but not syrupy, and had a terrific cast. Every character was perfect. I especially enjoyed Clifton Collins Jr. as Winston. Emily Blunt and Amy Adams were perfect as sisters and are two of the most talented actresses around today.

I added Rudo y Cursi, Californication: Season 2, and Adventureland to my queue today. Movie watching commences …

(I have also borrowed Hulk from a co-worker. I enjoyed The Incredible Hulk. I’m curious as to how this one will compare.)

Hello, There

Quick list of what I’ve been doing lately:

(500) Days of Summer - loved it. It could easily have been titled (500) Days of Jaime. The similarities between myself and the title character were unsettling for me. Going to see Inglorious Bastereds this weekend. Want to see District 9, Julie and Julia, and The Time Traveler’s Wife.

Odd Girl Out - VERY intriquing read. It’s pre-empted The White Tiger and will be my choice for book club whenever my turn rolls around. I purchased The Long Way Round. Love it and can’t wait to finish it after Girl.

The beach: Amazing time. So much so, I stayed an extra day. I am so good at vacationing.

Looking for some new music. Any recommendations are welcome.

Classes start this week. I am ready and looking forward to teaching again.

**Meaningful posting will resume shortly.

Pin the Tail on My Baby Daddy

According to US Weekly dot com, John Edwards is “fixing to” admit that he is indeed the baby daddy of his former(??) mistresses daughter.

Gracious, with all the people coming forward about their reproductive fly balls, out-of-wedlock babies are almost an accessory. What has happened to first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes baby … ? Is the US turning into Europe? (Europe looks over and shrugs.)

OMGoodness

The only point on which it convinced was that euthanasia is morally acceptable only as an antidote to tenure.

Lee Siegel, Obama’s Euthanasia Mistake

Yep, heard about that new healthcare proposal. WE GON’ DIE. If Obama don’t kill us, insurance will! Sheeeeeeee-iiiiiiiitt.

No, I’m not in that camp. However, the effect, and I mean down-the-road, from what MIGHT happen and what this legislation COULD pave the road TO happen is damn scary. And the president needs to face the public and address those concerns.

Best Comment of the Day

Maybe if they taught geography at Berkley instead of ideology this would not have happened. Response to an LA Times article about the 3 hikers being detained in Iran for illegal entry into the country.

I started Spies in Warsaw last night, but it just didn’t work for me. It was replaced with The White Tiger, which is working very nicely and will be my selection for book club, unless one of the other ladies jacks it before my turn.

Looking for some new things to read. I’ve been on an Iraq war kick lately, but I’ve exhausted most of the readily-available resources at the library. I just finished Lance: The Making of the World’s Greatest Champion, which I enjoyed for it’s balanced portrayal of a very public, yet hard-to-know individual.

I would like to find an engrossing novel next, since almost everything I’ve read recently has been non-fiction. Those are harder for me to come by. I almost always skip the New Fiction section at book stores and libraries.

I decided early this morning while having my first cup of coffee that tonight would be a Barnes and Noble night. I’m excited because it’s been awhile since my last one. Hopefully, some new books and I will find each other!

It must be difficult to be labeled “the lonely girl” and then, days later, have your ex-husband declare that he is (currently) with his soulmate. (I think you know the people of whom I am speaking.) Here’s how I, as a possible contender for the category of lonely girl, would look at the situations: days/evenings spent with a glass of wine, candles, and a good book or movie vs. a chaotic household full of people needing things constantly; not having someone or a group to tell your good news to vs. having an instant support team/fan club; being your own boss, CFO, shopper, chef, decorator, etc vs. having to clear (or at least discuss) some items (money, anyone?) with someone else; and on and on and on ….

What it really boils down to is this: Would you trade your life or some portion of it with someone else? I wouldn’t. Not one small aspect. Not with anyone. They have their lives. I have mine. And, for right now, it’s all mine.

Muy Bien

My book compliments of The Daily Beast was The White Tiger by Aravind Adiga. I couldn’t remember the exact book I would be receiving for the contest and was excited about this one because it’s something I will actually read. I am certain it will find it’s way into my bag for my upcoming R and R escape.

Sunday stuff. Now that I’ve mulled the use of the expression Get the Hell out in a sermon for a longer period, I am struck by the way the minister used it and the meaning he applied. It was different. And obviously made an impression. I’m spending some time reading this man’s blog, too, to get a better idea of what he is like.

Movie stuff. I rented Savage Grace from Blockbuster yesterday and will try to watch it tonight post-yoga. The Bella dvd arrived cracked, but it is currently in my queue in spot 1. The clerk told me Savage Grace was “crazy” but watchable, as in you must see how it ends. (It’s only 92 minutes or so, another selling point. There is nothing more disappointing that a 140+ minute movie that just SUCKS.)

Some Weekend Reflections

I don’t like it when preachers use shock-tactics from the pulpit. Sunday morning, I listened to a previously recorded sermon from one of the local large churches. In the course of the sermon, which I thought was going to be based on the Sermon on the Mount but was more focused on a lengthy history of said church, the minister used the phrase “get the hell out of here.” He explained why he said it and it made sense. Still, I didn’t appreciate it. I didn’t think it was appropriate. I won’t stop listening and may even make the drive there one Sunday.

I may post some more on the subject of church. I’m still mulling over Sunday’s experience.

15 Books in 15 Minutes

Here are my 15. Actually, it only took about 5 minutes to make this list of books that I’ve either read over and over again or were particularly meaningful.

To Kill a Mockingbird
The Zuchinni Warriors
White Oleander
The Beach
A Nightmare in History
The Power of One
Blubber
House of Sand and Fog
Bridget Jones’s Diary
Into Thin Air
It’s Not About the Bike
Schindler’s List
Farmer Boy
The Lords of Discipline
Are You There God? It’s me, Margaret