Loss and Squished Lemons

A coworker that I really like announced that she was leaving for another job today. The news was unwelcome. Do not mistake me, I am very happy for her but it just punctuated feelings of loss I continue to experience. My sister who is now married has moved away, one of my best friends is leaving for another state and although they say the only constant part of life is change, I hate it. Two different people tried to comfort me today by reminding me that I was about to leave for my own adventure but it was little consolation. Things shift. People grow. There is moving on for education, work, relationships and life but I somehow feel like that time lapse subject who stays stationary while the crowd shifts around her: still and silent, waiting for something as the world moves.

My sister teased me about not including her parties in my blog a few weeks ago. Although the gatherings were charming with good food, lovely friends and warm laughter all in attendance, I could not find the words to write about them. They symbolize the kind of bittersweet ends and beginnings that denial alone can tame.

So here I am again, with adaptation on the horizon, missing my close friends those both gone and those about to leave for new experiences. In this type of showdown, when pusillanimity often wins out over grit, it is time to choose courage over cowardice and love over fear. Things will work out. Thanks to advances in communication, friends are never that far. For now, the chin stays pointed toward the clouds and that pile of lemons gets squished and mixed with water and sugar.

this is 4 u U no who U R whaBAM

dear repeat offender pretend it is 2 am and the hood is silent in the berg called Awesometown and someone wrote a blog using no elevated vocabulary and avoided punctuation you would like it better right

this is a good blog number one USA OK go team ShaBAM

Keep 'em Guessing

I arrived home to a white catalog envelope with a clear window that makes that crinkley sound if you so much as look at it the wrong way. I didn't have to guess what was inside; in capital letters it shouted "WELCOME TO USC."

Such an envelope usually makes people jump all over their furniture and scream with delight, for me, it is the official symbol of change.

Change makes me nervous. I said it. Okay? I have a lot to do in the next few months and panic is settling over me like a twitch from two nights without sleep. There has to be a way that I can get my stuff together in time to go to California in the fall but right now all I can see is my life puzzle missing twenty-five percent of the pieces.

That said, I got an application for a fat scholarship from Lionsgate and I remember that this school is my portal to legitimacy. So I need to just calm down and map out the next few months of sleepless nights and ridiculous days.

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On an unrelated note, one of my coworkers made a joke about having a hand transplant of a murderer and for some reason that triggered a feeling that I had seen it in a movie or read it in a book before. Of course I tried to Google it, "hands of a murderer transplant strangle," because that is what one types in, of course, when one is trying to find an obscure allusion to a great work of fiction or biography/documentary(?!?!?).

So I should have guessed it but that idea is everywhere. Some dude even wrote an article about the transplanted limb as a trope. It apparently goes back at least as far as the Brothers Grimm but probably farther. I think the reason it seemed fresh was that the Live Episode of 30 Rock did it with John Hamm. Although this diversion was informative, when an older co-worker and I were looking for resource images I opened the window with that search. "Oh, that's a weird thing to look up, huh?" was my response to the awkwardness and I just moved on to the next search.

I often feel like I have to explain myself. That confuses folks because I occasionally engage in weirdness. Well, it might be more accurate to say "regularly." My motto? Keep 'em guessing.

A List of Things that Happened Today in No Particular Order

Acted as a hand model for a project at work.

Was directed to the Police Beat section of the campus paper and the "How Many Five Year Olds Could you Take?" questionnaire. I have learned two important facts: first, co-eds on campus call the police for the most inane reasons (I had no idea) and two, the answer is 21.

Went on a hunt for earthworms today (they are more difficult to find than one might imagine) and when I found them proceeded to bring them in to work and put them in the fridge as if they were my lunch.

Prepped for interviews tomorrow as I am hiring two new employees. It is weird being the boss.

Was greeted by Jimmer Fredette this afternoon. My co-worker and I were talking about him and he walked through the door, smiled and said, “Hello.” My interest in sports is slim but that man is handsome with a capital “H” and consequently, I wouldn’t kick him out of bed.

Planted an Asian pear tree and Concord grape vine in the back yard with my niece. It makes me feel whole to dig in the dirt with one of my favorite people.

Texted my sister who now lives in Idaho. Gardening makes me think of her. Smiled and thought happy thoughts.

Crawled into bed completely exhausted after chasing a five year old for hours (it turns out 1 is enough to drain me) and chopping out another stump with an axe. I might be sore for a few days and my respect for logging laborers has greatly increased.

Marriage, Career, Graveyard, Sweats- A Nautral Progression

Nuptials transpired this week. One groom, a friend of many years; we went out from time to time but serious, it was not. Timing, attraction, temperaments never lined up. He found a fantastic woman. They are good together. Stamp of approval. The other groom: a whisper thin dream of a possibility. I cannot help but wish them well and let the deserved happiness abound.

The dark questions, however, lurk in the eaves above the scenes of tranquility and bliss. Why not us? What is the difference between, “It’s a ‘go’ for eternity” and a “Thanks for playing, better luck next time”? The answer seems obvious. The fates have proclaimed it was never meant to be.

Doors seem to be gently closing all around but it isn’t terrifying, as I thought it would be.

Two close friends asked me on separate occasions, just today, if I were planning on just staying in L.A. and working in “the business” if I never got married and had children. Alarms went off in my head. I had never considered this probability. The assumption that I would have a spouse and progeny always began the equation, but examining my life pragmatically, without the hope of divine intervention, would easily point a rational person to the conclusion that I will be married to my work and that my offspring will be my art.

I am acquainted with a number of very strong, beautiful, talented women who are in the same position. Some talk of settling and others have resigned themselves to a steady, single life. I am still leaning against the fence looking on at a field of headstones. It is still unclear in which graveyard I will begin to dig the repository for my lost hope. Maybe it is just a symptom of my procrastination but I haven’t pulled out my sweats and tossed all of my makeup just yet. So I lift my spade in the air and yell, “Next year in L.A.!” I think that is a better place to die than Provo, UT; at least there is more eye candy to feast upon when I give in to a more comfortable waistband.