Monday, November 12, 2012

Blessed to Be American

Sometimes, it's good to take a moment to think about what it means to be an American. I am fortunate. I was born here, in a time where women's rights afford me the opportunity to go to school, work, and earn a livable wage. I can choose where and how to worship, and can speak my peace - I can speak in support or against my government, I can vote, and I can contact my representatives on issues that concern me. All of these are things I take for granted on a daily basis. Here, they're rights.

At my job, I was able to participate in a Veteran's Day event. At the event, the names of over 6,600 veterans were read. 6,600 men and women have died in Iraq and Afghanistan. Men and women from the local VFW post took turns reading the names - names of sons, daughters, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, husbands, wives, partners... I simply can't imagine the sacrifices they've made. And I can't imagine having a loved one half-way around the world in combat - the hope that there's never a knock at the door, the anticipation of R&R, wondering what will be different when he or she returns. My thoughts and prayers are with them all.

The gentleman who spoke after the National Roll Call discussed what we can do to better understand what our soldiers will be dealing with upon their return. It's one of those things where awareness is just one very small part of a much larger and far-reaching problem. The advice was so broad - being mindful of sensitivity to light, noise, and crowds to anticipating uncontrolled rage. Resources were provided from a few local agencies, and I am glad to know there's such support for our veterans. It will never be enough, but at least there's effort in trying to ensure that none of our veterans are homeless, and that veterans and their families have access to counseling and support networks.

As for me, what can I do? Honestly? I'm looking for feedback here. My granddad served in World War II, but that's the closest member in my family to serve - it didn't have a huge impact on my day-to-day life. So I do what I hope will help. A word of thanks, a smile, a handshake, a hug to a coworker who served.

And a little time to reflect on all of our fortunes, paid for by strangers, neighbors, friends, family members, coworkers.... Thank you. 



Sunday, November 11, 2012

I Blame Gidget

I used to watch Gidget during the summer when i was in elementary and middle school. She made me want to keep a diary, and I always loved how she wrote in her diary like she was writing to someone - a good friend. She always had her trusty sidekick, Larue, but still. She needed a place where her thoughts could be kept safe and sound, to chronicle her escapades with all those hunky surfer dudes. Aside from having feet that can't be still, I am guessing that feeling the need to write is likely the only thing Gidget and I have in common. I'm more of a Larue person myself.

So here we are, stuck in the inter-webs, hoping for a little voyeuristic moment writing here. Heaven knows my life lacks an abundance of excitement, but still. At the end of the day, this is about me having an outlet for thoughts, feelings and ideas, and hoping that maybe - just maybe - it'll connect with someone else, too.

I'm not the kind of person who LOVES to trouble others with my problems. For the most part, I'm a pretty self-sufficient chick. And I'm typically a pretty happy, go-lucky person, too. I have a fantastic job working with people I love, amazing friends that have been there for me for ages, and the love of a good man who is fun, hard-working, stable, and who positively makes every day SO much better just for being on the planet. And did I mention our menagerie of dogs? Yeah, I'm sure they'll make a few appearances over time.

So here's where my mind is, and why I'm creating this whole blog. I'm a Texas girl. I was born in Texas, raised in Texas, educated in Texas (and look! I can construct decent sentences!), and thought I'd forever be right here in my beloved state. Don't like Texas? Fuck you! We're good people! Promise....

Anyway, when I met that awesome man a few years back, he told me he was from parts outside of Texas, and that he pretty much felt that he'd stay in Texas from then on. As we all know, things change, opportunities come, and he's got a great opportunity. He's going to rock this thing with such success - I know it'll be SOOO good for him! And I know that he wants me to join him on this adventure once he has everything set up and running.

But in that Texas DNA runs a strongly independent spirit mixed with a half-twist of fear and stubbornness that has me SO incredibly afraid to go. I'm not whittling away in a job I hate in a place I don't like, around people who I can't stand (naturally there are a few, but it's minimal), so life's pretty sweet. I know what to expect nearly every day. I like the weather, love the open spaces... I just love things.

So therein lies the rub: How do you pick up and follow someone? I've never done it. Never jumped out of a perfectly good, self-sufficient plane to test the old parachute to see how it holds up. What I know is this: change can be good or bad, but in either case it brings stress. Stress in any form can change the dynamics with how people interact and communicate. He is going to be incredibly stressed during the first few months of this opportunity and I'm going to be awful lonesome and well, SAD. And I am SO afraid of failing at this relationship, especially if I quit my job and move out of my beloved Texas for him. And let's not downplay the amount of stress this is putting on him. I'm trying to put on the good face, trying not to cry that he'll be gone, but I assure you that tears have been rolling down my face for the last hour and intermittently when I feel like I can let a few tears fall.

An aside: crying sucks. There's no joy to it, though sometimes it does relieve a little stress - a one-time boo-hoo every few months and then it's all good. This isn't what I've got going on. It's that ugly, heave-y cry, - with the red face and the runny nose and the scrunched up cheeks... ugh. I'm not much of a pretty crier.

And I don't give in to the romantic Cinderella bullcrap where everything will be "happy ever after". But I know that we make the best of most situations. We've managed a few tough roads together, and he's a rock. So steady, so solid. I guess it's like when we first started dating and I kept waiting for him to let me down - but he didn't. And he still doesn't. But 6 months ago we were going to be living right here doing what we've done for 4 years, and now this.

And at the end of the day, I worry about doing something for the money. I don't want to sacrifice happiness for the promise of money. But when the one thing that brings you the most joy leaves, then it changes the scene a little, makes you look around at what's really permanent and what's not. I know my job isn't going to be awesome forever. My boss's boss, an amazing woman and inspirational leader, is going go wise up and retire sooner or later. As soon as she's gone, nothing will be the same at work. The people will still be there, but it'll be far different from what it is now. It'll be easier to leave then, knowing that the thing that brings me joy during the bulk of my waking hours is changing (presumably for the worse). I'll maintain my friendships no matter where I am. And when I think of that, leaving seems so much easier...

The only real constant is change, they say. I'm cool with that. I just don't want to leave that perfectly good plane - someone's going to have to push me to test the chute. Here's hoping the rush is as awesome as they say.