Random Thoughts About.....Not Much

So I'm sitting here in my office, taking a short lunch break before diving into the rest of my day chock full of accounting for 3 businesses, employee evaluations, meetings with the doctors, policy reviews and trying to soothe the ruffled feathers of patients who are positive that:

a.) the office staff is "out to get them" because they had to hold for longer than 2 minutes.

b.) we are IGNORING their desperate need for medication because the pharmacy has faxed their RX request 4 times, even though the fax clearly states "This is the first request".

c.) we are evil for following HIPAA guidelines that require patient authorization before we can talk to family members, even the mommies.

All in a day's work. Sigh. Next stop ESL, even though it is going to be FREEZING tonight and I don't think the students will come. I'd rather snuggle in my soft throw, watch "24", my latest addiction (I'm in the middle of season 1) and sip hot cocoa. That would make me feel better because between allergies and my monthly (or should I say semi-monthly?) visitor I feel like crap looks - pretty gnarly.

To top it off, this morning when I dragged myself out of bed I noted that yesterday's small pimple is now GINORMOUS. I'm talking the size of Mount Kilimanjaro....ON....MY....FACE! Makeup doesn't do it justice. Then I plucked at least 15 gray hairs and wondered again if I should start dying it. At least I don't have to pluck my eyebrows as often anymore, they're going gray and aren't as noticeable, although I DID pluck a few stray chin hairs which were as black as my hair used to be.....

Then there was the matter of getting dressed. Ugh. How can I say this delicately??? Oh I can't so I'll just say it. My steeples have long since pointed in the wrong direction and require a herculean effort to hoist them up to acceptable levels AND keep them there throughout the day so that it looks like I only have 2 stomachs instead of 4. I have no desire to resemble my grandmother just yet, God rest her soul. So the hoisting continues, day in and day out, as does the poking from the underwires, which are clearly a form of torture.

I'm also considering modified Anorexia. Perhaps that is the only diet that will work for me. Oh sure, I've kept 15 pounds off, but I need to lose 50 more so 15 seems like small potatoes, which I'm not allowed to eat by the way. I'm allowed to eat skinless chicken, turkey and fish, non-starchy veggies, eggs, very little cheese, and some fruit. Like I said, modified Anorexia. I also gave up soda, even diet soda, although I do allow myself to drink tea but usually it's unsweet, which is an acquired taste that I haven't quite adjusted to.

Oh, and my apartment is a mess. Truly. I haven't vacuumed since before Christmas. Nor have I dusted. My gifts are still littering my dining table and the ornaments I started making a few days AFTER Christmas are still sitting on my kitchen counter, half finished. And yes, I know that it is strange to start making ornaments AFTER the holiday, but I was bored one day and felt the need to be creative. Hence the ornaments on my counter.

I'm also addicted to scouring the internet for reviews about digital cameras and iPods. I really would like both but I'm leaning toward getting the iPod first because I already have a decent camera, even if it's not digital. I looked at cameras on Saturday at Best Buy and Circuit City but couldn't decide. FYI - Circuit City still has higher prices than Best Buy or Amazon even though they are going out of business. Curious.

Just after I stressed about buying a digital T.V. converter they have issued an extension. I guess that gives me a reprieve from trying to figure out how to hook it up! My brother has agreed to walk me through the process by phone if I get stuck, which is highly likely.

And I just read that Paul McCartney has a new girlfriend, and I REALLY don't care. Seriously, I'm so bored with celebrity gossip, or gossip in general. Yawn. I'd rather sleep.

BTW, today I feel like being real, not perfect so I didn't really proofread this post. Please ignore typos and spelling errors. Or point them out if you feel inclined. I'll hate you for it later. At least I have a cool new CD to keep me company in my car. And one of the songs seriously rocks. I almost feel like a 30-year-old again! ;-)

Otherwise life is.....good. At least I keep telling myself that. I'm sure it will be better when my hormones return to normal and the mountain on my face turns back in to a molehill. :-0

Deconstructing Robin

Ever been struck by a wrecking ball??? Okay, not literally but figuratively? Well, just for the record, it hurts, I know from personal experience! The destruction of everything I have been into all I was meant to be is a painful process. I suppose the rejection of being the person your circumstances would have you believe you are, to becoming the person God intended you to be when he first breathed life into your soul happens to every seeker eventually. But it's not fun. Ever.

Admittedly I'm a bit befuddled. How do I really embrace becoming more (according to God's design) while becoming less (according to my own design)? I'm wary of the doctrine that tells me to just "be myself". Because the reality is that if left to my own devices I am self-absorbed, arrogant, overly independent and withdrawn. My natural inclination is to serve myself, not God or anyone else. And sadly, in my efforts to "serve and protect" (myself) I hurt others by conveniently forgetting the greatest commandments spoken of by Jesus. Something about loving him with all my heart, mind and soul and loving others as much as I love myself. Ouch. I have definitely failed at those two things!

Since becoming MORE of a narcissistic idiot is not really on the agenda, I've GOT to figure it out pretty quickly. If only I didn't have an overabundance of rough edges, which I have intentionally overlooked for most of my life. If only I were already there. If only. But instead I find myself in the middle of a long (I hope) marathon and feeling a bit overwhelmed at how much work God still has to do in me. How much more wrecking needs to be done before I can begin sifting through the rubble? When can I clean up the mess?

Well I don't know and God is not really forthcoming with his timetable. At least he's patient with me. And thankfully I have patient friends who remind me that they love me even when I can't understand why. So the wrecking will continue. My only word of caution if you're in the vicinity is to look out for falling debris! Good luck, you're gonna need it. ;-)

Nervous In The Light Of Dawn

This is my favorite song of late. Other than the hauntingly beautiful music and angelic voice of Leigh Nash, it perfectly captures my mood. It's on repeat in my CD player. Amazing.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xDtmKBCOaso (ignore the cheesy video, just listen to the song.)

"Nervous In The Light Of Dawn"

Dreamed I was in a desert, without any luck
Storm gray clouds, hovering above
Silence all around me, I was wandering alone
And I realized, there is nothing, anyone can really own

And I wished for guidance, and I wished for peace
I could see the lightning, somewhere in the east
And I wished for affection, and I wished for calm
As I lay there
Nervous in the light of dawn
As I lay there
Nervous in the light of dawn

It's hard to change, and it's hard to move
It takes years for rough, to be made smooth
You can use up all of your precious energy
To be tossed like a shell, from the hungry sea

And I wished for guidance, and I wished for peace
I could see the lightning, somewhere in the east
And I wished for affection, and I wished for calm
As I lay there
Nervous in the light of dawn
As I lay there
Nervous in the light of dawn

Hold me, in your arms, until I fall asleep
I'm so tired....
Hold me...

And I wished for guidance, and I wished for peace
I could see the lightning, somewhere in the east
And I wished for affection, and I wished for calm
As I lay there
Nervous in the light of dawn
As I lay there
Nervous in the light of dawn

Most Embarrassing Moment #2

Ah, the teenage years, full of angst and awkwardness and more excruciatingly embarrassing moments than any one human should have to endure. Things that seem so insignificant to others shape us for a lifetime and leave jagged scars that change how we relate to the world.......oh I kid, oh not really. Okay, perhaps I'm being slightly melodramatic (are you surprised???) but seriously, there are some things that make me cringe even 20+ years later. Especially where horrifically ugly, green, dump trucks are concerned!

You see, my dad had (has?) a knack for picking really ugly vehicles. He could see the "beauty" in them that NO ONE else could see.... Take for instance the aforementioned monstrosity. It was truly hideous. Oh how I wish I could find a photo of it for posterity (the image below is the best I could find on the web), but surely the camera would have broken had we attempted to capture it on film so it lives on only in my family's memory. Of course in my mind it has morphed into THE UGLIEST VEHICLE EVER DRIVEN BY A HUMAN BEING, and yes I know I'm "yelling" in cyberland, I'm still severely traumatized!

Aside from its color this thing had a decaying, wooden bed. And remember those really long stick shifts? Yep, it had one that was at least the length of a yard stick. It also had a VERY short driver (my petite mother) who could barely reach the clutch, which meant the gears would grind - loudly - when she was shifting. Oh and it had a lovely (cough, cough) vinyl (?) bench seat where my brother and I would sit side by side, he in the middle by the freakishly long stick shift, me by the door hoping desperately that I would not slide into him when we turned a corner. And worse still the drivers' side door would pop open at the most inopportune times. It had a mind of its own, staying stubbornly shut when you wanted to open it only to swing open in the middle of a drive down the street when you wanted it closed.....

One day my mom decided that it was high time my brother's cat was "fixed" since we had way too many and did not need anymore. So off we drove, my mom grinding the gears as my brother and I dodged one VERY angry cat who was intermittently sliding around on the vinyl seats, clawing at the door, hissing and hysterically looking for an escape hatch. As if on cue the possessed door unlatched itself and swung open, just as we pulled up to the stoplight......on the main drag......in Conroe, TX.....with the cat hanging onto the door for dear life! My mom was laughing and my brother was trying to coax his cat down from the door and onto his lap. But I on the other hand, HIT THE FLOOR completely mortified that someone might see me, thus ruining my stellar reputation (ha!) but hey I was 15! Things like that matter when you're a kid, and when you're a shy, angst-ridden teenager it's hard to find the humor in that kind of situation. It's funny now, sort of, but you probably won't catch me riding around in a green dump truck unless my life depends on it. I'd rather walk, take the bus, bike or pay for a taxi, heck I'd even consider thumbing it!

And that is why I now suffer from "Dump Truck PTSD". Thanks mom and dad.

It's Not (All) About Me

It's not all about me - um, yeah I keep being reminded of that annoying little fact over and over again. Apparently I have a very short memory when it comes to remembering how to live selflessly in this big, bad world. Of course, being single AND childless lends itself to a higher level of narcissism because there are fewer people making demands of my time and energy; if I'm not careful I become so focused on MY interests and MY needs that I fail to even try and meet the needs of those around me.

In really taking stock of my life I know that even if I never get to be the kind of "life-giver" I've always wanted to be, read: WIFE & MOMMY; I should still give life in other ways, and I NEED to, otherwise my existence feels meaningless. Most of the ways I try to give life are subtle, like staying connected to family.....being present for and spending time with my nieces and nephews.....nurturing friendships by striving to be vulnerable, loyal and gracious. Those things are important and take a great deal of time and emotional energy (especially the vulnerable and gracious parts, I often fail miserably in those departments!) Yet, I long to do more, and the reality is that I CAN do more without sacrificing the time and space I need to recharge and stay connected to Christ so I can truly live my faith.

So, I've begun volunteering again thanks to my friend Lizzo. Tuesday nights are now devoted to assisting her teach English as a Second Language (ESL) to refugees from Somalia. It's a humbling experience and one that makes my heart beat a little faster and adds a spring to my step. We've been on a break for the holidays and I've really missed those ladies. Seeing them arrive in their traditional, colorful outfits; babies slung across their backs. Learning the ABC's of our language while simultaneously adapting to a culture that is vastly different from their own. And the men, so proud of their achievements, making each lesson a competition, smiling like little boys when they say the right word. Oh, and the kids, so curious and wide-eyed and snuggly, with huge, welcoming smiles.....I could spend every second just adoring them.

As I watch them, these amazingly beautiful people from a tribe forced into slave labor during their country's ongoing civil war, I wonder. How did they survive to find joy and happiness again? Do they struggle against the sting of bitterness at all they have lost? How do they manage to live here, in the land of excess and keep their priorities focused on their families? Do they awaken to nightmares as memories of the past invade their sleep? Do they struggle with fear and anger? Or do they just rest in loving each other because they have suffered much and know that their families and communities are what matter most? It's funny, because even though I am one of their "teachers" (I use that term VERY loosely!) I can see that in answering my questions they will teach me more than I will ever teach them. Life really is ironic.