I am utterly convinced the room I work in is a
Vomit-Producing-Machine.
Germ-Invested-Work-Environment.
Because-Everyone-Is-Getting-Sick.
It's amazing how you can use all these anti-bacterial things and bleach solutions and sanitizer, and the next day another person who either works there, or is dropped off there, is vomiting.
HOW DOES THIS HAPPEN?
I know the spreading of the flu virus is expected. I mean, I'm in a room where fingers tend to wander toward the nose and mouth. Yet, there is a dim, hopeful part of me thinking that maybe, at least one of us will escape. ( I haven't).
In any case. That's been my feeling. Like you could show me in a special camerea that would reveal all the bacteria I'm carrying around and my whole body would light up like a Christmas tree! OK
So maybe I'm paranoid. I wash my hands constantly. I shower. You know. I'm clean. But as another kid goes down with it, and I myself am exposed AGAIN to it, it's hard to believe there aren't at least some microscopic germy thingys on me.
Long Sigh. OK. That's it.
DON'T TOUCH ANYONE!
You may get sick! ha. Good luck this cold and flu season!
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Compilation
This week I held my friend's week-old baby girl.
She was very very small!
And then watched a sad movie about grief and death and suicide.
Which made me cry quite a bit.
Sometimes when I get like that, all teary, I feel I've gone back to that college sophomore. That way awkward girl who didn't really want to talk about anything she was going through but felt the gloom and burden of grief and loss daily. (OK, so I'm still pretty awkward). But I don't usually feel doom and gloom.
I suppose more than anything it's simply frustrating. How can a young woman possibly explain that a mother's death still touches the depths of her heart four years later? And how can I possibly explain that it will always touch the depths of my heart? Sometimes I have to remember there is no one to explain anything too.
In any case. These happen to be just random thoughts today. No passionate political happenings are on my mind and no injustices have stirred my attention. Perhaps it's more of a reflection.
As my hopes grow out of tender time and words and lengthy happenings. I am very aware some days that I have chosen my own rough road. A road of twists and turns that I am partially to blame for. It seems reflection is called for before continuing and taking steps. Perhaps there comes a moment in life when one realizes that certain aspects of who you are will always hold stock in how you handle situations, events, and other people. And perhaps this process frees you to become the best parts of you and to try to overcome the worst. Perhaps it takes diving deep into the worst parts of yourself to see a way to overcome your own self.
Yet who knows. For all these words, perhaps they remain unneeded. And ourselves are only left to choose to love or to run. All pieces of ourselves aside. And maybe those pieces are what will fall in place when we finally make that choice.
That's what I'm hoping. Like a puzzle, for all the pieces of myself to be at rest and to fall into place as more and more of my heart decides the shape and frame of the puzzle. The beauty is, that despite our mistakes and consistent errors, we still get the opportunity to shape our lives, our puzzles. Into something we never dared to hope for. Perhaps that's what's important.
Hope.
She was very very small!
And then watched a sad movie about grief and death and suicide.
Which made me cry quite a bit.
Sometimes when I get like that, all teary, I feel I've gone back to that college sophomore. That way awkward girl who didn't really want to talk about anything she was going through but felt the gloom and burden of grief and loss daily. (OK, so I'm still pretty awkward). But I don't usually feel doom and gloom.
I suppose more than anything it's simply frustrating. How can a young woman possibly explain that a mother's death still touches the depths of her heart four years later? And how can I possibly explain that it will always touch the depths of my heart? Sometimes I have to remember there is no one to explain anything too.
In any case. These happen to be just random thoughts today. No passionate political happenings are on my mind and no injustices have stirred my attention. Perhaps it's more of a reflection.
As my hopes grow out of tender time and words and lengthy happenings. I am very aware some days that I have chosen my own rough road. A road of twists and turns that I am partially to blame for. It seems reflection is called for before continuing and taking steps. Perhaps there comes a moment in life when one realizes that certain aspects of who you are will always hold stock in how you handle situations, events, and other people. And perhaps this process frees you to become the best parts of you and to try to overcome the worst. Perhaps it takes diving deep into the worst parts of yourself to see a way to overcome your own self.
Yet who knows. For all these words, perhaps they remain unneeded. And ourselves are only left to choose to love or to run. All pieces of ourselves aside. And maybe those pieces are what will fall in place when we finally make that choice.
That's what I'm hoping. Like a puzzle, for all the pieces of myself to be at rest and to fall into place as more and more of my heart decides the shape and frame of the puzzle. The beauty is, that despite our mistakes and consistent errors, we still get the opportunity to shape our lives, our puzzles. Into something we never dared to hope for. Perhaps that's what's important.
Hope.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Public Option
Do you know what these buzzwords refer to?
If you don't, let me inform you...
This phrase refers to the consideration of a public option in the health care bill. What does that even mean?
I myself have been digging around to find some answers to this question as I don't completely understand it myself.
Generally the words "public option" have been used by political sides who are both for health care reform. One group, mostly democrats, want to make a "taxpayer-based medical insurance plan" an option for everyone (Greenman). In essence, this plan would compete with private insurance companies for business. Check out this article:
(http://www.nydailynews.com/opinions/2009/06/19/2009-06-19_whos_afraid_of_a_public_option_health_care_debate_is_stuck_on_a_strawman.html)
Pitting government health care insurance against private insurance companies? What do you think?
According to my own understanding, private insurance has only gotten MORE expensive and tends to continually cover less and less. Perhaps they could use a little competition from the government?
Here's another entertaining reference to the public option:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GMuZWSvlIMY
I suppose I wouldn't make so much to-do about these things if I didn't know how widespread their effect can be. So I'm choosing to fight in small ways and hope that others are inspired to do the same.
If you don't, let me inform you...
This phrase refers to the consideration of a public option in the health care bill. What does that even mean?
I myself have been digging around to find some answers to this question as I don't completely understand it myself.
Generally the words "public option" have been used by political sides who are both for health care reform. One group, mostly democrats, want to make a "taxpayer-based medical insurance plan" an option for everyone (Greenman). In essence, this plan would compete with private insurance companies for business. Check out this article:
(http://www.nydailynews.com/opinions/2009/06/19/2009-06-19_whos_afraid_of_a_public_option_health_care_debate_is_stuck_on_a_strawman.html)
Pitting government health care insurance against private insurance companies? What do you think?
According to my own understanding, private insurance has only gotten MORE expensive and tends to continually cover less and less. Perhaps they could use a little competition from the government?
Here's another entertaining reference to the public option:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GMuZWSvlIMY
I suppose I wouldn't make so much to-do about these things if I didn't know how widespread their effect can be. So I'm choosing to fight in small ways and hope that others are inspired to do the same.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
NewsWorthy
I recently watched the new documentary by a certain Mr. Moore entitled "Capitalism".
There were many interesting facts and points in this movie, however, what I mainly gained from it was that for a while I have not had any clear ideas about what is really going on in our government and country.
For example, did you know that recently some "rogue" democrats attempted to commit voter fraud by falsely filling out absentee ballots for residents who never actually filled out any such ballot? (Fox News)
Or that President Obama attempted to essentially boycott Fox news from interviews with key people because of their viewpoints on certain issues? Lucky for Fox all the other news networks stood up for Fox essentially because they all felt that no matter Fox's viewpoints, the President had still crossed a line. (http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2009/10/23/eveningnews/main5415921.shtml?tag=stack)
Another plant is closing down in Iowa, in Webster City. Over 800 jobs are going to Mexico where workers are paid $2.50 an hour. Because of the unions, workers in Webster City were paid over $16.00 an hour. (http://www.desmoinesregister.com/article/20091024/NEWS/91024005/1001/)
Perhaps Mexicans would be better off going back to Mexico. At least they would have a job, only if it does only pay $2.50 an hour.
And you know the irony in all this, the workers in Webster City weren't even outraged or surprised, they knew it was coming. Although the news is disappointing, no one even thinks to bat an eye.
I recently watched another documentary on HBO about the clothing and fashion industry and with shows like "America's Next Top Model" and "Project Runway" one would gather the impression that the glimmer of fashion is lucrative and well off. Not so much. The documentary "Schmatta: Rags to Riches to Rags" documents the growth of the garment production in New York and the eventual failure of the factories as everything was outsourced. Now, about %5 of all clothes bought in the US are made in the United States. No big deal, though, right? ( http://www.hbo.com/docs/programs/schmatta/synopsis.html )
Does anyone ever stop to think about the fact that America is setting itself up for failure? We have imposed many sanctions in the past on other countries whose policies or actions we didn't agree with. We had the power to do so because of our production. But what would happen if suddenly these countries producing all of our goods suddenly decided to impose sanctions on us? Who would remember how to make cars, clothes, toys, machinary?
In Miami many condos and homes are sitting empty as a result of foreclosers. You would think someone would be around to buy up the properties. Not so much. Instead these homes sit empty and people are starting to take back what the banks have taken from them. By squatting, by protesting, by remaining in their own homes despite the foreclosures and evictions. And how are local authorities reacting to people who enter and live in borded up homes? They aren't. ( http://www.democraticunderground.com/discuss/duboard.php?az=view_all&address=385x264995 )
There is a rally in Chicago I wish I could go to on Tuesday. Although I cannot attend, I will be following the events closely. Check out what's going on at http://www.showdowninchicago.org/
Whatever your viewpoints, it's important to at least try and sort through what's going on and take a stand for something. Because we, the American people, are the ones who are losing out. We are losing our jobs, our homes, and our sense of independence. Your job may be next. As may your home.
Take a stand.
For something anyways.
There were many interesting facts and points in this movie, however, what I mainly gained from it was that for a while I have not had any clear ideas about what is really going on in our government and country.
For example, did you know that recently some "rogue" democrats attempted to commit voter fraud by falsely filling out absentee ballots for residents who never actually filled out any such ballot? (Fox News)
Or that President Obama attempted to essentially boycott Fox news from interviews with key people because of their viewpoints on certain issues? Lucky for Fox all the other news networks stood up for Fox essentially because they all felt that no matter Fox's viewpoints, the President had still crossed a line. (http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2009/10/23/eveningnews/main5415921.shtml?tag=stack)
Another plant is closing down in Iowa, in Webster City. Over 800 jobs are going to Mexico where workers are paid $2.50 an hour. Because of the unions, workers in Webster City were paid over $16.00 an hour. (http://www.desmoinesregister.com/article/20091024/NEWS/91024005/1001/)
Perhaps Mexicans would be better off going back to Mexico. At least they would have a job, only if it does only pay $2.50 an hour.
And you know the irony in all this, the workers in Webster City weren't even outraged or surprised, they knew it was coming. Although the news is disappointing, no one even thinks to bat an eye.
I recently watched another documentary on HBO about the clothing and fashion industry and with shows like "America's Next Top Model" and "Project Runway" one would gather the impression that the glimmer of fashion is lucrative and well off. Not so much. The documentary "Schmatta: Rags to Riches to Rags" documents the growth of the garment production in New York and the eventual failure of the factories as everything was outsourced. Now, about %5 of all clothes bought in the US are made in the United States. No big deal, though, right? ( http://www.hbo.com/docs/programs/schmatta/synopsis.html )
Does anyone ever stop to think about the fact that America is setting itself up for failure? We have imposed many sanctions in the past on other countries whose policies or actions we didn't agree with. We had the power to do so because of our production. But what would happen if suddenly these countries producing all of our goods suddenly decided to impose sanctions on us? Who would remember how to make cars, clothes, toys, machinary?
In Miami many condos and homes are sitting empty as a result of foreclosers. You would think someone would be around to buy up the properties. Not so much. Instead these homes sit empty and people are starting to take back what the banks have taken from them. By squatting, by protesting, by remaining in their own homes despite the foreclosures and evictions. And how are local authorities reacting to people who enter and live in borded up homes? They aren't. ( http://www.democraticunderground.com/discuss/duboard.php?az=view_all&address=385x264995 )
There is a rally in Chicago I wish I could go to on Tuesday. Although I cannot attend, I will be following the events closely. Check out what's going on at http://www.showdowninchicago.org/
Whatever your viewpoints, it's important to at least try and sort through what's going on and take a stand for something. Because we, the American people, are the ones who are losing out. We are losing our jobs, our homes, and our sense of independence. Your job may be next. As may your home.
Take a stand.
For something anyways.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Twinkle Twinkle Little Star
Babies.
As of this month I will have gone to three baby showers. Awe. One for my good friend. One for a coworker and one for a cousin. I went to target and got little booties and other gift registered baby things.
The irony of this all is that at my job early in the mornings I work with infants every day. And it turns out they are not so scary as I once thought. Granted, my current expertise are two-three year olds, but I do love the babies too. I have never thought so much about pregnancy, babies, and motherhood!
Although I know I'm def. NOT READY for the HUGE responsibility that comes with birthing and raising a child, it's def. something I'm able to picture more easily. Minus the birthing. Of course.
I am happy and excited for these new moms and I'm so very excited to babysit for my friend Sarah when her little one happens along. To hold brand new life in my hands reminds me not only of where I come from, but also of how fast it all goes. Even my two and threes grow bigger and change every single day.
Even I am getting older too.
Someday I'll have white hair and be all wrinkly and unable to do much for myself. We all return to where we started. My hope is that I will look back on my youth with humor and kindness toward myself and be able to see that somehow my mistakes were made into miracles. And that in turn, I can tell my grandchildren about the young me and all things past. And they will shake their heads and go "whatever grandma".
As of this month I will have gone to three baby showers. Awe. One for my good friend. One for a coworker and one for a cousin. I went to target and got little booties and other gift registered baby things.
The irony of this all is that at my job early in the mornings I work with infants every day. And it turns out they are not so scary as I once thought. Granted, my current expertise are two-three year olds, but I do love the babies too. I have never thought so much about pregnancy, babies, and motherhood!
Although I know I'm def. NOT READY for the HUGE responsibility that comes with birthing and raising a child, it's def. something I'm able to picture more easily. Minus the birthing. Of course.
I am happy and excited for these new moms and I'm so very excited to babysit for my friend Sarah when her little one happens along. To hold brand new life in my hands reminds me not only of where I come from, but also of how fast it all goes. Even my two and threes grow bigger and change every single day.
Even I am getting older too.
Someday I'll have white hair and be all wrinkly and unable to do much for myself. We all return to where we started. My hope is that I will look back on my youth with humor and kindness toward myself and be able to see that somehow my mistakes were made into miracles. And that in turn, I can tell my grandchildren about the young me and all things past. And they will shake their heads and go "whatever grandma".
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Circles
Sometimes my thoughts chase in circles and I wonder
And wonder if everything is actually going to work out.
Because some part of me still doesn't know.
I think a lot about things.
About how things change
And how some things don't.
About old friends and how
They have changed
And haven't.
I don't know if the
Changes will mean good
Or bad things for any of them.
Yet it seems we've all lost our idealism somewhere
Between the here and there.
Youth passes us by in a flurry and
Even I don't feel young anymore.
Though some would call me so.
I look on with weariness at the paths
I've chosen and haven't chosen.
It is a hard thing sometimes
To try to look back and
Forward at the
Same time.
There's this part in the Bible
Where the main theme is
Everything is meaningless.
I feel overwhelmed.
Overwhelmed with the kids in my
Room
Who at two or three
Have more tragedy and hardship
Than I.
And they have no control or
WORDS to put to it.
Their sorrow and pain
Comes out in cries and screams.
In opposition to anyone
Who might care for them.
They've already learned to
Not trust.
Not speak.
Not hope.
I feel overwhelmed.
Because they are so little
And I can do so little.
My heart wants to
Protect them.
To shelter them.
And tell them
They will be OK.
But I don't know that.
I can't say that.
And as far as I can tell,
It won't be OK.
How can we just say
It's sad.
Why doesn't their suffering
Touch a corner
A mere corner of our hearts.
Although whose to say it doesn't.
They are just all depending on me it seems.
All those little ones.
Every day.
And every day I try the best I can
To love them and teach them.
Is that enough?
Is it ever enough?
I go to bed searching for answers
Searching for ideas.
Searching for explanations and
Getting up the next morning and worrying
About them all over again.
I know they aren't my burden to carry.
Yet when they look to me for everything,
I don't feel I'm enough.
So my thoughts go in circles.
As I realize yet again,
I can't save them.
I can only love them for the time
I see them.
And wonder if everything is actually going to work out.
Because some part of me still doesn't know.
I think a lot about things.
About how things change
And how some things don't.
About old friends and how
They have changed
And haven't.
I don't know if the
Changes will mean good
Or bad things for any of them.
Yet it seems we've all lost our idealism somewhere
Between the here and there.
Youth passes us by in a flurry and
Even I don't feel young anymore.
Though some would call me so.
I look on with weariness at the paths
I've chosen and haven't chosen.
It is a hard thing sometimes
To try to look back and
Forward at the
Same time.
There's this part in the Bible
Where the main theme is
Everything is meaningless.
I feel overwhelmed.
Overwhelmed with the kids in my
Room
Who at two or three
Have more tragedy and hardship
Than I.
And they have no control or
WORDS to put to it.
Their sorrow and pain
Comes out in cries and screams.
In opposition to anyone
Who might care for them.
They've already learned to
Not trust.
Not speak.
Not hope.
I feel overwhelmed.
Because they are so little
And I can do so little.
My heart wants to
Protect them.
To shelter them.
And tell them
They will be OK.
But I don't know that.
I can't say that.
And as far as I can tell,
It won't be OK.
How can we just say
It's sad.
Why doesn't their suffering
Touch a corner
A mere corner of our hearts.
Although whose to say it doesn't.
They are just all depending on me it seems.
All those little ones.
Every day.
And every day I try the best I can
To love them and teach them.
Is that enough?
Is it ever enough?
I go to bed searching for answers
Searching for ideas.
Searching for explanations and
Getting up the next morning and worrying
About them all over again.
I know they aren't my burden to carry.
Yet when they look to me for everything,
I don't feel I'm enough.
So my thoughts go in circles.
As I realize yet again,
I can't save them.
I can only love them for the time
I see them.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Cargo Pants and Tears/Are there enough words?
I have this friend who always used to wear these cargo pants with all these pockets. She wore them so much that it became part of what I associated her with. Pockets, baggy, cool, cargo pants. Her up-to-date phone would always be stored neatly away in one of the pockets and her wallet always in easy reach in a back pocket.
Don't ask me why I remember these particular things. I could say something about someone else who matches and is always cute looking. Another friend wears long skirts and shirts. Loves head scarves and comfy but interesting shoes. These are things I remember. I store away.
In any case. I have never owned a pair of cargo pants and have lately become interested in fashion. Mostly because I discovered I have a love of skirts. This discovery has led me to think that perhaps I like other things that would be considered "cute". or "fashionable". So once in a while, I find a shirt in a store considered fashionable that is my style. In such a store I discovered cargo pants on sale. Automatically I thought, cool! I picked out a color and tried them on and transformed myself into a cargo-wearing lady. They are just the right amount of baggy and tight. Just look good enough to make me feel "cool". But part of me thinks that the reason I really wanted them was perhaps as a tribute to my friend who lives in another state and who I think of often. I was never the cool girl, never really the one that got invited, and never really felt sad about that. But. When my mom died, this friend invited. And that to me. Is enough.
Tears came flowing down today because I watched a video about some parents whose son had gotten killed in a head-on crash. As I watched their raw emotion, my own tears came unflowing and I wept. My grief flowed over me and there was nothing to hold back. I cried. I can't believe it's been four years. Can anyone ever know how that is? To just cry. I've been holding back those tears since the date. Perhaps thinking, it's been this long, maybe I'm OK. But my heart still feels torn to pieces sometimes when I think about it. When I think about my family. My sobs and cries seem to go on through the years as a young girl's heart turning into a woman's mourns her mother's absence.
So I put on the old music. The music I listened to over and over and over again whenever I would feel sad about my mom. Music by Matt Kearney, a song by Superchick. Songs that brought about tears and songs that I could turn up loud and maybe drown out the overwhelming grief. To listen to them again is a reminder. A reminder of her. And a reminder of the impact she had on my life. A reminder to grieve when my spirit needs it. I have pain. I carry scars. And sometimes I feel so lost and sad. Without her. But I am still OK. My smile and my passion for the kids carry me through. Having someone whose been willing to walk a very difficult road relationally with me and loved me through it all reminds me to remember mom in a humble and move-forward kind of way. Nothing will ever change the pain of my mother's death. And
I still miss her.
How I wish she hadn't missed out on these last four years. How deeply I wish she could have seen me grow. I wish I could call her up and ask her about life. Though these are wishes, don't get down on me for wishing. These thoughts are fleeting and tomorrow is a new day.
Don't ask me why I remember these particular things. I could say something about someone else who matches and is always cute looking. Another friend wears long skirts and shirts. Loves head scarves and comfy but interesting shoes. These are things I remember. I store away.
In any case. I have never owned a pair of cargo pants and have lately become interested in fashion. Mostly because I discovered I have a love of skirts. This discovery has led me to think that perhaps I like other things that would be considered "cute". or "fashionable". So once in a while, I find a shirt in a store considered fashionable that is my style. In such a store I discovered cargo pants on sale. Automatically I thought, cool! I picked out a color and tried them on and transformed myself into a cargo-wearing lady. They are just the right amount of baggy and tight. Just look good enough to make me feel "cool". But part of me thinks that the reason I really wanted them was perhaps as a tribute to my friend who lives in another state and who I think of often. I was never the cool girl, never really the one that got invited, and never really felt sad about that. But. When my mom died, this friend invited. And that to me. Is enough.
Tears came flowing down today because I watched a video about some parents whose son had gotten killed in a head-on crash. As I watched their raw emotion, my own tears came unflowing and I wept. My grief flowed over me and there was nothing to hold back. I cried. I can't believe it's been four years. Can anyone ever know how that is? To just cry. I've been holding back those tears since the date. Perhaps thinking, it's been this long, maybe I'm OK. But my heart still feels torn to pieces sometimes when I think about it. When I think about my family. My sobs and cries seem to go on through the years as a young girl's heart turning into a woman's mourns her mother's absence.
So I put on the old music. The music I listened to over and over and over again whenever I would feel sad about my mom. Music by Matt Kearney, a song by Superchick. Songs that brought about tears and songs that I could turn up loud and maybe drown out the overwhelming grief. To listen to them again is a reminder. A reminder of her. And a reminder of the impact she had on my life. A reminder to grieve when my spirit needs it. I have pain. I carry scars. And sometimes I feel so lost and sad. Without her. But I am still OK. My smile and my passion for the kids carry me through. Having someone whose been willing to walk a very difficult road relationally with me and loved me through it all reminds me to remember mom in a humble and move-forward kind of way. Nothing will ever change the pain of my mother's death. And
I still miss her.
How I wish she hadn't missed out on these last four years. How deeply I wish she could have seen me grow. I wish I could call her up and ask her about life. Though these are wishes, don't get down on me for wishing. These thoughts are fleeting and tomorrow is a new day.
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