2011 prediction

This is what I read tonight about my upcoming year. I'm looking forward to the introspection and stability, especially the financial part:

Year 2011 Overview

'Change' is your middle name at this point, Capricorn. You've been through more personal transformation in the past two years than perhaps in your entire life. The upside is that you're getting used to the intensity of it all. It helps that you're realizing the futility in holding on to people and possessions that only stunt your growth. So many layers continue to be shed on a daily basis but this also gives way to unquestionable personal power. Pluto in Capricorn will carry on for another 14 years; so if this is just the tip of the iceberg, imagine who you will be on the other side of your metamorphosis.

This year the focus shifts from a lifestyle focused on gadgets, information and social networking to introspection, home and family. You are about to encounter your most uncensored raw self on levels as of yet unprecedented. Ready yourself, Goat, because this spring an explosion of fiery planets in Aries sweeps the very base of your horoscope getting you back in touch with some of your most primal instincts. Competition, aggression and the need for plenty of physical outlets ensue.

Some long-standing money issues are finally coming to a finish as the planet of illusion and delusion gets ready to move on to your communication sector. You've learned to use your discrimination in choosing where to invest and where to spend. For the next 14 years, instead of worrying about money leakages you'll be working on mindfulness to avoid spacing out. In any case, your way with words is apt to become poetic and inspired, which can only make the world appear infinitely more beautiful.

"Yep"

My biggest pet peeve is not people who smack their lips, chew gum loudly, burp or make other sounds loudly and in public. It is one singular thing: "Yep" in response to me saying "Thank You." I don't know if this is something associated with the Midwest or just something I never noticed. Perhaps it's the newest development in the vernacular.
The thing about it that makes me the most incensed is that saying "Yep" in response to "Thank You" to me implies that Yes, I should in fact thank you for whatever you've done as in "Yes, you should have said Thank you. What I did demands that you thank me." I realize "yep" is a one syllable word, easy to get out. Most children around 12 months of age are able to say "yeah," yep" or some conjugation of the sound. However, a common response to "thank you" should contain at more than a simple of acknowledgment that someone has spoken. I will provide the following possible responses:
You're welcome (truly the most popular in my book)
No problem
My pleasure
Any time

While I realize these are all 3 syllables they at least convey an appropriate response. So thanks for reading...don't you dare say "yep"! ;)

Stress dreams

Apparently I am experiencing more anxiety than I thought. Things at work have been busy and with planning the vacation and munchkin's birthday, it hasn't been the most relaxing past few days. Yet it really takes a significant amount of stress to induce these dreams I have. In the past it's been a sign that I need to get out of whatever situation in which I have currently placed myself and I typically do. If it's signficant enough, the sobbing in my dream is realized when I wake up. Only this time, it did not relate to work, the munchkin or really anything on which I can have an impact.
Dad had a hard time with the April visit. As I mentioned in the last post, he and I had to have a sit-down talk because I was ready to be done with him. That manifested in my dream last night.

The set up for my dream was, I believe, Christmas at my grandparents house. Only my grandfather has been dead for 15 years and my sweet grandmother now lives in a retirement community battling dementia. Matt and I show up with presents and the whole she-bang and, as soon as we are unloaded, and Matt has left the room, my father launches into the issues from April (more like sharing them with the other family members) and then tells me I should leave. This, of course, is crushing. I oblige but not before going into the basement to tell my grandfather goodbye, which he doesn't understand. Then the dream transitions to another family gathering where I am still extremely hurt. Once everyone has arrived and getting ready to eat together, various members of my family begin to try to "share" what happened at the last gathering and I repeatedly ask them to stop, shift to screaming at them to stop. The group, at that point, begins to laugh and count as I repeat the phrase "Shut your mouth" as each person begins to talk. When they reach 8 or 9, instigated by a tall "uncle" (don't know who he is) I launch myself into him, throw him to the floor and repeatedly scream the same phrase while punching him in the face.
Where did this anger come from? Why did I wake up on the verge of tears?
I know I miss my grandfather and I didn't realize it had been 15 years until I started writing this. I hate I didn't get to tell him goodbye. The brain tumor took him away before I could say I loved him one more time.
I dunno...probably ought to get on the treadmill and run, but now it's time for work.

Ahhh

There are definitely days I love living in Iowa. Monday was particularly lovely as this beautiful eagle was sitting in the tree at the end of my parking lot. He sat there long enough for me to get this picture before he flew away, soaring above the law building and up the river.
It made my heart happy.

Bummer-ish Birthday

My birthday was less than exciting. I guess that's what happens when Matt's out of town and very little else happens. The happy caveat for me was being taken to lunch by Brian, Ann and Stephanie. Still the diappointment was there, I have to admit. I was a little bummed out that there was no sign on my door (as usually occurs for birthdays in my department). Then again, I haven't had a sign on my door since BB left. There were no treats brought in my honor. And, while I didn't expect anything special for me, the fact that banners have been placed on doors this week makes me a little sad.
Dinner consisted of yummy take-home Chinese with my baby and then off to bed. I realize it wasn't a major birthday, but a solo birthday wasn't a desire either. I think it would have been better had I known that Matt was auditioning having advanced. Oh, well. If that's the worst thing that happens, I'm in pretty good shape.

another avenue for my ocd-ness

Since moving to IC I have developed a few different ways to channel my OCD. First, I was crocheting--mostly scarves--which served me well since it was so freakin' cold compared to what we were used to winters feeling like. Then 2 years later, I transitioned to cross-stitch, which I still enjoy, especially for making Christmas stockings for friends and family. They are gifts that can last for much longer than a scarf.

Last Thursday I went to a beginning scrapbookers class. I have never been to a class and always figured it would be much more difficult, so I thought I would give it a try. The main purpose to make Neala's baby book be not boring. The problem is, I enjoyed it more than I thought and have decided to expand my page making past the 2 from the class and may have gone a little overboard. I bought 2 albums (1 for the cards we received for Neala and 1 for the actual pictures of Neala), 1 pack of paper, 2 packs of cardstock, extra page protectors, and a die cutting machine. Yes, I'm a dork, but at least I'm a creative dork. In the mean time I still need to finish 3 stockings for friends (hopefully getting at least one of them done by Christmas--maybe if I got off the computer while Neala was sleeping...).

Off to be crafty...

Blessings

Last Friday 2Bit and I went to the mall to, um, "walk around." There was a bit of shopping to be done, but nothing too damaging to our bank accounts. While we were walking through JC Penney, Neala started fussing a bit so I picked her up. As we left the Baby section to scout out a feeding location, a sweet lady walked by and said "Oh, that's a new baby." I responded and we talked for a few minutes while the lady admired my little one. As we ended our brief conversation, instead of saying "Have a nice day" or some other typical concluding statement she said "Blessings."
That struck me as a wonderful thing to say. I think I'll keep that in my vernacular for future baby interactions or, for any conversation.

Blessings!

It's that time again...JibJab is baaack!

Hooray for JibJab and their newest contribution to the upcoming election. I can't wait to see what's next. 'Cause Times, they are a changing. :-) I heart JibJab!

Ahh-lastic

Five years ago, the thought of elastic waistbands were reserved for my various athletic activities. If the word "ball" wasn't included in the title (volleyball, softball, football, etc.), elastic was not part of my wardrobe. I would even turn my nose up at pretty pants because, ugh, they had elastic on the back waistband. Hear that sound? That is the sound of Ginny changing her tune...lah-lah-laaaaah!

Saturday, wonderful Jana brought 2 16-gallon tubs of maternity clothes and I had a grand time washing many loads of clothes. (She has wonderful taste.) Yesterday, I received 2 new pairs of pants I ordered online. And now that my waist is expanding (no, it doesn't have to do with sour cream and onion dip---entirely), I am enjoying the gifted and purchased clothes. Not until Sunday did I realize how much I now love elastic waistbands. They truly make me smile. The only thing I have to get used to is the absence of belt loops, which I know are completely unnecessary for elastic pants, but the perfect spot for hanging my keys when I'm at work. A small price to pay for amazing, and cute, comfort.

Make it stop! Make it stop! Make it stop!

It is snowing...again. Or maybe I should say...still. As of 11-ish this morning, we had 7.3 inches and it's been coming down in a horizontal manner. I mean, I love snow. It usually makes me smile. But multiple feet of snow for multiple days is more than I can handle and while I could conceivable try get to work, I really don't want to risk the frustration or danger of driving on the roads. Our streets haven't even been plowed since before dawn. Matt has plowed our driveway twice and you can't even tell.

He did earn some super brownie points by helping one of our new neighbors clear off their driveway this morning. The neighbors moved in a few weeks after we did and are both 80+ years old. He's such a good boy.

Still, the snow can stop now. Seriously, it can stop. I mean it!
I'm done whining now. Hope you're enjoying 60+ degrees and sun!

Stupid Whistlepig!

Once again, Punxsutawney Phil crept from his hole and saw his shadow. This almost immediately had an effect in the ole' Midwest. Yesterday, in a 4-hour span, we got 8 inches of snow. EIGHT! C'mon, Phil! Don't you think we've had enough?!
This wouldn't be so bad, I'm sure, if I weren't missing the sun and it's magnificent rays. Alas, they are to be hidden until Friday (or so). Granted, it is not frigidly cold outside; it is 2 degrees above freezing. Yet, that isn't enough to quelch my desire for Spring. I want to be able to open the windows in my home and feel the beautiful calming breeze of Spring.
Yet the whistlepig (my mother's name for groundhog) could not deliver. Wonder if he (or his handlers) accept bribery for next year's prediction. Hey, it's worth a shot!

Happy/sad report

Happy in a selfish way; sad for the rest of the IC world who will never know the joy.
http://www.dreamcoatcakes.com/

Relaaaaxing

Now that all the presentations are done, the abstracts submitted, the house almost clean (well, it will be eventually), I am finally stress-free, back to my OCD on cross-stitch self. It's such a great feeling. I also got my ego boost from Dr G. The ego that was bruised so many weeks/months ago was now stroked for the hard work and dedication. I guess the next time I start to whine, I need to remember, the good part will come, too...eventually.
Happy thoughts all the way around--

Almost Halloween Humbug

Now this isn't something I would expect in the great state of Iowa. South of the Mason Dixon, yes, but Iowa, no.
Good thing our Governor is on his toes! I'm also glad I bought my pumpkin from a roadside vendor (i.e., homegrown) and not from a chain.
Maybe we'll get taxed on Apples, Eggs, and other assorted items that can double as decoration...
Then these poor kids!! Geez!
Ah bureaurcratcs are fun!

I'm over myself now...regular non-pouting life resumed

The past week was wonderful; busy, but wonderful. One of my favorite BFFs from middle school, Bev, came to visit. While I don't have any photographic evidence we did manage to chill, have good food with good friends, and catch up on old and new times. Dad and Jo were supposed to come last weekend but, again, the airline gods were not in their favor and instead they trekked from home, to the airport, back home. All-in-all, it was probably a good thing because I was dead on Saturday after Bev's 5:30 a.m. flight requiring us to wake up at 3 a.m. (Yes, there is a 3 a.m.; it's dark).
Work has been better. I'm working on an abstract for an International conference. The results of this part will be my second paper submitted for publication and hopefully published. We've been pretty busy since our last conference and it looks like we'll have 5 studies to submit for posters or presentations.
Other than the normal stuff, I've been channeling my OCD into cross stitch. I've finished my dad's Christmas present (need to get it framed) and am working on 1 of 3 projects I have in the works. It's been a lot of fun to see the evolution of a piece of thread on a cloth. I'll post pictures as I finish the projects (I'll have to wait until after Christmas in case Dad happens to read this).
I am also very excited about Halloween coming up. I can't wait to see how the kids in this neighborhood do Halloween. I doubt it will be quite the same as 2 years ago (last year I hid in the basement with the lights out--sad, yes, I know). I also have a presentation that day for prenatal & postnatal women who are in the lower-income areas. I am supposed to talk about Music Therapy and the use of music for bonding between mother and baby. I'm a little nervous and excited about the same time. Plus the In-laws are coming next weekend. Can't wait to see Momma D with hair and no medi-port!
Until then, planning, planning, planning.
Enjoy your day!

Just blah

Talk about a 180 from yesterday. Today I am experiencing a combination of many emotions: happiness, frustration, anxiety, apathy, sadness to name a few.
Yesterday, one of my coworkers had a beautiful little girl. We anxiously watched their blog all day as they posted various progressions (and non-progressions) throughout the labor. It was wonderful and I was so excited for them. Their little girl arrived at almost 8 p.m. and I was so elated for their new, beautiful, health addition to their family. But almost as quickly as I celebrated for them, I felt a huge sadness come over me (with a bit of pre-emtpive jealousy). While I am so very happy for these 2 amazing people, I ache to have a little one of my own and it's not just the "oh, I 'd like to have a baby one day" kind of feeling. It almost feels like a need to have one. I don't think my life will be any more "complete" perse, I just have an innate feeling to be a mother, to have a little one. And, as more and more of my friends have children and I watch them together, I feel such an emptiness that I can't completely explain.
Work has been a bit frustrating, too, but in a different way than I'm used to experiencing. I'm starting to get more of the beaureaucratic stuff, I loathe. I'm always one who is willing to bend, willing to adapt to help others. But with one of our new projects, we're delving into new territory and I have begun to feel as though some others see my research as inferior. I have actually been involved in a conversation where someone teetered on the edge of the phrase "my research is more important," but it was quickly averted. Right now, I'm just blah and no matter how much I pull on my bootstraps, they just keep stretching...

Submitted, baby!

I have finally submitted my first manuscript for publication or at least for review (for now. It will be published). The undertaking was a bit more detailed than I remembered, but that is probably because the last submission wasn't mine. For my paper I found something that was wrong 5+ times before I hit submit without fear in my heart. So, to celebrate I took a cake into work. Actually, I got Matt to bring one for me. It was sooo good, but it got everyone wondering what I'm going to do once it's actually published. I'll have to think about that one as I work on paper #2. Soon I'll be able to honestly say that I've been published and not just in college newspapers as responses to editorials and the like, but in a peer reviewed journal that professionals will read (or at least have in a bookcase in their office).
Hope you have something worth smiling about, too!

What a waste of space :)

This morning I was driving to work and, as I got in the car, noticed the song that had been running in my head earlier in the morning was now on the radio at about the point that was cycling in my memory. The next song that came up next was "Let's here it for the boy" from Footloose, which I realized as I drove down the road I know every word. Put this on top of "Bust A Move" by Young MC, all the hymns and songs from 1890 to 1960s I need to know from hospice, and you get just a glimpse into the repertoire that runs through my brain. So sad, so sad. There has to be something better that could take up that space, at least where "Bust A Move" is concerned. If only there were a recycle bin in my brain. I'll bet I could have a significant finding that would benefit mankind if I could simply erase the really unimportant knowledge I possess.


Maybe that's why my dad wants me to try to go on the "Singing Bee." Will I do it? Nah

happy music to you

And so it begins, without me

Monday is going to be strange for me. This will officially be the first time Fall classes have started at the University and I will not be participating. January didn't feel like this. Maybe it's because I was still working on my paper and felt as though I was taking an independent study. Maybe it had something to do with the second semester; it didn't feel very different. Perhaps it's all been a transition; a slow transition from student to professional, from part-time to full-time. I don't know. All I do know is that my schedule will be the same every day, 7:30-4:30 but without homework, finals, or projects.

I don't think I'm going to miss taking classes, stressing over exams or trying to figure out different professors' ways of teaching, testing, etc. I don't think I'll miss it at all. I feel like it's time I step in a different direction at least for now. I'm still pondering the PhD or perhaps a Fulbright's in my future. My only challenge in remembering what day it is now that everyone's work schedule has changed. Eh, if that's all I have to stress about, I'm doing pretty darn good. :)

peace, love and no homework

"Papa Bear" scares me

We have an ice cream truck that travels daily through our neighborhood. Like all ice cream trucks I've ever known, it has various musical selections playing over a loudspeaker that sound very much like a calliope. This truck is different from any other truck I've ever heard in the repertoire that is chosen to call children like the Pied Piper. Actually, the music is pretty scary sometimes, especially in terms of flowing from one song to the next.

Allow me to illustrate with a sample of songs played (sometimes in this particular order):

Old MacDonald (not sure how many animals are on the farm)
Jingle Bells (in June, July or August--I guess they keep Christmas year round)
The Yellow Rose of Texas
A Time for Us (from "Romeo and Juliet")--not what I would call a particularly happy song
Happy Birthday (it's someone's birthday every day)
Oh Suzanna

If you catch the flow of it, you'll notice there is no flow and not all of the songs are what I would call "appropriate." There are actually times that I miss the repetitive music of "The Entertainer" without the bridge or ending, brace yourself, that used to play in the 'hood. (Yes, I said it, but only that. And even then that made me crazy because I'd have to sing the next part in my head so I wouldn't go insane.) At least that made a little more sense than random songs played in no specific fashion. I'm waiting for "Laura's Song" from Dr. Zhivago or maybe "I Feel Pretty" from West Side Story to be followed by something like "The March to the Gallows." Then the scary music circle would be complete. For now, I'm just perplexed and a little amused by the randomness of music that is believed to attract the small ones like moths to a flame...Oh and the name of the ice cream truck is "Papa Bear."