Well, I have moved away from the Noog. here are my final thoughts... I'm pissed that I had to leave, I really liked it there. I'm sad to have said goodbye to new Noog friends who were so wonderful to me. I'm optimistic that we will keep in touch and you won't forget your KayRok. I'm excited for new opportunities in Wisconsin. I'm terrified of the freezing cold winters, yet thrilled to buy a new winter jacket! I'm ready... ready for change... therefore, to my fabulous readers who pay attention to this little blog... yet again, I'm starting over... and starting another new blog... follow me at http://karen-loosechange.blogspot.com/
... it should, at very the least, be entertaining...
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
lighten up.
I figure that I need to lighten up. Sure, everything has been a little heavy lately... but I'm fairly certain that I am not, nor have I ever been, the type of person who allows the "slings and arrows of outrageous fortune" to dictate how I feel about life. No more dwelling on things I can't change or worrying about tomorrow. No more sighing and crying about feeling cursed. Ok... well, I might still sigh and cry... but for tonight, I wanna lighten up.
The other night, I was plagued with intermittent sleep and bad dreams. They were the kind of dreams that you actually dream about waking up, and you are in the room you are sleeping in, but you are still dreaming... so it takes you a while to really figure out that the weird crap that is happening really isn't happening. Now, this was not pleasant at the time, but when I was telling the story to a friend about how I looked over at the door and saw my pillow dancing and taunting me by laughing at me, even I could find the humor in that. I guess I always have had a vivid imagination.
Speaking of imagination... when I was young, my brothers and their friends would all play dungeons and dragons. Now, I've never been a great judge of what is cool or not, and this was no exception. I wanted more than anything to be able to play. However, we were way past the point where it was cool for my brothers to play games with their snotty little sister, so they told me I couldn't play because I had no imagination. Thank you for lying to me... I might have turned out to be an even bigger nerd than I already am.
I have given in to my nerdishness... and yes, from hence forth, nerdishness will be an official word. I have now watched every episode of Stargate (SG-1, Atlantis, and Universe), I have seen the movies, I have seen every episode of Farscape and the Peacekeeper Wars movie. As a child I, of course, saw all the Star Wars movies. My last shred of non-nerdishness dignity is that I have not gotten sucked into the world of Star Trek... although I would not be surprised if that happens soon. After that, I give in... who knows, maybe I'll go to a Comicon... if Michael Shanks is there that is... ugh... I am a nerd.
The other night, I was plagued with intermittent sleep and bad dreams. They were the kind of dreams that you actually dream about waking up, and you are in the room you are sleeping in, but you are still dreaming... so it takes you a while to really figure out that the weird crap that is happening really isn't happening. Now, this was not pleasant at the time, but when I was telling the story to a friend about how I looked over at the door and saw my pillow dancing and taunting me by laughing at me, even I could find the humor in that. I guess I always have had a vivid imagination.
Speaking of imagination... when I was young, my brothers and their friends would all play dungeons and dragons. Now, I've never been a great judge of what is cool or not, and this was no exception. I wanted more than anything to be able to play. However, we were way past the point where it was cool for my brothers to play games with their snotty little sister, so they told me I couldn't play because I had no imagination. Thank you for lying to me... I might have turned out to be an even bigger nerd than I already am.
I have given in to my nerdishness... and yes, from hence forth, nerdishness will be an official word. I have now watched every episode of Stargate (SG-1, Atlantis, and Universe), I have seen the movies, I have seen every episode of Farscape and the Peacekeeper Wars movie. As a child I, of course, saw all the Star Wars movies. My last shred of non-nerdishness dignity is that I have not gotten sucked into the world of Star Trek... although I would not be surprised if that happens soon. After that, I give in... who knows, maybe I'll go to a Comicon... if Michael Shanks is there that is... ugh... I am a nerd.
Monday, June 7, 2010
losing it.
ok. so I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. I'm slightly losing it. It... being the ability to remember who I am and why I love life. Furthermore... I watched the season finale of The Biggest Loser on hulu.com the other night and remembered, somehow, that I don't remember who I am. All of this got me thinking... maybe if I lost it. It... being the weight I've carried for 20 years, both physically and mentally from all of the trauma of my childhood, that just maybe if I lose it I could become who I am supposed to be.
Does that sound pathetic? Does it sound a little too psycho babble? Am I pulling at straws to keep a semblance of sanity in all of the ridiculous crises that continue to arise around me?
Honestly, I don't care. I need a project. I think that my project is going to be ME. I'm considering beginning a new blog about my losing it just two months shy of turning 30. I am actually considering promoting this blog to anyone and everyone I can and perhaps even making it a monetized blog. So here is the reason why...
I love to write. I want to take my life back from fate, or destiny, or my past, or whatever has been leading me down the paths I've taken in the past years. I want to be a healthy person inside and out. Furthermore, I think that people would enjoy reading about this journey. Could it be possible that people in my life, my community, and even strangers would want to support this girl in changing HER life? I've spent so many years trying to be the influential person in other people's lives, the shoulder to cry on, even the one to give advice. However, I need people to influence me in a positive direction right now. I need people to allow me to cry on their shoulder. I need people to give me advice. So maybe, just maybe, my first true attempt at letting the world in on my writing could be ever more so helpful to my recovery of ME.
What do you think... am I losing it? or could I possibly lose it in a way that could change my life for good?
Does that sound pathetic? Does it sound a little too psycho babble? Am I pulling at straws to keep a semblance of sanity in all of the ridiculous crises that continue to arise around me?
Honestly, I don't care. I need a project. I think that my project is going to be ME. I'm considering beginning a new blog about my losing it just two months shy of turning 30. I am actually considering promoting this blog to anyone and everyone I can and perhaps even making it a monetized blog. So here is the reason why...
I love to write. I want to take my life back from fate, or destiny, or my past, or whatever has been leading me down the paths I've taken in the past years. I want to be a healthy person inside and out. Furthermore, I think that people would enjoy reading about this journey. Could it be possible that people in my life, my community, and even strangers would want to support this girl in changing HER life? I've spent so many years trying to be the influential person in other people's lives, the shoulder to cry on, even the one to give advice. However, I need people to influence me in a positive direction right now. I need people to allow me to cry on their shoulder. I need people to give me advice. So maybe, just maybe, my first true attempt at letting the world in on my writing could be ever more so helpful to my recovery of ME.
What do you think... am I losing it? or could I possibly lose it in a way that could change my life for good?
Thursday, June 3, 2010
closure.
With some good advice and a lot of consideration, I have decided not to go to the funeral. I'm not sure if it is the "right" decision. I actually still have about an hour or two to change my mind, I guess. I just thought I'd babble to the world wide web about my thought process on this one.
Seven years ago... I was at Outlaw Ranch in the black hills of South Dakota. It was staff training and the summer had not yet begun, when I received the phone call from my brother telling me that Marie had died. Marie Uttech was a second mom to me. Her sons were about the same age as my brothers and I spent my childhood on their heels just trying to keep up playing with the boys. She had bandaged more than a few wounds and played and cooked and loved me as if I were a daughter to her. We had our "hug of the day"... and in my memory, I thought I must have gotten a Marie hug every day. I was heavy laden with the news of her death. Yet, I was not able to return for the funeral. Months had passed. I was driving through the smoky mountains with my brother on my way towards my new adventure in South Carolina when I realized that I was still grieving the loss. It had seemed completely unreal to me. There was a part of me that could just ignore that news from the end of May and expect to get my hug of the day the next time I was in Wisconsin.
November... I was in a hotel in Chattanooga, TN during our job fair for the new Earth Fare. It was late when mom called and I just knew it was bad news. I was extremely short with her. I didn't want to hear the small talk, just get to the point. Grandpa had fallen, hit his head, took a turn for the worst, and was going to die. Sitting up with my grandpa as he lived his last hours. Holding his hand as he took his last breaths. Being a witness to death. This was a new different experience for me. There was no denial. There was no ignoring it.
Closure is a funny thing. It always comes in different packages. Ted's death is peculiar. He was young and healthy. I have spoken on the phone to him three times in the past few months, but prior to that, we hadn't spoken in years. One of the phone conversations was terrible. I had yelled at him, called him irresponsible. I told him that he was selfish and made it very clear just how badly he had hurt me. I wanted to hurt him with my words. It had been years, but somehow the pain of how our relationship had ended was right there at the surface. I feel very fortunate that this was not the phone conversation I have to remember as the last time I ever spoke to him. The last time I talked to him, I was driving to South Carolina after losing my job. It was a good conversation, oddly healing in many ways. And it gave some closure to the loss I had experienced four years ago. Now... now I deal with a different loss.
There is no way to explain why his death is so emotionally confusing for me. There is pain, anger, irony, shock, and so many other emotions that keep springing up from nowhere. I don't think I can get any sense of closure by attending his funeral. Seeing his parents, his brother, his friends... seeing his wife. Wife... the woman who called to inform me of his death. I do not wish to cause more grief for a grieving widow, but I also do not wish for that grieving widow to offer support for my grief.
So, no... I will not be attending the funeral tomorrow. I will go to his grave on my own at some point, and I will find my closure. Is it the right decision? I think its the right decision for me.
Seven years ago... I was at Outlaw Ranch in the black hills of South Dakota. It was staff training and the summer had not yet begun, when I received the phone call from my brother telling me that Marie had died. Marie Uttech was a second mom to me. Her sons were about the same age as my brothers and I spent my childhood on their heels just trying to keep up playing with the boys. She had bandaged more than a few wounds and played and cooked and loved me as if I were a daughter to her. We had our "hug of the day"... and in my memory, I thought I must have gotten a Marie hug every day. I was heavy laden with the news of her death. Yet, I was not able to return for the funeral. Months had passed. I was driving through the smoky mountains with my brother on my way towards my new adventure in South Carolina when I realized that I was still grieving the loss. It had seemed completely unreal to me. There was a part of me that could just ignore that news from the end of May and expect to get my hug of the day the next time I was in Wisconsin.
November... I was in a hotel in Chattanooga, TN during our job fair for the new Earth Fare. It was late when mom called and I just knew it was bad news. I was extremely short with her. I didn't want to hear the small talk, just get to the point. Grandpa had fallen, hit his head, took a turn for the worst, and was going to die. Sitting up with my grandpa as he lived his last hours. Holding his hand as he took his last breaths. Being a witness to death. This was a new different experience for me. There was no denial. There was no ignoring it.
Closure is a funny thing. It always comes in different packages. Ted's death is peculiar. He was young and healthy. I have spoken on the phone to him three times in the past few months, but prior to that, we hadn't spoken in years. One of the phone conversations was terrible. I had yelled at him, called him irresponsible. I told him that he was selfish and made it very clear just how badly he had hurt me. I wanted to hurt him with my words. It had been years, but somehow the pain of how our relationship had ended was right there at the surface. I feel very fortunate that this was not the phone conversation I have to remember as the last time I ever spoke to him. The last time I talked to him, I was driving to South Carolina after losing my job. It was a good conversation, oddly healing in many ways. And it gave some closure to the loss I had experienced four years ago. Now... now I deal with a different loss.
There is no way to explain why his death is so emotionally confusing for me. There is pain, anger, irony, shock, and so many other emotions that keep springing up from nowhere. I don't think I can get any sense of closure by attending his funeral. Seeing his parents, his brother, his friends... seeing his wife. Wife... the woman who called to inform me of his death. I do not wish to cause more grief for a grieving widow, but I also do not wish for that grieving widow to offer support for my grief.
So, no... I will not be attending the funeral tomorrow. I will go to his grave on my own at some point, and I will find my closure. Is it the right decision? I think its the right decision for me.
Monday, May 31, 2010
loony bin
I wonder what one has to do in order to be put into the loony bin. Last night I had thought, maybe I can walk out of my apartment in nothing but a bra, boxers and cowboy boots. I would walk down past the mall to a hotel that had an outdoor pool and jump in... boxers, bra, boots and all... then I'd sing the Star Spangled Banner at the top of my lungs until they picked me up and placed me in a mental institution. I could lay in bed all day, get three meals brought to me on a little tray, along with some wonderful emotion numbing drugs, and just be blah. I could get as angry as I want. I could get as depressed as I want. I could let all of the emotions just bubble to the surface instead of hiding behind sarcasm and a smile. With my luck, though, I would have just been put in jail.
Today I saw this little girl, probably about 2 or 3 years old. She was walking a ways behind her older sister and just wailing... tears staining her cheeks. What is the age when you learn to hide your emotions in public. Is it a lesson that our parents teach us? There is no crying in baseball.. or in public. Never yell when you are angry. Never laugh too loud when something is funny. Smile... if you don't smile then everyone will wonder who died.
Ted Rogers Allaire. That's who died. In August of 2003, I moved to Mt. Pleasant, SC with 2 of my best friends. We hadn't even lived in SC for a week before I had met Ted. He strut through the smoky bar up to the microphone to sing Bon Jovi at Karaoke... jeans, black shirt, black cowboy hat... it was the perfect scene from a sappy romantic comedy. A month later, the cowboy remembered me when he saw me again. We began dating, fell in love, began wedding planning, and then like every fairy tale (at least in my life), everything fell apart. We had been together for 2 and a half years when I finally broke everything off for good. In the scheme of things, it was for the best... even through the pain of a broken heart, and the subsequent pain of losing that perfect wedding I had been planning on.
Sunday evening I received a call from who I have learned now was his wife, although I had always only known her as his ex-girlfriend. Ted was in a jet ski accident on Saturday night and died. I can't seem to say anything else... can't say he passed away or didn't make it or moved towards the light or even kicked the bucket... Ted is dead. He is dead and we had really loved each other.
Everyone keeps telling me how strong I am. But I am mostly avoiding people so that I don't have to exhaust myself keeping to society's rules about public displays of emotion. I have gone just a little crazy. I don't think its truly time for the loony bin, but I don't even have the energy to keep up with my own thoughts and emotions. I have told people for almost a year now just how very excited I am to turn 30. I have said that the twenties have done all they could to beat the hope out of me. I think those damned twenties are just doing their best to get a few last kicks in. I just hope they have gotten it all out, because I don't think I can handle another blow.
Yet I stare those twenties in the face, hand balled into a fist and say "take that you damned twenties!!! I will remain an optimist, an idealist, a person with hope... I will believe in the good in people and a happy ending in the future!!" Everyone is right, even though I may be going a little nuts right now, I am strong. And tonight I remember why...
"but he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.' So, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me."
-2 Cor 12:9
Today I saw this little girl, probably about 2 or 3 years old. She was walking a ways behind her older sister and just wailing... tears staining her cheeks. What is the age when you learn to hide your emotions in public. Is it a lesson that our parents teach us? There is no crying in baseball.. or in public. Never yell when you are angry. Never laugh too loud when something is funny. Smile... if you don't smile then everyone will wonder who died.
Ted Rogers Allaire. That's who died. In August of 2003, I moved to Mt. Pleasant, SC with 2 of my best friends. We hadn't even lived in SC for a week before I had met Ted. He strut through the smoky bar up to the microphone to sing Bon Jovi at Karaoke... jeans, black shirt, black cowboy hat... it was the perfect scene from a sappy romantic comedy. A month later, the cowboy remembered me when he saw me again. We began dating, fell in love, began wedding planning, and then like every fairy tale (at least in my life), everything fell apart. We had been together for 2 and a half years when I finally broke everything off for good. In the scheme of things, it was for the best... even through the pain of a broken heart, and the subsequent pain of losing that perfect wedding I had been planning on.
Sunday evening I received a call from who I have learned now was his wife, although I had always only known her as his ex-girlfriend. Ted was in a jet ski accident on Saturday night and died. I can't seem to say anything else... can't say he passed away or didn't make it or moved towards the light or even kicked the bucket... Ted is dead. He is dead and we had really loved each other.
Everyone keeps telling me how strong I am. But I am mostly avoiding people so that I don't have to exhaust myself keeping to society's rules about public displays of emotion. I have gone just a little crazy. I don't think its truly time for the loony bin, but I don't even have the energy to keep up with my own thoughts and emotions. I have told people for almost a year now just how very excited I am to turn 30. I have said that the twenties have done all they could to beat the hope out of me. I think those damned twenties are just doing their best to get a few last kicks in. I just hope they have gotten it all out, because I don't think I can handle another blow.
Yet I stare those twenties in the face, hand balled into a fist and say "take that you damned twenties!!! I will remain an optimist, an idealist, a person with hope... I will believe in the good in people and a happy ending in the future!!" Everyone is right, even though I may be going a little nuts right now, I am strong. And tonight I remember why...
"but he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.' So, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me."
-2 Cor 12:9
Thursday, May 27, 2010
home.
well kids... all good stories must come to an end. I came to the Noog looking for life and found misery. Its not your fault, Noog... you did all you could. You enticed me with your pretty mountains and rivers and opened your doors to me with welcoming hearts. But as another turn in the road would have it. I must take my leave.
I am moving back home. I have realized over the past decade that home is not a fixed place. I have a home in so many locations around this country. However, my search for home has led me back to Madison, WI. Perhaps someday our paths will cross again, Noog...
For the past 17 days I have been hibernating, soul searching, getting pissed off, getting sad, and breathing in LIFE... There are so many to thank for taking care of me. Greg... you are my hero. You took me in and let me be a mass of nothingness for as long as I needed to. Misty... how I have been blessed with you in my life for so long is truly a mystery. You have always helped me up from my mistakes without judgment and with that gentle loving way about you. Shelle, you are my MOH... and that really means that you hold a special place of honor in my life. You are so good to me. You know me better than anyone, flaws and all, and still laugh with me about my mistakes and cheer me on (even if this one landed you what you've been wanting for so long... me home... I know that you would've supported me regardless of where life took me). My Mad-Towners (Shane, Miranda, JP, Tals, Chuckie, Jamie, Mike, Jillian,Katie)... can you imagine how it feels to have so many people missing you and gathering around you in a time of pain? You are a unique group of friends and I am so proud to be a part of it! Lance & Robin... you always know what to say... even if you don't know that you do. Advice from you is almost always painfully accurate and genuinely loving. Jon... a blast from my past that reminded me of both simpler times and the complex realities that I MUST face now... no more hiding. and Mom... you are phenomenal. I don't know how we are going to survive each other living together again... but in the end we both know our bickering is somehow rooted in love. Thank you for always being the voice in my head.
And as I finish up this post... I can hear the music from the Oscars playing telling me to quit thanking people and get off the damned stage... well, what did you expect? we all know how I love being the center of attention!! I've made decision #1 on my new adventure... move home.
there's no place like home.
I am moving back home. I have realized over the past decade that home is not a fixed place. I have a home in so many locations around this country. However, my search for home has led me back to Madison, WI. Perhaps someday our paths will cross again, Noog...
For the past 17 days I have been hibernating, soul searching, getting pissed off, getting sad, and breathing in LIFE... There are so many to thank for taking care of me. Greg... you are my hero. You took me in and let me be a mass of nothingness for as long as I needed to. Misty... how I have been blessed with you in my life for so long is truly a mystery. You have always helped me up from my mistakes without judgment and with that gentle loving way about you. Shelle, you are my MOH... and that really means that you hold a special place of honor in my life. You are so good to me. You know me better than anyone, flaws and all, and still laugh with me about my mistakes and cheer me on (even if this one landed you what you've been wanting for so long... me home... I know that you would've supported me regardless of where life took me). My Mad-Towners (Shane, Miranda, JP, Tals, Chuckie, Jamie, Mike, Jillian,Katie)... can you imagine how it feels to have so many people missing you and gathering around you in a time of pain? You are a unique group of friends and I am so proud to be a part of it! Lance & Robin... you always know what to say... even if you don't know that you do. Advice from you is almost always painfully accurate and genuinely loving. Jon... a blast from my past that reminded me of both simpler times and the complex realities that I MUST face now... no more hiding. and Mom... you are phenomenal. I don't know how we are going to survive each other living together again... but in the end we both know our bickering is somehow rooted in love. Thank you for always being the voice in my head.
And as I finish up this post... I can hear the music from the Oscars playing telling me to quit thanking people and get off the damned stage... well, what did you expect? we all know how I love being the center of attention!! I've made decision #1 on my new adventure... move home.
there's no place like home.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Life.
I took a walk today.
A squirrel looked around the base of a tree at me curiously.
I saw lilacs. Do lilacs grow in the south? I don't remember ever seeing lilacs south of the mason dixon line in the past 7 years that I've lived here.
I had to take off my jacket. Its warmed up here in the past few days. The heat from the sun was warm and comforting on my shoulders. And as I stopped to take a deep breath, I remembered that there is life all around. For almost a year now, my life has been Earth Fare. I would have never quit... and now, well, there is life.
for those of you a little confused at all this, I lost my job on Monday. Well, its actually funny that people say they "lost" their job. For most, its not like you wake up one day and, oops!! where'd my job go? You don't start a search party looking for your job, or retrace your last steps trying to remember where you had laid down that damned job. No, most people just get fired. The funny thing is, I know that I got fired on Monday... but I lost my job a while ago. I have been retracing my steps to figure out where it went. I have enlisted friends and family to help me find it again and make it work again. Getting fired was the easy part. My life has been completely tied up with Earth Fare for about a year now. I've even written about finding a life outside Earth Fare. Did you ever read many posts that told of my success in that? Probably because there was not much success. The problem with putting your life into your work is that when your work is gone, what is left?
Well, I took a walk today.
There is life.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
