Souvenir

In addition to more photos than I can count, my husband and I like to pick up a little trinket from the locations we visit while on an extended vacation. Usually, the item is something small ... A hand painted sand dollar from our honeymoon, a piece of mountain rock from Colorado ... Definitely not something worth more than a couple of dollars.

Our family vacation to Mexico being no exception, we came home with a nice piece of coral from the beach that flanked our resort and a rustic magnet from one of the vendors around Chichen Itza ...


Or so we thought ...

It turns out, our leisurely vacation out of the States yielded something else, as well ... Something worth much more than a couple of dollars. It turns out our vacation produced a fertilized embryo, which implanted itself in my uterus, which has now grown to become a 14-week fetus.

It gives the statement "Made in Mexico" a whole new meaning for us ... One that will come in quite handy when we wish to torment our teenage son or daughter one day.

:)

Mid-winter Slump

This February has been especially rough on me and I feel as if I'm caught in some sort of trap. Motivation is low, creativity is nonexistent ... I find myself counting down the minutes until I can curl up in my warm bed and fall asleep for the night.

While this is doing wonders for the amount of time my brain is getting to reboot every night, its not doing much for this blog.

It doesn't help that I'm feeling more frustrated than inspired at work, and I don't want to constantly complain about the incredibly crazy situations that make up my day-to-day life ... Then my readership (of two people?) will really go down! I just feel like whenever things seem to be moving in the right direction, something has to ruin everything.

• A productive lab day for all of my classes is sabotaged (at least in my mind) by someone stealing my supplies.
• A seemingly "easy" class of simple note-taking becomes a shouting match between two girls when one none-too-kindly requests that the other "shut up."
• A student recites my written words from past discipline referrals and even a conference questionnaire in front of his peers ... Announcing that I must be passive-aggressive for good measure.
• Students give up if they feel overwhelmed (challenged?) by an assignment and then blame me for not "helping them."

I don't know if this winter weather is pulling everyone down, or if I'm all alone in having a really crappy month.

It just stinks that all these little storm clouds fill my thoughts overshadow the good things that are currently happening, too ...

Maybe next month.

Trophy Husband

Since I can't count on my students to make me proud by showing me all the wonderful things they've learned, it's nice to come home to a husband that is still kicking butt at his classes.

To recap (for any new readers that may have stumbled here), he is back at school, taking courses in American Sign Language and Deaf Culture for an eventual certificate in Deaf Interpretation. Pessimistic as always when it comes to him and school, he continues to tell me his school stories, half-heartedly, like he's on the brink of giving up ... When, in reality, I know that he's flying through the classes and signing exercises like he's been doing them his whole life.

For example, just the other night, he was sitting at our computer, watching an automated hand spell various three-letter words, and then typing his responses. Totally nailing each one, I persuaded him to step outside of his timid little comfort zone and try and increase the speed ... First to "fast" and then to "deaf." Well, wouldn't you know it? He was getting just about every word on the "deaf" setting and making it look easy!

Like I said, he's kicking butt.

I'm so proud of him!

Night and Day

About a month ago, my parents took the whole family out for a "game night" at a local bowling alley. It was my mother's attempt to breathe some life (and some money) into a struggling small business ... and to get everyone together before her youngest headed back to college.

Despite the blizzard-like driving conditions that night, and the hemming and hawing from my husband the whole way there, it actually turned out to be a pretty fun experience ... The scientist in me was thoroughly entertained by all the little intricacies of the evening.

I've always known, but never really stopped to fully investigate (or appreciate), just how different my sisters and myself are. Of course, these differences are not relegated to appearance alone, and spill over into all other areas of our lives ... Likes and dislikes, personality, fashion sense, and, the most glaringly obvious ... Who we each chose as a significant other.

Summed up in a few words:

My husband: laid back, goofy, unassuming ...

Middle Sister's "friend" (she has yet to admit that he is her "boyfriend" even though he has been around for nearly a year): personable, established, an observer ...

Youngest Sister's boyfriend: spirited, competitive, immature ...

Even so, despite the differences in personality, age, occupation, and/or comfort level within my family, they way that these guys just fit together, as if they've known each other forever, was (and is) uncanny ...

While my Middle Sister or Youngest Sister's guy wouldn't be a match for me, and my husband would probably drive them crazy, it's easy to see what makes each relationship work. Maybe there is a balance of opposing attitudes. Maybe it's more like being "two peas in a pod." No matter what the case, a night of bowling with my family was like an experiment in watching a family grow. It was all too easy to see how newcomers are added to the mix ... Yet, somehow, they don't seem all that new.

It's like they have been there all along.

The High Road

For those that know me fairly well, there are two facets to my personality:

1. On one hand, I can be very friendly, loyal, and kindhearted.
2. On the other, I can be sarcastic, mean-spirited, and prone to gossip.

It's almost as if there's still a little bit of teenage girl trapped inside of me, willing to partake in drama just for the sake of doing so ... Even though, at twenty-six, I'm well aware that it's not becoming or attractive in any way.

While I always say I'm going to stop being so juvenile, I never really go around to making good on my own internal promises.

Until recently.

I feel like I'm growing up or something.

This past Sunday was my sister-in-law's baby shower. This meant, not only ogling over all the cute baby things, but also spending some time with my extended family members ... From both the in-law and the other-in-law sides of my family. Usually, I'd just steer clear of the other-in-laws for the sake of my own comfort and sanity, but something compelled me to be a little different this time around.

Just recently, I "friended" and have spoken to, my brother-in-law's older sister through the magic of Facebook. As it turns out, we have a few things in common ... One of them being the same confused feelings over being happy for the parents-to-be, yet sad that we are not the ones who are pregnant in the first place. On the surface, it's a great comfort to know that someone else feels exactly as I do ... It's also nice to think that these conversations might change things (for the better) as the family grows and expands ... And we inevitably spend more time together.

She's a nice girl.

While, one-on-one, it is so easy for me to declare the truth and steer clear of my gossiping ways, I fall into trouble when I'm in the presence of some of my husband's other relatives, namely, a group of his female cousins. Again, one-on-one, these girls are wonderful (beautiful inside and out), but put them together and they produce a virtual black hole that encompasses anyone or anything within a ten foot radius of themselves ... Positivity slips through and is gone forever. It's inside of this black hole that they let their inner teenagers loose to mock and tease the same other-in-laws that I am now growing to like.

They make comments like "big nose" or "buck-toothed." They complain about their fashion choices or any mannerisms that they may happen to witness. They make the conscious choice not to like these people, for no other reason than because they can.

On any other day I'd jump right in and laugh along with them ... But not this time.

For once, I took the high road.

Instead of adding to their conversations, adding fuel to their fire, I ignored them when they got negative. I left the table (with the guise of getting some food or refreshments) and went over to greet my other-in-laws and see what was happening on their end. In short, I said I'd make a change in my behavior ... And I actually followed through. I was the friendly, kindhearted person that I know I can be.

For once, I didn't fall in to the black hole. It was wonderful.

"Geez," I said at one point when the cousins were getting out of hand. "I'm glad that you like me, because I'd hate to hear what you say about me when I'm not around!"

While I'm still in possession of the two personality traits that I listed, I really do feel like I'm taking a different path from here on out. I may slip or struggle every now and then, but I can always look back at the feeling of joy from acting respectable. I know that, deep down, I'm not a bad person ... But if I produce a pattern of negative behaviors, how would a stranger know that?

It's time I start (consistently) acting my age.

As they say, actions speak louder than words ...

Young Love

Before you go any further, I'd just like to add the disclaimer that I don't consider myself to be musically inclined at all. In fact, besides some of my old standbys (that I could listen to over and over again), I probably have horrible taste in music. I believe that my musical tastes are so random because I either fall in love with a beat (Shake, shake, shake, shake, shake it!), or I ignore the music completely and just tune in to the lyrics.

Today, while driving home from work, the most annoyingly poppy, sugary-sweet song came on the radio. I recognized the gaspy voice immediately ... It was none other than David Archuleta (runner up of last season's American Idol). I was tempted to change the channel, but, was pulled in and ended up listening to the words of the song:

Do you ever think when you're all alone
All that we can be, where this thing can go?
Am I crazy or falling in love?
Is it really just another crush?

Do you catch a breath, when I look at you?
Are you holding back like the way I do?
'Cause I've tried and tried to walk away
But I know this crush ain't going away

Now, I'm already dreading the fact that I'm posting the lyrics of an American Idol-related song on this blog ... But something about the song resonated with me and transported me back to late October 1999.

Weird.

Reading the lyrics now, as when I heard them before, I think of my husband and the relationship we forged when we were teenagers.

I was a typical sixteen-year-old, crushing on just about every celebrity with blue eyes and blond hair (and dark-haired, dark eyed Matt Dillon, but that's for another day), so it was really strange being presented with a real dating opportunity in the form of my closest male friend. The thought made me queasy, at first, and my inexperience at dealing with such issues practically ruined things before they began.

It was so hard for me to imagine being anything other than friends, because we got along so well as it was. We could talk about anything together (and did, often spending hours per night on the phone). We found humor in everything ... I don't think another person on this Earth has made me laugh as much or as hard as he has (and does). Even so, we often had those "serious" conversations: What if we did start to date? What would that mean? How would it work? How would we act? Would we last beyond senior year of high school?

While things finally eased from friendship to romantic (and I use the term very loosely because the poor boy barely got to hold my hand) relationship quite easily, I think back now and can recognize all the little obstacles that we had to conquer along the way. There were tears, fights, misunderstandings (and not just of the superficial, teenage variety), but somehow we survived it and are still together almost ten years later. Whether I just came to my senses, or "crumbled and gave in," as he would say, things were just right for us, and still continue to be.

So, back to the song that sparked this entire train of thought ...

In all its teenage glory, it speaks to me as if I'm still that teenager from 1999. I totally feel those lyrics ... I was that person. I asked those questions. I agonized as any typical teenager would and emerged from the situation a better, stronger person.

Things actually worked out.

This is one crush that isn't going anywhere. :)

Fruits of Fall

This weekend, my husband and I spent the afternoon at a local apple orchard for its annual "Johnny Appleseed Festival." Both of us have always loved the fall season and everything that it brings, so little "excuses" to go out (like this festival) are a welcome thing for self-proclaimed homebodies like us.

It didn't hurt that it was an absolutely gorgeous day ... Blue sky, bright sun, crisp autumn air ... All the things that fall should be.

Anyway, as we spent our time wandering through the outdoor crafting booths, sampling food, and picking some fresh apples (like the ones shown above ... yum!) to take home, we couldn't help but muse over how nice it would be to do something like this "as a family" one day.

Yes, we are our own little family (complete with two, lazy cats), but it was all too easy to smile and nudge each other as we watched the little glimpses of our would-be future unfold around us ... Young couples pushing strollers, fathers escorting their pig-tailed daughters through hay mazes, mothers chasing their wobbly-legged toddlers as they took off down the hillside ...

I don't think I'm the only one thinking about babies now.

(I knew he'd come around!)

Confirmation

I've been teaching at my school for one whole week.

The house is a mess. The bathroom sink is littered with random toiletries, toothpaste crust, hair from my head and from our cats, and is in dire need of a good scrubbing. Dirty clothes are stacking up, spilling over the sides of our upstairs laundry basket like something out of "The Blob." The master bedroom is a mess, the bed is often unmade and clean clothes are stacked at the foot of the bed and on top of our respective dressers (why they are not inside the drawers, I couldn't tell you). The living room is disheveled and the daily newspapers are creating quite a pile on our coffee table. Place mats from our dinners in front of the TV haven't been put away. The dining room table is unusable. There is more crap on there than I'd like to reveal. The kitchen (like the bathroom) is in need of a good scrubbing. There are dirty dishes in the sink, and clean ones on the counter. The white tile floor isn't so white anymore ...

I am incredibly tired. I find myself falling into bed at 9:00 pm and still not getting enough sleep. Waking at 6:15 is nothing like I have ever done (consistently) before. I can barely make it into the shower and the cold water still doesn't jostle my sleepy mind into alertness. God help me when I begin bearing children!

Quality time with my husband has become limited. I am preoccupied with getting things done for school, and he has started his next semester of course work at the community college. He jokes that we are mere "roomies" instead of a real married couple. I'm embarrassed that there's a lot of truth to that.

The point of all this?

Despite the fact that my world is just bursting at the seams ... In need of some real attention ... I am a million times happier, and more at ease today, than I was last year at this time.

Thank God for small miracles!

(And, hang in there, Love, we have a long weekend coming up!)

The Newbie

Thankfully, I've never had the burden of being the "new kid" at school.

No matter what school I attended ... Be it elementary/middle school, high school, or college ... I enrolled and then completed each span of learning without incidence. I was never transferred or otherwise removed from the people that I had grown accustomed to being with. I wasn't plopped into an entirely new educational situation, not knowing a soul, while everyone else had had the time to develop lasting bonds of friendship before I'd arrived.

I have taken enough jobs in my life to know that there is always an entry period of learning the ropes and making acquaintances, yet it seems so much stronger in a school setting. As my first week at my new school comes to a close, I am trying to shake off that "new kid" feeling. About half of the teachers at the school were around for its inaugural year (last year) and have obviously built bonds through their shared struggles and triumphs. The rest of the faculty, the other "new kids," came on weeks, if not months ago. I was tacked on to the roster just this week, the newest new employee of all, and it's very hard to shake that nagging feeling that I'm the odd man (woman) out.

Am I being annoying?

Am I asking too many questions?

Am I trying too hard and talking too much?

Am I coming across as stiff or awkward? Standoffish or stuck-up?

While I am, technically, in high school again, I feel like I'm back in high school.

Deep down, I'm the same awkward girl who could blend in with the athletes, the drama geeks, the honor students, and even (surprisingly, at times) the cool kids ... If I could do it as a freckled, brace-faced, glasses-wearing late bloomer, I can do it now (as a freckled, straight-toothed, contact-wearing twenty-something).

I guess the real issue is going to be getting the students to like me ...

Sisters

If you would have told me, five years ago, that I'd be spending days on end with only my sisters, I would have either rolled my eyes or laughed in your face.

I'm the oldest of three, each of us separated by about three years. While that distance in age is not really all that large, eventually it was just enough to keep us from completely getting along and truly being "friends" (or even just cordial in some instances). Up until becoming teenagers, we really didn't have any problems. We peacefully shared a single bedroom for many years, coexisted in a house with only one bathroom, wore each others clothes and shoes, had "sleepovers" together, and enjoyed many other sisterly things ... But once Middle Sister hit about sixteen (making me nineteen), the fireworks began to fly!

I guess I'd have to step back, here, and explain that I was definitely a major "goody-two-shoes." As the oldest, I did everything I had or was expected to do ... I set the example. I obeyed rules and curfews without question and basically kept order in the house by calling out my sisters if they were doing (or had done) anything wrong. This, obviously, built up some animosity ... Especially between Middle Sister and myself, and really came to a head once she had become established in high school and I had gone away to college. We just didn't get along ... At all. I hated her friends and how she acted when they were together and she hated me. She resented that I ratted her out when she had an unchaperoned summer party at my parents' house and couldn't understand why I didn't "trust her" after that event. She said that I "thought the worst of her" and that I was "out to get her." Neither of these things are true, but I can certainly see where she'd arrive at this conclusion.

Things were awkward for many years, but around 2005 they started to get better. I was done with college, preparing to get married, and she was there for me, as a bridesmaid. Youngest Sister was also part of the wedding, and, although she was still in high school, had reached a level of maturity that you don't usually expect from the person you always considered to be "the baby."

Maybe it's true that you need to move out of the house and that that little bit of distance makes things so much clearer. Maybe time really does heal all wounds, and it just takes a couple of years to end up at the same point in life.

Either way, I just spent the past three days with and/or around my sisters, and we, surprisingly, had a great time!

• Tuesday: Middle Sister and I broke in our new golf clubs at the driving range, and picked out towels, bath mats, and a shower curtain for the bathroom at her "new place."
• Wednesday: All three of us went to the beach and laid out for a couple of hours, and talked, joked, and gossipped like real sisters should do.
• Thursday: Was Youngest Sister's 20th birthday, so we spent the evening celebrating at a family cook-out. The three of us got the party rolling by forming our own three-piece "band" and rocking out on Youngest's new Play Station.

Like I said to start out this post, if you would have told me, five years ago, that I'd be spending days on end with only my sisters, I would have either rolled my eyes or laughed in your face.

This is one instance where I'm happy to be proven wrong.

Solitude

Having been home, alone, on my summer break for over a month I'm starting to have some mixed feelings. During one of the many hours spent on the computer, I was able to find a quote that seems to sum everything up perfectly:

"There are days when solitude is a heady wine that intoxicates you with freedom, others when it is a bitter tonic, and still others when it is a poison that makes you beat your head against the wall."

~ Sidonie Gabrielle

It seems to me, that I'm currently locked in the second type of solitude: the bitter tonic. I'm still grateful to be home, relaxing, instead of rounding up a bunch of pre-teens or teenagers for a lesson about eukaryotic cells, yet, there is something that is increasingly unsatisfying.

I've always been a productive person for as long as I can remember. As a child, my summers were spent divided between swimming lessons, softball, Kool-Aid stands, and organized neighborhood games of kick-the-can ... There was always something going on, and I was always at the head of it. As a teenager and on through my college years, I spent my summers not only working and saving for the future, but also catching up on the latest novel and spending time with my friends and eventually my newly acquired boyfriend. So, as an "adult" just out of college, landing a position in a research facility was wonderful for me ... I could multi-task to my heart's content and fill my days up as I pleased. Tissue culture, assays of all kinds, documenting results and preparing presentations to present them, all kept me adequately busy. Even during my short span as a teacher, there were always lessons to write or worksheets to create. There was always something that I could be doing, and, right now, that's just not the case.

Sure, sure ... I could clean or dust or vacuum or weed the garden, but you get to a point where the things you have to do become so monotonous that you could easily progress to the "poison" type of solitude. I am a homebody and I love a clean house as much as the next person, but if my days were spent constantly cleaning and tidying up, I'd want to be anywhere but at home ... And that prospect scares me a little bit. I don't want to become the type of person that has to be out and doing something in order to be happy. I don't want to forget about the little things, the quiet moments, the simple things in life.

It certainly doesn't help my situation that I'm still stuck in a limbo in terms of work next year. I've already quit my former teaching job at the private school, making a huge leap of faith and hoping to make the leap to high school, as well. Despite the fact that my choice was the farthest thing from my usual rational, logical approach, I still feel good about it. However, I've yet to land that new high school position, and it's starting to wear on me, and, more disconcertingly, those around me. My husband (the optimist, remember? Ha!) is very concerned about what is going to happen in the fall. I think he has visions of me loafing around on the couch, getting fat from ice-cream and boredom, and sponging away what's hidden inside our savings account until there is nothing left. Little does he know, that vision scares me as much as it does him, but for different reasons ... And not the getting fat stuff!

If I'm stuck at home throughout the fall, I will most definitely go crazy and start "beating my head against the wall." I've already run out of things to do right now, God only knows what I'll do then. At this point, all I can do is keep my head up and keep focused on the job market. By now, any last-minute contracts will have been either returned or declined, so there should be one last surge of available positions before school starts. At least that's what I'm telling myself.

Too much of a good thing, they say. And, boy, they weren't kidding ...

I just hope that I can bring things back to "normal" so that I'll, once again, fully enjoy the peace and quiet that solitude can bring.

Waiting the Storm

There's a storm rolling in tonight ...

The air is changing. It smells different. It feels different.

The dark sky spontaneously lights up with natural fireworks. A quick flash! and then nothing. A moment of calm. A moment to breathe before the next display.

It's not raining yet, but it's coming. I know it's coming. The familiar tapping on the windows and rooftop is on its way. The soothing pitter-patter as the water falls back to earth will be heard before long.

There is a sense of excitement... Electricity. An anxious pause as the sky prepares to open up as it moves along its path, loud and in control.

In the sheer force and power of the storm there is a real chance for destruction ... But when it's all over, there is the opportunity for rebirth. The grass is greener, the flowers invigorated, the earth washed clean.

I feel as if I'm caught in my own storm ... All of the elements are in place around me, and I'm waiting. Just waiting for the next phase to begin. Waiting for the rain to fall and the thunder to roll. Waiting for the storm to pass so that I can move on, fresh and new, and ready to conquer the thing that lies ahead.

Yes, there's a storm rolling in tonight. I think I'll sit on the front porch and watch it.

The Gully and the Bridge

After arriving home from work today, my husband had an interesting analogy for me. He is currently back at school, trying to find a new career, and is (needless to say) a little nervous and apprehensive as to how things are going to work out.

He's not what you would call a risk-taker ...

"Pretend that this is a map, a very old map," he began, holding up one of his horror movie magazines for me to look at. "The winding road starts here, way down at this corner, and eventually progresses across the page ... Until it gets to the middle. Right here."

My gaze followed his finger to a picture of a creepy-looking guy holding a shotgun.

"Right here, is where there's a gully. It's big and wide and there is supposed to be a bridge that crosses it ..."

"But it's an old map," I interrupted. "And it might not be there?"

"Exactly. Who knows if it's still there? I could have driven all this way. Gone through all of these different obstacles to get there and ... Nothing. I'm stuck with no way to get across."

"Or, even worse," I replied with a smirk, egging him on, "it's still there, but it's old and rickety ..."

"Yeah," he nodded. "And then when the car is about halfway across, the bridge will fall and I'll die."

He's quite the optimist, as you can see ... I don't doubt that he's got a huge gully in front of him. Heck, I stood at the edge of a similar gully about a year ago. All I can say is that, hopefully, the bridge is still there (and it's strong enough to carry him across).

For Sale

Interviews are all about selling yourself, and, apparently, I'm not doing a very good job.

I've been on just under ten interviews so far this year. Thinking back to the five I went on last year, as I searched for my first teaching position, this general increase is, in itself, an improvement. At least, now, employers are seeing my qualifications and history and actually giving me a chance to come in and talk with them. If only these "talks" proved to be more beneficial. If only they would lead to a job offer.

I can't begin to describe how sick I am of the tired: "We appreciate your time and really enjoyed meeting you."

Or the: "It was a very difficult decision but..."

(Always a but, isn't there?)

Or the: "We hope you'll think about being on our substitute list this fall."

It reminds me of the "always a bridesmaid, never a bride" stuff. I'm good enough to be a part time substitute in their school district, but I'm somehow unworthy of getting a stable, full time position. They like me and see some potential there, they just don't want to hire me for fear that my inexperience will do me, and their district, in. I just wish someone (other than a Catholic or urban school that has nothing to lose) would take a look at my unique science background, my success of just finishing this school year with a smile on my face, and my desire to learn and continually improve myself and my teaching abilities ... And hire me!

I know that I can do a good job if given the chance.

I guess that I'm not letting them know it, as well. ;(

New Eyes

I just picked up a new pair of eyeglasses yesterday.

My vision is pretty terrible, so this routine of seeing the doctor and then dropping over $300 on some eye wear has been a part of my life for many years. I've always loved the idea of "updating" my look with some new frames and picking out something completely different from my previous pair. This year, I actually made the switch from wire frames, to more nerd-worthy plastic ones. They are thicker and more noticeable, but cute, and are very comfortable because they don't have those annoying little plastic pads that dig into your nose and trap sweat, dirt, and other nasty particles.

Anyway, being that these glasses are new, the prescription is also stronger. Much stronger. I've always enjoyed and dreaded that first moment when the store clerk gives you your new purchase and you switch the old frames for the new. Anyone who needs vision correction knows what I'm talking about ... That moment where you put the new pair of glasses on and suddenly feel all cross-eyed and discombobulated, yet you can see 100% clearly for the first time in who-knows-how-long. It is probably one of the strangest feelings that I've experienced. It's like being drunk and dizzy, but not quite ... Completely tuned in to every little detail ahead of you, yet somehow aware of the increased blurriness in your periphery.

If only life was this way ...

Wouldn't it be wonderful to just put on a new set of eyes and see things clearly after a lifetime of haze?

Wouldn't it be wonderful to be eerily aware of everything and yet completely clueless to the meaning of it all ... All at the same time?

What if you could truly erase past judgements and make "first impressions" all over again?

What if the wrongs of the past could just fade into the background while the future became ever clearer?

The world would be a much better place if we all just got a new pair of glasses!

For a Friend ...

My husband and I watched "Evan Almighty" a couple weeks ago.

Although it is a light-hearted and funny film throughout, I was struck by a particular line of dialogue given by Morgan Freeman (or, God, in this case) ... So much so that I was moved to tears and promptly ridiculed.

The line was thus:

Let me ask you something. If someone prays for patience, you think God gives them patience? Or does he give them the opportunity to be patient? If he prayed for courage, does God give him courage? Or does he give him opportunities to be courageous? If someone prayed for their family to be closer, do you think God zaps them with warm fuzzy feelings, or does he give them opportunities to love each other?

It amazes me how a Hollywood movie can actually hold such wisdom. In my opinion, whoever was responsible for this script (at least this section of it) hit it right on the head. Our prayers aren't answered outwordly by just giving us the thing that we need or want most ... They are answered when we actively go out and work toward whatever it is we asked for, when we find something inside of ourselves that we didn't realize was there before.

So goes the saying:

You need to be the change you wish to see in the world.

I think the same thing applies. The world can be an awfully dismal and depressing place if we look at it full on. There is war, poverty, death, disaster ... But if we take a moment to pull ourselves away, to see things from our singular perspective, and do small acts of kindness, we can turn the tide. It's all about the opportunities to do great things.

And, for the friend I'm thinking of as I write this entry, you have (and will continue to have) so many opportunities to do right for the world. Just take it one small step at a time and I know that you will not waste any of them. :)

Sparrows

I was driving home with my husband on Sunday and, along the way, we came across two little sparrows in the road. As we passed, I realized that one of them was dead, its little body smushed into the blacktop. The second sparrow, however, was very much alive, flapping wildly but staying put by its fallen friend. At the last possible moment, right before our car drove past, the living sparrow flew away to a tree at the side of the road.

Turning completely around to check out the scene (luckily, my husband was driving) I watched the sparrow swoop back again, resuming it's position with the other bird once our car had cleared the spot.

Seeing this sight, this sad, little bird futilely flying back and forth from tree to road, tugged at my heart a little bit.

"Oh no," my husband muttered, noticing me notice the birds. "This is going to bother you all day now ... Just don't think about it."

But how could I do anything but?

That tiny little bird was going to be busy all day long, flying and swooping, flying and swooping, thinking in its tiny, little brain that its friend would eventually fly away too. Now, some might wave this situation off as just a dumb animal, doing what animals do ...

I saw something else:

How often in life do we do exactly the same thing, and hold on to something that obviously needs to be released?

I know, in my life, there are many things that I just need to forget and move away from, yet somehow, I can't bring myself to do it. Rather than "letting go," I cling on for dear life, avoiding good sense at all costs, and hoping that somehow, someway, the thing I need to forget will prove useful. Whether this "thing" is a past relationship that fizzled, an object, a distant memory, or a feeling does not matter. It really makes no difference.

If I do not let go, I will be like that sad, little sparrow, wasting its time swooping back and forth for nothing.

Maybe it's time to let go.

Rejection

I interviewed at a local career center for a biotechnology instructor position (which would have, I think, been the perfect blend of science and teaching) at the end of last month. I feel that I did pretty well. I was smiley and enthusiastic, didn't fall into the "limp handshake" trap, maintained good, yet not creepy, eye contact, highlighted all the relevant biotech experience (three years of stem cell research) that I have had, and basically tried to be more likable and bubbly than I think I truly am. It went positively ... At least from what I could gather... But I still ended up feeling like a big cheeseball when it was all over. I mean, I was technically myself in that conference room, but I don't particularly enjoy spending an entire hour just rambling on an on about what I can do and/or would do in various situations to four complete strangers.

Even though I came out of it feeling confident, I still felt that the decision to recommend me to the Superintendent of the school district could go either way. Either they'd like my attitude and previous lab experience, have faith in me and my abilities, and take a chance on the fact that I haven't been teaching very long (at middle school, instead of high school, level) ... Or they'd pass.

Turns out, they decided to pass.

Now, I hate being rejected as much as the next person. It's not a fun feeling, even if you do get to hear the news privately, over a recorded message, instead of at a face-to-face meeting with your interviewer. Quite obviously, and quite simply, it sucks. I really (truly) felt that that job would have been perfect for me and my abilities thus far ... Yet, somehow, I'm very much okay with the news at the same time.

I guess I've always been of the mindset that "everything happens for a reason" (whether this is attributed to my Catholic upbringing, or just a mantra that I have adopted over time, is something to grapple with some other day). Maybe, by not getting this job, something better will come along and I will be happy that I didn't get it. Only time will tell, but, for now, I'm hopeful that there's more to this story that I am unaware of at this point. I mean, my current teaching position caused me so much grief that I made myself physically sick and nearly quit after the second week of school ... But I stuck it out, I'm just about finished with the year, and I do believe that I'm still there for some strange and wonderful reason. Who, knows? Maybe one student will find the cure for cancer because I interested him/her in science and dedicate his/her Nobel Prize to me.

It would be nice.

So, yeah, rejection sucks and I'm not too excited to spread this news to all of those individuals that have been pulling for me, but I'm okay with it ... And if you see any awesome high school science positions in the Northeast Ohio area, please let me know.