I have been so tired this week that I've been taking naps every day when I get home. I'm sure my lack of energy has something to do with the gray cloud-filled sky and rain.
I was listening to the radio on my way home from work Tuesday and happened to stop on a station where a woman was talking about essential oils. It's nothing I would normally listen to, but her voice was so calm and soothing that I didn't change the station. She was talking about connecting with nature through different essential oils. One thing she said really struck me. When a person isn't showing compassion for the world around them it's because they aren't in touch with their own feelings. As I drove, I thought about her words, and the fast paced life that surrounds me here. When I first moved here, seeing a homeless person always brought me to tears and moved me to help however I could. Now, when I see them taking up space at the park I like to take Erin too, I feel bad, but part of me considers them a nuisance. I'm not sure how I made the leap from feeling true compassion for these people to wishing that they would find another park to inhabit so that I could take my daughter to the park without being bombarded with requests for money. Somehow, I disconnected from myself and the world around me. It didn't happen over night, but gradually part of me has become numb. Maybe it's because I am always tired. Living here takes so much out of a person. Maybe the last year of working my job, working for David, and taking care of Erin pretty much by myself as taken it's toll on me. Maybe it's the people who call me only because the need something. Whatever it is, I'm ready to reconnect with myself and the world around me. I can't live without feeling.

I started off the day reading this post at RLP and from there read the various articles listed. By the end I was feeling less than humane for my recent comment at Seriously Kristen. In my life there is always a logical side to things and an emotional side. These two rarely join together to form a reasonable solution. Rather, I'm usually on one side or the other and often times I switch between the to depending on which is giving the stronger pull. While reading the horror stories of those traversing such inhabitable terrain to come to this country, I can't help but want to open the flood gates and let them all in. My rational mind tells me that such a utopian idea would never work, but still I think there should be some way for a family, desperate to find a better life, to do so without the chance of dying in the desert. I was relieved when I read this proposal for Guest Worker Permits It seems to provide a way for those who are willing to come to this country and work for a better life to do so as well as offering them citizenship if they desire it. From the media standpoint, I have only heard the discussion of making illegal entry into the country a felony. While it does propose that, the benefits it offers to immigrants seem reasonable and fair. It offers them much more protection than the current laws provide and protects all American workers by forcing companies to give fair wages to everyone. It seems to me like a fair deal all around. What are your thoughts?

"We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us." E.M. Forster

It's amazing to me that, despite all of my planning, so much of my life is made up of the unexpected. Sometimes it's hard for me to let go of all the things I thought my life should be and take hold of what it is. I love how my life has unfolded, yet I hold a saddness over the life that could have been. I imagine that life sometimes. I erase segmets of my journey and fill them with all the plans I made before my life took on a life of it's own. I can not regret any of the steps I have taken because the sum of those steps has led me here, but I must grieve the steps I did not take.

This is my atempt at a foundword poem. Edith and I made a pact to have one done by today, but I missed the deadline. We are going to share them tomorrow. It as a fun exercise. It helped me to think outside the box and to not edit my thoughts before they come out.

Our weekend was great. We traveled to my sister-in-law's house to celebrate David's birthday. David's dad, and mom were there along with some friends of the family. We went to an Indian casino which was fun. Neither of us are big gamblers so we just stayed at the nickle slots most of the time. I only spent around $15 and won $40. David didn't win anything. In fact, he lost at the black jack tables. All in all, we lost $40. His sister lost substantialy more than that. She was planning a trip to Vegas, but has decided it probably isn't the place for her. So, the two of us are looking into a four day cruise to Mexico. Hopefully I can save up the $ to go. I think she and I both could use a little time away.

In search of the perfecty hairstyle..

I've had the same hairstlye for about two years now. It's a cute little flip out number that works well for me. I want a change but nothing too drastic. I really love this sporty hairstyle on the fabulous Kirsten Storms.

I have an appointment with my stylist on Tuesday at 3:30. I can't wait. I wanted to get in tomorrow morning, but she's all booked up.

Faith Filled Holes

Faith: Belief that does not rest on logical proof or material evidence.

Why do we spend so much time trying to prove or disprove that which can't be proven? I love that Seeker made us think with his posts. I love that he sparked a fire in each of us to search, but even if we could prove it one way or the other, it wouldn't matter. Faith is not built on anything material.
Seeker, I know your point was not to prove or disprove. You were simply trying to point out that neither could be done and that we should all admit that. The reality that there are holes in Christianity seems to scare some people. They try to patch them up. I used to be one of those people, but I'm going to try not to be. Whatever holes may exists are there for a reason that is far beyond my knowledge or understanding.

Foundwords I think this is an awesome idea for poetry! I'm going to try my hand at it when I get a free minute. I'm also going tomorrow to get this book. I think it looks really neato and I love to practice poetry though I think I've only written one almost okay poem in my short life.
Finally, I have a picture of the yellow room which I still love! I'm saving up the energy to paint the dining room and kitchen red. They are both open to the living room so it will be a nice contrast with the yellow agains the red, or at least that is what I'm hoping.

I'm so thankful to Becky for posting this article about introverts on her blog. I'm probably 90% introverted. I've always thought there was something wrong with me because I dread going to social events or places where I know there will be a large crowd. I'm usually the last to arrive and the first to leave. My motto is always "get in and get out as fast as possible". I've always labeled my aversion to these events as "social anxiety disorder", but that term never seemed to fit because I don't freak out or anything, I just don't like going. I'd rather be home with a few friends or by myself. I have canceled so many engagements just because I'd rather not go to that place and be there with all those people and have to repeat my name a gazillion times and explain how I'm there because I know this person who knows this person. BLAH BLAH BLAH. Anyway, I'm just glad I read the article and glad that I'm not just anti-social, and I don't have a disorder. I'm just me.

Life is just like this..

David is out of school for the first week since Christmas. We have an entire week of evenings to spend together and I used up the first one sleeping on the couch while he watched television.

I've been looking at homes to buy near my father. Why do I do that to myself? I want so badly to be there now. I know it won't happen for several more months; months that could drag themselves into a year. A year isn't long to wait unless you've already waited through six of them.
There are moments when a year doesn't seem like enough time to finish all that is required to move a life across the country. There are other times when I think about throwing our stuff into a few bags and driving towards the sunrise without ever looking back.
I love California, there are things about it that I will miss. There are people I will miss, but I'm ready to put down roots. I'm ready to be close to my family.

I downloaded the True You! Workbook from Campaign For Real Beauty. It's an activity book for mothers and daughters all about growing up, the changes that happen to our bodies, and how we feel about it all. She and I started working on it last night. After only two pages, my heart was heavy. The first section has several true/false questions. I encouraged her to fill them out honestly because there were no right or wrong answers. She believed that her family plays a big role in how she feels about herself, but also answered "true" to the media playing a big role in how she thinks she should look, that she was not happy with her body, and that she would change parts of her body if she could. I went into it expecting the responces, but it still hurt to see her fill in the little circle with a "T".
The second page was all about her. It had the basics such as name, age, grade. The second section was fill in the blank with the first one being "My friends tell me I look like..." She put "I'm ugly". The next was "I think I look..". She put "Bad". When it came to the section about what I think about her it was all possitive. She put things like, beautiful, smart, funny, creative, silly. Those are all things I say to her every day, but those aren't the things that are sticking with her. I knew that she felt this way about herself, but seeing her write it down made me so sad.
I heard a story once about self esteme being like a coins in a jar. Every day parents try to fill up the coin jar by saying nice things, encouraging their child, cheering them on, and showing them how much they are loved. In the story, as soon as the child gets on the school bus his coins start being taken away by kids who say mean things and adults who aren't invested in making sure the child has a bank full of self esteme. The point of the story was making sure that your child has enough self esteme in the jar to make it through the day and still have some left in the jar. My question is "How?" It seems that the negative voices are so much louder than my own. Her self esteme bank seems to always be in the red. I hope that going through this book together will help. I hope it will open the lines of communication so she feels safe to talk about things that are going on in her life. I hope that she will begin to she how special she is. I hope that eventually I can undo all the hurt that has been done.