I went to the Dr. yesterday and found out that I was not the 5'4" that I have, for the past decade and a half, reluctantly resigned myself to accept....
I am officially 5'3" and 1/4th of an inch.
I am not even the average height of a woman.
I feel like I should at least be 5'8" but maybe that's my ego speaking on my behalf.
Right now, I am ok with turning 30 in June but give it four more months and get back to me about it. If I am over-reacting about the loss of 3/4ths of an inch wait until the idea of another decade lost sinks in. However, now that I am shorter, it's got to sink a little lower. =-(
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Friday, December 16, 2005
Addictions
Cat invited me to attend her Christmas party again this year. Christmas is one of the worst times of the year to be single. As she explained, it's easier to bring your sister to an event than another single friend. . . limits the confusion.
As soon as we walk in I recognize a face. A woman with blonde hair, her face is so familiar. I tell Cat, "Hey, I know that lady from somewhere." I see people I recognize everywhere I go. But I'm getting terrible at placing the faces, maybe too many to remember. To narrow it down, I go through a series of images - I have to determine if they are dressed in the same kind of way I normally see them. This woman was not, I knew she was dressed up more than normal, wearing make-up tonight. I try to imagine them in a role. This woman exuded, from my recollection, authority...some kind of power. "I know that I know her from somewhere!"
Cat, in a joking tone said, "Maybe she works at Starbucks." And there it was.....absolutely spot on - suddenly there was white shirt, green apron....and the power.
-Jlt
As soon as we walk in I recognize a face. A woman with blonde hair, her face is so familiar. I tell Cat, "Hey, I know that lady from somewhere." I see people I recognize everywhere I go. But I'm getting terrible at placing the faces, maybe too many to remember. To narrow it down, I go through a series of images - I have to determine if they are dressed in the same kind of way I normally see them. This woman was not, I knew she was dressed up more than normal, wearing make-up tonight. I try to imagine them in a role. This woman exuded, from my recollection, authority...some kind of power. "I know that I know her from somewhere!"
Cat, in a joking tone said, "Maybe she works at Starbucks." And there it was.....absolutely spot on - suddenly there was white shirt, green apron....and the power.
-Jlt
Thursday, October 13, 2005
Dangerous to be alive: part II
I decided to go home for lunch today. I am financially strapped this month and cannot eat out - beside I already indulged myself in Starbucks for breakfast. Lunch is an important part of my day. I work with criminals all morning and all afternoon and lunch is my break to get away from the drama. Already today I've had a grown man cry, as his mother is in a cancer-induced coma and a young girl explain she will be "taking care of her pregnancy" and it's not a big deal - she's done it before. This is my hour in the middle of the day to decompress and regroup.
It's a nice day out and I'm in my own world - contemplating my bank account balance and how I will afford those shoes I want and a haircut this month. There is a myriad of ways to walk home and I try to shake it up every now and then. No matter the route I never cross Cascade at Platte on the south crosswalk. Drivers in the turn lane on Platte never pay attention to pedestrians and it is very dangerous - I've almost been hit and have seen a few close calls. As a pedestrian, knowing my right of way, I can become stubborn, "it is my turn to walk and you must yield to me." It isn't always the safest stance to take, as they're shielded by steel and me, only cotton and polyester. So, as fitting, today, I crossed Cascade at Platte on the north crosswalk - a much wiser choice - just as I stepped onto the sidewalk I hear a loud, "Hey! Watch out!" I look to see what is going on and watch as a bicyclist gets hit by a car, and lands on the hood. He appears to be moving. I call 911 and another witness pulls over and checks the bicyclist (everyone else, mind you, doesn't even slow down - busy lives to live and intersections to plow through). The bicyclist is okay - looks like a transient and explains he thinks he'll just go. The man driving the car is rattled but the two shake hands...no hard feelings. Police, fire engine, ambulance.... (alas, no single men who discover I am the one they've been waiting for)it is quite the scene. I fill out my witness statement and discover my own witness incompetencies and then that's it. I can go. Bicyclist will live. Other witness will go home and have a drink. Driver will not go back to work and call it a day.
I did make it home - I had just enough time to eat a peanut butter sandwhich and some cheez-ums, then back across the intersection, paying more attention to the cross-walk this time.
So much for my break from drama - so much for the regroup.
Folks - look both ways, it's dangerous to be alive.
-J
It's a nice day out and I'm in my own world - contemplating my bank account balance and how I will afford those shoes I want and a haircut this month. There is a myriad of ways to walk home and I try to shake it up every now and then. No matter the route I never cross Cascade at Platte on the south crosswalk. Drivers in the turn lane on Platte never pay attention to pedestrians and it is very dangerous - I've almost been hit and have seen a few close calls. As a pedestrian, knowing my right of way, I can become stubborn, "it is my turn to walk and you must yield to me." It isn't always the safest stance to take, as they're shielded by steel and me, only cotton and polyester. So, as fitting, today, I crossed Cascade at Platte on the north crosswalk - a much wiser choice - just as I stepped onto the sidewalk I hear a loud, "Hey! Watch out!" I look to see what is going on and watch as a bicyclist gets hit by a car, and lands on the hood. He appears to be moving. I call 911 and another witness pulls over and checks the bicyclist (everyone else, mind you, doesn't even slow down - busy lives to live and intersections to plow through). The bicyclist is okay - looks like a transient and explains he thinks he'll just go. The man driving the car is rattled but the two shake hands...no hard feelings. Police, fire engine, ambulance.... (alas, no single men who discover I am the one they've been waiting for)it is quite the scene. I fill out my witness statement and discover my own witness incompetencies and then that's it. I can go. Bicyclist will live. Other witness will go home and have a drink. Driver will not go back to work and call it a day.
I did make it home - I had just enough time to eat a peanut butter sandwhich and some cheez-ums, then back across the intersection, paying more attention to the cross-walk this time.
So much for my break from drama - so much for the regroup.
Folks - look both ways, it's dangerous to be alive.
-J
Dangerous to be alive: part I
I'm clumsy, have been most of my life - but that last few months have been dangerous. I'm always tripping, and unfortunately, sometimes falling. I can recount some of the more tragic times like they were yesterday. Biffed it outside of my hotel in Paris in front a group of Japanese tourists; biffed it at a busy intersection in my go-go boots, where a man was kind enough to point out I may have dropped something; biffed it going up the parking garage stairs in the evening, so that anyone looking would have seen it occur in spot-light form through the large window with stairwell lighting.
It happended again on Friday, hours before the single's retreat, and minutes after establishing a payment plan for my physical therapy (after my nasty Alaska fall-PT told me chronic ankle sprainers often suffer from weak ankles the rest of their lives)...I was walking home from work, for lunch. I made it all the way downtown, across the street, across the lawn of the park and was so close to my door and then the next thing I know: concrete - in my face! Somehow my left foot slipped in my shoe and I biffed it. All the contents of my bag were on the ground around me - papers, pens, 6 lip glosses (none of which is quite the right color) and even some unmentionables. I mumbled a curse word and then began the struggle of getting up, discretely checking to see if anyone saw my tummble. My left knee instantly hurt and sure enough I skinned it up pretty bad - I hobbled back to work and then down to the courthouse and then back to work - then the pain really started to set in - all stiff and tender.
How does this happen? Why doesn't it happen more often? How is everyone walking around?
My injury slowed me down on the retreat, couldn't go on the hike, slept lightly, as with each turn in the night, shooting pain. I hate being the one hobbling around, slower and needing sympathy.
Things are better with the knee now, still a little tender on stairs and a nasty scab, but everthing is working.
Yesterday I went home (for lunch again - this time driving) I changed shoes, because the pair I was wearing had given me a blister on both feet. At the end of my lunch, and with a new pair of shoes, I headed back to my car with a letter I had received in hand, I began to skim my grandfather's illegible handwriting and wouldn't you know - down I go.
I'm looking at complete disability by 30. Do you think they sell walkers in a stylish black, or fall-look tweed?
-J
It happended again on Friday, hours before the single's retreat, and minutes after establishing a payment plan for my physical therapy (after my nasty Alaska fall-PT told me chronic ankle sprainers often suffer from weak ankles the rest of their lives)...I was walking home from work, for lunch. I made it all the way downtown, across the street, across the lawn of the park and was so close to my door and then the next thing I know: concrete - in my face! Somehow my left foot slipped in my shoe and I biffed it. All the contents of my bag were on the ground around me - papers, pens, 6 lip glosses (none of which is quite the right color) and even some unmentionables. I mumbled a curse word and then began the struggle of getting up, discretely checking to see if anyone saw my tummble. My left knee instantly hurt and sure enough I skinned it up pretty bad - I hobbled back to work and then down to the courthouse and then back to work - then the pain really started to set in - all stiff and tender.
How does this happen? Why doesn't it happen more often? How is everyone walking around?
My injury slowed me down on the retreat, couldn't go on the hike, slept lightly, as with each turn in the night, shooting pain. I hate being the one hobbling around, slower and needing sympathy.
Things are better with the knee now, still a little tender on stairs and a nasty scab, but everthing is working.
Yesterday I went home (for lunch again - this time driving) I changed shoes, because the pair I was wearing had given me a blister on both feet. At the end of my lunch, and with a new pair of shoes, I headed back to my car with a letter I had received in hand, I began to skim my grandfather's illegible handwriting and wouldn't you know - down I go.
I'm looking at complete disability by 30. Do you think they sell walkers in a stylish black, or fall-look tweed?
-J
Thursday, October 06, 2005
Singles Retreat
This weekend, J and I are heading up to Crooked Creek for our communities' singles retreat. I've been on the committee for the past couple of months and it seems a little strange to see it take a life of its own and work it way to the end. The weather doesn't look all that promising BUT even if that doesn't lean our way, we have plenty to keep ourselves occupied. That place is great!! One of my favorites will be to sit in the "TRINITY" shaped hot tub. YIKES.
Our speaker will be talking about the Immutability of God. Basically about His Unchanging Nature. It promises to be both a learning and humbling time for me at least. How many times is my clock not lined up with God's and I keep moving to a pace that doesn't recognized that God is outside of TIME and nothing I do will ever change the path and plan He has for me? Like I said, humbling.
This also means a rap up of some fun times with the rest of the retreat committee.
I still need to wash my clothes, pack and plan for a quick getaway after work tomorrow. =-( I think I am becoming a little overwhelmed.
WHOOHOOO!!! We have received our first spam comments. This is very exciting. We finally got the telemarketer to stop calling and now we are on our next adventure.
CA just started subbing for the local school district up in Anchorage. YOU have to tell us some of the better stories!! Hope you are doing well, we got your message and I am hoping to be able to call you once this retreat stuff is OVER.
Our speaker will be talking about the Immutability of God. Basically about His Unchanging Nature. It promises to be both a learning and humbling time for me at least. How many times is my clock not lined up with God's and I keep moving to a pace that doesn't recognized that God is outside of TIME and nothing I do will ever change the path and plan He has for me? Like I said, humbling.
This also means a rap up of some fun times with the rest of the retreat committee.
I still need to wash my clothes, pack and plan for a quick getaway after work tomorrow. =-( I think I am becoming a little overwhelmed.
WHOOHOOO!!! We have received our first spam comments. This is very exciting. We finally got the telemarketer to stop calling and now we are on our next adventure.
CA just started subbing for the local school district up in Anchorage. YOU have to tell us some of the better stories!! Hope you are doing well, we got your message and I am hoping to be able to call you once this retreat stuff is OVER.
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Pesky Lil Critters
I've been having this nagging feeling lately. That sensation you get when you know you're forgetting something. It has escaped your mind, you can't put your finger on it, but you know you are forgetting something. I figured it out today....
My hand gently brushed my chin. And there it was....I did put my finger on it. It was that darned chin hair. Despite the harrar of having a chin hair that grows long, thick and black, there are times I can forget about. Unlike eyebrows that grow unruly and look at you each time you glance into the mirror, the ghastly chin hair hides itself in a place one rarely gets a good look. The hard truth is that others do get a look at this region. For instance, anytime I'm in a car and the sun is setting, it is a sure bet my passenger is getting a look at the soft fuzz on my chin and neck as they glisten in the rays of the light, I can only imagine what the wirey black hair is doing. By the time I found it today, it was clear it has been some time since I had remembered it last. Maybe I should set a date for it in my day planner - "let's see, this Thursday I need to check the progress on c.h."
I fear if I have no reminder to yank it from its place, this travesty could occur again...and things could get hairy.
-jlt
My hand gently brushed my chin. And there it was....I did put my finger on it. It was that darned chin hair. Despite the harrar of having a chin hair that grows long, thick and black, there are times I can forget about. Unlike eyebrows that grow unruly and look at you each time you glance into the mirror, the ghastly chin hair hides itself in a place one rarely gets a good look. The hard truth is that others do get a look at this region. For instance, anytime I'm in a car and the sun is setting, it is a sure bet my passenger is getting a look at the soft fuzz on my chin and neck as they glisten in the rays of the light, I can only imagine what the wirey black hair is doing. By the time I found it today, it was clear it has been some time since I had remembered it last. Maybe I should set a date for it in my day planner - "let's see, this Thursday I need to check the progress on c.h."
I fear if I have no reminder to yank it from its place, this travesty could occur again...and things could get hairy.
-jlt
Off Road is Off the Chain
I bought my jeep wrangler 5 years ago, last month. I have loved having it and have seen the mountains in a way a passenger car just doesn't offer. I've wanted to go on an off-roading caravan for a few years - head out with a group (safety in numbers), take advantage of the modifications and wisdom of others. I sent out an invite to the singles group at church - a fairly new group, still getting the feel of things. On the big day, six of us are there and ready to play. The original plan of taking an easy trail, was no longer a concern, because the subaru driver didn't make the trip. 2 Jeeps ready to hit the trail. I tell Crazy C that I'll follow him (I'm all about letting the man lead - right?!). "Sure, " he says, "I know some trails that aren't tough, just a dirt road with some bumps, but it'll be fun." And so, up the mountain we go - a car of three men and a car of three women. The speed at which Crazy C was climbing the mountain should've been the first indication that following him could be dangerous.We head onto a trail that I'm sure says, "dead end." Those words of warning aren't used loosely. There are a number of times when I think it isn't a good idea to keep following the boys down the steep climb, rolling over rocks and ducking from tree branches as they reach for our heads, eyeballs and all. The scared jeep of girls evens stops to pray for God's wisdom and protection. I finally decide, I've had enough.... I want to turn around and I'm fully aware climbing what we rolled down will be no easy task. After a 100 pt turn, we are facing upward. By this time, I have given the wheel over and sit in disbelief as a passenger in my own car and the fellas attempt to get it unstuck. My poor baby, I've taken such good care of you over the years. At one point, boy driver behind the wheel, 3 girl passengers and 2 male hood ornaments (on the hood for additional weight - I am waiting for them to crash through the windshield or be run over). The next thing I see (after a terrible noise), is both guys giving the driver the "cut it off sign" also illustrated by slitting one's own throat...accompanied by a couple, "it's done, it's done!" Sure enough one of those darned rocks slammed into my oil pan....
Approximately 8 hours later I am safely home, but not my jeep. The fellas were great and offered to fix it, spent hours taking the original oil pan off, putting a new one on....but weeks later, I realize there is a leak...and then good old fashioned smoking from the hood - shoot! Eventually it took a trip to a professional and $357 later, my baby is back and running. I don't think a trip to the mountains will ever be the same. Off-roading seems like a ridiculously foolish hobby now and I think I've actually lost respect for hard-core off-roaders. Aside from the others stranded on the mountain, no one saw the "crazy" trail we were on, it isn't something people will be talking about forever, and I won't begin to analyze the number of shoes I could've purchased with that mechanic bill.
Approximately 8 hours later I am safely home, but not my jeep. The fellas were great and offered to fix it, spent hours taking the original oil pan off, putting a new one on....but weeks later, I realize there is a leak...and then good old fashioned smoking from the hood - shoot! Eventually it took a trip to a professional and $357 later, my baby is back and running. I don't think a trip to the mountains will ever be the same. Off-roading seems like a ridiculously foolish hobby now and I think I've actually lost respect for hard-core off-roaders. Aside from the others stranded on the mountain, no one saw the "crazy" trail we were on, it isn't something people will be talking about forever, and I won't begin to analyze the number of shoes I could've purchased with that mechanic bill.
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