Reflections of November

Today I pulled out my old journals and was rifling through them, enjoying some memories and cringing at others. Here are a few excerpts from this very month over the years...

November 1980
"I have a very nice substitute teacher who seems to notice me. I like being at school when she is my teacher."

November 1981
"I am happy because it is raining and I love the smell and sight of it."

November 1985
"I am starting to wear a thing called a head-gear. When I wear it I look like a nerd and mom even says I have to wear it to school. She says I look fine in it so I think she must have problems with her eyes because everyone can see that it makes me look like a dork. I only wear it until I cross the street in the mornings and then put it in my backpack until I get home after school. That way we are both happy."

November 1986
"I feel like a total loser. You know why? Because I am one." (Ah, those wonderful teenage years!)

November 1987
"Being 15 years old is the worst. I bet there is no one in the whole history of the universe who liked being 15 years old except for maybe Ricky Schroeder."

November 1988
"Trish and I took a bunch of pictures today. I hope they turn out good 'cuz it's expensive black and white film and the developing costs like $11.00. We went to the dance in P.V. and they played Def Leppard! Trish asked me, "How is anyone supposed to dance to this?" So I showed her some of my headbanger moves. She was embarrassed but I had a lot of fun. Def Leppard's music is amazing and they make me wish I could play the guitar."

November 1989
"I spent the entire day at the kick-back cliffs with friends today. We brought a picnic and just talked about everything imaginable. When it started to get close to dark almost everyone left but I stayed to watch the sunset. I can't believe they were all right there with prime seats for the sun's big finale and they missed their chance. I sat beneath my favorite tree and stayed until there was not one flicker of light remaining. It was an amazing show."

November 1990
"I can never get enough of Ben and Jerry's ice cream. Cherry Garcia and Chunky Monkey would have to be among my two favorites. I go into the shop so often that the workers know me by name. Whenever I walk in they yell out, 'Gerby! What's it gonna be?'"

November 1991
"Today I certified as a Level 2 Interpreter for the Deaf. That means I'm up to $10/hour! Not even half of what I made in California a year ago, but I'll take it. You know what I miss most about California, though? Weather that makes sense. Around here it changes about every two minutes: from a clear, cloudless day to dark, stormy skies with a promise of rain or snow. And, for the record, I'll almost always take the rain over anything else."

November 1997
"Today Coolister (age 4) asked, "Mom, why does God put mistakes in our skin?" I asked if he was talking about things like birthmarks but he said, "No, I mean mistakes INSIDE our skin - in our bodies. Like when you want to hit someone or take a fish out of a fishbowl." I started to explain free agency to him but he stopped me and said, "Wait, I know this already. Because there's always good and bad, but WE have to choose." He is such a smarty pants."

(I had to add another one from 1997...)
"Coolister, in his most serious manner, told me today that when he grows up he wants to be a farmer, a cowboy or a doctor. He then asked, "Which is better?" I told him he could be anything he wanted so he asked, "Could I be ALL three?" I told him that he can do anything he sets his mind to. ElemenoB (age 3) had been listening in on the whole conversation and piped in with this: "I just want to be a dog when I get big. A little one." I guess it's a step up from her just wanting to be pretty when she grows up!"

November 1998
"I want to be someone who brings light into dark places. I'm not sure how to go about doing this exactly, but it is something I feel passionate about today."


Any other entries are still a bit too recent to be included... but if you come back in another 10 years or so I may have some new material to share.

( Today I am thankful that I kept journals in my younger years - even though I often debate creating a bonfire with them.)

20 Years Was A Long Time Ago

Photo of Wayfarer's Chapel from panoramio.com

I have always loved to write. From the time I was 8 years old until I got married in 1992 I was a dedicated journal writer, recording all sorts of mundane life events. This post is taken from the journal I kept for the year 1989, when I was 17 years old.

Today I bought my prom ticket for $85.00. I asked Mike to go with me but he hasn't given me an answer yet. I feel kind of stupid being the one doing the asking but it's better than waiting around for someone to ask me and feeling sorry for myself. The funny thing is, I guess I'm waiting around waiting for his answer and feeling sorry for myself that he might say no anyway. If he can't go I'll just take Chip and probably have a better time anyway.
(Oh, how I wish I had followed my gut feelings on this one! That was about the worst date of my life and I had no one to blame but myself.)

I drove to Wayfarer's Chapel today. It was so peaceful there, tucked back in the hills. I thought about how stoked I would be if I was ever inside this building during a rain storm. I sat on the stone steps and started to write a song and then I walked over to the cliffs and just looked at the waves crashing on the rocks below for awhile. The sky was a burst of oranges and reds with a tinge of pink on the underbelly of the clouds and the tide was high. So I'm moving on. Thank you, Blondie.
(I hope that at least some of you can appreciate the awesome wit of 17-year-old me.)

School today. I hated every minute of it. Trish and I were laying out on her roof in our bikinis yesterday and we got burnt. I would never wear my bikini in public, in case any of my kids in the future read this. Even though my dad says I should wear one now while I can still get away with it. He cracks me up.
(I'm not sure which is funnier - the disclaimer to my future kids or my dad's approval of my bikini.)

I can't imagine ever not having music in my life. Today I am listening to my favorite tape filled with songs that I got off the radio. I hate when the DJ has to talk right until the singing starts because then I don't get the whole intro. Why do they do that? Anyway, "Just Like Heaven" from The Cure just finished and now the Cowboy Junkies are singing "Sweet Jane". The next song is REM's "You Are The Everything" which is probably my favorite song in the world right now. It is one of those songs that puts me in a mood. I don't know how else to describe it. Music is such a powerful force.
(Some things never change - except maybe my favorite songs. Those change daily.)

Someone burned down the Ivy House. I wonder who it was? I also wonder if the lady who lived in there was really a witch with somewhere close to 50 cats. That's what everyone says. You know what I think? If I lived in a house with 50 cats I would burn it down, too, straight to the ground. I would never tell anyone this because they would think I was a mean witch for hating cats so much.
(The funniest thing about this snippet is that I am completely serious.)

Here I am again, sitting on the bus stop bench in front of our apartment building. Somehow the sound of the occasional passing car clears my head and helps me to think. And here's what I'm thinking tonight: I am an idiot.
(No use trying to lie to myself, I suppose.)

That's all you get. The remaining pages are a jumbled mess of my obsession with various persons of the male species which honestly serves no purpose and should be burned.

Kind of like the Ivy House.

Once Upon a Time...

I love to read, and today was no exception. I found a book I hadn't read in a long time and sat down to enjoy some quality reading time. Only, the story was different than I remembered.

The main character of the story was really starting to annoy me.

She was shallow, inconsiderate and dense. She made stupid decisions based on nothing. She hurt people without realizing it. She was a complete jerk. All unbeknownst to her.

I was screaming inside! "Are you really that stupid?! How can you NOT realize what you're doing!!" I wanted to pull her out of the pages of the book and give her a serious talking to about the reality of her situation, to turn back time and undo all the things she did that were driving me insane!

I had to put the book down. It was torture to read it.

I started thinking... how often do we do things and make decisions without realizing the impact it has on others? This girl, this silly teenager with a head full of dreams and plans, was so clueless (yet in tune) with what was going on around her! At least, she was aware enough to record these things in her journal - yet still remain removed from the truth of it all. How? How can that be?

As the girl grew older and more mature, the memory of these things was much more rose-colored. And then, as an adult, she wanted to read the pages of her journal once again - to read about what she remembered as fun times and funny stories... only to discover the truth of who she really was.

I prefer my story the way I remember it, not the way I recorded it.

We're supposed to write in our journals, right? And keep them for our kids to read someday?

It's a good thing we don't have a fire pit in our backyard or this notebook would be ashes by now.

Welcome to my life!

When I was eight years old, I was given my first journal. I was excited at the prospect of filling its pages with the adventurous stories that would doubtless occur throughout my life. However, the stories I recorded were actually quite mundane. And, if anything exciting ever did happen, I never recorded it for fear that one of my siblings would find the journal and use it against me. I was a faithful writer up through high school, even a year or so into my marriage, and my journals became more detailed as I grew older. And then, it all stopped. I wrote once or twice a year at best. And then something funny started to happen. My kids became interested in my life stories.

"Tell us another story of your childhood!" they would plead. So I'd read them a snippet of my life from my journal and they would listen, mesmerized, and even ask questions afterwards. We started a family journal that lasted 3 years. Every month, we would get down the calendar and write about the events that were important to each of us. That journal is a treasure, but no longer a tradition.

So, now I am at the here and now. I am keeping a journal once again, an online "journaling scrapbook" if you will, mostly for the future enjoyment of my children. But that leads me to another thing I have become deficient in, and that is staying in touch with friends and extended family. This blog appears to be a rather easy solution to both problems, and I am excited to start. So, WELCOME TO MY LIFE.

I hope you enjoy my random thoughts and daily goings-on with my family and friends.