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I spent the weekend in Hopewell Junction, New York, which is about 90 minutes north of Manhattan (or so I'm told) and I still haven't scraped my jaw off the floor. It's gorgeous there. I never knew so many trees existed, and all in one place! I spent an hour Friday just sitting by this amazing lake, staring at the scenery. I'll post pictures when I get them organized, though I doubt they'll do this place justice. The conference went very well, and I had an amazing time. The living conditions leave much to be desired, but at least the food was good. We stayed at a camp for the first time (we usually stay on college campuses), and we were't really prepared for it. They said it would be "chilly" at night. They did not say it would be so damn cold that having 10 layers of blankets, 2 t-shirts, a sweatshirt, and three pairs of socks would not keep you warm. The cabin we stayed in had no heat, windows that didn't close all the way, and walls with cracks in them. It was anywhere from 43 to 46 degrees outside at night. That might not seem cold if you're from Minnesota, Maine, or Antarctica, but that's damn cold if you were born and raised in sunny Southern California. I'd much MUCH rather try sleeping in 110 degree heat than when it's 43 degrees outside. I couldn't stop shivering long enough to fall asleep. A few of us slept through a couple workshops just because it was easier to sleep during the day!
The conference, as always, was a blast. It's a conference for Secular Jews, and something I've been doing every Memorial Day weekend for the last 17 years. I've made some amazing friends there, and really enjoy going back every year. The main part of the conference is the workshops. There is always a variety of options to choose from, as well as a variety of presenters. The presenters can range from teens to the near dead. Sometimes they're interesting. Sometimes they're not. It's a hit and miss, but always gives us something to think about. My favorite part of the conference has nothing to do with the workshops and everything to do with the after hours events. (It's not what you think, I swear). On Saturday nights there is always some sort of event for the "youth." (Youth is anyone ages 13-30, as us almost 30 year olds refuse to be called adults.) Since the conference is in a different city every year, the Saturday night event varies. Some years we go out on the town, other years we hit up a family fun center, or amusement park. This year we stayed on the campground and did a badass scavenger hunt. It was part quest, part hunt, and total fun. With the exception of one girl, the people in my group were…less than intelligent. But that just added to the entertainment. Aside from the Saturday night festivities, there is a "talent" show on Sunday night after the banquet. I say "talent" because usually there are less participants with talent than there are participants without talent. Some people just straight rock. This year we had several amazing piano players, some fairly good singing, and a couple of comedy acts. We also had some not so great piano players, some HORRID singing (She butchered Feygi's language!), and some really awful comedians. But it was a great night regardless of the lack of talent displayed.
The best part of the weekend, and the real reason why I go, is the people there. They're just amazing to be around. I joked this weekend that the conference is actually the one weekend I feel dumber, because I'm surrounded by so many people smarter than I am. I mean, I'm not a dumb person (most of the time), but these people are just brilliant. We hang out and talk all night long. The more athletic folk play Ultimate Frisbee until the wee hours of the morning, and it's great fun to watch them. I get much less sleep on this weekend than any other, but it's so totally worth it. I only wish we could do it more than once a year.
It's almost 5am and I'm awake. Wide awake. This might seem normal to some, but its not for me. Despite my plethora of sleeping issues, 5am is generally a time when my body has given in to the exhaustion and temporarily taken to sleep; however restless it might be. But today I am awake and not happy about it. It would make sense if I was stressed out and unable to shut my brain off to enjoy my sleep. I leave for a conference in New York on Thursday night, but I'm not stressed about it. It'll be a fun weekend and I'll get to see friends that I miss very much. It's my 17th consecutive year at this conference, so there is no fear of the unknown to keep me from sleeping. My sister and I will take the red-eye and land in NY about 11am. We'll head off to the conference locale and hang out while everyone arrives. 3.5 days of fun will occur and then we'll fly back home Monday. It's the same every year.
As I write this, Jas and Mia are putting on a symphony of snoring. I envy their sleep at the same time that I'm irritated by their noise. I sometimes miss sleeping alone, when there is actually quiet. Jason's snoring in my ear is what woke me up several hours ago, and it's hard not to be annoyed at him for it. I know he's not doing it on purpose, but he has repeatedly refused to try simple things to stop it. I often wish I recorded the snoring so I could play it back for him, but that seems like a lot of effort for little result.
I guess I'll try resting again. Maybe this computer break will have reset my brain into thinking it's time to sleep. I'll hold my breath.
Yesterday was the two month anniversary of our kidney transplant surgery, and I swear if I didn‘t have the scars to prove it, I wouldn‘t even remember. I feel wonderful. Aside from a twinge every now and then, my muscles have fully recuperated. Even bowling last Friday was fairly painless. I’ve lost weight since surgery, and I’ve started working out again. I’d like to think there’s still a small amount of swelling, but it’s really just fat. The fat, however, is shrinking, and I couldn‘t possibly be happier about it!
People keep asking me how I’m feeling, and it honestly takes me a few seconds to remember why they’re asking. It used to be the only thing I could think about, and now I hardly remember it at all. Kelly and I were in the lunchroom the other day, and an old coworker was in to visit and said “How are the twins?” referring to the two of us. I just looked blankly at Kelly, hoping she understood. She had to explain to me that he meant our kidneys. I just completely forgot. Obviously, it’s a little more memorable to her, as she’s no longer stuck on a machine 3 days a week. My life hasn‘t changed at all. The only difference I’ve noticed is that my appetite never really came back. I used to be hungry all the time (I didn‘t get to be this size by NOT eating, you know?) and now I find that I have to remind myself to eat because I don’t get hungry often. Of all the side effects and potential problems that could have come from donating my kidney, I’m pretty sure this is the best possible one to have.
Looking back on the entire experience, I’d have to say the stress beforehand was the worst part by far. The pain afterward was no walk in the park, and the inability to put on my own pants for 2 weeks was humiliating. But I’d much rather relive the aftermath twice, than go through the pre-op stress again.
When I was a kid, my dad would sometimes take us to the bowling alley on Saturdays for something to do. Occasionally we’d go miniature golfing or to the movies, but most of the time (as far as I can recall) it would be bowling. I loved it. I sucked, but I loved spending time with my dad. When I got into high school, I’d go bowling at Rock n’ Bowl with my friends on Saturday nights. I still wasn’t very good, but it didn’t matter. We had a great time.
About 10 years ago I talked my dad into joining a doubles bowling league on Tuesday nights at the locale alley. It was super cheap, and tons of fun. Dad and I bowled there for a few seasons, before his hand and eyes got to the point where he didn’t want to bowl anymore. But I met some great people in that league, which caused me to join another. And another. And another. At one point I was bowling 6 nights a week at the same place, and loving every second of it. I took a second job at the coffee shop inside the bowling alley, just because I was there all the time. I figured if I was going to be there, I might as well make some money. That lasted all of 4 months. But I kept bowling and making new friends (including my husband). Progressively, I got better at it too. I won a few tournaments, and started bowling with better bowlers. I was totally addicted.
Then time went on, and the people changed. I still loved to bowl, but certain people there made me want to be elsewhere. So I cut back on the amount of leagues I bowled in. I started a league in a center that was 30 miles away with Jenn, a friend that I’d bowled with near home. It was great. I loved the bowling alley, and the people there. Eventually, I quit all my leagues close to home, and only bowled 30 miles away. As luck would have it, Jas and I moved within 10 miles of the center, so I didn’t have to drive as far. Sadly, the center I loved closed down, and we moved to a different place. It’s only 4 miles away now, but it’s not as great as the other was. Since I spend most of my waking hours on the computer, I began to have wrist problems, and bowling was becoming more painful than fun. So in summer of 2006, I quit bowling altogether. I missed it a lot, but every time I thought about starting again, I remembered the pain, and decided I was better off without it.
Last November, Jenn asked me to start bowling on her team because they were losing a member. I missed bowling a lot, so I decided I’d try it again. I didn’t know the other two guys on the team (only by name) so I was a little nervous. The first night I started, Jenn was out sick, so it was just me and these two random guys. I’m pretty shy, so I thought it would be awkward and uncomfortable. They turned out to be pretty damn cool. Over the last few months we’ve all become good friends, and I’m enjoying bowling more than I ever had. I look forward to every Friday night. Even when I was unable to bowl after surgery, I went down and hung out and still felt like part of the team. These past three weeks I’ve been able to bowl again, and despite the agony I’m in (my stomach muscles haven’t fully recovered yet) I’m bowling very very well, and having a great time doing it. Every week we stay after bowling and just hang out together. Our league goes to Laughlin for sweeps the first weekend in June, and it’ll be the last week we bowl together until September. I’m looking forward to Laughlin because it’ll be a blast, but I’m dreading Laughlin because it means the league is over. I don’t know what I’ll do on Friday nights this summer. I won’t have Jenn to make bets with when she leaves a huge split. I won’t have Pitter to worry about, when he lofts his ball 50 feet down the lane, and looks like he’s going to fly with it. I won’t have Donald to laugh at when he misses the 5-pin. Again. (Of course, I also won’t get myself confused with Donald, since we share initials, and I always want to bowl when it’s his turn.) I hope we can still get together during the summer and drink or bowl or even play darts. This has been the most fun I’ve had bowling since I joined my first league 10 years ago. I’m really going to miss it.
I’ve never been afraid of getting older. I’ve always thought I’d rather get older than get dead, so the age thing never bothered me. This year, however, I’ve caught myself thinking about it more than in the past. I will be 29 on Saturday. This will be my last birthday where I can still say I’m in my 20′s. But even that part doesn’t bother me much. What’s bothering me is where I am in life, as opposed to where I thought I would be.
Now, let me just say that I understand you can never plan your life minute by minute. Things come up, plans change, compromises are made. But you can have a general idea of where you want to be by certain milestones. By 25, I wanted to be married. By 27, I wanted to have my first child. By 29, I wanted to have my second and final child. By 30, I wanted to have a house. None of those things happened close to when I wanted them to. (I suppose the last one is still technically possible, but I won’t be holding my breath.)
I’m not dissatisfied with my life, but if I’m being truly honest, I’m not completely satisfied either. I hate living in an apartment. The people upstairs drive me insane, and the management is incompetent. (When both of our toilets stopped working within 3 days of each other, I was told it would take them FIVE days to get out to fix one. I threatened to start using the office porch as a toilet, and it still took them three days to come take a look.) I want my own space to do with what I want. I want a backyard for Mia to run in. I want room for babies to grow into children. I want to go shopping, and not have to tally every penny for fear that I’ll be starving for the next two weeks. I want to look at my life and say “Hey, an adult lives here.”
Saturday is a baby shower for Kevin’s wife. 98% of me wants to play the “It’s My Birthday” card and not go. I don’t want to sit for three hours watching someone else get prepared for the life I want. But there I go being selfish again. I AM going to the shower, despite my incredible desire not to. I will force myself to have a good time (or at least fake it well) and stop thinking about the things I don’t have. I should be grateful for what I do have. A roof over my head, food in my stomach, a job I adore, friends I can trust, and a husband who loves me, even when I’m being a selfish bitch.
Being 29 isn’t bad. And so what if I’m not where I thought I should be, right? There’s always next year.
I’m much calmer now than when I wrote the last post. I’ve come to my senses and am now able to think rationally about the entire situation. The thing that bothered me most about my reaction was that I was making it all about me. They shouldn’t have another baby, because I want one. Jas shouldn’t listen to his best friend’s complaints because it makes him not want what I want. See the pattern? That part disgusts me. I don’t want to be selfish. I shouldn’t care what other people have in relation to what I have. I should be thankful for what I’ve got, and not an ungrateful bitch when someone else gets something.
I still very very much want to have a baby. That part hasn’t gone away at all. And being that today is Mother’s Day and most of my friends are celebrating, I’m a little more down than usual. But I’m still able to be happy for them. For some of them, this is their first mother’s day, and I couldn’t possibly be happier. I know that someday it’ll be my first mother’s day, and they’ll be just as happy for me!
To all the mom’s out there, new or experienced, have a great Mother’s Day!!
This is not a happy post. This is a whiny, pissy, selfish e-tantrum. If you choose not to read it, I don’t blame you. If you choose to continue, don’t blame me. I’ll probably end up deleting this post anyhow.
Tonight (or last night technically, since it’s after 2am) I found out that someone I know is pregnant. And I can’t even pretend to be happy for them. In fact, I’m down right pissed off. This particular woman has health issues and was told after her first child that she shouldn’t have more children. She was told after her second child that she shouldn’t have more children. She was told when she was pregnant with her third child, that it could kill her. She had him anyhow. And now she’s pregnant again. With her FOURTH child. My anger at the stupidity of this pregnancy might be a little more justified if I was concerned for her well being. And I am, to an extent. But more of the anger is of the “Why her and not me?” variety which, if I believed, would certainly cement my place in hell. It’s a completely selfish and cruel thought to have, and yet, I can’t stop it from repeating over and over in my head. Why should a family, who can hardly support the three kids they have, get to have another, and yet I still don’t get to have just one?
Even more selfish is that one of my first thoughts upon hearing the news was “Great. Ours just got pushed back another 4 years. If ever.” The father of this forthcoming child (and all the others) is my husband’s best friend. And I love him (my husband AND the best friend). He’s a wonderful father, a great friend, and just a fantastic person to be around. But I know the extra strain of this child is something that he will gripe to Jas about (as he should since they’re best friends), and it will make Jas think twice about having kids. Same thing happened when they got married. It’s not a happy marriage, and therefore Jas was hesitant to make the same commitment. Then the strain of the first kid started showing up, and suddenly Jas was backing out of our plans for a family. Then as soon as he started talking about it again, they had another. And another. And now another.
I am consumed with an overwhelming jealousy that I can’t shake. And not a good kind of jealousy that allows me to be happy for them at the same time.The last time I was so emotional about having a baby, I was still able to be happy for those who were pregnant, or had just had their kids. This time I’m just angry and irrational. I’m angry at this woman for continuing to have kids when it puts her life in danger, and could potentially leave her kids without a mother. I’m angry at the dad for griping to Jas about their financial problems, and influencing how Jas feels about starting his own family, even though I know they’ve been best friends since they were in second grade and he has a right to tell Jas whatever he wants. I’m angry at Jas for not being adult enough to realize that just because they have problems doesn’t mean we will. I’m angry at myself for being so incredibly selfish and not at all happy about their expanding family. I’m angry that this stupid thing is keeping me from falling asleep. I’m tired of watching everyone else get exactly the family that I want, and that I fear I’ll never get.
My mother-in-law is by far the most creative and crafty person I know. She cooks, bakes, paints, arranges flowers, gardens, sews, and can make anything out of anything. I’ve always wished I was crafty, and have gone through several phases where I swore I could BE crafty if I tried hard enough. First was cross-stitching. My mom used to do it when I was little, and it seemed easy. But it hurt my eyes to look at it for more than 20 minutes. So I tossed that plan. Then I tried painting. I bought these cute little wood figurines and a ton of toll paints. That was fun for a while, but was a complete mess, and I wasn’t at all good at it. Next I tried gardening. That might have worked if I didn’t live in an apartment. I tried growing flowers in cute little window boxes, but a neighbor’s cat kept knocking them off the patio ledge. I gave that up for the length of our apartment living phase. Last summer I tried beading. That was the only one of my projects so far that I’ve been good at. At 3 weeks, it also lasted the longest. I found it hurt my back to sit at the kitchen table and bead, and Mia knocked over my tray more than once when I tried sitting on the couch. My beading stuff is packed away for now, but I’m thinking I might try it again soon. I tried making flannel blankets the Thanksgiving before last, but only managed to get 2 done. They’re super easy, and I did one for my sister and one for my mom. But I don’t really have enough room to do them properly, so the material is in a bin under my bed, until I can spread out. Again, after the apartment phase.
Every time we visit my mother-in-law, I get the idea to try something new. Last time I was there, she showed me this great jewelry rack that she’d made. It’s simply the grate that goes on a screen door, a couple spacers, and some s-hooks. That’s it. The necklaces hook on to the s-hooks, and are easy to see and organize. My current jewelry box only had 1 hook to hang necklaces, and mine were getting all tangled. I finally went to Home Depot this weekend, and for less than $40, I got everything I needed.
 Tada!
(The picture is slightly crooked, as my closet is very small, and my head was crammed against the wall trying to take the shot.) Most of those necklaces are the beading projects from last summer. The top row has the necklaces I wear most often, and even still I only wear about 3 of them. The earrings on the bottom are fish hooks, and match some of the necklaces. I love this because everything is untangled and so easy to see. It works for necklaces, bracelets, anklets, and earrings with fish hooks. It took me about 20 minutes to install from start to finish. (It would have been less if I had a drill, but since I don’t I was stuck drilling the screws in by hand.) I know it’s minor, but I am super proud of myself. Of course, it’s not really being crafty or creative if you blatantly steal the idea from someone else, and duplicate it exactly. But it’s a start!
The comprehensive list of all the books I read in 2008 (In chronological order):
- True Evil: A Novel – Greg Iles
- The Mayor of Lexington Avenue – James Sheehan
- Killer Dreams – Iris Johansen
- The Life of Reilly – Rick Reilly
- The Alibi Man – Tami Hoag
- Naked in Death – J.D. Robb
- Island of the Sequined Love Nun – Christopher Moore
- Send No Flowers – Sandra Brown
- Glory in Death – J.D. Robb
- Immortal in Death – J.D. Robb
- Rapture in Death – J.D. Robb
- Ceremony in Death – J.D. Robb
- Vengeance in Death – J.D. Robb
- Holiday in Death – J.D. Robb
- Conspiracy in Death – J.D. Robb
- Loyalty in Death – J.D. Robb
- Witness in Death – J.D. Robb
- Judgment in Death – J.D. Robb
- Betrayal in Death – J.D. Robb
- Seduction in Death – J.D. Robb
- Reunion in Death – J.D. Robb
- Purity in Death – J.D. Robb
- Portrait in Death – J.D. Robb
- Ricochet – Sandra Brown
- My Sister’s Keeper: A Novel – Jodi Picoult
- Harvesting the Heart: A Novel – Jodi Picoult
- Firestorm – Iris Johansen
- Final Target – Iris Johansen
- Things I Learned About My Dad: In Therapy – Heather Armstrong
- The Hollow – Nora Roberts
- Killjoy – Julie Garwood
- Nineteen Minutes – Jodi Picoult
- A Thin Dark Line – Tami Hoag
- Twilight – Stephenie Meyer
- New Moon – Stephenie Meyer
- Eclipse – Stephenie Meyer
- Breaking Dawn – Stephenie Meyer
- Alpine for You – Maddy Hunter
- Top O’ the Mourning – Maddy Hunter
- Pasta Imperfect – Maddy Hunter
- Such a Pretty Fat – Jen Lancaster
- The Secret Life of Bees – Sue Monk Kidd
- Pagan Stone – Nora Roberts
- Second Chance – Jane Green
My name is Denora and I live in the wonderful smoggyness of Southern California with my 5 year old pug Mia. I work in the playground industry, but I’m a computer dork at heart. I like reading, listening to music, bowling, and spending time with my friends.
Occasionally, I can be a nice person. I recently gave a kidney to a very good friend of mine. You can read all about the actual day of donation here, or check out the Archve Catagories under Donation for the entire process. It was an amazing experience, and one I’ll never forget. I urge everyone to look into organ donation, either live donation or post mortem. You’d be amazed at how easy it is to improve the quality of someone else’s life.
I LOVE comments and e-mails, so please feel free to do both often! I try to respond as often as possible, but don’t be surprised if it takes me a day or two. I like to pretend I have a life outside the computer.
Happy Reading!
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