Sorry. I love you.

When I was a kid, my sister and I would get into little fights all the time. Whether it was roughhousing or book stealing or other things that seven-year-old girls do to eight-year-old girls, I've lost track of the number of times our mom would find one of us crying, approach the other one, and remind us to apologize to each other.  

I was puzzled each time she'd tell me to say "I'm sorry" when I hadn't even tried to hurt my sister. Some of the hurt was physical, some emotional, but my defense to Mom was always "but I didn't MEAN to!" I thought apologies were only due when you intended to hurt somebody.  Because come on, I'm not going to lie -- there were many times where I'd pull her hair or scratch her or any number of other things I knew would get a rise out of her. When reminded to say I was sorry after one of those daily incidents, I complied. 

But it was really hard for me to say I was sorry when the hurt was accidental. I couldn't get past my instinct of "why say I'm sorry when I didn't even mean to do it?"


Thankfully, mom wouldn't back down. She kept reminding me that when we hurt somebody, no matter the reason, we tell them that we're sorry.

I'm really glad I finally learned that lesson. Learning it as a kid has made it much easier to put into practice as an adult.

Because as adults, our relationships are much more complex. Very rarely is it as simple as "hey, you tripped your best friend. Apologize." As adults, most of our hurting other people is unintentional. Very rarely do we go around in blatant disrespect or disregard for other people's feelings. Behavior that hurts is rarely on purpose, but that doesn't change the fact that the hurt is still there.  That it's painful. That you feel sad and let down.  

And as an adult, it's interesting to find that not everyone learned the same lessons as I did. Not everyone realizes how important it is to say you're sorry when you've hurt somebody else. There's a lot of people who still think "oh, I didn't mean to so you should just get over it."

If only it were that easy. It's not. Life is hard. It's complex.. It's messy. And we need to love each other through it. We need to put other people's feelings ahead of our own, and admit when we've goofed. Even when we didn't mean to cause hurt or damage or bad feelings. In fact, especially when we didn't mean to cause hurt or damage or bad feelings.

Because part of living in this world is having harmony with those around us. Relationships are hardly ever 50/50. There are times where you'll be in need and need others to take care of you. There are other times where you'll be the one giving 110% because you love the other person enough to give them all you have, and then a bit more.

I truly admire the people in my life who know all of this and then some. They see the pure joy in putting others first, and know that a lot of own own happiness comes in seeking happiness for those who matter most to us.

Remembering Mary

A few weeks ago, one of my fellow boot campers passed away. It was a shock that saddened our group, and the loss of Mary has not gone unnoticed. 

Fellow boot camper Sarah asked whether anyone had a memory or story about Mary that they wanted to share with her family. I wrote this yesterday and wanted to make sure I had a place to keep it safe.

I first met Mary in January of 2012. I was starting the new year with a new attitude along with some new fitness goals, and so I decided to sign up for the Shamrock'n Half Marathon Training sponsored by Fleet Feet Sacramento. I knew I didn't want to run the race (dear god, no running for me!) but figured I could definitely walk it, so I registered with the group of people who also wanted to train as walkers.

The first night of training, I met Mary along with several other new and friendly faces. Mary was a faithful attendee at each and every training session, and even though I knew she had a few years on me, I could NEVER keep up with her! She was one of the fastest walkers I had ever laid eyes on, and she continually left me in her dust as we trained -- and, eventually, as we both completed the half-marathon.

As soon as our marathon training wrapped up, I narrowed in on a new fitness goal of getting stronger and healthier. To help me with that goal I enrolled in Fleet Feet's Fit Body Boot Camp, which kicked off the week after the half-marathon. I showed up the first day and, lo and behold, there was Mary, ready for each and every fitness challenge that was thrown at her! As soon as I saw her, I knew that I had a friend and companion to keep me company in this new group of fitness fanatics.

I was consistently impressed with her spirit of determination as well as her quiet grace. She was easy to talk to and made friends with just about everyone in class.

Before starting this fitness journey, I never realized that I could become so close to a group of wacky and wonderful strangers who were on the same journey as I. It's funny to realize what brings people together – it doesn't have to be a shared past, or family, or politics or where you live. It can be something as simple and as personal as the goals in front of you and how you set out to achieve those goals. I am so happy to have met Mary and worked with her toward our mutual goal of getting outside and getting healthy. She made the journey fun, she inspired me and so many others, and her spirit steadfastly remains within our group.

Dream Journal, July 19th

I plan to keep this one short and sweet, because it was a disturbing dream. It was one of those dreams that I have to process for a while after I wake up, assuring myself "that was just a dream. It didn't really happen. Your life isn't actually that bad."

For the most part, my dream life is a combination of fun and just-plain-weird. I get to have a lot of flying dreams, which are my favorite. I have strange dreams that are hard to interpret on a fairly regular basis. But, from time to time, I do have dreams that scare me, make me sad, or frighten the pants off of me.

Last night's dream -- my mom, dad, and sister were all killed in a house fire in my childhood home.  I wasn't there at the time so I was fine, but this left me the only remaining living member of my family. For the rest of the dream, I was sad and cried an awful lot. Whenever I was around a group of people, someone would remind everyone else not to talk to me or bother me because I'd just been through a terrible tragedy.

I had a second variation of this same dream where the house fire killed my dad and my sister but my mom came out alive. I still cried a lot but tried to keep her close, within sight line, so that I could always verify that she was still alive. I tried to get her to stay in the same room with me when I took a shower.

Dream #2 -- I'm with a group of people and we are being herded onto a boat, but not in normal fashion.  The first part of getting onto the boat involves running down to a floating dock and hopping on. The second part of the boat involves a human-sized catapult that slings a group of people through the air and onto the boat.

I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried.

Dream Journal, July 17th

I've been threatening to start a dream journal for years now. Those who know me well know I dream pretty much every night, and I remember most of my dreams the next morning in high detail. I have several dreams each night, some are mundane, others are strange, still others tell me more about my waking life than I want to know sometimes.

I believe that dreams are an interpretation of what is going on in our life and help us to better understand where we are and where we want to be. My subconscious regularly talks to me in my sleep -- sharing things I already know, and other things I need to know but am not ready to face. 

One of my goals is to get better at documenting my dreams. Not for interpretation sake -- that might come later, but right now all I want is a spot to write them down so I can remember them later.

Last night, I had several dreams. I'll change the names of real-life friends, when applicable, to protect their privacy. Here's the snippets that I remember.

Dream #1 -- I'm heading to some sort of costume party, and I'm dressed like a Christmas tree. I'm wearing a huge green suit with a white sheet at the bottom (the kind we placed around the bottom of our tree every year as a child to catch falling pine needles and hold the presents). The sheet is so long that I have to hold it up with my hand -- feels half like a wedding gown train and half like a diaper.

 I get in an elevator with several other people in costume and I'm the last one in, since my costume takes up so much space and no one can squeeze in behind me. I have a vague sense that the party is with my high school class (which might make sense in real life since we have our 20-year reunion coming up). When we get out of the elevator, I am giddy with the party spirit and immediately head out to the dance floor, where I twirl around in my big Christmas tree costume, then realize that only a few people have arrived so far and I look rather conspicuous, so I twirl over to all of the food and drink tables and take a look at what's available. I don't see many people I know or feel comfortable talking to, and once I spy a group of three people (my sister is one of them) I head in their direction so I'm around people I know and don't feel like a huge idiot wearing a Christmas tree costume.

Dream #2 -- I'm at some sort of mall, I think, hanging out with my friend Sabrina, who I haven't spent time with in a really long time. We used to be close but I feel like we've drifted apart since we haven't hung out in a long time. She poses the question to me about why we haven't been hanging out lately, and I tell her the truth -- that I feel a bit awkward now that she has a new group of girl friends. She says yeah, I've been thinking about that too, then asks me what I want to do about it. I feel really uncomfortable and don't say anything, because the truth is I don't know what I want and therefore don't know what to say.

A bit later in the dream, Sabrina and I and a group of other people have completed some big task and are going to be rewarded with two movies and pizza. I've completed this task several times before and so I know the reward will be two kiddo movies and that the pizza is ordered in between the two movies. I'm tired and hungry and not in the mood to watch kids movies or wait for my pizza, so I tell Sabrina that I'm going to take off. I think I also say this so that I can just leave and stop feeling awkward around her. She just kind of shrugs it off.

Dream #3 -- I'm sitting in a hot tub at some big hotel or resort-type place, and there's a group of girls sitting around chatting in the pool next to me. I know one of them from Junior League and recognize the others vaguely from the league, but I'm only friends with one of them. I'm enjoying my time in the hot tub and listening in on their conversation.  I'm almost done in the hot tub and thinking about getting out, when for some reason I decide to poop in the tub before I leave. I feel a bit scandalous doing this but I do it anyway. I figure nobody will get into the tub after me, especially if I pull the top onto it after I get out. So I get out, pull the top on, grab my towel and start walking away.  I keep looking back at the group of girls that I was next to, and it looks like they might hop out of their pool and into the hot tub. Part of me is worried that they'll see the poop and think I did it, the other side of me is indignant that they'd think I pooped in a hot tub.

I get out of there and go back to my room where I am changing out of my suit and into dry clothes. I have a new bra but I can't get it on right because the straps are all crooked in the back, so I get frustrated and just put on my old bra, which is damp from sitting next to my wet towel.

Dream #4 -- I'm on vacation near the beach with my dad, my sister, and Sabrina. It's one of our last days and we are looking for a fun excursion to take. We walk up to a woman behind a counter and ask her what excursion she would recommend, and we decide to go rent bikes and explore a coastal area.  As we are heading to the excursion, I try to show off by holding my bike up with one hand and say "hey Brenda, look at this."  Up ahead of us, Sabrina is also holding her bike with one hand and I'm irritated because she's showing off that she is stronger than me.

Summer of Susan -- The First Month

I wish I had more energy to write tonight, but after a full day car shopping (more on that later) and an evening at boot camp, I am Wiped Out. So, tonight's post comes to you in list form.

The first month of the Summer of Susan has been mellow and relaxing -- exactly what I was hoping for. I did, however, manage to accomplish a few things:

7 Movies Watched

Chimpanzee

This American Life Live!

The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel

Bernie

Dark Shadows

Men in Black 3

What to Expect when You're Expecting

3 Plays Attended

Wicked

Little Shop of Horrors

Rx

7 Books Read

State of Wonder – Ann Patchett

This is How – Augusten Burroughs

Cockeyed – Ryan Knighton

Father's Day – Buzz Bissinger

Let's Pretend This Never Happened – Jenny Lawson

Louise: Amended – Louise Krug

We The Animals – Justin Torres

20 Workouts in the Books

Boot Camp & HIIT x 8 sessions

Walking x 6 miles

Swimming x 3.25 miles

Cycling x 37 miles

And last but not least, I leave you with one final number:  $3,900.00.  In other words, the estimate for repairs to my 12-year-old car (and hence, the reason for today's car shopping). I hope to be driving something new by this time next week. Until then, peace out.

This is how to disappoint your fans

I'm trying to find the right words to say what I think about Augusten Burrough's new book. To say I hate it isn't quite right.

It wasn't what I expected. It wasn't what I've come to love about Augusten. I didn't realize it was a self-help book rather than a memoir. Because his memoirs are what I know, what I love, and what I crave.

His advice, on the other hand, isn't what I'm looking for. It's not that I don't need it or don't appreciate it. It's just not what he does well. What he does well is tell wonderfully dark and hilarious stories about himself. Stories that are so rich that you think they're fictional. When you find out they're real, you almost don't want to believe it. You wonder how anybody could go through half the stuff he's been through, let alone all of it. But you take it in, you revel in it, and you end up wanting more.

I want no more of the current book, and I'm kind of sad to say so. I don't mind the self-help angle as much as I mind the inane platitudes that he whips out just about every other page. They started out simple enough, and I was digging them – for example:

Resentment is anger looking for payback.

Decisions are beautiful. They are evidence of thought and care. Decisions are the polishing cloths of life.

But they just kept coming, and coming, and coming. And they started to make me angry, and I started to hate them:

Regret is the lost and found of life.

Wishing is the meal you only dreamed you ate.

Hatred is clinical-strength anger.

Rage is anger with the volume turned all the way to the right.

Need is the focused, highly fortified form of want.

Delay is a gun pointed at the temple of confidence.

Perfectionism is the satin-lined casket of creativity and originality.

Shame is a foot that grinds glee into the dirt.

And I had to stop reading the book. I'm going to return it to the library tomorrow. I think I'll go read Dry again, because I don't like this irritated feeling I have toward Augusten Burroughs and I want it to go away.

And so it begins

I left my job today. On purpose. 

I'm calling it a self-imposed, self-funded, self-nurturing sabbatical.

I'm a little excited, a little scared, and still unsure of what my next steps will be. 

But mostly, I'm just really happy to begin this adventure. I don't know where it will take me and I don't know where it will end, and that's the best part of the whole sordid thing.

How it came to be

I've been working a contract position for the past six months, filling in for an employee who was out on maternity leave.  Before that, I was with my previous company for 14 years. The 14-year company had layoffs last October and, just like that, I was out of a job.  I was lucky to find my current (or past, as of about three hours ago) contract job just a few weeks after the layoffs, and I immediately fell into a really good groove with the new company.  I knew it would be a temporary groove, because my contract was only slated to run for six months, but I made the most of it.

It was fun. Creative. Low-stress. 9 to 5. No weekends and no laptop to lug home. In other words, it was a dream come true and a 180 degree turn from what I'd been doing up to this point.

And today, I'm done and I'm moving on.

The reality was that my work had wrapped up, maternity employee returned and I handed all of the reigns back to her capable hands. They asked me to stay. They wanted to keep me. I said thank you very much, but I'm going on sabbatical.

I said I'll call you in the fall.

Because, come on -- how often do you get to say that, and how often does anyone get to take real time off? I'm talking more than a weekend here or a week there. I'm talking about taking the next four months off, and just seeing where it takes me. I don't have the answer to that question right now, but I've got some good ideas. My ideas aren't grandiose like I think most people expect to hear.  Maybe my ideas will evolve in time, and I expect that they will.


But for now, I have small goals. I want to unwind. I want to take road trips. I want to exercise more. I want to learn something new. I want to go camping. I want to swim and ride my bike.  I want to cook. I want to write.


And the best part is -- there's just no time like the present to dive right in. So dive I shall, and I'll wait to see where exactly this leap takes me.