An exercise in memory and education

Sometimes when I get bored I like to hit the "random" button on blog sites and see what pops up.  This is how I discovered idontbelieveingrammar.  I seriously love this blog and can often relate to how the author writes.  I often repost her blog entries on my social media pages, and if I've missed a few posts I always find time to actually catch up and read what I've missed.

Tonight was a catch up night.  And she didn't disappoint.  As a high school teacher, idontbelieveingrammar was reflecting on a book she read recently that invited students to review their educational experience.  idontbelieveingrammar is embarking on a similar reflection and I liked the idea so much I decided to do the same.  So here, in a nutshell, is what I remember from...

Kindergarten

My family had just moved to London, Ontario, and I was starting French Immersion school.  I attended Lord Roberts and my teacher was Rachelle LePage - a Quebecoise.  I was thrilled that my teacher had the same name as me, and I was in love with my first day of school outfit - a black dress with Bambi and Thumper stitched on the bottom.

I remember learning a song about a mouse on a grey carpet, making a paper mache' easter egg, and bringing a praying mantis in for show and tell.  I remember my teacher making us a haunted house and taking us each through it individually... I was scared and thrilled all at once.  She used black garbage bags to make the walls and had string all over for spiderwebs... there were grapes and spaggetti and I felt soooo grown up being allowed to go in it.

There was a bathroom in the coatroom attached to our classroom.  One day my friend Jillian and I hid in the coatroom pretending to shoot at people outside.  A police car pulled up and we instantly transitioned into cops and robbers, at which point our teacher discovered us and gave us a pretty stern talking to.  Turned out the police officer was coming to our class to talk to us about safety, but Jillian and I thought he was there because we were in trouble.

I remember learning about colours combining to make new colours using play-doh and incredible story telling.  I was so excited to bring home my sample pieces and take my parents through the lesson... and they dutifully acted as though they never ever knew that yellow and blue made green when you mix them together.  My parents rock.

My school would provide periodic extra curricular classes we could sign up for, and I desperately wanted to take karate.  Unfortunately it filled up before I could get in and I had to settle for some much lesser activity.

I don't remember learning French in any formal capacity except for the word papillon (butterfly)... Mme. Rachelle kept trying to illustrate to us what the word meant and we stared at her blankly until someone exclaimed "ohhhh!!!! her hands are a butterfly!!"

The story behind one of your scars.

I have a very faint scar on my left elbow.  When I was about 7 years old I was an insane daredevil.  I would climb any tree, fence, rock, you name it.  I used to stand on our 2nd floor balcony and fantasize about being able to swing off it and land on my feet in the grass below.  I was convinced if the cat could do it I should be able to too.  Luckily my parents kept a close eye on me and so I didn't ever get the chance to try it out.

My bike was a different story.  Mum and Dad would allow me to go all the way around the block all day if I wanted to, without them having to come with me.  Our block came complete with speed bumps... which for me and my buddies meant a launching pad.  One time mum and dad were out and our cousin was babysitting.  She let me go out to ride my bike and hit speeds previously not attained (by me).  I hit one of the speed bumps on the corner and was airborne... except my body and bike decided to go in opposite directions.  I went flying about 6 feet and hit the pavement elbows first.  Both elbows and both knees got scraped up beyond recognition and I had crazy scabs for weeks afterward.  My cousin heard my screams from all the way down the street and came running... she tried to patch me up the best she could but I'm sure I didn't make it easy on her, it hurt so bad.

Ever since then I've been more subdued.  I'd still ride my bike, but wouldn't push so hard to fly.  I'm sure there's a metaphor in there somewhere and I'm sure I have gone about things in the wrong manner, but it's been over 20 years and I still have the scar.  It may be teeny, it may be faded, and at times I think it's finally gone away, but it's still there as a reminder to me that it's ok to dream, but sometimes it's important to stay rooted as well.

What turns you off?

one of the quickest things that can turn me off to an individual is blatant discrimination.  If someone I'm speaking with makes any kind of derogatory remark about someone based on a factor they can't control (race, religion, gender, sexuality, etc etc) I find myself instantly looking for ways to get out of the conversation and not speak with that person anymore.

Another is complete self-absorption.  By this I mean those people who are simply incapable of NOT steering every single thing you say back to them.  They're the "one-uppers" as Scrubs once referred to it.  Anything you say they have to comment, one-up you, or use the phrase "oh yeah, like this one time when this other thing happened to me..." I'm all for listening, and I usually enjoy learning about other people's lives, but you know what?  It's not ALWAYS about you, and quite frankly, I don't believe that you partied on Toby Keith's tour bus when he was in town, or that you slept with three girls at that party, because you are far too annoying for anyone to want to spend that much time with you.  Seriously, get over yourself.

First book/movie/song that moved you

So we're gonna skip over the photo taken 10 years ago because I just don't know where anything is right now my office is a complete disaster... again.

The first book that I can recall moving me was Island of the Blue Dolphins.

First movie I recall moving me was Wild Hearts Can't Be Broken... I bawled my eyes out along with all the other girls at my very first sleep over.

First song that moved me was Tangled Up Puppet by Harry Chapin.  This is also the song I danced to with my daddy at my wedding.

Overwhelmed

I think I've mentioned before that I've had a rough past 2 years.  I was laid off from a dream job, I spent a year and a half maneuvering the stresses that come with planning a wedding and getting married and starting a life together with someone you've never lived with (all good, but still stress), I had to come to terms with the fact that I currently am forced to live WELL outside my means just to get the bills paid, I moved out of my parent's house, we adopted 2 kittens, my husband is occasionally responsible for a hell demon (dog), and I've had more job lead let-downs then I care to admit.  Oh yeah, and I decided to throw grad school into the mix, just for fun.

While I've had a lot of good things happen in my life the last two years (remember the part where I got married!) the past few weeks the stress has been getting to me.  A lot.  I've been feeling a lot of pressure because of our financial situation, I've been feeling increasingly demotivated and down right depressed on the job front, and the hell demon has been around a little more frequently than usual.  My husband tries to be supportive but is unfortunately often just blissfully unaware of how these life forces are impacting me, and I can only complain to him so much before he thinks I'm just chronically miserable.

Yesterday I did something unprecedented.  I took a deliberate day off.  I planned it ahead of time, I informed my family that I was unavailable for the day, I made no plans with friends, and I got my most pressing tasks handled the day before.  I took one entire day to only do what I felt like doing.  I didn't limit myself.  I borrowed a car so I would have transportation should I choose to go out, I didn't make a list of things I wanted to do, or things I should avoid, I simply spent the day doing exactly and only what I felt like doing.  It was amazing.  I slept in without feeling guilty, I snuggled with my kitties, I ate whatever sounded good, I did a little shopping, I sat by the pool, I watched some tv, I read, I wrote, and I spent some time cleaning my kitchen the cooking in it.  When my husband got home from work, he invited me to go to a bbq at his friends house and I really debated whether or not *I* felt like going, or if I was inclined to go because he wanted me to.  I ultimately decided to go, but brought stuff to do on my own if their conversation or activities wasn't going the way I felt like.  It was an awesomely freeing day.

Except for one searing moment.

I was out doing some shopping for a few household items I kept putting off looking for, and I saw an older man out on the side of the road, holding a sign that read "Family hungry. Please Help. Will work."  I was starting at him as I sat at my red light, willing there to be cash in my wallet to maybe at least give him a dollar if I had it... even though we don't have enough in the bank to pay all of our bills before my next unemployment check comes in.  The truck in front of me beeped at him and someone handed some cash out the window, so I felt better.

Until a little later.

Headed home (by another route) I came across a somewhat younger man with the same sign.  I am assuming they were a father and son.  I didn't have any cash, I didn't have any food, and I couldn't afford to hire him to do any made up work I may be able to come up with.  And I lost it.  I cried the whole way home, and I wasn't even sure why at first.  I began to force myself to consider where this emotional outburst was coming from (thanks to many years spent in therapists offices, and being friends with therapists...) and realised it was part fear that we may not be far off from those men in our own situation, and part the most complete sense of relief and gratitude I have felt in a very long time.  Relief that it wasn't me standing out there relying on the grace of God and strangers to get me to my next meal, and grateful that we have what little it feels like we do have: a roof over our heads, food in our cupboards, and a vehicle to get my husband back and forth to work each day.

I felt completely overwhelmed by the whole experience, and I'm still processing the emotions it stirred up for me, but I felt driven to share it here.  Take it for whatever it may mean to you, and I sincerely hope those men were able to feed their family that night.

Long-Term Illnesses

I am slowly becoming more active in the world of blogging, and have started following a number of blogs that are written by people I don't know.  Recently I came across a blog and the first entry I read was quite profound.  It dealt with one woman's account of how suicide had impacted her life, and how (5 years later) it continues to impact her life.  It immediately made me think about my mother.  My mum is still alive and well, she did not commit suicide, but for the last 8 years she has been battling a very rare illness which shut down her entire central nervous system, leaving her numb in 98% of her body, and unable to control her own motor skills.  That's how she was when the virus first took hold of her.  Today, if you met her you probably wouldn't even be able to tell there was anything wrong with her despite the fact that she hasn't yet reached a full recovery.

My mum is hands down the strongest woman I know.  After 9 grueling months of hospitalizations, painful tests and physical, spiritual and emotional turmoil, the doctors finally presented her with the closest thing they could get to a diagnosis of her condition (it's a super long medical term that I would never get right so I won't even bother).  It's literally a one-in-a-million case, and the best they can tell is it's a virus that attacks the nervous system, and they have no idea where it came from, why she got it, or if it will ever go away entirely, or even come back if it does.  My mother didn't bat an eye, she simply asked "how do I get better?"  The last 8 years have been hell for her.  She had to relearn everything, from walking to driving to tying her shoes.  Her brain was not effected by the virus, so intellectually she knew how to do everything, she just couldn't get her body to do what it was supposed to do, which at it's best was frustrating and at it's worse infuriating and overwhelmingly upsetting.  Simple tasks like getting out of bed in the morning and walking to the bathroom were impossible without help.  It was years before she could even manage to put on her own earrings.

I was still doing my undergrad when this all happened, and so I was away for the very worst of it.  Daily doctor and therapy appointments, weekly tests and evaluations, constant driving back and forth, constant fighting with insurance claims and constant worrying... will she get better? will it be like this for the rest of our lives?  how will we ever afford all of these medical bills?  I would come home when I could, on weekends, and do what I felt I could, which wasn't much.  Usually cleaning the house, buying massive quantities of food and cooking until every dish in the house was dirty.  I would portion out meals and freeze them so that at least when my parents and brother finally got home from long days and late nights they could eat a decent meal.  I was very detached from the situation for a long time, even though I had the conversations and I saw her every few weeks, I will never understand quite the level of sacrifice my dad and brother had to make for her during that first year and a half.

When I moved back home after graduation, the reality of mum's condition began to set in for me.  Her energy was almost nonexistent.  She was constantly exhausted from PT, OT, what little work she was up to, and just keeping up with her insane schedule of doctors appointments.  Her medicine cabinet was overflowing with pills and supplements she was taking, and every meal was a lesson in patience as we counted out the pills she needed to take, and helped cut up her food because she couldn't manage the silverware quite right yet.  She *could* drive again (she couldn't for over a year) but often still didn't because she was so tired, so we were all driving a LOT to get her where she needed to go.  During all of this, I can only remember about 3 times when I saw her break down and give in to the despair that came with the frustration and uncertainty of what was happening to her.  3 times in 8 years... that's simply unreal.


I kept thinking about how I would have handled something like this happening to me... I can't imagine waking up one morning and not being able to feel my hands, or not being able to get my feet to support my weight.  I can't imagine enduring what my mother had to endure day after day after day.  It was a few years before she could even walk through the grocery story without help... years of wheelchairs, walkers, canes and motorised carts... errands took 5 times longer because we had to keep pace with her, and she had to take frequent breaks.  And yet she almost never complained.  In fact, she spent a whole lot of time apologising to us for being such a burden.  I used to get so angry when she would do that because after all, she's my mother.  She could never be a burden.  She spent 20 years taking care of me, how could I not help take care of her when she needed us?

My mother's experience changed my life in so many ways, but I think one of the most important things it did for me was open my eyes to the lives of those who suffer from long term illnesses.  So often we hear of someone who is suffering from some disease or another, sometimes relatively short ones, sometimes life long ones.  When the news first arrives we shower them with love, cards, flowers, affection, fruit baskets, offers of help, etc.  It takes about a month.  Sometimes 2 or 3, for that to stop.  People start to forget that you're sick.  Or they don't know how else to help.  Or they are afraid to try and understand what you're going through.  Or whatever other excuses are out there.  The ones who carry the heaviest loads are the family and closest friends, the next door neighbour who is willing to check in every hour to see if you need help getting to the bathroom because your son is at school and your husband had to go into the office at least one day this week so he wouldn't lose his job.  The friend who calls you up to see if you feel up to going shopping just even for 15 minutes because she knows you've been cooped up in the house for 3 weeks with no real escape.  The husband who nearly kills himself with neglect because he is so focused on meeting your every need that he is willing to give up everything to make you better.  The boss who continues to find ways of getting you medical leave extensions, or sends home small tasks you can handle at home so that you don't lose your pay or insurance.  The nurse who keeps meticulous notes of each visit so that even the slightest change in symptoms can be tracked and analyzed to find the best treatments.  The therapists who begin keeping a pad and pen on their nightstand so when they wake up at night or in the morning with new ideas for treating you they can write them down immediately.  The doctor who sits at the edge of your hospital bed, takes your hand and promises that God will help us all figure this out and beat it.


I have learned so much from my mother over these last 8 years.  I have grown so close to her, and shared so much with her, and I am so proud of how hard she has fought.  I got married last fall and not only was she able to walk down the aisle with my brother, she did it wearing heels... something she thought she would never be able to wear again.  Our family has grown much stronger and closer as a result of her illness, but we have also learned to be a million times more patient with people, and with life.  I have learned that when someone is going through a long-term illness, that sending a card when you first hear the news isn't enough.  You have to keep sending the cards, keep making the phone calls, keep offering the rides or the groceries or the laundry or whatever you have that you can give... because sometimes those first 3 months are actually the easiest... it's the next 7.5 years that are so brutal.


Everyone is different, that is for sure, but I've found that many people suffering from long-term illnesses are desperate to make sense of it, and sometimes that sense comes in helping others understand it, or in trying to be an example and inspiration to others.  My mum often shares with others about her experiences and how they have effected her, in hopes that it will open their eyes to people in new ways, or if they are also suffering that it may act as support and encouragement for them.


We don't know if my mum will ever be 100% recovered, but I do know that this illness will never ever defeat her... and for that I not only thank God, but I pray that her story can bring light and hope to others out there who are facing a lifetime of uncertainty like she has.

A trait you deplore in others.

Hypocrisy and blatant discrimination.  Hands down.  I have no tolerance for it.  I work very hard to not practice it myself and hate if I get called out for doing so without realising it.  I could go into far more detail, but I'm in too good a mood today to start a rant that will lead to frustration :o)

Celebrity crush.

Talk about revealing lol... here we go...

My first celebrity crush that I can remember was Dante Basco... better known as Rufio from the movie Hook.  My friends and I used to watch the movie over and over and chant "Rufi oooooooooo" along with the lost boys.  We'd bawl when he dies. (oops, spoiler alert lol).  When I looked him up on IMDB for a current photo, he's still damn hot.  I may have to renew this celebrity crush...

 

 My Next big crushes were pretty simultaneous as I hit teenagerdom... Howie Dorough from the Backstreet Boys, and Peter Andre.  Yes, I had a serious, SERIOUS boy band phase.

(Howie when the crush started)

(Howie now)

(Peter when crush started)

(Peter more currently)

My BIGGEST celebrity crush is Bon Jovi... hands down.  I love his music and he is soooooooooo hot.  Hot hot hot.  Also I love his music.  Also he's hot.

I also have some mad girl celeb crushes... mostly from the wonderful world of Joss Whedon :o)
Check out these hotties... Eliza Dushku & Alyson Hannigan

(Eliza as Faith on Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel)

(Aly as Willow, also on Buffy and Angel)

Of course my most current (and most soul devouring) celeb crush is my husband... Austin Scott ;o)  When I first met him, I had no idea about anything at all country.  We actually had to have a conversation a few months after we started dating where he said "hon, if you hear a song I sing on the radio... it's not mine... it's the original that I cover" because he got tired of me getting all excited about "some other band playing your song!" lol... he is my everything and I love him.  And he's got the talent to be something huge someday... just you watch!  And listen.  Please.  He's on iTunes :o)

What you dislike most about your appearance.

I have a fake tooth.  When I was younger, one of my front teeth was smaller than the others, and a little misshapen, and the orthodontist we had in the Netherlands convinced my folks that we needed to pull it and use my braces to shift my teeth over to fill in the gap.  When we moved to the US our new ortho said that was a terrible idea and shifted my teeth back to recreate the gap.  We couldn't afford a permanent fix (and I'm really scared of getting an implant even if I could afford it) so I have a fake tooth that I wear on a retainer.  Most people have no idea it's fake, no one ever asks what's up with my tooth, but to me it's noticeable and I'm really self conscious of it.  There was a time my retainer got destroyed and I had to get a new one.  It took three days and I would not go into work without it, so I had to work from home (thankfully I had an understanding boss at the time).  I have been late to appointments and meetings because I ran out the door with so much on my mind that I forgot to put my retainer in, and upon realising it had to turn around and go home to get it.  It took me a long time before my husband ever saw me without my retainer, and even then I was really embarrassed for a long time if he happened to see me without it in.

Someday I hope to conquer my lack of funding and my fear and get an implant as a permanent fix, but in the meantime, I continue to pray nothing happens to this retainer (at least until I get insurance again!) and that no one makes fun of my silly tooth... or lack thereof should they ever somehow see me without my retainer in!

Something that really bugs you.

I read and write a lot.  My academic background involved probably more of each of these tasks than most people (barring maybe lit majors), and I'll admit I'm a bit of a snob about it.  That being said, few things grate on my nerves more than really poor writing.  I can be tolerant of the whole text/web writing phenomenon like "where u @?" or "nm l8r" I even use some of that language myself occasionally to an extent.  What I'm referring to is more along the lines of blatant typos.  Come on, web browsers even underline misspelled words now, so there's really no excuse.  Also, using the wrong version of a word.  This is *especially* true when I see it in professional writing.  For example, I just read a facebook posting from Amnesty International that was questioning the "roll of the United States in Pakistan".  The more common offenses are "your vs you're" and "their, they're, there".

It may be superficial of me, but honestly I feel like poor spelling and grammar make for an unprofessional image.  In some cases it can also just make you look dumb (I finally had to message a friend of mine that "texting" language did NOT mean you could just leave every single vowel out of your message because it got to the point where I literally couldn't figure out what the crap he was trying to say).  So basically when I find these glaring errors in other people's writing it bugs me.  I know I'm not perfect, I've found the occasional typo or spelling error myself in my own stuff (even this blog) but in general, just stop it already.  Seriously.

Something that scares you.

Well I'm as good at keeping current on this as any other blog endeavour I start... good thing I didn't expect to actually get to it every single day... but since the blog I stole it from has gotten to this point in her list, it's time for me to keep up with the Jones'... or Browns if you will :o)

I don't even have to think twice about this one.  Death is the number one thing that scares me.  Which is almost odd because I don't consider myself to be a fearful person, nor do I often think things like "better not do that it's dangerous I could die"... in fact, death rarely crosses my mind in any realistic capacity.  I have friends and family that almost died on various occasions and the gravity of their situations never hit me until years later, at the time I was just sure they'd pull through so it wasn't even an issue in my mind.

I'm also a little obsessed with death.  I adore vampire shows, movies, novels... I think ghost stories are fascinating, I am undecided on my stance on the authenticity of mediums and the like because part of me really wants to believe that when we die that isn't necessarily the end.  I was raised Christian which means I "should" believe that we go to heaven when we die, but I don't believe in hell, and I'm not really convinced "heaven" is a physical space we all go hang out in a non corporeal form.  I have no idea, and I don't think any of us will ever know for sure until we actually die.  Maybe that's what's so scary to me.  I do know that when someone I care about dies, they stop being around for me.  And I may be selfish but damn it that upsets me.  I don't like people leaving me, especially not when I have no idea if I will ever see them in any form ever again ever.

I love cemeteries, especially old ones.  I love hearing about people's weird and unexplained experiences where they believe they've been visited from someone who has died.  I myself have had one extremely emotional and very not-like-me experience that convinced me my grandmother was reaching out to me even though she had passed away several years prior.

The weird thing (I think) that scares me about death is that the thought of loved ones dying is as scary to me as the thought of me dying.  Maybe that means I'm really just afraid of being separated from loved ones, but the nurturer in me can't stand the idea of leaving those I love behind to grieve my loss and not being able to comfort them.  Of course if I was around to comfort them they wouldn't be grieving my loss, I know this makes no sense, but that's the thing about fear, it's often more than a touch irrational.

So there you go.  Sarah your move :o) 

Last time you had to apologize to someone.

So this time I've honestly been holding off because I couldn't remember the last time I had to apologise for anything that was worth posting about... and then the other day my husband got pretty upset with me because he felt I was being overly critical for an extended period of time.  I can sometimes be guilty of this, because he is such a dreamer, I feel it's my responsibility to bring him back down to reality, but I've been known to do so a little too often at times, which can then be taken (and fairly so) as just being plain negative.  It's never my intention, and I'm always relieved when he actually calls me on it (he hates confrontation and it can be like pulling teeth to get him to tell me what's bugging him sometimes) so that I can correct myself.  So the other night I found myself apologising sincerely for making him feel so bummed out because I was being way too critical and not giving him enough room to dream.

Last time you cried.

I wouldn't consider myself a cry baby, but I'm also not emotionless.  I cry with relative frequency, it helps me process.  The last time I cried was last week, and actually I think it was just a release.  I had made dinner for Austin & I, enjoyed dinner and as we were cleaning up I turned to him and said "I have no idea why but I kind of feel like crying right now, so if you turn around and I'm crying, I'm not sad"  Sure enough about 20 minutes later I had tears sliding down my face.  It only lasted a few minutes, but it there it was nonetheless.

Favorite smells.

Pretty much anytime something is cooking the kitchen I love it.  The smell of a home cooked meal is hard to beat.


I'm also addicted to this candle my mother in law bought me, it's Eucalyptus Mint and it is AWESOME.


The smell of a campfire is also amazing...

European Nostalgia

This post is not a part of the "post-a-day" list.  I follow another blog that occasionally posts these great playlists.  I loved the idea but couldn't for the life of me figure out how to do it.  Tonight on my way home from school a remix of an old No Mercy song came on the radio and I just about flipped out.  I was instantly transported through space and time to a McDonalds' drive thru in Rotterdam where my friend Joey and I were ordering Big Mac meals in order to get a free No Mercy single of their newest hit.  (remember when bands released singles AND we bought them on discs?!)


As soon as the song ended I had to bust out my phone and start YouTubing other songs (at stop signs and red lights of course) to play over and over again until I got home.  There was no option, I had to figure out how to post a freaking playlist.  And I did.  Now I bring you, Rachel's Euro-Nostalgia playlist... a collection of my all time favourite artists and songs from my time in the Netherlands.  I was also a huge Backstreet Boys fan at the time, but I tried to restrict the list to European bands or bands that never ever made it in the US.


You may think it's lame, you may hate every song on it, you probably won't be able to understand all of them (the beauty of Euro-playlists is any language goes!) but it is super meaningful to me, and at this exact moment in my life, it is beyond exactly what I needed.  So enjoy some exposure to MY culture!!!!

Your worst hair moment (if you skip this one, it’s totally cool).

Skip this one?  I'm braver than that!  We've all had bad hair days.  We've all had bad hair cuts.  Usually we look back on things that we thought were soooo cool at the time with absolute horror.  My worst hair moment was just as bad at the time as it is to look back on.  I wanted short hair.  For awhile I had short hair that was really cute.  Then mum took me in for a trim and we ended up with a stylist other than the one we normally went to.  This stylist was apparently stupid.  Or deaf.  But I'm pretty sure stupid.  Even though I was introduced as the "daughter" and my name was "Rachel", she thought I was a boy.  It wasn't until she pulled out the shaver that mum realised what was happening and all but physically yanked me out of the chair herself.  I had boy hair, and I was 8 years old.  Awesome.

Mum felt awful and wanted to try and salvage it so we went to a new stylist who suggested a perm (which was still acceptable for the decade lol)... which resulted in this:

 yeah... bask in that for awhile.  Then move on the the track suit and fanny pack.  You're welcome.

Something you crave.

I often crave carbs... pasta, rice, cereal, bread... if I have a (food) craving it's most often some form of this.  I also often crave sushi, because it's delicious, and because I can't afford to eat it even half as often as I like.

On a non-food level, I am currently craving acceptance.  I have been hunting for full time employment for over a year now, and it feels like everytime I get my hopes up about a position I interview for, they come crashing down around me.  It's so frustrating because the most frequent reason I get for them not choosing me is "you're just overqualified so we went with someone else"  I have been very selective in my search, trying to find companies that I intend to stick with for a long time, so to have them turn down someone who is interested in being a long-term player because they are in fact better than what they were looking for just blows my mind.  Do they think I'm lying to them?  Do they not believe me when I tell them that I'm not a salary or title chaser?  It's soooo frustrating.

I have always been a pretty confident person.  I was raised to believe in myself and my skills, and I have lived a life that has fostered that confidence.  I've failed plenty, but I guess I'm usually just pretty good at learning from failure and growing from it, but even my once rock solid self confidence is beginning to quake.  And so I crave acceptance.  It's bleeding into every aspect of my life... I need my family to tell me how helpful I am, I need my husband to constantly shower me with affection and gratitude for all I do around the house or to help with his music career, I need my friends to continuously bolster my ego and tell me that perfect job is right around the corner.  I need employers to stop telling me how awesome I am and SHOW me by giving me a chance to rock the job.  As a pretty fiercely independent individual, I struggle deeply with feeling so emotionally dependent on others right now.  I hate feeling like I have to have their approval and admiration in order to feel good about myself.  And yet I'm caught in this web and don't quite know how to get out of it.

Ugh.

A photo from your childhood.

Something you’re thankful for.

Today I am thankful for good friends who don't give up on us!  Austin and I try hard to maintain our friendships with people, but sometimes individuals get left behind for awhile.  Never intentionally, but sometimes it happens.  I am always so thankful when they don't take it personally and we are able to pick up where we've left off.  This morning, just as we were deciding what we should do with our day, the phone rang and our friend Jacob said "I'm not too far from you guys, are you busy?"  It resulted in a wonderful visit and we were so glad he came!

Your favorite teacher.

This one is even easier than the "photo of me without makeup" subject!  My favourite teacher of all time was Mr. Tirolese (Mr. T as we usually called him) in Grade Four.  He's Italian, plays guitar and has a great sense of humour.  I do not recall why I knew I wanted him as my teacher that year, but I remember that I emphatically did, and when we went to school on the first day, his line was the first one I went to, desperately hoping my name would be on his roster.  He turned around and my parents introduced themselves, and he looked right at me and said something along the lines of "yes! Rachel! You're part of us!" I was elated!  That year ended up being a difficult year for me as it was the year my family found out we would be moving to the Netherlands.  My folks left for 2 weeks for a go-see trip, and I bawled my eyes out in the hallway.  Mr T helped calm me down then gave me things to work on that morning that would let me stay out of the mainstream while I pulled myself together.

Mr. Tirolese was awesome at keeping in touch with me over the years, and has become a good friend.  In fact, he and his wife attended my wedding last year, and over the holidays my family and I were able to stay with them on our way up to celebrate the van Rossum family Christmas in Cambridge.  It's been awesome having such a great role model in my life who has also become a good friend.  Best. Teacher. Ever.

Best Christmas present you ever got.

This one is a toughie, because I have friends and family who are quite simply AWESOME gift givers!  I think one of the very best Christmas presents I ever got was a ring my parents bought me several years ago.  I had just ended a very serious relationship and was struggling.  They bought me a ring that was a custom piece meant to be a mini replica of an anniversary ring my father had given my mother.  As a young teenager I had often asked to see that ring, and put it on my own hand (even though it was too big for my finger) and counted the stones and just admired it.  When they got me the ring, they told me is was meant to be a reminder of how much my family loves me, even when I'm hurting.  It meant so much to me.  I go in phases wearing it, often times wearing it for months on end, then leaving it in the jewelry box for months before putting it back on, but whenever I do, I'm reminded of that love and support, and it always gives me a really great feeling inside.

Your favourite thing right now.

My favourite thing right now is probably my kitties.  I get bored and lonely a lot because I tend to spend most days cooped up in our apartment waiting for my husband to come home.  Not that I don't have things I do, but I don't get out as much as I'm used to, and that can be very isolating.  Our kitties keep me company and keep me severely entertained.  Sure, sometimes I want to throw them out on the landing in a time out for awhile, but usually they're snuggly, warm, affectionate and very fun to be around.  Smudge has really warmed up to the kittens and the three of them will play and snuggle and chase each other all over the apartment, which is hilarious to watch when they don't almost break things in doing so...!

15 Facts about you.

1.  I legally hold 3 citizenships.  I am Canadian by birth, and have both American and Dutch citizenships (since birth) because of my parents.  The laws changed after my brother was born, and we were both grandfathered in, which means as of yet none of our passport renewals have been rejected.

2.  I have a fear and fascination with death.  I am terrified of the idea of dying and leaving my loved ones behind, and equally terrified of them leaving me, yet I am fascinated by the unknown.  Because of this I have a deep love for horror films and things that deal with death and the undead.

3.  I don't want to go back to work.  I have been unemployed for over a year now, and if there was a way I could become wealthy enough to never HAVE to work again, I would.  I like having my freedom but I hate not knowing if we will be able to make it another 6 months on our savings.  If the bills were paid without me being gainfully employed, I would probably spend more time on projects that I'm passionate about instead of worrying about the pay that does or doesn't come with it.  I think I'd do a lot of pro bono event planning for non profits.

4.  I love to travel.  I got super spoiled in my last job because I got to travel A LOT on the company dime.  Since I got laid off trips are far fewer and less extravagant.  Thankfully there was a little bit of carryover after my layoff in that I had accumulated enough airmiles to afford a great honeymoon with my husband (also thanks to the generosity of some dear friends!)  I have a list as long as my arm of the places I would still like to visit before I die... the top 3 of which are Australia/New Zealand, South Africa and New Orleans.

5.  I hate my metabolism.  I was blessed with a high one, which means I can eat anything I want and sit on my butt all day and not gain a pound.  It may seem ungrateful to some, but I hate it because it sets me up for bad eating habits and a complete lack of motivation to stay fit.  I'm in terrible shape and I have inexcusably high cholesterol for someone my age and size, yet the lack of physical signs of that in my outward appearance make it way too easy to forget and just keep on eating whatever, no matter how unhealthy it is.  Not that I want to be fat, but if eating like crap made me put on even 10 lbs I bet I'd make better choices.

6.  I am the crazy cat lady.  I LOVE kitties.  If I could keep panthers and tigers and mountain lions as pets I totally would.  3 is my limit as far as household pets, that keeps me busy enough and the expenses are still manageable, but if I had unlimited resources and unrestricted space I'd have a dozen I'm sure.  I would love to be a position someday to foster kitties for a rescue agency while they wait for new homes.

7.  I love unconditionally.  In any relationship I have with another person, I have three modes.  Hatred, indifference and love.  Some people don't get that about me.  They think if we've hung out once and I act like we're best friends that I'm being inauthentic, but if we hit it off, then I definitely hold them in high esteem and have deep emotional ties to them until they prove that they aren't worthy of that.  In romantic relationships I have had my heart literally smashed to smithereens over and over because I simply don't know how to hold back when it comes to love.  I don't mean I'm a smothering psycho, but I love deeply, wholly, and unconditionally.  Until you prove you aren't worthy.  My serious relationships that ended prior to meeting my husband did so in a single instant when something occurred that irrevocably told me that guy wasn't the one.  In both cases I can name the instant, it's like a lightswitch in me or something.  Up until that second, however I loved them completely.  I am capable of loving many people very deeply (not romantically) and sometimes people don't get that.  I don't care, I have been blessed with incredibly rich friendships because of it.

8.  I believe that all human beings are equally deserving of love, respect and dignity.  Discrimination based on anything outside of a personality trait bothers me beyond words.  If you are a jerk to me, I get to discriminate against you in my own way.  If you are gay, asian, autistic, rich, methodist, communist, whatever, that is no basis for treating someone any differently or with any less decency or respect as a human.  I find it absurd that others think this is acceptable.  I don't have to agree with your thought process or opinions, but I do not get to discount you as a person.

9.  I don't know how I would cope without my cell phone and the internet for prolonged periods of time.

10.  I get lonely when my husband goes to work.  Even if I'm being social or hanging out with friends or family, I miss him a lot during the day.

11.  Sometimes I feel like a fake.  I do things pretty well and I'm a quick study, but my year long job search has made me feel less and less confident in my skills and ability.  I worry that maybe I've just been getting by so well because people liked me.  My educational background isn't in the field I was working in (not exactly) or in the field I wish to work in (though my masters is more in that field so I'm working on it) and that has been a barrier for me in a lot of the positions I've applied for.  Sometimes I feel like now that I'm in the spotlight (with employers when I apply for positions) that they can see I've just been faking it all along and they don't want me.  In my head I know that's not true, and I do work hard and I am smart, but as time wears on it takes it's toll on my self confidence.

12.  I place a huge value on family.  Having grown up moving around so much, my family was the only constant in my life for almost all of my life so far.  As such, when things feel shaky in my family I panic.  When my mum got sick, when my dad changed careers, when I feel like the stability in my family is threatened in any way (real or imagined) I freak out.  I'm pretty good at hiding it (not healthy, I know this, I'm working on it) but it tends to throw me into overdrive in doing everything I can to "fix" things.

13.  I speak 4 languages.  English and French have been my staples, I became fluent in Dutch when we moved to Rotterdam, and I can get by in German.  I've studied Italian and desperately want to master Spanish but I haven't been able to work up the motivation to study it on my own.

14.  I love to cook.  If it weren't for the types of hours and stress associated with the food industry I would consider becoming a chef.  I love food, and I can't wait until finances allow me to go back to taking classes at culinary school for fun.  I have a chef's jacket and a knife bag and I use them all the time.  I love to go grocery shopping and to try out new techniques and recipes, I love learning how to use new ingredients and developing my palette and new flavour profiles.  90% of the time I would rather have friends over for dinner than go out to eat with them because it gives me an excuse to try something new.

15.  I want to move back to Canada.  The world is my home it seems, but lately I've been pining for my Canadian roots again.  My husband and I have discussed it in passing before and he's open to the idea, but I'm scared of uprooting us right now, and I'm scared of doing it without my family.  All of my big moves were always with them, and the thought of leaving them so far behind isn't something I'm prepared to face yet.  So here we stay, but I hope someday I will get to move back.

Something that makes you sad.

I wish I had something really profound to share for this topic, but the one thing that jumps to mind instantly is quite simply the loss of my Uncle Jim last August.  I have posted and re-posted the Tribute I wrote to him after his death, and I read it probably almost once a week still.  I write to his widow every month, I miss him terribly.  I have lost 3 of my grandparents in my life so far, and Uncle Jim's seems to outweigh them all (not that I didn't love my grandparents, I've just been much closer to Uncle Jim growing up).  Knowing that I'll never get to hug him again, sit down and have a great religious or philosophical discussion with him, or watch Aunt Pat roll her eyes at his bout of silliness breaks my heart over and over.  I'm making my peace with his death, but it still makes me so sad.  I miss him.

Last item you purchased.

thank you, blog-of-the-day list, for reminding me of a purchase I meant to make earlier this week.  :o)  I just ordered a table top card rack for my photography business.  I have mentioned before that I'm a photographer, and have my own business, Shutterbug Portraits & Design.  I provide event and portrait photography for my clients, and also sell my work as framed photo art, calendars and note cards.  I do a number of craft shows each year where I sell some of my stuff, and I've been looking for better display options for awhile.  I finally found a table top rack that will allow me to display my note cards much better and take up way less space on the table (something that is sacred at a craft show!)  I'm super excited to get it, as it will also help me get my inventory organised so I can tell what I do and don't have!

A photo of you without makeup.

easy enough!  I hardly ever wear makeup... even when I was working every day I hardly wore it (unless I woke up looking particularly exhausted...!) so most photos of me are me wearing no makeup.  I stepped it up for this one though... no makeup, still in pjs, no contacts AND unwashed/unbrushed hair.  Oh and I didn't brush my teeth yet either.  Mostly I took this one coz I had zero photos of ME with our new kittens at this point (still only have a couple, way more of Austin with them!)  I don't have anything against makeup, I wish I was better at using it, but I'm a pretty low-maintenance girl... I like to wash and wear so makeup doesn't tend to fit into that routine too well :o)

Talent you wish you had.

On a normal weekend, I'm sure I would have a different answer to this question, though on a normal weekend I'm not sure what that different answer would have been.  This weekend however, was not a normal weekend for me.  If I could have hand picked a talent to have this weekend, it would have been the talent of bending the will of any computer to my own.  I had so many technological issues this weekend... all induced by lack of time to properly set up my new hard drive, and working on a client project with a file nearing half a gig in size, which meant even the simplest action took about 35 minutes to complete.  I ended up canceling plans I had, skipping errands I meant to run, and barely managing to feed myself because I was so absorbed in the computer.

I consider myself to be an above average computer user (my brother is an IT God and would never allow me to wallow in mediocrity... by his standards of course) but some things simply can't be helped by normal IT standards... hence the wishing I had the talent to simply dominate the computer with the power of my mind.  :o)  On the bright side, nothing is broken, and this week should give me time to work on reloading all of my normal programs and files onto the new drive... thereby preventing weekends like this from happening... at least for a very long time!

Meaning behind your blog name.

The very first corporate job I ever had taught me a lot about myself.  Mostly, it taught me that I am not well suited for your typical "corporate" setting.  I don't like dress codes, I don't like sterile cubicles, I don't like people looking at you funny if you hug someone.  I consider myself to be pretty professional, but my first corporate job played a big role in teaching me that I can be my own authentic brand of professional, that I don't have to fit the cookie cutter boring suit eating salad with bottled water.  Over the course of that summer, I began defining my professional self.  That meant finding ways to dress appropriately for work and still be comfortable, it meant letting other people see that I could give them a colouring book page I'd coloured on my lunch hour AND kill it in the board room.  It also meant finding a way to sign my corporate, professional emails in a way that was authentic to me.  My standard personal sign off "Hugs" wasn't professional enough, "Sincerely Yours" was boring, "Warm Regards" was sterile, just my name was cold.  So I spent an afternoon pseudo meditating on the subject, and finally realised that if I could wish my colleagues anything, it would be happiness (many people in corporate jobs spend a lot of time looking grumpy!) and harmony (even more people in corporate jobs do NOT have enough balance in their lives!).  So that became my sign off in all of my emails.  This quickly spilled into my personal correspondence, and has become my mantra ever since.  As the years progressed, those two little words have become an integral part of my personality and my "corporate self".  In fact, there are people I have come in contact with who remember "Happiness & Harmony" before they remember my name!

When I decided to start a blog, it was only natural that my blog would be titled "Happiness & Harmony" :o)

Last book you read.

The last book I read was The Girl Who Played With Fire by Stieg Larsson.  As a rule, I am skeptical of "overnight bestsellers" but a few of my friends talked me into reading The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, and I became obsessed with the characters.  When I was reading The Girl Who Played With Fire, I would find excuses to take 2 hour long bubble baths so I could read uninterrupted.  My husband would keep peeking in to make sure I was ok because I don't normally get to take baths and they certainly never last that long... I would actually have to rerun the water partway through so it'd be hot again :o)

I also discovered the Swedish movies based on the books, and was oddly disturbed to discover that I can somehow actually follow Swedish fairly well without reading the subtitles.  It was a very trippy experience.  I'm now halfway through The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest, and looking for opportunities to justify those 2 hour baths again :o)

Something you refuse to do

I have been considering this one all day.  I've struggled with it because I don't tend to believe in absolutes.  There are often times we may think we would never do something, and the circumstances change and there we are, doing exactly what we thought we would never do.  When it comes to refusals... I find it difficult to pinpoint something because my crazy head will almost always come up with some insane scenario where that wouldn't necessarily be true.

That being said, I think the one thing that I feel comfortable saying invariably that I now and forever will refuse to do, is to intentionally put someone I love in harm's way.  This means anything from emotional to psychological to physical harm.  I tend to be a bit of a martyr when it comes to protecting those I love... often times to my own detriment, but I absolutely go out of my way to prevent my loved ones from being harmed.  I honestly believe if someone were pointing a gun at someone I cared about, I would jump in front of it (I hope that is never tested, but it's 100% how I feel).  This probably is not a healthy thing, and probably has some deep and twisted interpretation on my self-worth, if I'm willing to die for anyone I care about... but it's who I am, and how I view the world.  When I love, I love all the way, and I don't want to see anyone I love hurting.