Dear Readers,
I recently watched a National Geographic documentary on stress. It was absolutely fascinating. Even the hippie from Berkley who has made more advances in the studies of stress then anyone else alive was fascinating to me. I learned several things, such as baboons are just as obnoxious as humans, that mother's of young or disabled children produce more stress hormones than anyone else, and that fat bellies are stress induced. But wait! There's so much more I have to tell you about this! I promise I have a point.
One thing that the smart hippie figured out, and has been proven several times over now by several scientists, is that stress causes the destruction of the cap on DNA helix's. Because I have a short memory for scientific jargon, I can't remember what the cap is called. However, it's very important, as it helps control the rate by which we age. Stress eats away at these caps like Badger girls at Thanksgiving dinner. The faster they deteriorate, the older your body becomes. So, for instance, woman with small and/or disabled children have so much stress that they are actually aging 6 years to every 1 year they live, and have a higher mortality rate at a significantly younger age than mothers of non-disabled kids. But, the hippie and scientists have found a way to combat the ill effects of stress, and actually physically slow down the breakdown of helix's and promote a less stressful lifestyle. Are your ready for this? Alright, here's the secret: compassion.
Doing good works, living the "golden rule", loving thy neighbor, and all that other crap helps to produce dopamine and serotonin as well as several other chemicals that help to rebuild the little caps that help us age at a slower rate. Remember how good it feels when you help someone out? That's because your brain recognizes that you were nice and rewards you with tasty, happy chemicals.
On a completely different note, my mother-in-law, Paula, stopped by earlier this evening. I have to say that I really lucked out when it comes to my husband's mother. She's awesome. She laughs at my jokes, enjoys eating my chocolates, loves my son more than anyone else on the planet, and doesn't yell at me for swearing in front of her. Being around Paula is like being around a good friend that I'm always happy to see. She's also very pretty, extremely kind, and has always (ALWAYS) been there for Shay, Lucas and I. Today she came over to visit and we had a great time talking and catching up a bit. Shay had mentioned some funny financial problems we've been having lately. Well, not lately. Let's just say that we're pros at being broke. But anyhow, it was just mentioned in passing and in no seriousness. Later, after Paula left, I went to give Lucas his dinner, and notice that Paula had quietly left a little financial help on the table. Upon seeing this, my heart filled with gratitude and my eyes filled with tears. It's funny because it's not even the money that matters. I hate money. Rather, it's the unassuming selfless nature of Paula wanting to help that touches my heart. And the thought crossed my mind that she probably has the youngest, healthiest DNA helix's of any one I know.
In closing, I want to have less stress. I also want to be a better person. It's so convenient that I can achieve a more peaceful life by helping others find peace as well. I don't have the means to leave gifts on coffee tables, but I do have the ability to make little differences every day. So if I see you, and I'm mean or obnoxious, just whisper in my ear that I'm starting to resemble an old hag, and somewhere inside I will find the kindness I need to hold myself back from punching you in the face.
Sincerely,
h.
9.30.2010
7.10.2010
Thirty-One? Thirty-Fun!
Dear Readers,
In a few short days, another one of my birthdays will roll around. I was telling my friend Jenny this the other day. She asked how old I would be, and I begrudgingly replied "31", which she immediately followed with, "Thirty Fun!".
Jenny's stellar rhyming abilities helped spark some happiness in my mind about getting older. I mean, why should I have to feel bad about something that I can do absolutely nothing about? And let's face it, I don't look a day over 24 (after a lot of time in front of the mirror strategically dressing myself and doing my hair and makeup). So in tribute to turning thirty-fun and to continue to feel good about where I am in life, I thought I would list 31 things that I am happy, thankful, or just generally amused with in my little life. By the way, it won't hurt my feelings if you don't want to read this. I know it seems like a journal entry my shrink would recommend.
Here it goes:
31. Having two KitchenAid mixers.
30. Knowing and understanding more about everything than anyone else.
29. Making it this far without getting a tattoo.
28. Facebook.
27. Being old enough to understand that when it comes to extended family, there's going to be some that you just don't like and that you can avoid for years at a time if you want.
26. Finding some new music interesting, but knowing in my heart of hearts that it will probably never get better than what we've had for years.
25. I can still drop it like it's hot on the dance floor.
24. That I haven't learned to play my guitar yet, but I'm going to if it's the last thing I do.
23. I still worry that no one will show up to my birthday parties, but they always do,
22. The next big thing in life I'm really looking forward to is retirement.
21. No matter how old I become, one of my favorite things to do is drink coffee and have intellectual conversations with a friend. However, the older I get, the less intellectual I become.
20. Had it not been for Aunt Ruth (not to mention Jorge, Anthony, Mike and Ana) I may not have survived my youth. She continues to be one of my very favorite people on the face of the planet, and the world is a better place for having her in it.
19. I don't need to do any sort of extreme sport anymore. Keep your mountain biking, rock climbing, and week long backpacking trips! I'd rather take a hot bath and read a book!
18. Being nice matters.
17. Knowing that you can't help someone who is not willing to help themselves.
16. I love to travel, but I hate being a tourist, and automatically hate all other tourists when traveling.
15. Understanding that even after years of them being gone, you'll still occasionally feel the sting loss when remembering the people you've loved so much but are no longer with you.
14. I've learned that feeling sorry for yourself for more than 15 minutes in a day is a waste of time and energy. There's always someone out there who has a sadder story than you, and wallowing in self-pity isn't going to make things better.
13. Integrity is a rare and valuable commodity in a person, and I admire and try to model myself after people who are willing to take responsibility for themselves and their action.
12. When I can't count on anything else in the world, I know the cheddar vegetable soup at the Brick Oven Bistro in Boise will be just as awesome as always.
11. In retrospect, growing up in a small town taught me more about life than I previously would admit.
10. High school was horrible, but I think I'm finally over it.
9. My teacher's used to say that I had tremendous potential, if I would just apply myself. I now think that they may have been mistaken, and I've always been meeting my potential and fooling people into believing that I'm capable of doing more. Maybe that's why I wanted to be a politician so bad...
8. I'm a book snob, a coffee snob, and a baked goods snob, and none of these things will ever change.
7. I have wonderful parents, and am thrilled that as of this year I'm able to talk to them as if I'm an adult and feel like we're closer than we've ever been.
6. I have wonderful sisters who have not only provided me with a gaggle of amazing nieces and nephews, but who have always been honest and forthright with me (whether I've wanted them to be or not).
5. I have incredible in-laws who handed their son over to me without thinking twice, and have welcomed me into their lives with open arms.
4. Over the years I've had friends come and go. But I have an incredible first string line-up that I know without a doubt will be in my life until I'm dead and gone. I'd list you all, but I don't think you need me to.
3. My mom was right when she said that we were rich in the important things.
2. When I found out I was pregnant with Lucas, I was mortified. I thought I was too young. Now I know, that had I not had him then, I probably never would have been able to. He is everything that is good in Shay and I, and he amazes me with his compassion and sincerity. I'm so grateful for my son, and for being a mom!
1. I'm not an easy person to live with. I'm extremely independent and opinionated. I need my space and time. And I was lucky enough to find a person that doesn't mind any of these things at all, but finds them to be endearing. Shay changed my life, and gave me a reason to want to be a better person. I've never known unconditional love like he gives me. And I know that whatever my age, he'll always be 6 months older than me.
So there you go. I didn't make it through the list without crying, even though you probably did. Here's to me and my 31 years of mistakes and good decisions, awkward moments and bits of inspiration, of love with family friends, and may the next 31 be similar but with more baked goods.
Sincerely,
h.
In a few short days, another one of my birthdays will roll around. I was telling my friend Jenny this the other day. She asked how old I would be, and I begrudgingly replied "31", which she immediately followed with, "Thirty Fun!".
Jenny's stellar rhyming abilities helped spark some happiness in my mind about getting older. I mean, why should I have to feel bad about something that I can do absolutely nothing about? And let's face it, I don't look a day over 24 (after a lot of time in front of the mirror strategically dressing myself and doing my hair and makeup). So in tribute to turning thirty-fun and to continue to feel good about where I am in life, I thought I would list 31 things that I am happy, thankful, or just generally amused with in my little life. By the way, it won't hurt my feelings if you don't want to read this. I know it seems like a journal entry my shrink would recommend.
Here it goes:
31. Having two KitchenAid mixers.
30. Knowing and understanding more about everything than anyone else.
29. Making it this far without getting a tattoo.
28. Facebook.
27. Being old enough to understand that when it comes to extended family, there's going to be some that you just don't like and that you can avoid for years at a time if you want.
26. Finding some new music interesting, but knowing in my heart of hearts that it will probably never get better than what we've had for years.
25. I can still drop it like it's hot on the dance floor.
24. That I haven't learned to play my guitar yet, but I'm going to if it's the last thing I do.
23. I still worry that no one will show up to my birthday parties, but they always do,
22. The next big thing in life I'm really looking forward to is retirement.
21. No matter how old I become, one of my favorite things to do is drink coffee and have intellectual conversations with a friend. However, the older I get, the less intellectual I become.
20. Had it not been for Aunt Ruth (not to mention Jorge, Anthony, Mike and Ana) I may not have survived my youth. She continues to be one of my very favorite people on the face of the planet, and the world is a better place for having her in it.
19. I don't need to do any sort of extreme sport anymore. Keep your mountain biking, rock climbing, and week long backpacking trips! I'd rather take a hot bath and read a book!
18. Being nice matters.
17. Knowing that you can't help someone who is not willing to help themselves.
16. I love to travel, but I hate being a tourist, and automatically hate all other tourists when traveling.
15. Understanding that even after years of them being gone, you'll still occasionally feel the sting loss when remembering the people you've loved so much but are no longer with you.
14. I've learned that feeling sorry for yourself for more than 15 minutes in a day is a waste of time and energy. There's always someone out there who has a sadder story than you, and wallowing in self-pity isn't going to make things better.
13. Integrity is a rare and valuable commodity in a person, and I admire and try to model myself after people who are willing to take responsibility for themselves and their action.
12. When I can't count on anything else in the world, I know the cheddar vegetable soup at the Brick Oven Bistro in Boise will be just as awesome as always.
11. In retrospect, growing up in a small town taught me more about life than I previously would admit.
10. High school was horrible, but I think I'm finally over it.
9. My teacher's used to say that I had tremendous potential, if I would just apply myself. I now think that they may have been mistaken, and I've always been meeting my potential and fooling people into believing that I'm capable of doing more. Maybe that's why I wanted to be a politician so bad...
8. I'm a book snob, a coffee snob, and a baked goods snob, and none of these things will ever change.
7. I have wonderful parents, and am thrilled that as of this year I'm able to talk to them as if I'm an adult and feel like we're closer than we've ever been.
6. I have wonderful sisters who have not only provided me with a gaggle of amazing nieces and nephews, but who have always been honest and forthright with me (whether I've wanted them to be or not).
5. I have incredible in-laws who handed their son over to me without thinking twice, and have welcomed me into their lives with open arms.
4. Over the years I've had friends come and go. But I have an incredible first string line-up that I know without a doubt will be in my life until I'm dead and gone. I'd list you all, but I don't think you need me to.
3. My mom was right when she said that we were rich in the important things.
2. When I found out I was pregnant with Lucas, I was mortified. I thought I was too young. Now I know, that had I not had him then, I probably never would have been able to. He is everything that is good in Shay and I, and he amazes me with his compassion and sincerity. I'm so grateful for my son, and for being a mom!
1. I'm not an easy person to live with. I'm extremely independent and opinionated. I need my space and time. And I was lucky enough to find a person that doesn't mind any of these things at all, but finds them to be endearing. Shay changed my life, and gave me a reason to want to be a better person. I've never known unconditional love like he gives me. And I know that whatever my age, he'll always be 6 months older than me.
So there you go. I didn't make it through the list without crying, even though you probably did. Here's to me and my 31 years of mistakes and good decisions, awkward moments and bits of inspiration, of love with family friends, and may the next 31 be similar but with more baked goods.
Sincerely,
h.
7.06.2010
A Blog About Andrea
Dear Readers,
When I was in junior high, I was introduced to a singer/songwriter named Juliana Hatfield. Although she's far from a musical genius, and was better known for singing backup for The Lemonheads than for her solo work, she did produce a song that still haunts me to this day: "My Sister". This song was meaningful to me because it did and it does represent my own sister, Andrea.
I am the middle of three sisters. Andrea is my older, and Kate is my younger. Despite our better judgement, we have grown up to be quite good friends. Of course, it took several years even as adults to admit this. Anyone who has known us our whole lives will know that we spent the better part of our youth in physical and mental brawls, always trying to make one more miserable than the other. But this blog isn't about the three of us. Per her request, this one is dedicated to Andrea (don't worry Kate, I'll write one for you soon enough).
When we were very young, my sister Andrea watched me when my mother was at work. Every day she would walk from Big Valley Elementary and pick me up at Memorial Elementary and we would walk to the Rupert Square, where my mom worked at First Security Bank. We would check in with her, get some change, and walk across the street to the bakery to get a mexican pastry. From there we would walk home, where the next two hours before my father got home were filled with screaming, fighting, and mild forms of torture.
Always quick to remind me that she was older and in charge, Andrea used her power over me to carry out her genius plans. Remember when we were held hostage on the freeway by a gaggle of angry truckers? That was Andrea's idea, carried out by yours truly. Once when playing "Police Sisters" (we would ride our bikes around our neighborhood making siren noises and protecting Rupert from evil), Andrea told me I wouldn't be an official police sister until I vandalized some freshly poured cement with our initials. I started to carry out the plan, when Andrea disappeared and the owner of said cement pulled up in his car, and took out all of his anger on me. Even after being screamed at and scared to death, Andrea still told me that because I didn't complete the mission to her liking, I would not be made an official Police Sister.
When I reached junior high, Andrea was in high school. I don't know why, but I was always attracted to her friends and wanted to be included in her group, particularly during her senior year when she had become a member of the Vincent Van Gough Memorial Visual Arts Club. Mind you, it was rare when any of her friends treated me remotely human, but none the less I was drawn to them and wanted to be a part of their clique. To this day I find myself intimidated by them and am still concerned of their opinions of me.
Around this same time, Andrea was planning on joining my dad on a trip to Europe. Surprisingly, her plans were never confirmed (we think my dad might have a secret agenda to keep us out of Europe as long as we live), and she was left with a handful of cash and no where to go. My mom arranged for us to go and visit my cousin Brent in Seattle as a way to appease her. Andrea was 16 and I was 13. Brent at the time was a bachelor who really didn't know how to handle two teenage girls, did what any sensible adult would do and dropped us off downtown by ourselves to explore and waste all of our money. It was AWESOME. Andrea and I enjoyed the freedom that we had, visiting all the hotspots together and going crazy in the Disney Store. When at Brent's house we found a lot of enjoyment in cleaning his kitchen, mulching his lawn, and watching stolen cable. That trip is still on my top 5 vacations of all time.
When Andrea graduated high school, she went off to spend a semester at Utah State University. She came home every weekend to visit her sweetheart Jeremy, except for one. On that one weekend, I got to go and spend it with her. It was one of the highlights of my sophomore year of high school. Sleeping in the dorms, meeting her cool college buddies, eating crap food and staying out all night...it was everything I had imagined college to be and more! On the ride home, Andrea let me drive the Omega (which only contained an AM stereo so we had a battery powered cd player that we held on our laps), and she read Edgar Allen Poe to me to entertain me. I went home with a firm plan in mind of what my first year of college would be like (and I was damn sure it wouldn't include coming home every weekend), and as far as I can remember I was able to carry it out ver bad-um.
We've shared many unique experiences with each other, from seeing the Smashing Pumpkins play at the Record Exchange to meeting John Maher backstage at his concert. We've said some really horrible things to each other. We've laughed, cried, swore, and cheered at each other's expense. But this I know is true: my life would be missing something great if I didn't have Andrea in it. I'm sure when she reads this, she'll be sure to comment on my writing style and point out any mistakes I made. But underneath the criticism and judgement will reside a thin layer of love and appreciation. As reluctant as she might be to say it, I know she loves me and is happy to have me for a sister. But it is something I'll admit willingly...I love you Andrea, and I'm happy to have you for a sister.
Sincerely,
h.
When I was in junior high, I was introduced to a singer/songwriter named Juliana Hatfield. Although she's far from a musical genius, and was better known for singing backup for The Lemonheads than for her solo work, she did produce a song that still haunts me to this day: "My Sister". This song was meaningful to me because it did and it does represent my own sister, Andrea.
I am the middle of three sisters. Andrea is my older, and Kate is my younger. Despite our better judgement, we have grown up to be quite good friends. Of course, it took several years even as adults to admit this. Anyone who has known us our whole lives will know that we spent the better part of our youth in physical and mental brawls, always trying to make one more miserable than the other. But this blog isn't about the three of us. Per her request, this one is dedicated to Andrea (don't worry Kate, I'll write one for you soon enough).
When we were very young, my sister Andrea watched me when my mother was at work. Every day she would walk from Big Valley Elementary and pick me up at Memorial Elementary and we would walk to the Rupert Square, where my mom worked at First Security Bank. We would check in with her, get some change, and walk across the street to the bakery to get a mexican pastry. From there we would walk home, where the next two hours before my father got home were filled with screaming, fighting, and mild forms of torture.
Always quick to remind me that she was older and in charge, Andrea used her power over me to carry out her genius plans. Remember when we were held hostage on the freeway by a gaggle of angry truckers? That was Andrea's idea, carried out by yours truly. Once when playing "Police Sisters" (we would ride our bikes around our neighborhood making siren noises and protecting Rupert from evil), Andrea told me I wouldn't be an official police sister until I vandalized some freshly poured cement with our initials. I started to carry out the plan, when Andrea disappeared and the owner of said cement pulled up in his car, and took out all of his anger on me. Even after being screamed at and scared to death, Andrea still told me that because I didn't complete the mission to her liking, I would not be made an official Police Sister.
When I reached junior high, Andrea was in high school. I don't know why, but I was always attracted to her friends and wanted to be included in her group, particularly during her senior year when she had become a member of the Vincent Van Gough Memorial Visual Arts Club. Mind you, it was rare when any of her friends treated me remotely human, but none the less I was drawn to them and wanted to be a part of their clique. To this day I find myself intimidated by them and am still concerned of their opinions of me.
Around this same time, Andrea was planning on joining my dad on a trip to Europe. Surprisingly, her plans were never confirmed (we think my dad might have a secret agenda to keep us out of Europe as long as we live), and she was left with a handful of cash and no where to go. My mom arranged for us to go and visit my cousin Brent in Seattle as a way to appease her. Andrea was 16 and I was 13. Brent at the time was a bachelor who really didn't know how to handle two teenage girls, did what any sensible adult would do and dropped us off downtown by ourselves to explore and waste all of our money. It was AWESOME. Andrea and I enjoyed the freedom that we had, visiting all the hotspots together and going crazy in the Disney Store. When at Brent's house we found a lot of enjoyment in cleaning his kitchen, mulching his lawn, and watching stolen cable. That trip is still on my top 5 vacations of all time.
When Andrea graduated high school, she went off to spend a semester at Utah State University. She came home every weekend to visit her sweetheart Jeremy, except for one. On that one weekend, I got to go and spend it with her. It was one of the highlights of my sophomore year of high school. Sleeping in the dorms, meeting her cool college buddies, eating crap food and staying out all night...it was everything I had imagined college to be and more! On the ride home, Andrea let me drive the Omega (which only contained an AM stereo so we had a battery powered cd player that we held on our laps), and she read Edgar Allen Poe to me to entertain me. I went home with a firm plan in mind of what my first year of college would be like (and I was damn sure it wouldn't include coming home every weekend), and as far as I can remember I was able to carry it out ver bad-um.
We've shared many unique experiences with each other, from seeing the Smashing Pumpkins play at the Record Exchange to meeting John Maher backstage at his concert. We've said some really horrible things to each other. We've laughed, cried, swore, and cheered at each other's expense. But this I know is true: my life would be missing something great if I didn't have Andrea in it. I'm sure when she reads this, she'll be sure to comment on my writing style and point out any mistakes I made. But underneath the criticism and judgement will reside a thin layer of love and appreciation. As reluctant as she might be to say it, I know she loves me and is happy to have me for a sister. But it is something I'll admit willingly...I love you Andrea, and I'm happy to have you for a sister.
Sincerely,
h.
5.28.2010
I've Got The Whole World In My Hand...Who Wants It?
Dear Readers,
Remember when I was going to save the world? When I had crazy mad ambition, and a laundry list of causes to champion? I do. And just thinking about it makes me tired.
Politics? No thanks.
Orphans in Africa? Sad, but untouchable.
Poor spelling? It's an epidemic beyond my control.
In my wise old age, I've come to the conclusion that I want things to be as easy as possible. I want a good, healthy meal cooked in less than 15 minutes. I want to read and book and take a bath instead of participating in some inane political debate that will never even leave my dining room table. I want a maid.
Have I become lazy and/or complacent? Perhaps. It's been over a month since I've last blogged, for Hell's sake. Regardless, I feel more at peace now than I think ever have been before. Maybe Shay's Taoist principles have rubbed off on me. I'll just sit back and let the Universe take the reigns, all I have to do is wake up in the morning and go to sleep at night, while putting minimum effort into the goings on during the day.
If I'm really being honest with myself though, there is this part of me that is taking this peaceful route kicking and screaming. I can feel it start to swell up when I listen to NPR about the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. It claws it's way up my throat to try to scream for me when I remember that civil rights are given to everyone except gay people, poor people, and underprivileged areas of the nation. And what about Tyra's pick for America's Next Top Model this season? Atrocious!
Okay, so maybe I do still have the spark. But I'm limiting it to just that. I can't change the world, I can't change humanity, I'm not even sure I can convince my 6 year old that changing his underwear everyday is a good idea. But I will do my best to be a nice and gracious person, master making the perfect pie crust, and promise not to listen to partisan radio talk show hosts.
Sincerely,
h.
Remember when I was going to save the world? When I had crazy mad ambition, and a laundry list of causes to champion? I do. And just thinking about it makes me tired.
Politics? No thanks.
Orphans in Africa? Sad, but untouchable.
Poor spelling? It's an epidemic beyond my control.
In my wise old age, I've come to the conclusion that I want things to be as easy as possible. I want a good, healthy meal cooked in less than 15 minutes. I want to read and book and take a bath instead of participating in some inane political debate that will never even leave my dining room table. I want a maid.
Have I become lazy and/or complacent? Perhaps. It's been over a month since I've last blogged, for Hell's sake. Regardless, I feel more at peace now than I think ever have been before. Maybe Shay's Taoist principles have rubbed off on me. I'll just sit back and let the Universe take the reigns, all I have to do is wake up in the morning and go to sleep at night, while putting minimum effort into the goings on during the day.
If I'm really being honest with myself though, there is this part of me that is taking this peaceful route kicking and screaming. I can feel it start to swell up when I listen to NPR about the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. It claws it's way up my throat to try to scream for me when I remember that civil rights are given to everyone except gay people, poor people, and underprivileged areas of the nation. And what about Tyra's pick for America's Next Top Model this season? Atrocious!
Okay, so maybe I do still have the spark. But I'm limiting it to just that. I can't change the world, I can't change humanity, I'm not even sure I can convince my 6 year old that changing his underwear everyday is a good idea. But I will do my best to be a nice and gracious person, master making the perfect pie crust, and promise not to listen to partisan radio talk show hosts.
Sincerely,
h.
4.12.2010
Too Late to Sleep
Dear Readers,
I haven't felt well over the last couple days which in turn has rewarded me with a few luxuries, one of them being able to watch some movies I've wanted to see for a while and another has been updating my iPod.
Coincidentally the movies I watched were both about single people staying single. Both involved males being disappointed by their female counterparts. And both had the kind of ending that Disney would go out of business before producing. I'm not sure if you've seen the movies I'm speaking of, but because I hate to spoil anything for anybody, I won't mention their names. It's the theme I'm focusing on anyhow. In case you missed my theme, it's being single.
Before marrying Shay, or before dating Shay I should say, I had no desire to get married. In church it was one of the main focuses, so I guess you could say in my younger years I felt an obligation to get married, but that's different from desire. In a way it was a feminist issue, but really if you get deep down into my psyche it was more of a matter of giving up my independence that I had worked so hard for from a very young age. School, recreation, travel, job, all of these things took the front seat in my life. But then Shay showed up, and one by one school, recreation, travel, and my career all climbed in the back seat (where they fought constantly, I might add) and then when Lucas was born they became strangled hostages locked up in the trunk.
After reading that last paragraph, it makes it sound that Shay and Lucas are strangling me. I assure you, that is not the case (but it was such a clever anecdote I had to leave it, surely you understand). If anything they've taught me to live a different kind of life. One that's sometimes boring, almost always low key, but full of a substance that I was lacking in my single days. Which brings me to my iPod.
One of the artists I put on is one that you've possibly heard of. He's one of my dearest friends, Loren Reed. In his genius work entitled "Honce" he says, "The only words from that good book I could believe, "Man should not be alone...", " along with "I don't believe in God, I believe in the human bond, I believe in you and me, the love of a family...". I haven't sat down and thought about a couple of sentences so hard in a long time. Occasionally, I find myself pining for those younger days where I only had myself to worry about, where I only cooked for one and didn't feel guilty about missing a little league soccer game. But when I hear those lines through my headphones, and I watch the characters in the movies who find their selfishness as some sort of right of passage, I reconsider my rose colored past.
The fact of the matter is that no one else can make you happy but yourself. And I'm lucky enough to have people around me that I want to be happy for. I'm not saying marriage is for everyone; I'm not saying that marriage in general is for me. But I found a spouse that I like to be around, and who likes to be around me; however we allow each other to be what they need to be.
I think this is turning into more of a ramble than a blog, so I'll leave you for now. But before I go, I implore you to listen to Loren's music. You can find it at thechrishunt.com.
Sincerely,
h.
I haven't felt well over the last couple days which in turn has rewarded me with a few luxuries, one of them being able to watch some movies I've wanted to see for a while and another has been updating my iPod.
Coincidentally the movies I watched were both about single people staying single. Both involved males being disappointed by their female counterparts. And both had the kind of ending that Disney would go out of business before producing. I'm not sure if you've seen the movies I'm speaking of, but because I hate to spoil anything for anybody, I won't mention their names. It's the theme I'm focusing on anyhow. In case you missed my theme, it's being single.
Before marrying Shay, or before dating Shay I should say, I had no desire to get married. In church it was one of the main focuses, so I guess you could say in my younger years I felt an obligation to get married, but that's different from desire. In a way it was a feminist issue, but really if you get deep down into my psyche it was more of a matter of giving up my independence that I had worked so hard for from a very young age. School, recreation, travel, job, all of these things took the front seat in my life. But then Shay showed up, and one by one school, recreation, travel, and my career all climbed in the back seat (where they fought constantly, I might add) and then when Lucas was born they became strangled hostages locked up in the trunk.
After reading that last paragraph, it makes it sound that Shay and Lucas are strangling me. I assure you, that is not the case (but it was such a clever anecdote I had to leave it, surely you understand). If anything they've taught me to live a different kind of life. One that's sometimes boring, almost always low key, but full of a substance that I was lacking in my single days. Which brings me to my iPod.
One of the artists I put on is one that you've possibly heard of. He's one of my dearest friends, Loren Reed. In his genius work entitled "Honce" he says, "The only words from that good book I could believe, "Man should not be alone...", " along with "I don't believe in God, I believe in the human bond, I believe in you and me, the love of a family...". I haven't sat down and thought about a couple of sentences so hard in a long time. Occasionally, I find myself pining for those younger days where I only had myself to worry about, where I only cooked for one and didn't feel guilty about missing a little league soccer game. But when I hear those lines through my headphones, and I watch the characters in the movies who find their selfishness as some sort of right of passage, I reconsider my rose colored past.
The fact of the matter is that no one else can make you happy but yourself. And I'm lucky enough to have people around me that I want to be happy for. I'm not saying marriage is for everyone; I'm not saying that marriage in general is for me. But I found a spouse that I like to be around, and who likes to be around me; however we allow each other to be what they need to be.
I think this is turning into more of a ramble than a blog, so I'll leave you for now. But before I go, I implore you to listen to Loren's music. You can find it at thechrishunt.com.
Sincerely,
h.
4.04.2010
Brunchin' Bunch
Dear Readers,
Happy Easter to you! Some of you will be thrilled to know that I started off my day in a very unusual way, singing hymns. I had "Abide With Me" stuck in my head when I woke up, so I Googled the Mormon Tabernacle Choir rendition of it. One time through the song and it was out of my system! Phew!
After that, I got to work on brunch. Holy cooking Batman! Here's the menu:
Orange Pull-Apart Rolls (made from scratch and they are AMAZING...as soon as I find my USB cord I'll post pics)
Ham and Cheddar Quiche
Mushroom, Red Pepper, Onion, and Parmesan Quiche
Bacon (of course)
Belgium Waffles with Strawberries and Cream
It was a lot of work, but more than worth it. Honestly, I am at my happiest when my friends are at home (by "at home" I mean at my house...I wish they would just move in with me) and I get to feed them. It's especially fun now with my big kitchen that opens into the dining and living rooms, because I can actually talk to them! As cheesy and emotional as it sounds, I just have to say that my friends have become such a huge part of my life that I consider them more family than anything else. Don't get me wrong, I love my family family too. Shay, Lucas, and I have been extremely fortunate in being able to surround ourselves with such a great bunch of people though. They're as kind as they are crass, and as loving as they are nerdy. I don't know if they feel the same about me, but they keep coming back so I guess there's a little love in there somewhere!
So there you go. I've one upped you on quality of both brunch and friends...I hope you don't hold it against me, there's not a lot more to me than those two things!
Sincerely,
h.
3.24.2010
The Good Life
Dear Readers,
I had a conversation with my aunt Ruth the other day that has stuck in my mind. I had called her to alert her of my sister Kate being in labor, and one way or another the conversation turned into an analysis of how life for my sisters, cousins, and myself is so different then it was for her, my mom, and aunts and uncles.
She said that it seems like we struggle more in finding our lives now, and I couldn't help but agree. Here I am, 30 years old, changing jobs again, moving to another apartment (not buying a house), and still trying to figure out what it is that I will do when I grow up. I have the basics in tact, I know that I want to be a baker, I know I want Shay to be able to make a living as a full time artist, and I know that I want Lucas to get a full ride scholarship to M.I.T. (because there is no way I'll be able to foot the bill for that one...). And that's it, that's where it ends.
My aunt Ruth, however, married an engineer who landed a great and stable job in Boise, bought a house in a subdivision, and was a wonderful full time stay at home mom. My mom and dad struggled a bit at first, but by the time they were around my age my dad was teaching, they owned their home in Rupert, had three kids, and my mom worked at First Security Bank either part or full time the entire time. Once they were in their purchased homes, they didn't leave (well, my aunt moved a few years back, but for all intensive purposes they were grounded until their children were adults).
I'm not positive, but I think the reason why couples and parents my age struggle more than our aunts and parents did is more of a problem with society than it is a problem within ourselves. College costs a fortune, and it's impossible to pay for without loans. Having kids costs a fortune; not only did it take me three years to pay off the hospital for Lucas' birth, but just paying for his school registration, soccer, and swimming lessons costs almost the amount of a semester of college. Getting a steady job, for instance Shay's teaching job, is extremely hard to do, and when you do land it you still don't make enough to keep your wife at home because the cost of living versus your pay is completely out of whack. Even if his pay was more or cost of living was less, I would still have to work full time to qualify for reasonably priced health insurance, because the cost of it through the school system is ENORMOUS. I'm part of a generation that learned how to spend a lot of money in very little time; I don't know one person my age without credit card debt.
With all of that being said, allow me to make something clear: I AM HAPPY. So things didn't go the way that I planned, or that my parents planned. I'm poor, and will probably continue to be poor for a long time. The good news is that I don't know any different at this point, except the glimpse I get to have of people far more prosperous than me (but they're a hell of a lot grouchier than I am). I have fun. I enjoy my friends and family. My life is, as my mom would say, is "rich in blessings". Couple that with my meager retirement savings, and my lofty dreams for the future, and my life looks pretty good.
I move on Saturday, and start my new job on Monday, I have nothing but optimism in my heart that I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be in my life. That's not to say I wouldn't like a little more stability like my aunt and mother had, because I would. For now though, I'll play the hand I've been given.
Sincerely,
h.
I had a conversation with my aunt Ruth the other day that has stuck in my mind. I had called her to alert her of my sister Kate being in labor, and one way or another the conversation turned into an analysis of how life for my sisters, cousins, and myself is so different then it was for her, my mom, and aunts and uncles.
She said that it seems like we struggle more in finding our lives now, and I couldn't help but agree. Here I am, 30 years old, changing jobs again, moving to another apartment (not buying a house), and still trying to figure out what it is that I will do when I grow up. I have the basics in tact, I know that I want to be a baker, I know I want Shay to be able to make a living as a full time artist, and I know that I want Lucas to get a full ride scholarship to M.I.T. (because there is no way I'll be able to foot the bill for that one...). And that's it, that's where it ends.
My aunt Ruth, however, married an engineer who landed a great and stable job in Boise, bought a house in a subdivision, and was a wonderful full time stay at home mom. My mom and dad struggled a bit at first, but by the time they were around my age my dad was teaching, they owned their home in Rupert, had three kids, and my mom worked at First Security Bank either part or full time the entire time. Once they were in their purchased homes, they didn't leave (well, my aunt moved a few years back, but for all intensive purposes they were grounded until their children were adults).
I'm not positive, but I think the reason why couples and parents my age struggle more than our aunts and parents did is more of a problem with society than it is a problem within ourselves. College costs a fortune, and it's impossible to pay for without loans. Having kids costs a fortune; not only did it take me three years to pay off the hospital for Lucas' birth, but just paying for his school registration, soccer, and swimming lessons costs almost the amount of a semester of college. Getting a steady job, for instance Shay's teaching job, is extremely hard to do, and when you do land it you still don't make enough to keep your wife at home because the cost of living versus your pay is completely out of whack. Even if his pay was more or cost of living was less, I would still have to work full time to qualify for reasonably priced health insurance, because the cost of it through the school system is ENORMOUS. I'm part of a generation that learned how to spend a lot of money in very little time; I don't know one person my age without credit card debt.
With all of that being said, allow me to make something clear: I AM HAPPY. So things didn't go the way that I planned, or that my parents planned. I'm poor, and will probably continue to be poor for a long time. The good news is that I don't know any different at this point, except the glimpse I get to have of people far more prosperous than me (but they're a hell of a lot grouchier than I am). I have fun. I enjoy my friends and family. My life is, as my mom would say, is "rich in blessings". Couple that with my meager retirement savings, and my lofty dreams for the future, and my life looks pretty good.
I move on Saturday, and start my new job on Monday, I have nothing but optimism in my heart that I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be in my life. That's not to say I wouldn't like a little more stability like my aunt and mother had, because I would. For now though, I'll play the hand I've been given.
Sincerely,
h.
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