The Inevitable Quest...

A place for me to be me...while searching for who I want to be

Monday, April 25, 2005

My Hiding Place

Did you ever have a hiding place as a kid? I did. It was in the upstairs linen closet. I would climb on the top shelf and hide behind the blankets. No one would ever find me there. I would go there to just be by myself. I thought I had so much to get away from...when really I didn't have a care in the world. These days I wish I had a cool hiding place where no one could find me. But the only thing that comes close is in the bathroom at work. I just go and sit in a stall...and listen to the silence. Most the times it is really quiet with just the hum of the overhead fan. I just stare at the back of the stall door and sit...and listen...and be. To get away. Technically I know my problems follow me in there...but sometimes they just melt away as the fan hums. I will usually think of the color black...or a black hole...and all of it's nothingness. It's soothing. But after a couple of minutes...I realize I better come back out before people start thinking I am homesick (**note - homesick is a codeword for diarrhea**). The bathroom isn't quite as cool as the linen closet...but it will do for now. One day I will find my linen closet...and my peace.

Tuesday, April 19, 2005

Watch out for the Popsicles!

I love popsicles! Always have. At any given time (well at least the spring thru fall here in TN) you can find popsicles in my freezer. Growing up my favorites were Big Sticks, Push Ups, & Mexican Popsicles. We just bought some new popsicles this past weekend. They are Rootbeer Float popsicles. The outside shell is rootbeer flavored, and the inside is vanilla ice cream. I LOVE ROOTBEER FLOATS. Especially Rootbeer blended floats from Sonic! YUM! I was VERY excited to try these new popsicles. So last night as my after dinner treat I got a popsicle. I couldn't wait for the first lick. My lips hit the end of the popsicle...and got stuck. STUCK...STUCK! All of a sudden I remember poor old Finn from The Christmas Story that got his tongue stuck to the flagpole in the winter. I kept saying my lips are stuck to Steve and he just carried on like nothing was going on. It wasn't a big deal, so I didn't make a scene...but I did think it was funny Steve didn't do anything. So I start trying to get saliva to go between the popsicle and my lips. After about 30 seconds the bottom lip was released. I tried to run my tongue around where my upper lip was stuck. No luck. Tried to get saliva around it. No luck. Finally I took a deep breath and pulled. OUCH! There was a hunk of skin on the popsicle. I showed Steve, he couldn't believe it. I asked him why he didn't even flinch when I told him my lips were stuck. I don't even remember what he was either he didn't understand what I was saying, or he thought I was joking. Okay...I have probably eaten THOUSANDS of popsicles in my lifetime...and not once has my lips stuck to the popsicle. LET ALONE IT TAKE A HUNK OF MY SKIN!!! WHAT HAPPENED? I don't want to not eat popsicles, but I don't want hunks of skin from my lips to always get stuck to them. Once I removed the skin (there was also a small chunk on the bottom of the popsicle where my bottom lip was) I thoroughly enjoyed the popsicle. It was everything I thought it would be. I probably could have eaten 5 more! I don't know what happened...I guess I just try again and hope my lips don't get stuck. So beware for the popsicles!

Thursday, April 07, 2005


It's almost here...GMA...or Gospel Music Week. Everyone I have been talking to is not looking forward to it, and can't wait until it's over. NOT ME. I LOVE IT. I love a good schmoozefest. I get to see all my radio friends that I talk to on the phone all the time. I get to see the cool people, and the creepy people. I guess it's a good mix. I get to take them out for a meal. I get to hear about their radio station, and what's going on in their lives. I love listening to different people's stories. Especially when I am bored of my own. Anywho...there are things that I love and hate about GMA.

The Things I Love:
1. Seeing fun radio friends
2. Being out of the office
3. Not sitting all day long
4. Good Food
5. Good Music
6. Learning new things about people
7. Spending time with our artists
8. Living by a schedule (I know I'm a freak because this makes me happy! My schedule is even color coded.)
9. Being active.

Things I hate:
1. When you are talking to someone and they are scanning the room for someone better to talk to
2. Messing up my workouts and trying to fit some in during the madness
3. Not enough sleep

So the good outweighs the bad in my book. But...due to GMA I won't be posting for awhile. And that's okay. Funny enough, this has been the most consistent I have been with writing since my high school journal. HAPPY SCHMOOZEFEST!!!

Tuesday, April 05, 2005

The "Weakness" that I Loathe...kind of

This time of analyzation takes me WAY back in life. Back to about 6 years old or so. Picture this...a gymnasium...with uneven bars, a vault, balance beams and floors. Girls flipping around on all of this equipment. I was one of those girls! There was nothing more I wanted in life (at that moment) to go to the 1992 Barcelona Olympics and compete in Gymnastics. I trained...A LOT...and HARD! 4 hours a day, 5 days a week. And that was just gymnastics. We also had manditory ballet and tap classes. I guess I did this for 9 years. I was about 2 years away from moving to Texas to train with Bela Karoli. I was pretty good, if I have to say so myself. But when I was 6 was when I first remember training with Mark. Mark was probably in his 30s. He had a mustache. He was TOUGH. And he only trained "CERTAIN" girls. I was one of the fortunate. I also trained with Jeanine and Kathy like everyone else, but there were only a handful of us that had extra training with Mark. I don't really know what all of Mark's accolades were, but he was respected...and FEARED. I feared him! He would YELL at bend further, and try harder and whip around faster...and many girls cried. And that would make him yell louder. He would tell us that crying is for "weak" girls that wouldn't amount to much. Especially not winners. If a girl started crying, he would tell them to leave. He WOULDN'T lower himself to train weak girls. I NEVER cried. I wanted to BE THE BEST. I wanted Mark to lift me into his arms and put me on his shoulder because I accomplished a hard task. That happened once...and it was one of the best feelings in my life! Little did I know that over these years I would incorporate Mark's philosophy on crying into my life. Okay...I admit it...I view crying as a weakness. FOR ME. Not for others...but for me. I know that crying is good, and it's a good release of stress and pent up emotions, and you feel better after crying. And I have cried in my life. I can pretty much recount most of the times that I have cried, and they are few. Now when I say CRY, I mean more than a tear trickling down your face. Like, you have to get tissues and blow your nose and all your make up comes off and you start making noises trying to catch your breath. That I don't do often. I tear up on occasion. I was thinking about it this weekend. It was a hard weekend for me...for other reasons. But I wanted to cry. But I knew I couldn't. And then it kind of hit me. I think I keep myself from crying because it's a form of punishment. I struggle with self-punishment. I "ground myself" from certain foods, or things I like. Why?? I guess to teach myself a lesson. I know if I cry, I will feel better emotionally. But I don't deserve to feel better, so I nip it in the bud, and tell myself I don't deserve it. I AM WEAK IF I CRY. That makes me stop. Even when I found out that my dad had cancer...(which has been my longest cry in almost 6 years) only lasted about 15 minutes. Steve has never seen me LOSE it. He didn't witness any of those 15 minutes. I don't feel like I lost it in those 15 minutes. The last 2 times I remember losing it were at my grandpa's funeral in 1994, and when I got back to the states after living in Italy in August of 1999 and was experiencing reverse culture shock. Those were bad. (Actually there was about 2 months where I battled depression the fall of 1996 that were bad...but I view that as an era and not a day. But those should be counted in the losing it portion.) Part of me wishes I would allow myself to just cry. But I'll let you in on a sick secret...part of me LOVES the fact that I stop myself from crying. I guess it makes me feel tough. I don't know why I need to be tough?? There's no reason. I don't really know the point of this rant. Please don't think I think you are weak because you cry. It's good for you. This rule ONLY applies to me. I don't think any less of my friends and family who cry. But as for me...I choose not to. I'm sure I'll lose it again at some point. Hopefully none of you will be around to witness will be SCARY!

Friday, April 01, 2005

The Stranger in the Night

A couple of nights ago it stormed...BAD! Those that know me...know I HATE THE RAIN! I hate everything about it...mainly how it makes your hair frizzy. I hate feeling wet when I don't want to intentionally be wet. I hate that it looks gloomy and gray. But there's nothing like driving in terrential downpours!!!! I don't fear much in life. It used to be that my only fear was alligators. But since I have moved to Tennessee my new fear is driving in BAD rain (especially the LOUD THUNDER that goes along with it). In California, we would call rain what I would call sprinkling here. Rain here has HUGE DROPS! I remember the first week I was here in June of 2000. I was getting a new cell phone with a Nashville number. When I entered the Sprint was sunny and clear. I couldn't have been in there longer than a half an hour. My parents were still here from moving me out. We were about to leave the store and it was raining HARDER than I had ever seen in my life. I kind of laughed. We waited for about 2 minutes and it didn't let up. So we decided to run to the car...which was probably 30 feet from the front door of the store. So we ran...and were ABSOLUTELY SOAKED by the time we got in the car. I it must be a freak storm! (In central California where I am from, it doesn't rain from May until this was VERY peculiar to me.) Little did I know it rains AT LEAST twice a week here in the Summertime. Anyways...back to a couple of nights ago. I was in Green Hills coming home at about 11pm. As I left Green Hills driving south on the 65 I saw all this AMAZING lightning. I have to was BEAUTIFUL. But that was because where I WASN'T raining. Then it dawned on me, I am about to drive right into that! My stomach started to hurt. I thought well surely it's not that bad. It started sprinkling...I kept driving. It started to rain...I kept driving. The terrential downpour began...I slowed to 25 miles per hour...I kept driving. Lightning was so powerful and so close to me that it knocked out the radio station for a good 10 seconds everytime a big one hit...I begin to get white knuckles...and I kept driving. I then couldn't see the lines on the road...I slowed down to 10 miles per hour...I begin to panic and beg with God to please let it lighten up and to get me home safely...and I kept driving. Normally when rain gets this bad...I pull over to the shoulder for a couple of minutes. But I'm on the freeway...I can't see the shoulder...I don't want to stop in the middle of the freeway and risk getting hit by traffic...and it's 11:20pm and I'm by myself...I kept driving. My eyes started to well up with tears even though I couldn't blink...and I kept driving. exit! Maybe I will pull into the gas station for a couple of minutes. Then I remember...I'm by myself and it's 11:30pm. So I kept driving. The rain calmed a bit and I could actually speed up to about 40 miles per hour. It stayed that way for the next 10 minutes or so...I was so thankful. I am about 3 miles away from my house...PRAISE THE LORD. My cheeks are damp...I still haven't calf hurts because I'm so tense and I keep moving my foot from the brake to the gas to the brake to the gas...and my knuckles are still white. Then I hear the crackle of thunder...oh no...NOT AGAIN. The terrential downpour turned into HAIL! So now I hear this AWFUL noise on the hood and roof of my car to go along with the white knuckles and tense calf muscle. Back to 10 miles per hour. FINALLY I pull onto my street...It's 11:52. What normally should have taken 25 - 30 minutes took 55 minutes! I have NEVER been that terrified in my life. Well...I can think of 1 other time that involved being in an airplane and dropping 2000 feet in 5 seconds and all the oxygen masks dropped from above. But besides that...TERRIFIED. But alas...I am home...why am I still terrified? I was so emotional that I almost started sobbing. I knew Steve would be asleep because he usually goes to bed around 10pm. I get into the kitchen, take off my heels and continue to hear the hail and rain tap on the windows and see the lightning. I make my way up the staircase. It was straight out of a horror movie...I think I could actually hear the eerie music as I walked up the stairs. (It's a good thing I like a good thriller.) As I am about to step into our bedroom...I heard the loudest crack of Thunder followed by an AMAZING flash of lightning that I can only relate to what mega celebrities must deal with when they are on the red carpet. It was blinding. And at that husband SCREAMED at the top of his lungs. Immediately I yelled..."IT'S ME...YOUR WIFE". And he layed down and I ran into our closest and couldn't help but start laughing. All of a sudden the fear went was kind of nice to follow that up with a good laugh. It was nice to hop into bed and laugh together and cuddle as the downpour continued.
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