Follow me here…
Follow me here…
sadly. But many congrats to the winner, who was announced by Casey today. I can’t wait to see the new hair!
The lucky thing about not winning is that I had figured out, in the span of time since I entered the contest, what I actually want done with my hair; therefore, I don’t have to hope that Whoorl agrees. You see, I kept thinking I wanted to be a redhead. So I tried it, or as red as my stylist (one of several – I rotate depending on my needs/budget; and I know, this is bad, but sometimes, I even try out new places just for fun. And also when I want a Monday appointment and every other salon is closed on Monday. Whatever, people.) would go on my hair. As it turns out, it has grown out kind of quickly and I hate it. Plus it just washes out, looks blonde, and I HATE (hate) having visible roots. (I also hate having naturally mousy-brown hair, thus the color.) Do you understand? The stylist did exactly what I wanted, like only six weeks ago, and I haaaaaate it. Which means, I want a change. But I figured it out, and I am pumped.
I am in the process of growing my hair (status: touching shoulders. Yay!) out, because I have rarely been able to accomplish such a feat and I like my hair longer. And so I think I am going to leave the length, but go back (it’s been a few years since I have had this color) to chocolately brown with caramel highlights…possibly tomorrow.
If I find an open salon.
(p.s. You know what else is tomorrow? I give away the Vera Bradley zip around wallet! As long as you comment by tomorrow at 12n, you’re in the drawing.)
(p.p.s. I also want to tell you all why my voice is a little sore and scratchy. I had the best weekend at our church’s 60th anniversary celebration. God is good, and I am pumped to share!)
No seriously, it’s a good thing!
So if you’ll recall, and if you’re new to my party, I’ll catch you up – from May 2006 through August 2007, I was a nanny. In the beginning it was really, really hard. And quite frankly? Most all of 2005 and the beginning of 2006 kind of stunk. Really bad. Here’s the schedule:
January through May 2005 – waffled back and forth about quitting my drone desk job to become a nurse.
May 2005 – had interview for nursing assistant job at hospital, was offered job at interview, told it started in two weeks. Quit job next day. Cried. Hate disappointing people. Started new job, mostly liked it.
June 2005 – working as nursing assistant, learning lots, whatever.
July 1, 2005 – my dad has a stress test because of a suspicious EKG. Cardiologist flips out because, upon first incline of treadmill, his heart tries to attack him. Dad goes by ambulance, code 3 lights and sirens to Big Heart Hospital Downtown, has Emergency! cardiac catheterization, we find out two of the three arteries to his heart are 100 percent blocked, and he has to have bypass surgery. Ironically, when arteries are 100 percent blocked, it becomes not an emergency to anyone (but the nice lady cardiologist), beacause they “can’t get any worse,” and yet he is forced to stay in the hospital until after the 4th of July holiday, because July 1, 2005 was a Friday. His surgery is scheduled for July 5, 2005.
SO…we go through all this with my dad, fast forward to September 2005, my mom gets sick and is hospitalzed for four days. (I love doctors. But they still haven’t figured out what is wrong, three years later.) In the meantime, I am in school, working at a hospital, going VERRRRRY deep in debt…it’s all spiraling downward. I remember going to a poverty simulation one night and feeling even worse because I felt like I was so close to being in the situation of those people – if it weren’t for my parents and living with them, I would have been.
In mid-April 2006, I got my acceptance letter to nursing school. I was due to start in mid-May. I had an interview at, ironically enough, Big Heart Hospital Downtown, which would have provided me a scholarship to pay for school and a job when I graduated. In the second interview, I choked. Bad. I couldn’t provide them with any decent answer as to why I deserved their scholarship. And the thing is – I am great in interviews. I do really well at that. (Not to brag, but to prove my point? I won the student council president seat in the fouth grade because I said I was going to bring a cheerleading team to our school and that I’d start a school bank. I did neither of those things…) So it was just…weird that I messed up, and ultimately, I didn’t get the scholarship, or the job. I had other resources, but I was just spent. So I said no to school, and went to become a nanny for a year.
By November 2006, my brain was fried. I was on my third job in 16 months. I was raising someone else’s kids – a job I loved but that frustrated me to no end. I was off medicine that helped my migraines because I had terrible health insurance and it was too expensive. I had gone off of another medicine that had caused me to gain 60 pounds in two years and develop polycystic ovarian syndrome (which I didn’t know at the time). I was crying constantly, miserable, frustrated…so I sought out medical help. I went on medicine. I am not ashamed of it, because the medicine helped me through one of the toughest times in my life. I was not myself. I just didn’t tell very many people, because the last thing I needed was the added responsibility of worry.
And I blogged. I blogged my way through depression, I blogged my way through nannying. I blogged my way through a summer in California with only two little girls to be my friends. I kept on with the medicine even though I felt better, because I knew quitting it wouldn’t work. I blogged and kept the meds when I moved to Chicago, and when I moved back home. And then.
I got a job. I got a job that pays well (all things considered – when you’re thisclose to the poverty line when you file taxes, anything is better!), where I don’t have to work nights and weekends, and I am not pretend mommy for someone else (which apparently isn’t good for me). On January 1, my prescription ran out for my medicine. I chose not to get it refilled, just to see. Normally, when you quit taking this medicine, you have ridiculously awful side effects. I did before, but not this time. So I kept on, one day at a time, with the promise to myself that IF I needed it, I would get it filled. Suddenly, it was two months later, I was sitting in a doctor’s office with new (good!) insurance for a physical, requesting my old headache medicine, knowing it would be covered, and realizing that I didn’t need my other medicine anymore.
So I say all that to say that sometimes I have nothing to say. I am still blogging – don’t worry, you…two faithful readers! In the thick of things, the blog was where I held on, where I worked out my thoughts and organized them, because I couldn’t without putting them into words. But for now, I am okay. And so sometimes, I feel like I should have something deep and meaningful to say and I just don’t, because there’s nothing deep and meaningful going on inside my head it’s working itself out on its own. My car is almost paid off, nearly a year after I was days away from having it reposessed. I am months away (days, maybe!) from getting my own place. I am not so scared of life anymore.
I am doing okay. God is faithful.
Now. On with the fun stuff. Tomorrow? Why I want this woman to be my BFF, and not just because I AM going to win and she is going to let the moosh Whoorl my hair…
I am loving the fact that the first study on emotional/behavioral disorders that I am reading was done in suburban and rural areas of Utah.
There’s a Mormon church within walking and sight distance of every inch of that state. Seriously.
I was at a conference this weekend, and we sang the hymn Trust and Obey. I was humbled and convicted by the words of many speakers this weekend, but by none more than the words of this song. I looked them up this morning because I wanted to share them with you all and I wanted to be sure they were right. In doing so, I happened upon a verse I didn’t know and that we never have sung at church (we’re a first, second, and last stanza kind of people). So here it is – let the words speak to you.
But we never can prove
the delights of his love
until all on the altar we lay;
for the favor he shows,
for the joy he bestows,
are for them who will trust and obey.
Trust and obey,
for there’s no other way
to be happy in Jesus
but to trust and obey.
10 kilometers. Not fast, not pretty, but done. Yay me! (Now I have to train to speed up.)
I know two little boys named Thomas who turn three today. One I know in person – I was at the hospital when he was born. While it was in precarious, somewhat scary circumstances, he was born safely and is a thriving little three year old today who loves Spiderman and just broke his leg trying to fly.
The other little Thomas has been an angel for three years. And I don’t really know him, or really know his mom, but she is one of the most beautiful souls out there on the internet, and she’s been through so much pain and agony, yet she is still so loving and still chooses to love, each and every day. And today is her Thomas’s birthday. So go over and love on Kristin some today, if you get a chance. Also, be sure and check out this post of hers, and be sure to pass along some kindness in honor of her babies.
Happy birthday, little men. You are both very, very loved.