This

I woke up late this morning (by choice), moved slowly through my morning routine (because it's cold), and was in a general, sleep-deprived haze. Needless to say, I was not functioning at full mental capacity. But right as I walked out the door, right when I looked over the frost-covered rooftops of my little town and took a deep breath of the clear, frigid winter air, I had a revelation so clear that I stopped dead in my tracks. No, I hadn't forgotten my keys inside or left the oven on (two things I've very nearly done before); I simply realized all the little things that led me to "This."

Darius Rucker is a favorite of mine, both because he has a great voice and because he's a tie of sorts to Charleston. I love his song, "This," where he's singing about all the little things we "miss" in life; from traffic lights to closed doors/lost opportunities, lead us to "this," our current place in life. I've been living a pretty happy life over the last six months, so even when I'm thinking about my old life in SC or struggling to establish myself in a new town, I don't feel like I've "missed" anything. But this morning, I realized all I missed, and how I ended up with all "this." Enjoy.

When I was in school, I was sure that I was going to be accepted into the Coordinated Program, which meant I'd be a dietitian almost as soon as I left school. I'd get to wear my cool lab coat and I'd work alongside doctors and nurses all day. My job shadowing, my choice of electives, everything, was meant to get me into that program. Then, I didn't. I was way down the list in a long line of very qualified candidates. Oops.

I regrouped after that and set my eyes on an internship. Not quite as much fun (aka, not covered by school loans) and much harder to obtain than a spot in the CP, I eventually settled my sights on an internship that would give me the credentials I'd need, a master's, and the opportunity to create curriculum that would hopefully have an impact on an under served population. Oh, and it was going to be in Charleston, Illinois. That didn't happen.

By the end of my senior year I was burnt out on school, frustrated with my options for further education (and I thought a bachelor's was expensive...), and really just wanted to get moving with my adult life, so I moved to Charleston, South Carolina. I met more wonderful people and made more friends than I deserved, and I found a church where I learned more in three years than I had in all the time before that.

But this morning, I realized that because I missed my time in the CP, I didn't end up staying and working in the Akron area. Instead, I got to move to Charleston and experience a new part of the country and meet new people. When I didn't get that internship, I missed a chance to pay for my master's and live on private loans for three years. Now, my employer will pay for my education while I work at my super fun job which actually asks for us to create programming. And while I'm still missing all my friends in SC, I'm hopeful that in the near future, I'll have another "this" story!

Meow

Since I was five, my family has always had at least one cat. We've had quite a few memorable ones, including Daddy Kitty (who was female), Strawberry (who thought she should be human), Munchkin (who churned out more kittens than I thought possible), and Fluffy (who is now a sweet cat despite the fact that she was an evil, evil thing when we first got her). Up until last week, if you had asked me how I felt about cats, I would have told you that I thought cats were sweet, mostly docile creatures who were nice because they ignored you and left you alone most of the time. Now? Cats are demon spawn. Much like Lucifer, they are charming and cute until they think they can take over the world. Then, all hell breaks loose.

I went to a pet shop in Logan over Veteran’s Day weekend. I had been researching whether or not it would be feasible for me to get a parakeet and decided to see if anyone at the local store could offer some advice. I met a nice employee, we talked about the birds, and I headed towards the door. I would not have even noticed there were kittens had one little paw not stuck out and grabbed my shirt. But one did, and I was drawn in. This little kitten was so friendly, doing its best to try and slip through the bars so it could get closer to me and purring nonstop. I wanted to buy it on the spot, but walked out. Like any mature adult, I consulted three people about whether or not I should buy the cat: my mom, my sister, and my best friend. All three said no. So I spent five days trying to talk myself out of the cat before finally returning to the pet store to buy it.

The first five days were great. Mose is a fluffy, cuddly cat, and he liked to curl up in my lap while I wrote. Each night he slept on the small of my back, purring all the while. He liked to play with the catnip mice I bought him, entertaining himself for the better part of an hour most nights. He was so cute that I was almost willing to accept that I had taken two more steps towards crazy cat lady old spinsterhood by welcoming him into my house. Then, all hell broke loose.

I forgot that kittens don’t retract their claws very well. My legs are covered in little kitten claw marks from every time he has attempted to climb up into the chair by launching himself, claws first, onto my lap only to slip and hang by one claw onto my pants. I have also caught him hanging from clothes in my closet by one claw after he attempted to climb up them.

I forgot that kittens think everything that moves is something to attack. This includes my fingers as they move across the keyboard, my feet as I walk from one end of the apartment to the other, and my toes as I tap them to the beat of the music. One word: ouch.

I forgot that whatever you’re doing is the most interesting thing in the world and must be interrupted immediately. When I read he sits down right in the middle of the book. When I write in my journal he bites the pen and tries to run off with it. As I've been working on my writing projects this month, more than one paragraph has had ======= or ppppppppppppp or 888888888888 typed across the page. The best was they day he hit the backspace key.

I forgot that cats have no regard for your sleeping habits. Each night as I attempt to drift to sleep, he runs up and down the hallway, then jumps around in the boxes that I have yet to unpack before returning to the bedroom to jump in the clothes hamper, onto the dresser, onto the bed, and into the closet before repeating the pattern for the next thirty minutes.

So yes, my cat acts like demon spawn, but I really like my Mose. He's just so fluffy. He’s adorable when he plays with his catnip mouse. He runs to the door each night when I get home from work. He curls up next to me when I’m on the couch and purrs like mad. He looks so cute when he sits just so in the windowsill. Like I said, almost willing to accept that I’m two (maybe three) steps closer to crazy cat lady old spinsterhood. (Pray for me…)

Dream On...

"You have a lot of dreams, you know that?" It was craft time at OSU Extension, as we stood around a Christmas tree, decking it out with pretty lights and sparkly "ting." I looked up at the co-worker who said this with a quizzed look. She picked up on my look and proceeded to list off the three different dreams or "life goals" that I had brought up at one point or another. I laughed and simply responded that "she had no idea." As we finished our project, I expanded on my statement and laid out my various dreams.

1.) I want to be on Jeopardy! Between my extensive buzzer training in Bible Bowl and my knack for remembering some of the most random facts, I think I could be successful. I even have a great piece for the "player profile" they do after the first break.

2.) I want to play the block piece of "Sleigh Ride" with an orchestra. Boston Pops is preferred, but playing with any group that tackles the song would be acceptable.

3.) I want to show a cow. Considering the fact that the Jr. Fair has adult showmanship each year and kids willing to loan me a project animal for half an hour, this dream could be realized next summer.

Those three are just the ones my office knows about. Since I'm not good at narrowing down my goals, here's the rest:

4.) I want to get my pilot's license.

5.) When I get my first house, I'm going to buy a joggling board for my front porch.

6.) I want to be fluent in three languages, one of them French.

7.) I am going to figure out where my Homonai relatives lived before immigrating and then I'm going to visit that town. I'm also going to visit my Canadian great-grandparent's hometown just for kicks. Thankfully for my budget, the Birds and Henrys have been in Ohio so long there's no need to travel.

8.) I want a beach house on Sullivan's Island. (Even though Kacy thinks it's the worst beach in the world)

9.) I want to ride in a hot air balloon, sky dive, and bungee jump.

10.) I want to be a professor. My current job allows for this possibility. Have I mentioned how much I love my job?

11.) I want to make it back to SC within the next six months just so I can sit back and enjoy a Sunday morning with my Young Life friends (I've been trying to find an Ohio version of ya'll, and I'm realizing just how irreplaceable ya'll are!)

12.) I want to have book published- by a real publisher, not this Amazon self-publication nonsense!

13.) I want to live through tonight. I'm normally not bugged by bad weather (I did get to see a funnel cloud once and got to cross that off the list!), but living in a rural area with already sketchy power...I'm not thinking I'll sleep tonight ;)

Have a great evening, everyone, and stay safe, all of my Ohio people.

Apologies

I have a pride issue. I like to think that I operate on a higher plane of existence than I actually do, and I act like it far too often. But as the verse says, "Pride goes before a fall, and a haughty spirit goes before destruction." Over the last two days my pride has taken a fall, and my spirit, while not destroyed, suffered a few bruises. Allow me to offer some apologies to explain what has happened.

1.) I apologize to everyone I have secretly and not so secretly mocked regarding technological abilities...aka my mother and most other individuals over the age of 40. Yesterday I was unable to properly format a Word document even though the formatting was cutting and pasting. I also discovered that me using special features on Outlook is akin to me using an iPad: it just can't be done. Oh, and that was definitely me in the parking garage today looking for a slot to swipe my card when all I really needed to do was scan it.

2.) I apologize to my uncles for ever using you as an example in "bad behavior" stories. I recently discovered through some conversations that even the worst stories you, my mother, or my grandmother have told regarding your behavior as young adults (and, let's face it, as adults now) is child's play compared to what some other people's uncles have done and continue to do. In fact, I'm going to start filling out the sainthood paperwork for you all right now.

3.) I apologize to everyone of my colleagues in Ohio who has been referred to by a wrong name over the last four months. That includes you, Abbey/Amy, Taylor/Liz, Sandy/Lisa, and Jocelyn/Shannon. Although, in my defense, can I really be to blame that you are nearly identical to other people I in my life?

Lots of apologies all around tonight. On that note, I'm not going to apologize for ending this post. TTFN!

GPS

"No. No! NO! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" I was traveling down a busy street, unable to divert my eyes from the road to figure out why, all of the sudden, my GPS decided that I needed to go from the far right lane to the far left lane in less than 30 feet. At the next light I took a second to decide why my machine freaked out on me all of the sudden. After a quick glance at the turn-by-turn directions, it appeared as though the machine gained a brain of its own and decided to override my request to avoid the death trap that is I-71's construction zone.

This is just the latest of the many, many mishaps sponsored by Magellan. Back in June I decided that it would be in my best interest to get a GPS unit. I wasn't sure that I could trust myself to print and remember to carry a Google map with directions through two airports, a hotel, and a rental car. I was scared that I wouldn't be able to find the building where my interview would be held, so I went out and bought an item I swore I'd never own.

Since then, it's been nothing but "fun." Magellan has a habit of not telling me about turns until they're less than two seconds from happening, usually after it told me to go to the furthest point from that turn less than ten seconds prior. That's how I got stuck driving in circles around freeway exits one day for twenty minutes when all I wanted to do was get to my hotel.

For as much as Magellan "forgets" to tell me that I need to turn, it has no problem incessantly yelling at me for no reason on other occasions. "RED LIGHT CAMERA AHEAD! RED LIGHT CAMERA AHEAD!" That's what it was yelling at me today, instead of telling me that I was about to miss a turn. Thankfully, at least one of us was paying attention.

Living in a rural area, there's not much in the way of reception- my radio gets NPR, Southern gospel, and only two local stations during the drive to work. From 1/2 mile outside of Logan until 1/2 mile outside McArthur, there is no cellphone reception, leaving approximately 20 miles of silence. This lack of reception applies to Magellan also- it's worse than useless getting me from point A to point B anywhere south of Logan (which is pretty much most of my travel area.).

So why keep it? That's the question I ask myself every day. As much as I like playing with technology, I still prefer my paper maps. Magellan, I hope you enjoy looking at the inside of the glove box.

Big Happenings in a Small Town

Tuesday, we had all the components of a blockbuster here in Logan. Action, suspense, police, romance- everything. It was JUST like a movie.

I was so close to sleep- that happy state of being super tired but super comfy and knowing that in just a few minutes you'll easily be off to dreamland. Then, in quick succession- sirens, followed by the sound of screeching brakes, two booms, and more sirens. Needless to say, sleep was over for the time being.

The evidence of the action was easily viewed from the front window of my apartment. At the intersection was a semi and the remains of two cars. Car parts were everywhere. A fire truck arrived, followed by two police cars that literally skidded onto the scene.

Suspense was in the air, and people poured in from surrounding homes to stand at the scene and watch the events unfold. At one point, I counted thirty people standing at the curb. They stood with arms folded, occasionally gesturing to the scene of the accident or into the air as if they were making some great intellectual point. A short time after the accident, dogs showed up on scene. Were there drugs involved? No, some of the mini mob were out walking their dogs before they came across the accident, so a Basset Hound and a Schnauzer were included in the mix.

Then, out of nowhere- romance. What? Okay, so it wasn't anything thrilling. Turns out, two of the gawkers were a couple. When the police shooed the growing crowd back away from the scene so the tow trucks could move in, the couple walked hand in hand into Speedway to grab a cup of coffee before returning back to the curb to observe the cleanup.

Long story short, the events of the night were caused by a sheriff's deputy who was on his way to a call (hence the sirens) when a woman coming from the left hit the back end of the cruiser (boom number one), which sent it flying into the semi (boom number two). All that resulted in an hour of entertainment and, thankfully, no injuries. Clearly, it doesn't take much to entertain the locals (and myself) on a Tuesday evening.

Fall Freakout

There's a stretch of road on my drive to work that gives me pause every day. Normally my driving paranoia keeps my eyes plastered on the road, but here I give myself a split second to take in the panorama. What's so special about this particular piece of highway? It's the view. 360° of clear views over rolling fields and forest.

A month ago when I was still making the rounds and meeting everyone for the first time, my little piece of small talk was about how excited I was to see fall for the first time in three years. "How do you like the area?" "It's beautiful. I can't wait to see what fall looks like around here." That was a popular exchange. That was followed by, "How do you like living in the middle of all the trees?" "Oh, it's so pretty. I can't wait for the fall!" Yeah, I talked a big talk.

Labor Day weekend, I was driving with my brother on the way to pick up a friend for a golf outing. My eyes widened in horror as I noticed something out of the ordinary- the leaves weren't green, and a few of them HAD FALLEN TO THE GROUND! Then, when I got back to my apartment I noticed that the tree in my neighbor's yard had a touch of the yellow disease as well.

The trees weren't the only thing that seemed to be withering before my eyes. The beautiful, purple-mauve Joe Pye weeds that were growing along the side of the road were fading to brown and being replaced by goldenrod. In fact, all of the meadows were losing all colors but goldenrod. The few fields of corn that exist in Vinton County were changing colors the same way that my aunt and uncle's fields were- the tops were still vibrant, but they were scary shades of brown on the bottom.

I had my fall freak out that day. All of the sudden I no longer wanted to see the leaves change. I no longer wanted summer to end because that meant that winter was not far off, and I'm still not sure how I'm going to handle that season change. I have a little book of "Pearls Before Swine" that features the crocodiles. In one strip, the rat has convinced the crocs that tomato seeds are actually zebra seeds and if they pick the tomatoes before they're ready, the crocs would be killing the zebras. The last strip shows one of the crocs giving mouth-to-mouth to a tomato shouting, "STAY AWAY FROM THE LIGHT!" I felt like that croc. I didn't want the trees to die, I wanted to run around and stick the leaves back on the tree. I wanted to water the flowers and make them pretty purple colors again. I was out of control.

Thankfully, my fall freak out only lasted a few days and now I'm back to enjoying everything I like about fall. The days are just warm enough to enjoy sans jacket, the skies are clear blue almost every day, and the trees are turning the gorgeous shades of red, orange, and yellow that I missed for three years. And that panoramic view? I can't wait until it's peak color season. Fall freak out over, I can now turn my attention to the next problem: cold weather. Ladies and gents, I was spoiled by South Carolina, and I'm going to miss my 70° Decembers.