ErinGoBragh

I'm kind of blah about this year's Thanksgiving agenda. In the previous seven or eight years of our relationship, my husband and I have had a chaotic time of making it to the gatherings on every side of our big families. This year, there has been little to no talk about it amongst the family, and my extended family decided to by-pass a big gathering altogether. Chris's mom is working on Thanksgiving. My sister's husband is working that afternoon, as well. Any get-togethers that are happening seem to be out of obligation or habit.

My parents decided to do a lunch. It is the whole turkey sha-bang, but it will be just my parents, my sister and her husband, Chris and me, and we have to do it early enough in the day so that my brother-in-law can head off to serve and protect that afternoon. Doesn't quite have that Thanksgiving feel. We eat dinner together all the time.

Chris's dad and his wife are doing something with her brother. They never include Chris or the other kids anymore it seems.

His grandma is doing a traditional Thanksgiving thing that I think most of the cousins may be at. But when she told us, she said: "I know you're probably going to Erin's parents for Thanksgiving but I'm making dinner too and at least try to stop by and say hi. I know we're not the priority, but..." I was totally offended by the intonation in her voice and what it implied. As if we haven't made them a priority every previous year! They're eating at the same time my family is, but I suppose we'll try to stop by, even though his family isn't a priority. Gosh.

On Black Friday, Chris's mom is making some kind of dinner for all of us kids to come to, but it doesn't sound like a big deal.

That's it. Maybe it's more than some folks do, but to me, this year will be more boring than ever before. I really only get to see the whole family on Thanksgiving, and we're big and lewd and have a blast. This year everyone seems so put off by the whole thing.

It just occured to me that this is a day set aside for being thankful and I'm not sounding very.I am. I really am thankful for all of the things that 2009 brought me: health, a stable job for both me and for my husband, the opportunites to persue areas that I am passionate about, insight and drive, a long awaited for and fast-coming niece, and of course the family and friends that love me. I'm still thankful for the people I'll get to spend time with, and for the tremendous number of calories I will consume tomorrow!

Last night I dreamed that an old friend from my college band sorority and I were driving on a narrow, crumbling highway. It was dangerous and falling into pieces, so we veered off the side into the wilderness. After driving through forest and desert we came upon some covered wagons and extremely rustic housing. We had discovered a lost Californian civilization called Valley de Salsa.

In Valley de Salsa, the folks were completely unaware of modern times and though they welcomed my friend and I, they were confused by our speech patterns and clothing. They fed us unleavened bread and buffalo meat, and we decided to stay with them. We pushed our beat up car into the forest to hide it from these ancient people. My friend had to continuously remind herself not to curse in front of them.

Funny thing, though: this was a lost civilization, but they did have a street sign in the village that annouced "Welcome to Valley de Salsa." Shifty, no?

Leave it to Californians...

 have attended eleven weddings in two years as of this month. One includes my own. I was in two others as well.

Thirteen- maybe more- weddings if you go back another year or so.

This is too many weddings.

I truly am happy for these couples. A wedding is a [mostly] joyous occasion and a lot of fun. (Sadly, for  about two of the weddings I attended I wasn't so confident that the couple will make it, but it's not my place to make that kind of judgement. Aloud, anyway.) I've come to think of weddings as a nice date. Usually you get an evening of playing dress-up, with a nice dinner and dancing to boot. Not too shabby.

Every wedding we went to I compared to my own because- and try not to take my bias so strongly here- our wedding was pretty rockin'. Really, it was just that cool in every way, and was a great party. Everyone talked about it later on for being intimate and fun. Now, I'm not a wedding snob and I do realize that not every couple wants that whole white-dress-church-cake-DJ-reception thing; In fact, I had wanted a backyard bonfire on the river with BBQ and beer, a whole white trash setup, but Chris and my parents vetoed it for a multitude of reasons. It woulda been more me but I certainly do not regret the wonderful wedding we had. Most weddings I go to fall far short of it's sheer awesomeness. Some come close, but are lacking in the fun department, or the food department, or the venue department, or the music department.  And the amazing department. But they're mostly nice. Others just make you want to stab yourself in the eye with the salad fork (or in one wedding instance last year, with the plastic spork from El Pollo Loco,) so that you can get out faster.

But, as I said, I am almost always happy to go to the weddings because they're typically people I love and support and am truly happy that they're making this committment. And, because I am female and mostly irrational, I always cry during the ceremony and at the key moments of the reception. It just always strikes me that two people found someone they love enough to want to be with, procreate with, share every aching moment with. It's a big deal. It still blows my mind sometimes when I think about how I made this decision with someone, too, and I'm still happy about it. Then I start getting all mushy on Chris and he looks at me like I'm nuts and then I'm back in reality.

So on Saturday my husband and I went to his buddy's wedding. Rather, I attended as a guest and Chris was a groomsman. This was a BIG Catholic wedding. I've only been to two Catholic weddings, and both times I was equally weirded out by the ceremony (or mass or whatever it's called.) This couple is great, however, and remind me a lot of Chris and me. They had their six-month-old baby girl baptized during the mass as well because so many of their family members were here from all over the world. She's probably the best baby I've ever known, and all day didn't fuss a bit but was happily curious.

The reception was probably the best one I've ever been to. It was equal to ours on the fun and food scale, and finally someone had a DJ that lived up to ours, but far superior in extravagance. Every detail- from linens to menus- was covered, and it really took the whole thing up a notch. The hosted bar reached the max the family had paid for in one hour. ONE HOUR! But the father of the groom instructed them to keep it open all night and he'd pick up the tab. Wowee.

We had so. much. fun. They really spared no expense on the affair. Dinner was fantastic, and there was not only a mariachi band to start of the night, but a small combo during dinner, then the DJ for the party. The decor was beautiful, and there was even a candy table. Chris is a party animal whether he wants to admit it or not, and we danced like crazy. My legs and butt still hurt from dancing. The couple was so happy, and I just know they'll be a solid life-long couple.

It was a good last wedding in a long, steady run of weddings. Unless it is a really important person to me, I hope I can avoid weddings for a year or so!

My brain took a vacation day and didn't tell me.

All day it's been one stupid thing after another. I bought a brand new shirt at Goodwill last week and went to take the tag off this morning and it ripped a hole in the back. I tried to stitch it up and now it looks stupid but I am so low on work clothes that I wore it anyway.

The plastic container that I brought my leftover stuffed bell-pepper in for lunch today popped open in the car and spilled all over the seat right after I had parked at work. I had to sit there and scoop crap up. I did manage to save enough for lunch.

I had scheduled an out-of-office meeting for one of our advisors and didn't even think to remind him, and he drove all the way to Fresno just to be reminded that he needed to turn back around and head back out to where his client lives- out close to where he lives. Not really my fault as he should have been aware of his schedule and he approved this appointment- I don't need to babysit these guys- but I still feel really bad and usually I'm more on top of it.

The office manager let me know that a gal was going to come in an get an application for employment to fill out and she'd make sure I had one available. Then she forgot and left for lunch. The lady comes in during the lunch hour (thanks, btw) and I realize I don't have it and I'm the only one in the office. After looking around where I thought it was, I called the manager who swears she has them in her desk. She doesn't. I call the processor who knows everything and had to be at home with her sick child today. She is leading me through the server to where I might find it to print it. We can't find it. It was an ordeal and totally embarassing. Finally she said she had some errands to do and would come back. I felt so lame. We found it on the server like a minute after she left.

Later on, about a dozen people all showed up in our teeny tiny office at once. I was trying to accomodate everyone (we have room to seat 5,) and get them all water or forms or whatever they need so I set the box of paper I had been carrying down on my desk. Several minutes later I sit back down and my hand lands in a puddle on my desk. Oh, dear God. I had knocked over my bottle of water and the entire thing had spilled out onto my desk. Several messages, some loose forms, a government document, and a couple of client files are soaked through. I looked around frantically and it didn't seem that anyone had noticed, so I casually brought a wad of a dozen or so paper towels in and discreetly started sopping. I swallowd my panic and the urge to hysterically laugh out loud and just smiled sweetly and even carried out casual conversation whilst working frantically to get it together. Then I disassembled the soaked client files (which were- thankfully- not old clients and therefor very thin files of basic forms and easy to replace,) and calmly made copies of the wet forms and placed the new copies in new files, quickly re-labeled them, and set out the messages and wet papers flat on my desk to dry. I got it done just in time to hand the advisor a nice clean file, so he'll never know what a dumb-ass I am. I'm grateful that the reception desk has one of those high counter-tops that allows some privacy on my desk space!

Funny thing- the gal was back again for her application! I hope she didn't notice otherwise she'll never want to work here with this circus clown!

In general I've just been very loopy today. I haven't made any huge mistakes, but I feel like no matter how hard I try to focus, I keep doing silly things.

I blame it on the reduced-calorie diet and increased physical activity I've been subjecting myself to lately. It's decreasing my brain power.

Once upon a time, after finishing up my B.A. in English and filled with bright visions of writing and creating for a living, I stumbled unaware into a career in the health industry. This twisting, brambled path led me into darkness. Amidst the darkest days of despair and anguish, lost in a forest of regret and self-loathing, I saw a glimmer of light between the trees.

Despite finding myself in an industry that I had no desire nor preparation to be a part of, I found a small interest in the raw mechanics of the human body.

The blood lab at the hospital would come every morning towards the end of my over-night shifts and draw their labs from patients. I came to know through the process of inputting every medical order what each lab measured and why. Surgeries were prepped for and tests performed, and I became familiar with the GI tract and respiratory system and the endocrine system and their many complications and solutions.

Later, at the SNF, I witnessed the devastation of dementia and was intrigued by stage IV wound care and how to teach someone who'd broken a hip or suffered a stroke to walk and eat again. As in the hospital, the corporate part and the AMA and the needless drugs and procedures and medications infuriated and outraged me, but the rest was like taking a great live-action health class.

You see, I hated the medical industry for the most part, but by God, I loved the marvels of the human body.

After leaving the SNF I started my CMT journey. Since becoming a massage therapist, I've taken additional classes to become certified in more specific areas like Reiki and Pre- and Post- Natal bodywork. The learning never has to end, and I love it.

I remember one time talking to my husband about things that interest me for my future career, and how much I've become an enthusiast about childbirth, particularly natural methods. I've read some amazing literature on childbirth in various world cultures and have always loved it. The conversation came and went.

This last May, we were on a trip to the coast for the weekend and I again brought up how I think I'd like to think about becoming a childbirth doula. Being a massage therapist is a great foundation. As we talked about it, a little green car changed lanes right in front of us. Across the back windshield was a giant sticker: www.my3doulas.com. Strange, to say the least. 

In class that same month, someone found an ad for the Kate Jordan Bodywork for the Childbearing Year Seminars in a massage magazine. This intense workshop would certify you in bodywork techniques for pre-natal, post-partum, and labor support. I signed up right away, and my passion was further ignited.

Now my sister is pregnant. Although I haven't worked with her as much lately as I'd have liked to, we talk about her pregnancy frequently. She surprised me by saying that she was seeking out the Bradley Birthing Method classes in our area, (I'm so proud,) and she'd like to have a doula or a labor support present, and that if I feel that by that time I would be confident enough she thinks I'd be the best person. I am overjoyed. She contacted the most well-known doula in the area (there are not many here) and though she was unable to meeting with my sister for classes, they got to talking about me. Doula says that my certification is wonderful and the greatest thing have as a doula, and that I should give her a call. She's had a few other ladies contact her about mentorship, so if she gets enough of us, she can bring the doula training right here to Fresno.

I have her number in my planner. I keep staring at it. 

What if everything- from my English degree and interst in anthropology, to my "accidental" step into healthcare, to massage therapy, to my additional certification, has been leading me to this? What if all along these heartbreaks and triumphs have been setting a foundation to do something that I am sincerely interested in? And with a pregnant sister who needs me, I have more reason than ever to persue it now.

Standing on the cusp of something unexpected, I am almost frightened. This may mean leaving a job that has treated me well for a year (though isn't at all what I want for a career.) It may mean another financial sacrifice. It may mean changing everything.

I haven't called her. I'm mustering something up inside that I cannot describe.

A couple months ago- when we brought on the "help" at work that turned out to be anything but and I was stressed out about so many things- my husband sent an instant message to me at the office:

"Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Let the day's own trouble be sufficient for the day."  -Matthew 6:34

My husband does not read the Bible, but came across this verse somewhere that day and thought it might help me get through the struggles I was facing. It was completely appropriate, and a nice word of advice.

I wrote it on an over-sized post-it note and stuck it to the wall of my desk so that I would remember it.  Later on that day, I shared it with a co-worker.

Her eyes filled with tears, and she thanked me for sharing. She's having trouble at home along with stress at the office. She believes that God sent that message to me so that I could share it and comfort her. She printed it out and taped it to her computer.

Last week at work was extremely tough. Some things happened that resulted in- well, let's just say that things really couldn't be worse, but we're a great team and pulling together now. I really can't go into more detail.

The morning this all came to light, one of the owners passed by my desk on his way outside. He paused and said, "I like your scripture." He told me that the previous night at 9:30PM, he was sitting at my desk, finally getting to eat his dinner and watching the locksmith change the locks and he saw the verse. He thought it was just right.

I was suddenly filled with hope.

This is how God speaks. It has taken me all these years to finally see it. As a kid I would sit in front of my open Bible and beg God to speak to me. Years of silence have left me jaded and my faith dangling by a thread.

God speaks in the post-it on a coworker's desk that wasn't meant for you but found you anyway at the right time. God speaks in the hunch of the belly, when we just know something. God speaks in intuition and consiousness. God speaks in the coincidence that seems unlikely, the subtleties of convenient events. God speaks in the voice of a friend or a stranger.  Sometimes God uses the voice of Mother Nature, in the whisper of the swaying pines filling you with serenity and hope and something solid to believe in.

This is God's voice. God is speaking. I am listening.

On the cusp of November, NaNoWriMo staring me in the face and being fully prepared with plot and notes to boot, my MacBook Pro kicked the bucket.

Kicked the bucket!

Really?! I thought as the screen remained black despite my repeated clicking of the power button. Reliable and a faithful companion through university essays and poems and hundreds of blogs and even more hours of internet browsing in living rooms and offices and coffee shops across Fresno County, finished in a moment when it suddenly refused to turn on.

They tell me the logic board is shot. Heh. My logic board feels shot lately, too, so I can't blame it. It'll take about $310 to fix, which we simply cannot afford until long after the holidays. The problem with Apple products is that they're never cheap to fix when they break. So my husband pulled out his old PC for me and set it up on my craft table in the office. He'd been using the monitor in a duel-monitor setup with his Mac. Good thing we still had it. I had dreams of taking my laptop with me to the coffee shop to work on my novel, devoid of the distractions of home, but this will have to do. Somehow I think that I'll be getting a lot less writing done than I'd anticipated.

This weekend I decided to be creative. On Friday my mother-in-law hosted a pumpkin-carving party. I carved a swine flu face. I promise to post pics later. On Halloween Chris and I decorated the door in cobwebs and set our jack-o-lanterns out front, and fed chocolate to about half a dozen kids from the complex while we ate roasted brussels sprouts and watched a movie. My hands got antsy, so I crocheted a baby beanie to go with the baby sweater I did last weekend. On Sunday I decided to make the invitations for my sister's baby shower, which I'm hosting on December 6th. The blank notes were cheaper than pre-made invites, and now they're far cuter. I busted out the watercolors and Q-tips and pink ribbon and made a simple but cute invitation that I think will be well-recieved.

As I sat there doodling and playing with water colors, I was reminded how many art supplies I have at home and how much I like to create, even if I'm not the best at every medium. Now that my office is somewhat organized, I should feel freer to make and do.

It is November 3rd, and even though I have a computer set up, I haven't started a single word for NaNoWriMo. I had planned on waking up on Sunday morning, walking to Starbucks with my laptop and writing for hours to jump things off, but since I am sans laptop, I am less enthused. What is wrong with me?! I was so excited, but now that November is here, I think I am afraid. I need to remind myself that this isn't an essay for school- this is FUN stuff! Tonight I'll start, I swear I will.

I mentioned briefly not long ago that my sister called and started talking about a baby name they were considering. Her husband fell in love with this name out of the blue with absolutely no discussion about it and was insistent upon it. Insistent! She wasn't sold on it, but he kept calling the baby that until she couldn't help but think of it as the baby's name.

She and her husband had decided that they were not going to reveal the name they chose until the baby was born in order to avoid comments and criticism, so when she was talking to me about it I was in the dark. But she did end up giving me enough info about what she thought about the name to get me thinking, and I started narrowing it down to a couple names I suspected it might be but had nothing concrete to really make a guess.

That night I had a dream that I was at their home and they were telling me that they would never tell me her name- even after she was born- unless I guessed it. And I only got three guesses. I was bawling with disappointment, and blurted out one guess- Allison. I was correct, and my brother in law stood up in rage, pounded his fist on the table, and accused me of cheating and threatened me severely.

Strange dream, so I told my sister, who informed me that my dream guess was pretty close. Right away I knew that it had to be one of the names I was suspecting. And I was right!

I feel almost kinda maybe psychic.

So, they've officially decided on it, and told not only my parents but my aunt's whole family. I'm assuming it is safe to spread the word!

Her name will be Addison.

Middle name is probably going to be Joy.

Addison Joy.

Frankly, I wasn't sold on it right away either. I didn't tell my sister this, though.  This is an extremely trendy name right now, and I'm not one for trends. Or nicknames, and she's sure to be called Addy.

But of course I like it, and it is growing on me, and her buddies can call her A.J. when she gets older which is totally cool and something I would have loved to be able to do with my name as a kid.

My niece has a name!

I would like to learn how to knit.

Everywhere I look lately, someone is knitting something awesome. I don't know if it's just trendy right now or what. I've always thought I was rare for my age for doing hand crafts such as this, but I see a lot of young folks knitting these days. I see baby hats, blankets, sweaters that I would just love to make myself and wear, stockings, you name it. I want to knit baby clothes for my niece, and sweaters for myself. Knitting is repetitive and seems to be relatively simple, and the type of project I could cozy up on the new couch and work on late at night, (and by late I mean 8:00PM because I'm an old lady at heart.) Autumn weather begs for projects like this. I am drawn to tactile crafts that result in something functional.

I'm a hooker instead. My mom is/was a crocheter before she was a quilter, and both she and grandma taught me at a young age, and I love how intricate and complex crocheted works can be in their detailed stiches. I'd like to start in on some fine work such as lace. I enjoy crocheting very much and am quite good at it, but find that I like the look and versatility of knit for practical items. One year for Christmas, my mom bought me a teach-yourself-to-knit kind of kit, and it went beautifully, but that was ages ago and I think she might even have the book and needles at her house still! I don't remember how but know that I would pick it up again right away.

The problem for me in learning a skill like this is that I hate practicing on measly useless items like sampler scarves. It I am going to spend money on yarn (not cheap!) then I want to make something useful, but why spend money on and make something you intend to use if it's not going to be any good because it's a practice piece?

I've been dying to craft. Mom is going to come help me get started on one of my quilt tops again, but I want a couch project. About two years ago I started a sampler afghan so that I could learn more stitches and patterns, but I've been getting a little frustrated with it. I chose Autumn brown, orange, and yellow and wanted it to be an Autumn afghan, but I have a horrible habit of starting multiple projects and leaving them mid-way because I find something new to start (Mom says I'm just like my Aunt Gayle, and I've seen her quilt studio... Mom's right,) and I think this afghan may not be finished in time to see Autumn for another year.

But, I'm sure that with a niece due in February, I'd have plenty of motivation to finish up that dress and beanie!

WE HAVE COUCHES!

The sofa and loveseat came yesterday. My, they're even nicer than I remembered from the store! They're a much darker brown than I remembered (which I love) and inviting and clean and comfy cozy. The cat has show no interest in making them scratching posts, probably because one claw got painfully caught in the tight microfiber weave and now she's scared to try. We had discussed trying out a new arrangement of the living room now that the large bookshelf is in the office, and when I arrived home after work the room was completely different and feels very...settled. I so happy about it! I am so glad we made this investment.

There are two things left that I really want to do to our apartment to achieve the homey feel. The lovely little kitchen needs a punch, and my designer husband suggested making a wall piece will paint chips that we can get for free from the home improvement warehouse. Did you know that the color names that are printed on the chips can be erased with a white eraser? Neither did I. We intend to do the whole wall over the table in a paint chip color study.

The second thing I want to do is to get some photographs of family and friends on the walls. The bum part of this is buying frames, which gets pricey quickly. I'll browse through some thrift stores first; I don't really need the frames to all match as long as I carefully arrange them, and it is easy to spruce up old frames. But now that the couches are anchored to walls, they're begging for something of interest in that blank space.

One whole wall in the living room is mirrored (odd, I know, but I learned to love it,) and now that the small bookcase is up against that wall, I am imagining using it as a display shelf for albums and lining candle on top so that the flames glimmer in the mirror. Everything suddenly feels so established and comfortable and I even caught myself saying last night that there was a good place for a baby to play in the living room which evoked a horrible glare and scolding from Chris before he quickly retreated to the office.

I meant my niece. Duh.