I'm driving along the highway in New Mexico, probably 30 minutes from Arizona, and I'm following two semi's. All of the sudden they step on their brakes. I figured they were pulling into the weigh station and there was a back-up or something, so I start pulling into the left-hand lane. I see these headlights coming right at me! Ahhhh!
I quickly pull back into the right-hand lane, and the car (which is straddling the shoulder and the left-hand lane) drives past me for about 1/4 mile, and then proceeds to do a 3-point turn in the middle of the highway (while an approaching car has to stop and wait for them). This was OBVIOUS intoxication. I have no idea where this car managed to get on the wrong side of the highway, or how long they had been driving this way. We were probably 1/2 mile from any exit/entrance ramp. Who knows how long they had been on there.
I don't care how it happened, but it scared the crap out of me!! What am I, a magnet for drunk drivers on the wrong side of the highway?! I don't get it. I'm sure glad this time didn't end up the same way as the last, and I know the car behind me followed them and hopefully called the police. For all of you praying for my safety, your prayers were seen in action tonight as I was spared from any harm. Thank God for His protection!!
Seriously though, I could've done without the scare... :)
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
My Trip in Pictures
Me and the girls starting out the trip in Houston, TX. Everything went really well, including loading the truck. One of my neighbors helped me out and we were about to load everything fairly quickly. That evening I dropped the truck back off at the storage place and they hooked up the trailer. The next morning I came back with my van and loaded it onto the trailer. It's rather surprising that you need no experience whatsoever to drive on of these vehicles. They don't even ask if you can. They just hand you the keys and expect you to know how. Maybe they're hoping you don't and that way if you damage it they can charge you some enormous fees. Who knows.
Personally, I think Sammy has the best seat in the place. She has the entire passenger seat. The way it's arranged, the space underneath is filled with stuff to make it all flat. She gets to lay back and relax. Must be nice...
El Paso, Texas has been my favorite city so far. It's surrounded by mountains, and the city itself is very hilly. It reminded me of Altoona, Pennsylvania, a place I have visited a number of times. It was like the western version of that city. Everything was built to blend in with the mountains and the desert look of the surrounding area. The buildings were all tan, and there were no skyscrapers that I could see. I was happy that I finally reached this city after 5 hours of being in the middle of nowhere. And as soon as I passed through here it was all flat nothingness again. Boring!
It's on to New Mexico, which was only about 10 miles west of El Paso. 
Just west of Las Cruces, New Mexico there was a checkpoint. I was glad to see it, but it was strange as I have never driven so close to the border. You are driving along and then they block off the highway and merge everyone into this line where somewhere around 10 cameras (probably thermal and x-ray) are positioned to view all the cars passing by. Then you come up to the drug-sniffing dog (pictured below), that sniffs every car slowly passing by. Then you reach the checkpoint, where someone either lets you pass or stops you. I, of course, was allowed to just pass through, and had no issues...thank goodness. Not that it would have been a big deal because I wasn't transporting illegals, drugs or weapons. Pretty sure they weren't looking for lamps and furniture in their search. lol
The "sniffer dog"Saturday, March 26, 2011
Am I really doing this?!
Tomorrow I pick up the truck that I will fill with all of my personal belongings. The following day I will begin my trip across Texas, a little of New Mexico and into Arizona, where I will start my vacation/move. My stuff is sitting here all packed up, and I began packing the clothes for my trip tonight. The closet that held my clothes is now empty, and as I stared at it, I just couldn't help but think to myself, "Oh my word. Am I really doing this?! As in like 4 days I'll be in a new state, looking for a new place to live...again?!"
Yup.
"Here I go again on my own, going down the only road I've ever known. Like a drifter I was born to walk alone. I've made up my mind. I ain't wastin' no more time. So, here I go again." That pretty much sums it up. Thank you Whitesnake.
There are so many feelings going on right now. I'm sad because I'm leaving someone I've been with for 2 1/2 years. I'm sad because it didn't work out the way I had hoped it would. I'm sad because I didn't do things the way I should have. I'm sad because I'll be leaving my neighbors, who have become good friends. I'm nervous because I have to start all over again. I'm nervous because I haven't lived on my own since before my accident. I'm nervous because I don't know where I'm going to end up, where exactly I'm going to live, and how it's all going to work out. I'm nervous about money. Am I going to have enough to make it? I'm excited about starting over. I'm excited about making new friends and returning to...well...myself really. I'm excited about living in the desert and reveling in it's beauty. I'm excited about new possibilities. I'm excited about finding a new church to get involved in. I'm excited to be able to see some of my family every now and then. I'm happy that I am taking this time for myself and following my heart. I'm thankful to God for giving me the means to do this, and for working out all the details thus far. I'm thankful for friends and family who have encouraged me and prayed for me along the way and continue to! So many emotions and feelings going along with all of this.
So, after all this I say to myself, "Marci, you ARE doing this, and you're going to be fine!" And then I try really hard to believe myself! ;)
Yup.
"Here I go again on my own, going down the only road I've ever known. Like a drifter I was born to walk alone. I've made up my mind. I ain't wastin' no more time. So, here I go again." That pretty much sums it up. Thank you Whitesnake.
There are so many feelings going on right now. I'm sad because I'm leaving someone I've been with for 2 1/2 years. I'm sad because it didn't work out the way I had hoped it would. I'm sad because I didn't do things the way I should have. I'm sad because I'll be leaving my neighbors, who have become good friends. I'm nervous because I have to start all over again. I'm nervous because I haven't lived on my own since before my accident. I'm nervous because I don't know where I'm going to end up, where exactly I'm going to live, and how it's all going to work out. I'm nervous about money. Am I going to have enough to make it? I'm excited about starting over. I'm excited about making new friends and returning to...well...myself really. I'm excited about living in the desert and reveling in it's beauty. I'm excited about new possibilities. I'm excited about finding a new church to get involved in. I'm excited to be able to see some of my family every now and then. I'm happy that I am taking this time for myself and following my heart. I'm thankful to God for giving me the means to do this, and for working out all the details thus far. I'm thankful for friends and family who have encouraged me and prayed for me along the way and continue to! So many emotions and feelings going along with all of this.
So, after all this I say to myself, "Marci, you ARE doing this, and you're going to be fine!" And then I try really hard to believe myself! ;)
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Nerves
Last night I had a series of dreams, or should I say, nightmares.
First one was that I was on my moving trip and we were at a campsite. There was a disturbance in a bush and this bear came out of it and mauled Sammy (my dog). I grabbed Neena (my other dog) and ran inside the car. The bear proceeded to chase us and climbed on top of the car, roaring and stomping, crushing the windshield. Someone else at the campsite heard the screams and came over with a shotgun and shot the bear dead. But Sammy died.
The next dream I had was that we were out walking a trail and came across a rattlesnake. Neena started barking at it and I couldn't get her away from it. It bit her and killed her.
Next dream I had was that we were at a campsite for the night and some creepy guy was following me around and asking me a bunch of questions. He wasn't creepy in the lonely sense. He was creepy in the serial killer sense. I got spooked and left the campsite, but he was at the exit staring me down as I left.
What is up with all of these nightmares? Obviously I did not have a clear enough head in the middle of sleeping to be able to ask myself these questions. However, I do remember praying after waking up during one of these nightmares. I remembering praying to God to keep Satan away from my dreams. It's amazing how he is present even in the seemingly innocent times in life.
I'm pretty sure I'm in for some spiritual attacks on along my journey. Loneliness, regret, insecurity and disbelief are always along for the ride. They usually hitchhike a ride right when things seem to be going well. But it's all about how you deal with these unwanted guests. I hope that when each little struggle comes along, that I deal with them in the right way, but I'm pretty sure I'm going to mess up here and there. It's the human nature of things.
So now that I'm making plans and getting ready to leave these dreams hit me and start creating fear where there was hope. But I know what this is. Whether it is a spiritual attack or just bad pizza, these dreams could have become a foothold, which can then create enough fear to ruin all hope. I'm determined not to let that happen!!
First one was that I was on my moving trip and we were at a campsite. There was a disturbance in a bush and this bear came out of it and mauled Sammy (my dog). I grabbed Neena (my other dog) and ran inside the car. The bear proceeded to chase us and climbed on top of the car, roaring and stomping, crushing the windshield. Someone else at the campsite heard the screams and came over with a shotgun and shot the bear dead. But Sammy died.
The next dream I had was that we were out walking a trail and came across a rattlesnake. Neena started barking at it and I couldn't get her away from it. It bit her and killed her.
Next dream I had was that we were at a campsite for the night and some creepy guy was following me around and asking me a bunch of questions. He wasn't creepy in the lonely sense. He was creepy in the serial killer sense. I got spooked and left the campsite, but he was at the exit staring me down as I left.
What is up with all of these nightmares? Obviously I did not have a clear enough head in the middle of sleeping to be able to ask myself these questions. However, I do remember praying after waking up during one of these nightmares. I remembering praying to God to keep Satan away from my dreams. It's amazing how he is present even in the seemingly innocent times in life.
I'm pretty sure I'm in for some spiritual attacks on along my journey. Loneliness, regret, insecurity and disbelief are always along for the ride. They usually hitchhike a ride right when things seem to be going well. But it's all about how you deal with these unwanted guests. I hope that when each little struggle comes along, that I deal with them in the right way, but I'm pretty sure I'm going to mess up here and there. It's the human nature of things.
So now that I'm making plans and getting ready to leave these dreams hit me and start creating fear where there was hope. But I know what this is. Whether it is a spiritual attack or just bad pizza, these dreams could have become a foothold, which can then create enough fear to ruin all hope. I'm determined not to let that happen!!
Friday, March 18, 2011
Grandpa Was Right...
When I was in my senior year of high school my grandpa sent me to Arizona for my spring break. He had an ulterior motive, and didn't do a good job of hiding it! He sent me to stay with my aunt in Flagstaff. I went to the Grand Canyon, Slide Rock, and Sedona, and got to go to class with my aunt at Northern Arizona University. Of course his dream for me was to move out there, stay with my aunt, and go to that school. Not to mention the fact that he was starting to consider the idea of wintering in Arizona himself. The idea of being able to visit family while there was definitely appealing.
I, of course, had other plans. Well, not really other plans. I didn't have any plans per say. I just had grandiose dreams of going to England and studying at an American university there, studying business. What did I know?! Despite the fact that I had absolutely no idea what I was going to do, I wasn't going to let anyone else tell me what they thought I should be doing. Not very smart, but that's the way it was.
So I decided that Grandpa's idea for my future wasn't what I wanted and set out on a path of wandering around aimlessly through school for the next several years, changing my major a few times and racking up school loans. Again, not very smart.
My grandpa started spending his winters in Mesa, Arizona, and enjoying every minute of it. He had severe arthritis, and the desert heat and low humidity helped those achy bones survive the winters. Michigan wasn't the place for someone in pain (as I have grown to learn myself). He never made me feel guilty for not following his ideas for college and life in AZ, nor did he really ever talk about it much. But he did talk about me visiting, and shared stories of his winter adventures in the desert.
My brother actually made it out to Phoenix before I did, and got to enjoy being spoiled by my grandpa during his winter there. Grandpa loved spoiling us kids, and did the same with my brother. I was secretly jealous, but happy that at least one of his grandkids had the chance to spend time with him in AZ.
My grandpa passed away a year and a half ago. I was thinking about him today as I was planning out my trip and plotting a couple of apartment searches in Mesa, close to where he lived. I think he would've been really excited that I am moving to Arizona. He would have enjoyed spoiling me. He always did. I'm sure this time would have been no different.
I'm sad that I won't be able to spend time with him. I'm sad that I won't be able to enjoy Arizona with him. I laugh as I look at my itinerary, and think to myself, "Gee, it only took you 15 years to get here Marci. Guess you should've listened to Grandpa in the first place!" He would've found that funny too.
I love you Grandpa and miss you so much. Wish you could see me now. But then again...maybe you can!!
I, of course, had other plans. Well, not really other plans. I didn't have any plans per say. I just had grandiose dreams of going to England and studying at an American university there, studying business. What did I know?! Despite the fact that I had absolutely no idea what I was going to do, I wasn't going to let anyone else tell me what they thought I should be doing. Not very smart, but that's the way it was.
So I decided that Grandpa's idea for my future wasn't what I wanted and set out on a path of wandering around aimlessly through school for the next several years, changing my major a few times and racking up school loans. Again, not very smart.
My grandpa started spending his winters in Mesa, Arizona, and enjoying every minute of it. He had severe arthritis, and the desert heat and low humidity helped those achy bones survive the winters. Michigan wasn't the place for someone in pain (as I have grown to learn myself). He never made me feel guilty for not following his ideas for college and life in AZ, nor did he really ever talk about it much. But he did talk about me visiting, and shared stories of his winter adventures in the desert.
My brother actually made it out to Phoenix before I did, and got to enjoy being spoiled by my grandpa during his winter there. Grandpa loved spoiling us kids, and did the same with my brother. I was secretly jealous, but happy that at least one of his grandkids had the chance to spend time with him in AZ.
My grandpa passed away a year and a half ago. I was thinking about him today as I was planning out my trip and plotting a couple of apartment searches in Mesa, close to where he lived. I think he would've been really excited that I am moving to Arizona. He would have enjoyed spoiling me. He always did. I'm sure this time would have been no different.
I'm sad that I won't be able to spend time with him. I'm sad that I won't be able to enjoy Arizona with him. I laugh as I look at my itinerary, and think to myself, "Gee, it only took you 15 years to get here Marci. Guess you should've listened to Grandpa in the first place!" He would've found that funny too.
I love you Grandpa and miss you so much. Wish you could see me now. But then again...maybe you can!!
Monday, March 14, 2011
Time Is Running Out! Yikes!
I'm starting to feel the time crunch. Unfortunately, my body is feeling the crunch too. This seems to always happen. It annoys the crap out of me, but hey, what can ya do?
This is my last week of work at the grocery store and I am so happy about it! I enjoy being a cashier. It's not my life goal or anything, but it was a way to test the waters of working after so long of being unemployed. At least I know now that I am able to work. Unfortunately, standing on my feet for multiple hours is not going to work for me, so it's a matter of finding the right KIND of work. That's the next goal.
My move to Arizona is coming up shortly, and I'm trying to take this all in stride and do what I can to get ready. I've been packing for a long time now, so a lot of my stuff this week is packing those things I use more often, like pots and pan, dishes and glasses, etc. It's the stuff you use really often that gets packed last, and usually at the last possible minute.
My body is hanging on by a thread at the moment. Pain is heightened more than normal, making packing and all of that way more difficult. I know part of it has to do with the huge storm front that moved through our area today. My body has become some what of an active barometer. I can usually tell when rain is on it's way, or when a front is moving across the area, changing the pressure levels. Pretty crazy, but it's something that you get used to over time and helps you understand why your body is reacting the way it is. It doesn't make the pain better, it just helps you deal with it, knowing that it's temporary and you should soon be feeling better. One great thing about living in Houston is that the bad weather moves through rather quickly.
While I have somewhat of a plan as to what I'm doing as I make my way to Arizona, I still have yet to set an itinerary, or even schedule the moving truck. Part of me is not concerned, as I don't have a schedule, I don't have to be in town by a certain day, or move in by a certain time. The other part of me...the Type A side...is totally freaking out that I don't have a solid plan, accounting for all possible catastrophies, and planning out every possible contingency plan. I think part of it too, is that I'm older now, and flying by the seat of your pants at this age is considered irresponsible. I'm pretty sure most people think I'm crazy, and the few that don't are telling me I'm brave and an inspiration. I haven't really thought about anyone else's opinion, just knowing that if I don't make this move now I'll never do it and would regret it forever.
I have no idea if Arizona is where I will live the rest of my life. I don't plan that far ahead. I learned a long time ago that planning things too far ahead of time only leads to having those plans totally fall to pieces. It's not that there is some cosmic black cloud over making plans. I'm not supersticious about making plans. I'm just saying that I'm not a person with a 10-year plan that looks like a retirement portfolio. Call me irresponsible. I just don't care.
I have an idea of what I'd like my life to look like...actually just a few things IN my life. But mostly, I'd like to keep myself open to the possibilities that God has for me in life. I've always felt that way. I'm still learning (and probably always will be) how to find the balance between planning and freedom.
So my trip to Arizona is a mixture of both planning and freedom. My plan is to visit apartments the areas surrounding those apartments that I have narrowed down, in both Phoenix and Tucson, to see which apartment, and which city I like the best. I'll be spending close to a week in each place, and have friends that I will be visiting, as well as going camping with my dogs, out in the great outdoors surrounding both cities. To some of my family, I am becoming the equivalent of a homeless person. I guess you could say that...if you call two weeks of freedom being homeless. It's amazing how far away from "freedom" we have become.
We are so used to our pay the rent/mortgage, lock our doors at night, only go out when we have to lifestyles that we've lost the enjoyment of saying, "Hey, I'd like to spend the night out under the stars." It may be out of fear, worrying if there will be wild animals, strangers, or lack of electricity, that we live safely and without adventure.
The last six (almost seven) years of my life have been hard, physically, emotionally, mentally. From the day of my car accident I have been trying to survive, but have felt parts of me begin to slip away into the darkness. I chose to pick myself up and try to move on the best way I know how. I might not do it the right way, but I will try...and keep trying.
That's what this whole move is about...
So this week is a busy week of work, and then I can finish up my last bit of packing and head off on this new adventure. With fear in one hand and excitement in the other I embark on my adventure!!
This is my last week of work at the grocery store and I am so happy about it! I enjoy being a cashier. It's not my life goal or anything, but it was a way to test the waters of working after so long of being unemployed. At least I know now that I am able to work. Unfortunately, standing on my feet for multiple hours is not going to work for me, so it's a matter of finding the right KIND of work. That's the next goal.
My move to Arizona is coming up shortly, and I'm trying to take this all in stride and do what I can to get ready. I've been packing for a long time now, so a lot of my stuff this week is packing those things I use more often, like pots and pan, dishes and glasses, etc. It's the stuff you use really often that gets packed last, and usually at the last possible minute.
My body is hanging on by a thread at the moment. Pain is heightened more than normal, making packing and all of that way more difficult. I know part of it has to do with the huge storm front that moved through our area today. My body has become some what of an active barometer. I can usually tell when rain is on it's way, or when a front is moving across the area, changing the pressure levels. Pretty crazy, but it's something that you get used to over time and helps you understand why your body is reacting the way it is. It doesn't make the pain better, it just helps you deal with it, knowing that it's temporary and you should soon be feeling better. One great thing about living in Houston is that the bad weather moves through rather quickly.
While I have somewhat of a plan as to what I'm doing as I make my way to Arizona, I still have yet to set an itinerary, or even schedule the moving truck. Part of me is not concerned, as I don't have a schedule, I don't have to be in town by a certain day, or move in by a certain time. The other part of me...the Type A side...is totally freaking out that I don't have a solid plan, accounting for all possible catastrophies, and planning out every possible contingency plan. I think part of it too, is that I'm older now, and flying by the seat of your pants at this age is considered irresponsible. I'm pretty sure most people think I'm crazy, and the few that don't are telling me I'm brave and an inspiration. I haven't really thought about anyone else's opinion, just knowing that if I don't make this move now I'll never do it and would regret it forever.
I have no idea if Arizona is where I will live the rest of my life. I don't plan that far ahead. I learned a long time ago that planning things too far ahead of time only leads to having those plans totally fall to pieces. It's not that there is some cosmic black cloud over making plans. I'm not supersticious about making plans. I'm just saying that I'm not a person with a 10-year plan that looks like a retirement portfolio. Call me irresponsible. I just don't care.
I have an idea of what I'd like my life to look like...actually just a few things IN my life. But mostly, I'd like to keep myself open to the possibilities that God has for me in life. I've always felt that way. I'm still learning (and probably always will be) how to find the balance between planning and freedom.
So my trip to Arizona is a mixture of both planning and freedom. My plan is to visit apartments the areas surrounding those apartments that I have narrowed down, in both Phoenix and Tucson, to see which apartment, and which city I like the best. I'll be spending close to a week in each place, and have friends that I will be visiting, as well as going camping with my dogs, out in the great outdoors surrounding both cities. To some of my family, I am becoming the equivalent of a homeless person. I guess you could say that...if you call two weeks of freedom being homeless. It's amazing how far away from "freedom" we have become.
We are so used to our pay the rent/mortgage, lock our doors at night, only go out when we have to lifestyles that we've lost the enjoyment of saying, "Hey, I'd like to spend the night out under the stars." It may be out of fear, worrying if there will be wild animals, strangers, or lack of electricity, that we live safely and without adventure.
The last six (almost seven) years of my life have been hard, physically, emotionally, mentally. From the day of my car accident I have been trying to survive, but have felt parts of me begin to slip away into the darkness. I chose to pick myself up and try to move on the best way I know how. I might not do it the right way, but I will try...and keep trying.
That's what this whole move is about...
So this week is a busy week of work, and then I can finish up my last bit of packing and head off on this new adventure. With fear in one hand and excitement in the other I embark on my adventure!!
A Closet Full of Sneakers!
It's Spring here in the southwest and it is beautiful!! It's that time of year when I start pulling out all of my shorts and tank tops, pretending I didn't gain all that weight since last year, and wishing I had some cute strappy sandals to top off my outfit. You know the kind I'm talking about. They're the cute little sandals that have absolutely no support whatsoever, but have the cute little heels that make your calves look great and push up your rear end. I used to wear them all the time. I wore them as often as I could, and as many months out of the year as I could because I loved wearing them.
I also have a love for shoes. Anyone who has known me long enough knows that my closet used to be filled with shoes and sandals of all different colors and styles. I buy them cheap and wear them out, but I love shoes! There's nothing better. There's a movie called "In Her Shoes", to which I can identify with Toni Collette's character who has a shoe fetish, but her clothing is that of someone twice her age and seriously unattractive. Her reasoning is that no matter how much weight she gains, or how bad she feels about herself, no matter what is going on in her life, or how bad clothes look on, shoes always fit. I hear that!!
When my accident happened I got rid of a lot of my shoes because they just didn't fit anymore. My ankles and feet had swollen, and they just weren't comfortable anymore. But I hung onto my strappy sandals, longing for the day when walking would not be so difficult and I could handle having a little heel on my shoe. As time went on, I got rid of this pair, then that pair, until all I had left was one pair of my beloved strappy dress sandals. This is all over a few years, mind you. I was really holding out hope that I was going to be able to wear these things again!!
My closet was slowly becoming like that of a 90-year old's. It consisted of sneakers. That's all. Just sneakers. And not the cute sneakers that aren't really for doing anything athletic at all, but the ugly kind that are super supportive and good for hours of physical therapy and walking. Slowly but surely all of those cute shoes had been replaced by practical ones. And eventually, that last pair of strappy sandals went off to donation-land, where all the others had gone before.
Now my closet was full of sneakers. There were sneakers for walking, sneakers for training, trail sneakers, and so on. When I have a special outing, I no longer think, "I can't wait to get some cute shoes." I think, "I wonder if I could get by wearing sneakers with this?" Haha! Oh my, how life has changed.
One day, recently, I tried to wear a pair of shoes with an 1 1/2 heel on them. That only lasted a few hours before I was so uncomfortable I had to take them off. But I haven't given up hope! I see all of these cute styles coming out just in time for beautiful weather and think to myself, "Someday I'm going to be able to wear those again." For the time being I may just have a closet full of sneakers, but maybe someday soon there will be a re-entry of those cute sandals I loved so much!! A girl can hope...:)
I also have a love for shoes. Anyone who has known me long enough knows that my closet used to be filled with shoes and sandals of all different colors and styles. I buy them cheap and wear them out, but I love shoes! There's nothing better. There's a movie called "In Her Shoes", to which I can identify with Toni Collette's character who has a shoe fetish, but her clothing is that of someone twice her age and seriously unattractive. Her reasoning is that no matter how much weight she gains, or how bad she feels about herself, no matter what is going on in her life, or how bad clothes look on, shoes always fit. I hear that!!
When my accident happened I got rid of a lot of my shoes because they just didn't fit anymore. My ankles and feet had swollen, and they just weren't comfortable anymore. But I hung onto my strappy sandals, longing for the day when walking would not be so difficult and I could handle having a little heel on my shoe. As time went on, I got rid of this pair, then that pair, until all I had left was one pair of my beloved strappy dress sandals. This is all over a few years, mind you. I was really holding out hope that I was going to be able to wear these things again!!
My closet was slowly becoming like that of a 90-year old's. It consisted of sneakers. That's all. Just sneakers. And not the cute sneakers that aren't really for doing anything athletic at all, but the ugly kind that are super supportive and good for hours of physical therapy and walking. Slowly but surely all of those cute shoes had been replaced by practical ones. And eventually, that last pair of strappy sandals went off to donation-land, where all the others had gone before.
Now my closet was full of sneakers. There were sneakers for walking, sneakers for training, trail sneakers, and so on. When I have a special outing, I no longer think, "I can't wait to get some cute shoes." I think, "I wonder if I could get by wearing sneakers with this?" Haha! Oh my, how life has changed.
One day, recently, I tried to wear a pair of shoes with an 1 1/2 heel on them. That only lasted a few hours before I was so uncomfortable I had to take them off. But I haven't given up hope! I see all of these cute styles coming out just in time for beautiful weather and think to myself, "Someday I'm going to be able to wear those again." For the time being I may just have a closet full of sneakers, but maybe someday soon there will be a re-entry of those cute sandals I loved so much!! A girl can hope...:)
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Late Night Writings And Thoughts About Stupid ADA Designs
This is starting to become a habit, these late night writings. I think it's a way for me to purge the thoughts running through my head before I try to sleep. It's my journal...so to speak. Although my journal is filled with a lot of stuff that will never be made public!! Hah!
So tonight I had this flashback. Don't ask me why. Every now and then I have them, and this is one I've never had before. I was thinking about ADA regulations for places of business as being a total joke. If you actually have to spend time as a disabled person, whether long or short-term, you will understand exactly what I am saying!!
I was remembering this very difficult situation I found myself in on my way home to Kalamazoo, MI from Cleveland University Hospitals in Ohio. I had just had my hip replacement surgery, and I believe I was there for three days. They wanted to make sure I could get around okay before they sent me on the 4 hour drive home. When getting ready to leave they ordered me a walker instead of a wheelchair. Instead of arguing that I couldn't yet walk far enough to just have a walker on this trip, I must've been trying to be all heroic or something and figured I could do it. That was a mistake.
So my mom was with me for yet another hospital trip and yet another long van ride home. She drove the van, and I had to maneuver myself into the back of the van where we had laid out some blankets to make a pallet for me to lay down on. This turned out to be very helpful, but unfortunately it still wasn't that comfortable. Nothing at that point was comfortable.
My incision hurt, my hip hurt, and the pain just seemed to move over my entire body. I felt every bump on the road (and given the shape of Michigan roads, there were a LOT of them). It was such a painful trip I tried to take as much medicine as possible and sleep. That didn't work as well as I'd hoped either. It wasn't going well. Nothing was helping. Nothing seemed to be going right. But it was better than being stuck in the hospital for a long time again. Anything was better than that!!
We had to stop along the way to use the bathroom at a rest area. So we pull into the handicap spot and I slowly move to the edge of the van to stand up. Here's where I wished I had a wheelchair. The freakin' ramp was so long!! I couldn't do stairs yet, so that was out of the question. I didn't have a choice. I had to take the ramp or get back in the car and take my chances at another place. So I tried to brave it out. I just took it little by little. But the ramp seemed to be a mile long to me.
Each step was so painful and the more I took the more it hurt. By the time I got halfway up the ramp I was in tears, wondering if I was even going to make it to the door without collapsing. I stopped and hung myself over the railing to take the weight and pressure off my hip, and then started again. I finally made it to the door (after many people passing me stopped to ask if I was okay). I think it was kind of obvious, but I appreciated their concern.
So I make it to the door and go inside, and the bathroom is another hike all the way down this long hallway. Seriously?! I thought I was going to die right there. Okay, maybe not die, but pass out from the pain.
I should've asked for the dang wheelchair.....
So tonight I had this flashback. Don't ask me why. Every now and then I have them, and this is one I've never had before. I was thinking about ADA regulations for places of business as being a total joke. If you actually have to spend time as a disabled person, whether long or short-term, you will understand exactly what I am saying!!
I was remembering this very difficult situation I found myself in on my way home to Kalamazoo, MI from Cleveland University Hospitals in Ohio. I had just had my hip replacement surgery, and I believe I was there for three days. They wanted to make sure I could get around okay before they sent me on the 4 hour drive home. When getting ready to leave they ordered me a walker instead of a wheelchair. Instead of arguing that I couldn't yet walk far enough to just have a walker on this trip, I must've been trying to be all heroic or something and figured I could do it. That was a mistake.
So my mom was with me for yet another hospital trip and yet another long van ride home. She drove the van, and I had to maneuver myself into the back of the van where we had laid out some blankets to make a pallet for me to lay down on. This turned out to be very helpful, but unfortunately it still wasn't that comfortable. Nothing at that point was comfortable.
My incision hurt, my hip hurt, and the pain just seemed to move over my entire body. I felt every bump on the road (and given the shape of Michigan roads, there were a LOT of them). It was such a painful trip I tried to take as much medicine as possible and sleep. That didn't work as well as I'd hoped either. It wasn't going well. Nothing was helping. Nothing seemed to be going right. But it was better than being stuck in the hospital for a long time again. Anything was better than that!!
We had to stop along the way to use the bathroom at a rest area. So we pull into the handicap spot and I slowly move to the edge of the van to stand up. Here's where I wished I had a wheelchair. The freakin' ramp was so long!! I couldn't do stairs yet, so that was out of the question. I didn't have a choice. I had to take the ramp or get back in the car and take my chances at another place. So I tried to brave it out. I just took it little by little. But the ramp seemed to be a mile long to me.
Each step was so painful and the more I took the more it hurt. By the time I got halfway up the ramp I was in tears, wondering if I was even going to make it to the door without collapsing. I stopped and hung myself over the railing to take the weight and pressure off my hip, and then started again. I finally made it to the door (after many people passing me stopped to ask if I was okay). I think it was kind of obvious, but I appreciated their concern.
So I make it to the door and go inside, and the bathroom is another hike all the way down this long hallway. Seriously?! I thought I was going to die right there. Okay, maybe not die, but pass out from the pain.
I should've asked for the dang wheelchair.....
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Friends Make Life So Much Better
Despite the fact that I have no friends my own age here in Houston, I am blessed to have some neighbors that have become very close friends. They have helped me out in a pinch, given me advice about anything and everything, constantly look out for me, and have invited me into their lives. I'm so blessed.
I have lived here, there and everywhere and have had to learn how to make friends in new places where I didn't know but a few people. It's hard. Sometimes, given the city you're in, it can be even harder. I only made one friend in Baltimore, MD, and that wasn't even someone I would honestly consider a friend. She was more like a friendly acquaintance. I lived in Baltimore for a year and that was long enough for me. Other than blue crabs I never really found anything to like about living there.
When I was 21 I moved just outside of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. I had been talked into going to a college there by a few of my friends who were attending. So, with my Associates Degree in hand I set off to finish my education in another land unknown. I guess I just had this idea in my head that you could move anywhere and just settle in and make friends by osmosis or something. Reality was a bit different.
I believe every city has a personality, and Philadelphia's was one that I had never really expected. It was seemingly impenetrable. I spent the first year diving into school and stumbling from church to church looking for people to be friends with. I was friendly...I thought. Why wasn't I making any friends? After becoming pretty depressed about it I finally had a breakthrough. I decided to write down everything I had been doing at church before I moved out there and what I had been doing since. The difference between the lists showed me exactly why I was so depressed. They looked nothing alike.
I could have spent the better part of my life waiting for someone to say hi to me after I slipped into the back pew every Sunday at church. I just wasn't willing to wait that long anymore. So, I moved myself up closer to the front of the church, and made sure I showed up early enough to shake hands during the greeting part of the service.
A call went out for new choir members. I was in. I had to do something, and I could sing. I'd been doing it all my life, so why not? Somehow I got introduced to the pastor's wife, who was the choir director. That same conversation turned into meeting about 5 new people, who all started asking me questions about who I was and asking me if I wanted to do anything else. Kids. So within about a half an hour I was on my way to the process for being involved in the children's ministry. Did this really just happen? It was like someone turned the switch to "on" saying it was a green light to talk to this "new" girl. I went from being a back-pew nobody to being involved in everything I loved...all in one day.
Sometimes I really have to force myself out of my comfort zone to talk to someone new. It's not always the most comfortable thing. But like I said before, you can wait your whole life waiting for other people to take the initiative, or you could suck it up and do it yourself and see what happens. You might find yourself surprised at the results. I was.
Despite it's hard shell, Philadelphia turned out to be my second home. The friends I made there became like family, and the relationships some of the most fulfilling I still have in my life. In my 6 years living there, I not only made friends, I made honorary family. What more could a person ask for? My life would've been totally different now had these people not been a part of my life.
Now with this next step in life taking me to yet another new city, I'm faced with the reality that I will yet again need to put myself out there and start the process of making more new friends. Making friends is not always easy. Sometimes you strike out. Some people are just a little too crazy! Some people seem to suck the very life from your soul. But sometimes you strike gold, and meet amazing people! They make you a better person, and in turn, you have people to pour your love and energy into. Friends jure make life more enjoyable (and endurable).
Here's to my friends, and to the prospect of adding more to the brood!
I have lived here, there and everywhere and have had to learn how to make friends in new places where I didn't know but a few people. It's hard. Sometimes, given the city you're in, it can be even harder. I only made one friend in Baltimore, MD, and that wasn't even someone I would honestly consider a friend. She was more like a friendly acquaintance. I lived in Baltimore for a year and that was long enough for me. Other than blue crabs I never really found anything to like about living there.
When I was 21 I moved just outside of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. I had been talked into going to a college there by a few of my friends who were attending. So, with my Associates Degree in hand I set off to finish my education in another land unknown. I guess I just had this idea in my head that you could move anywhere and just settle in and make friends by osmosis or something. Reality was a bit different.
I believe every city has a personality, and Philadelphia's was one that I had never really expected. It was seemingly impenetrable. I spent the first year diving into school and stumbling from church to church looking for people to be friends with. I was friendly...I thought. Why wasn't I making any friends? After becoming pretty depressed about it I finally had a breakthrough. I decided to write down everything I had been doing at church before I moved out there and what I had been doing since. The difference between the lists showed me exactly why I was so depressed. They looked nothing alike.
I could have spent the better part of my life waiting for someone to say hi to me after I slipped into the back pew every Sunday at church. I just wasn't willing to wait that long anymore. So, I moved myself up closer to the front of the church, and made sure I showed up early enough to shake hands during the greeting part of the service.
A call went out for new choir members. I was in. I had to do something, and I could sing. I'd been doing it all my life, so why not? Somehow I got introduced to the pastor's wife, who was the choir director. That same conversation turned into meeting about 5 new people, who all started asking me questions about who I was and asking me if I wanted to do anything else. Kids. So within about a half an hour I was on my way to the process for being involved in the children's ministry. Did this really just happen? It was like someone turned the switch to "on" saying it was a green light to talk to this "new" girl. I went from being a back-pew nobody to being involved in everything I loved...all in one day.
Sometimes I really have to force myself out of my comfort zone to talk to someone new. It's not always the most comfortable thing. But like I said before, you can wait your whole life waiting for other people to take the initiative, or you could suck it up and do it yourself and see what happens. You might find yourself surprised at the results. I was.
Despite it's hard shell, Philadelphia turned out to be my second home. The friends I made there became like family, and the relationships some of the most fulfilling I still have in my life. In my 6 years living there, I not only made friends, I made honorary family. What more could a person ask for? My life would've been totally different now had these people not been a part of my life.
Now with this next step in life taking me to yet another new city, I'm faced with the reality that I will yet again need to put myself out there and start the process of making more new friends. Making friends is not always easy. Sometimes you strike out. Some people are just a little too crazy! Some people seem to suck the very life from your soul. But sometimes you strike gold, and meet amazing people! They make you a better person, and in turn, you have people to pour your love and energy into. Friends jure make life more enjoyable (and endurable).
Here's to my friends, and to the prospect of adding more to the brood!
A Blogging Expedition
It's time. What can I say? It seems like everyone is blogging now. I might be just another on a list of thousands, but I've got words to write, and what better way to do it than to send it out into the void for the world to read...or not.
I've started writing a book, and some of the things on this blog will probably end up making their way into there, in one way or another. The book is for the purpose of uplifting those who who have been through tragedies in life. Since I have been through my own, I feel like maybe, just maybe, I could help someone out by letting them know they're not alone in the struggles that come with something so life-altering.
For the moment, my life is changing...in big ways. I'm getting ready to make a voyage from Texas to Arizona to "start over". What's up with the phrase anyways?! I feel like I hear it all the time, and it has now become so cliche I wasn't even sure if I wanted to say it just now! But it's kind of what I'm doing, so I guess the cliche is a cliche for a reason.
Maybe a better way to state it is that I'm waking up. Little things have been happening lately that remind me of how far away from myself I've gotten. Like certain things inside me have been dead for a long time...or maybe I've buried them and am now letting them resurface. I don't know. But I can tell that things I have found important in my life are awakening my love, joy and peace in myself and God.
Two great things happened today. Both centered around kids.
I was working at the flower shop today and I came out into the front room to get another task from one of the designers who was dealing with a customer and her 4-year old son. As I came around the corner he was the only one I could see, so I waved and said hi. This kid had no fear of strangers and was full of excitement. I started talking to him and his mom. His mom was taking care of an order, so I asked the boy to show me his favorite flower in the shop. He went around the table, inspecting all the flowers he saw, and then pointed out the bright pink roses. Odd, I thought. A boy picking out these bright pink roses, but then he informed me that his favorite color was pink! Even odder, I thought. But for the next 10 minutes he led me around the shop pointing out every single pink flower and saying he liked them all. Not orange, not purple, not any other color. Just pink.
His mom asked him if he'd like to buy one to take home and put in a vase. He got so excited! I helped them pick out a really nice one and then went back to the designer to check the price. It was free for them, so I went back out and broke the happy news. The boy jumped around, holding his new beautiful rose, that he promised to be gentle with. The mom, of course, was so thankful for the free rose. Even though this boy struck me as odd for loving pink so much (maybe he's color blind), the excitement he had over his treasured new rose was contagious.
One of the designers at the shop brought in his 4-year old daughter at the end of the day. When she came in I greeted her the way I do all children, but got no response. I was told she was not social, and that even the other guys that work in the shop, and had known her since birth, never got so much as a word when she came in, so I shouldn't take it personally. But I didn't give up.
She seemed almost scared of me, but kids have never frightened me. I've been around them and have worked with them for so long I knew I could get her talking. Sure enough, after a few minutes, her dad needed to use the restroom so she stood outside the door patiently waiting for his exit. There she stood, silent, big-eyed and trying not to look at me as I moved around my station. I gave her a minute. Sometimes we all need one, no matter how old we are. We need a minute to take in our surroundings and size up the place. I had a feeling that's exactly what she was doing.
She finally got so tired of waiting for her dad she exclaimed, "My dad is taking forever!" That was my opening. So I took my cue and commented that sometimes that happens. I gave her another minute. I had obviously caught her off guard by my response. But I caught her eye again, and asked her how old she was. She shyly responded, "Four". I told her she was getting so big, and then started up another topic as to her favorite color, which she told me was red. We started naming things that were red. I found out she went to some kind of kindergarten class, where they didn't do any crafts. I told her that was a bummer. I really like crafts. She does too.
The conversation continued. Nothing to exciting. But I had her talking, which apparently in her four years of life, no other strangers were able to do. It all ended as quickly as it began as soon as dad returned from the restroom. And I even tried to get a goodbye or a handshake when I went to leave, but I got nothing. She was closed up like a clam, and there was no way I was going to get anything more out of this girl...at least this time. :)
Despite our rocky start and cold ending, I realized how much I missed the challenge of getting into a child's head and getting to know them on their level. Sometimes it can be a challenge, and sometimes all it takes it a smile. I guess we're both sizing each other up on each encounter.
Both of these children were four years old, and it reminded me of all my time spent teaching kindergarteners in Sunday school. I loved it. I love that age. They change so much during that first year of school. I haven't had any interaction with kids for the last several years, especially since my accident, when my life as a Sunday school teacher was cut short. Now I'm realizing how much I've missed it and can't wait to get back into teaching, church, kids ministries, and so many other things that I loved so much and have somehow let myself get so far away from.
So in "starting over" and letting these desires and loves come back to the surface is exciting me to the possibilities of what's to come.
Stay tuned..............:)
I've started writing a book, and some of the things on this blog will probably end up making their way into there, in one way or another. The book is for the purpose of uplifting those who who have been through tragedies in life. Since I have been through my own, I feel like maybe, just maybe, I could help someone out by letting them know they're not alone in the struggles that come with something so life-altering.
For the moment, my life is changing...in big ways. I'm getting ready to make a voyage from Texas to Arizona to "start over". What's up with the phrase anyways?! I feel like I hear it all the time, and it has now become so cliche I wasn't even sure if I wanted to say it just now! But it's kind of what I'm doing, so I guess the cliche is a cliche for a reason.
Maybe a better way to state it is that I'm waking up. Little things have been happening lately that remind me of how far away from myself I've gotten. Like certain things inside me have been dead for a long time...or maybe I've buried them and am now letting them resurface. I don't know. But I can tell that things I have found important in my life are awakening my love, joy and peace in myself and God.
Two great things happened today. Both centered around kids.
I was working at the flower shop today and I came out into the front room to get another task from one of the designers who was dealing with a customer and her 4-year old son. As I came around the corner he was the only one I could see, so I waved and said hi. This kid had no fear of strangers and was full of excitement. I started talking to him and his mom. His mom was taking care of an order, so I asked the boy to show me his favorite flower in the shop. He went around the table, inspecting all the flowers he saw, and then pointed out the bright pink roses. Odd, I thought. A boy picking out these bright pink roses, but then he informed me that his favorite color was pink! Even odder, I thought. But for the next 10 minutes he led me around the shop pointing out every single pink flower and saying he liked them all. Not orange, not purple, not any other color. Just pink.
His mom asked him if he'd like to buy one to take home and put in a vase. He got so excited! I helped them pick out a really nice one and then went back to the designer to check the price. It was free for them, so I went back out and broke the happy news. The boy jumped around, holding his new beautiful rose, that he promised to be gentle with. The mom, of course, was so thankful for the free rose. Even though this boy struck me as odd for loving pink so much (maybe he's color blind), the excitement he had over his treasured new rose was contagious.
One of the designers at the shop brought in his 4-year old daughter at the end of the day. When she came in I greeted her the way I do all children, but got no response. I was told she was not social, and that even the other guys that work in the shop, and had known her since birth, never got so much as a word when she came in, so I shouldn't take it personally. But I didn't give up.
She seemed almost scared of me, but kids have never frightened me. I've been around them and have worked with them for so long I knew I could get her talking. Sure enough, after a few minutes, her dad needed to use the restroom so she stood outside the door patiently waiting for his exit. There she stood, silent, big-eyed and trying not to look at me as I moved around my station. I gave her a minute. Sometimes we all need one, no matter how old we are. We need a minute to take in our surroundings and size up the place. I had a feeling that's exactly what she was doing.
She finally got so tired of waiting for her dad she exclaimed, "My dad is taking forever!" That was my opening. So I took my cue and commented that sometimes that happens. I gave her another minute. I had obviously caught her off guard by my response. But I caught her eye again, and asked her how old she was. She shyly responded, "Four". I told her she was getting so big, and then started up another topic as to her favorite color, which she told me was red. We started naming things that were red. I found out she went to some kind of kindergarten class, where they didn't do any crafts. I told her that was a bummer. I really like crafts. She does too.
The conversation continued. Nothing to exciting. But I had her talking, which apparently in her four years of life, no other strangers were able to do. It all ended as quickly as it began as soon as dad returned from the restroom. And I even tried to get a goodbye or a handshake when I went to leave, but I got nothing. She was closed up like a clam, and there was no way I was going to get anything more out of this girl...at least this time. :)
Despite our rocky start and cold ending, I realized how much I missed the challenge of getting into a child's head and getting to know them on their level. Sometimes it can be a challenge, and sometimes all it takes it a smile. I guess we're both sizing each other up on each encounter.
Both of these children were four years old, and it reminded me of all my time spent teaching kindergarteners in Sunday school. I loved it. I love that age. They change so much during that first year of school. I haven't had any interaction with kids for the last several years, especially since my accident, when my life as a Sunday school teacher was cut short. Now I'm realizing how much I've missed it and can't wait to get back into teaching, church, kids ministries, and so many other things that I loved so much and have somehow let myself get so far away from.
So in "starting over" and letting these desires and loves come back to the surface is exciting me to the possibilities of what's to come.
Stay tuned..............:)
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About Me
- Marci DeHaan
- It is my joy to write. All of my blogs have a special meaning to me, and allow me an outlet to express every side of myself. I like to write like I think, a scatterbrained mess of ideas and emotions that somehow spill out into totally relatable stories for others to share in. That is my life. Please enjoy my blogs and writings. They range anywhere from cynical posts about singleness, to nurturing, important posts to young women, to every kind of life moment and stories about being human. My favorite catch phrase is "still practicing", which is on almost all of my posts. Why? Because I am...still practicing at writing, at being a better, more well-rounded person, and at life in general. I hope to always be practicing. Happy reading! :)