22 February 2009
If I haven't mentioned it yet, I love PostSecret, and one of the highlights of my Sunday is reading the latest postcards. I wish he updated the site more than once a week.
I'm not entirely sure what I would tell my "8 year old" self. I'm pretty sure my "8 year old self" wouldn't listen anyway. I'm absolutely positive about what I would tell my 16 year old self... though I'm not sure I would have listened then either.
What would you tell your 8 year old self? Do you think it would have made a difference?
19 February 2009
This photo was sent to me as "the end of the rainbow."
But, how do you know that isn't the beginning?
One of the comments I read about this photo said, "there is no pot of gold, so it must be the beginning."
Others were much more negative.
Either way... it is amazing. Something I never thought I would see... even in a photograph... even on the interwebz.
Here's the link to the story about the picture.
18 February 2009
Oh interwebz, how I do miss you.
It doesn't matter that so few people are reading, I miss writing. There are so many things I want to say, so many moments during the day when I think, "I really should write that down and blog about it later." So many pointless meetings when I sit with a notebook, stare at the blank page, and can practically feel my fingers on the keys, fluidly blogging... writing so much about so little... yet, somehow purging myself of thoughts, feelings, and emotions that belong on paper, not in my head.
Think back many years ago... remember a video game called "Breakout!"... one of the 'bonuses' in that game was breaking the ball into three different balls... remember? If you were really good, you could break them again. Suddenly the screen was awash with balls... bouncing around, you spinning the paddle back and forth keeping as many as possible in the air. Because, for every single ball you could send back into the ether, you could break one more block... you could get just that much more ahead in the game. But really, at the end of all that madness, if you could just focus on one ball, and keep that one in the game, you could continue playing... the others, well, they were just bonus.
So, for a few seconds, you bust your ass juggling all those balls... until they start dropping, and you realize, all you really need is one... you choose which you are going to follow, and that becomes the ONE. The Important One. The others are great if you can keep them up, but in the end, that One is what matters. That one is what keeps your game going.
I've managed to keep more than one of those balls in the air, and I'm attempting to add a few more. Work seems to be at least two balls just on its own. Having the title of "mommy" carries a couple of its own balls (yes, funny, my kid is a boy...). Life outside of "mommy-in-chief" also requires a bit of juggling (although, happily, fits neatly around everything else... love my friends, and my CSB for their flexibility, and seemingly timeless appreciation).
My game is still going.
I have (at least) one ball still in the air. And, the game continues to progress.
With my job, I am learning how to keep several balls in the air, and yet walk away at the end of the day... knowing those balls will be there waiting for me after my second cup of coffee in the morning. With my personal life, it seems to be a little easier to juggle a couple of things at once (although I slip on occasion), maybe because I'm getting used to having those balls there (again, how many jokes can be made about the boys in my life?), and I'm getting better about keeping them moving in the right direction.
Bottom line? I'm happy. And, although I'm concerned about the balancing act, I am pretty proud of myself for keeping as many balls moving as fluidly as I have. I really never thought I could do it.
(ok, NOW make your testicle jokes... you sick, sick people.)