KirstenL4W

It took me quite awhile to come up with an entry for K. Way back in the beginning of my blog, I wrote a post entitled K is for Kirsten in which I express my joy at being able to assert my independence and freedom from roommates. In the encyclopedia series, I wanted something with a more specific topic other than myself, especially since my blog’s title is All About Me - And Then Some. Makes sense, yes? So I pulled out my trusty student dictionary, the one I received as an 8th grade graduation gift, and read through the entries in the short K section, looking for inspiration. And inspiration I found.

In 1979, I turned 5 years old, and it was time for me to go to school. We lived in a tiny house in Salem, NH, which didn’t have public kindergarten, so my Dad registered me at a school in the next town, over the state line in Methuen, MA. The bonus was that my Gram was the secretary of the school, so I got to see her every day as well.

I remember the day I went to check the place out. I think my Dad talked to Mrs. Lang, the teacher, while I played with a Mr. Potato Head. I took note of the classroom - kid-height tables and chairs, two bathrooms, a chalkboard in the carpeted area, another play area with storage for our coats and lunchboxes, the door to the hall, and the door leading outside. Mrs. Lang’s desk was by the windows.

In September, it was time for school. I don’t remember what I wore, other than it was probably a dress since I usually wore a dress for the first day of school. Dad hoisted me into his old pickup truck for the drive to school, since the bus wouldn’t pick me up in a different state. We got on the highway, off the highway, and headed down the road. He stopped at Walter’s Variety, a small convenience store near Gram’s house and on the way to school, so I could buy a snack. I chose Twinkies - I’m not sure why, and I don’t think I’ve eaten them since. I don’t ever recall being a huge Twinkies fan.

I honestly don’t remember much in particular about that first day of school, but I remember bits and pieces of the school day from throughout the year. We had projects to do. I liked that sort of schoolroom crafting that we did. We made the obligatory toilet paper ghosts, handprint turkeys, etc. We also practiced reading and writing our letters, learning the alphabet, show and tell, and some songs. I don’t remember any of this learning being particularly challenging work, but I enjoyed it because it was new. I liked reading, and had been sounding out words on my own since I was three (or so I’m told - I don’t remember that far back).

Back then, kindergarten was a half day. For the first half of the school year, I had morning kindergarten, from 8:45 to 11:45. After school I took the bus to my aunt’s house. Things were safer in those days, and the bus dropped me off at the corner. It was probably about 150 yards to my aunt’s house, but I struggled with it. For some reason I had this thing about walking alone without any sort of cover. I would be ok walking along the bushes, then stop at the end of the hedge, gather up some courage, and run to the tree. Then to a mailbox, and so on. I still get made fun of for that, but hey, I provided amusement to all those who watched the 5-year-old me walk to my aunt’s from the bus stop. When I got to my aunt’s house, she’d feed me lunch and I got to play with my cousin. He was just a baby then, and it was fun being over there and playing with him, especially once he started walking. He followed me everywhere, and I thought it was fun to help my aunt feed him.

After Christmas, the morning and afternoon classes would switch, so I got switched to afternoon kindergarten. Both my younger sister and I got dropped off at a babysitter’s house. I remember her name was Margaret, and she was old but not a nice grandmotherly old. She smoked More cigarettes and made us powdered milk. I still shudder thinking about that shit. After she fed us lunch, she’d drive me to school, and I was thrilled to not have to spend the entire day with her. I didn’t really have my sympathy for my sister having to be there, though. After school I’d still go to my aunt’s house, but only every other week. Since my Gram worked at the school, I split my time with my aunt and my Gram. On those weeks, I’d stay after school with my Gram in the office, helping her by telling her which bus just pulled up so that she could announce it on the PA. Then we’d go to her house and I’d help her get dinner ready. On Friday nights, instead of Dad picking me up, he’d drop my sister off and we’d spend the night, which was pretty cool.

While I don’t specifically remember my first day of kindergarten, I remember the last day. For some reason, slave labor was still ok back then, because the entire class took our little plastic chairs outside and we scrubbed them. Don’t ask me why, but this was a time honored tradition. Every year it happened, and it was only the kindergarten group. Thinking back now, I don’t know if the chairs got scrubbed twice or not, because there weren’t enough chairs for both the morning and afternoon sessions, but I know I remember scrubbing those things.

Kindergarten was a pretty carefree time for me. Everything came easy to me, and I loved being exposed to new ideas. I left kindergarten with new friends, a glowing report card, a assignment to Mrs. Scannell’s class in the fall, and no idea that I’d have to start learning math in the first grade.

The Encyclopedia of Me series is back! I had to take some time off because I could not think of anything for the letter J. I finally took out my dictionary and going through the entire J section to find words that could be contenders. I ended up picking Jobs because so many of us are defined by what our jobs are, so I’ll tell you about some of the jobs I’ve had and how they shaped me.

Waitress at Friendly’s
For those who don’t know, Friendly’s is a chain of ice cream shops in the New England area. Besides having awesome ice cream sundaes, they serve typical fast casual fare like burgers and other sandwiches and just about anything that can be fried or cooked on a griddle. I got this job when I was 15, during the summer between my freshman and sophomore years of high school. It kept me busy, earned me some money (most of which I spent on New Kids on the Block paraphernalia) and taught me that summers aren’t just for play. Oh, and taught me that Fribbles made with iced milk are way better than the new recipe, which uses soft serve fro-yo, which I bitched about here.

Supermarket Checker at Shaw’s
After some babysitting jobs, which didn’t work out for me because I hate babysitting, I decided to get a job at the local food-mart. I was 17 and halfway through my senior year of high school. I actually stayed with Shaw’s for a long time. Not continuously, mind you, but it’s one job that was always there for me when I needed a job, and one that worked out best for me. Other retail jobs never really seemed to cut it, except 1, which I’ll mention further on down this list.

Anyway, while I was with Shaw’s, I worked my way up from bagger to cashier, then on to Checkout Assistant (aka “Bitch With The Keys”). After doing that for a few years, I finally got my chance to get into the Service Desk, which is where you learn more about the inner workings of the store than any other single department. I think being at the service desk helped improve my performance at the checkout as well, because I knew not only how to do what I needed to for the customer, I also knew how not to fuck things up for the store accounting. And speaking of accounting, I worked my way up to store bookkeeper while I was there. It’s a far cry from a more complete bookkeeping position that you’d find in an office setting, because all I really had to do was count the tills and enter the info into the computer, and a few other reporting things, but all that experience at Shaw’s helped get me where I am today.

Wallpaper store clerk
I actually worked in two different wallpaper stores at different times. Both jobs were short-lived, but considering my affinity for interior design. Back in the 90s, everyone was wallpapering their homes. The job was more customer service than design oriented, since my job duties mostly entailed trying to narrow down what the customer was looking for and pulling some sample books for them to help them make a selection and keep from being overwhelmed by the hundreds of books we had. But I did learn how to properly wallpaper, prep the wall to make it all go easier when you decide to take the stuff down, and I learned that there is wallpaper for just about any look you could hope for (or hoped you’d never have to see).

Temping
When I was trying to get out of Shaw’s and into office work, I went to a temp agency. My first assignment was at their office, catching them up on data entry. It was supposed to be for a month, but I worked too fast so it ended sooner. That agency didn’t have any more work for me since they do mostly manufacturing, but a few weeks later I ended up finding a front desk job with another temp agency. It helped me learn a lot about the staffing industry and the corporate world in general, including how not to get scammed by the job boards.

Receptionist at a graphic design firm
After I got a bit burned out working in the temp agency’s office, I switched it up a bit and went out on temp assignments for the same agency. I guess I really needed to see what a big world it was out there and wasn’t happy staying put in the same place every day - not yet, anyway. After a few assignments, I ended up at the design firm. They knew that the position would be opening up, and I liked it there so I asked the agency if I could submit my resume, which I did. Of course I was hired, since they already knew I had what it took to do the job. Being at that job taught me the finer points of graphic design, and I gained a huge appreciation for the field and creativity in general. I enjoyed my time there so much, that I still think about pursuing graphic design as a career, or at least taking some classes to learn a few things about it. But the job had to go - I got laid off just two weeks after 9/11.

Administrative Assistant for an executive search firm
This was another job I learned a lot about the corporate world from. It was a small office, and my co-workers were like a family. I had a great 2 1/2 years there. It’s where I was working when I started my blog, and I remember that time in my life as being a huge personal growth period. I still see my old boss every now and then (when we both happen to show up at church at the same time). In the end, I left because, being a small office, I had gone as far a I could and I needed to spread my wings even further.

Accounts Payable clerk for big company
I hesitate to list my current employer here, because they are a big company and I don’t want to find out the hard way that they don’t like the fact that I have a blog. It’s also why I don’t talk about work too much, not like I did when I was at the above-mentioned job. But this is a job that can take me far, if I want it to. The clerical and small amount of accounting-related jobs I’ve had in the past are a big part of what got me this job. My title is actually Administrative Assistant, because at a big company they have to fit you into a box, and that’s the one that fits me best. I’m not yet a full-fledged payables clerk, though I do know how to process some invoices. I’ve learned tons while I’m here, and there are always opportunities to learn more. And even though it’s a big company and there are hundreds of people there I don’t know, the A/P group is small and very close knit, so I have the best of both worlds. I’ve been there 2 years in December (plus 6 months on a contract basis), and have no plans on leaving. I want to learn everything I can there before I head out to my next employment adventure.

Those are a few of the jobs I’ve had, with many short-lived jobs in between that weren’t really for me. And even though some of the jobs I’ve held don’t seem to be related, the cumulative experience is what got me where I am today. What sort of jobs have you held that helped make you who you are today?

Once upon a time, I wanted to be an interior designer. This was way before the organizing thing. I’d say I was in my teens when I started showing an interest. Once I outgrew the teen celebrity magazines (BOP, anyone?), I moved on to home magazines. I couldn’t do the normal teen girl thing and go for fashion mags. Nope, I was happier looking at houses instead of clothes and makeup.

This is apparent in my choice of stores when I go shopping, or at least window shopping. It’s no struggle to get me into a Bed Bath N Beyond, but clothes shopping is another beast entirely. Not a fan of clothes shopping, definitely a fan of ogling pretty house things.

When I started college, I naturally chose a program in interior design. I pored through my textbook, eagerly went to class, and as many college freshman do, drank myself into oblivion. Needless to say, I didn’t do too well that semester, and a combination of a holier than thou attitude and avoidance of failure led me to change my major a few times before ending up with a degree in liberal studies and a lovely career in retail - not even in a home store! I was on my way to . . . what exactly I wasn’t sure.

Fast forward about a decade. I had just arrived in Las Vegas and was planning my new life, trying to figure out how to make friends and influence people in my new home. I did get myself a job, part time, and decided to take a class or two in order to meet people. While I was looking over the course catalog at the community college here, I decided to take up Interior Design studies again. I enjoyed the classes I took, and suffered through a few core classes that I didn’t want to take but had to if I wanted a degree (not all of my credits transferred from my old school). I liked studying design again. But this time, real life got in the way. By now I had a full time job, and a lot of the classes I was going to need weren’t always offered at times convenient for me, and my job wasn’t flexible enough to take a few hours out of the day two or three times a week so that I could attend class. Sigh. Enjoyable course of study thwarted again, this time due to forces beyond my control.

I haven’t picked up studying design again. I haven’t picked up studying anything again, despite my declaration that I wanted to go back to school to study accounting. There’s a lot of reasons for that, but mostly I don’t feel ready and eager to go back to school at this point. But don’t get me wrong. Just because I’m not interested in studying interior design doesn’t mean that I’m just not interested in it. Far from it. I spend far more than I should on magazines (which is still far less than I used to spend on them). I wander around home stores looking at all the eye candy they have. I watch as much HGTV as I can get away with. And of course, thanks to modern technology, I eagerly some great home blogs. Here are some of my favorites:

Young House Love - John and Sherry showcase their awesome house and give lots of fabulous and cost effective tips along they way. They also feature the homes of their fans and offer spot-on design advice.

Chez Larsson - Because it’s in Sweden. And because it’s a great look into the light and bright Swedish look without feeling like you’re in IKEA.

Hooked on Houses - This is pure house porn. Houses from real estate listings, movie and TV houses, tiny houses, retro houses, and all sorts of other house stuff will keep you on this site for hours.

Decor8 - This blog features lots of ideas you always knew you wanted but didn’t think existed. Another site to get lost in for hours.

Real Simple: Simply Stated - All the great tips and ideas for your home and beyond that you love from Real Simple Magazine, in blog form.

Making it Lovely - Lovely home pics from the gal behind the awesome stationery at Pink Loves Brown. What I wouldn’t do for a built in dining room hutch like hers!

Design Happens - If you watch HGTV and read blogs, then you absolutely must read this blog. ‘Nuff said.

Go ahead and check those blogs out, but before you do, tell me about your favorite design and decor blogs. I’d love to find new ideas to drool over!

I’ve established previously that things aren’t too great around the KirstenL4W home right now.  Unemployment and other things have been major stressors here and I’ve been having a hard time dealing with it all. A lot of that has to do with the fact that I don’t let go of things too easily, but also because I love Mister so much and I want nothing more than for him to be happy - ridiculously happy. I’ve been holding on to a lot of that worry, letting it drive me to my breaking point. I’d have halfway good days, but mostly I’d be one quick thought away from a deluge of tears.

On Tuesday, like most nights, I came home and started going through my checklist of internet activity. I was surprised to see comments on my last post, because it was a few days old already. There waiting for me was a comment from Cousin Betty, my second cousin on my mother’s side. I was surprised because the bulk of communication with my mom’s extended family is done through Christmas cards, so I didn’t realize anyone was reading my blog, even though I include the web address so people can keep up with me throughout the year.

Anyway, back to the comment. As with so many things these days, it brought me to tears. But these weren’t the stress tears that have been flowing so freely lately. These were different. I realize now, looking back on it, that they were tears of relief. Finally, in the form of words on my monitor, was a way for me to let go of the stress. I don’t know why I haven’t thought of it before. My spiritual needs tend to run hot or cold, and when I blogged about my feelings about faith, they were running cold but starting to warm up. At the time I wrote that, I was still thinking a lot and wondering if a slightly different path might better suit my spiritual needs.

Like a favorite old sweater. That’s how I described my home church, the one I was basically brought up in. As I read Betty’s comment, as well as an email she had sent me, I realized I needed that sweater and the comfort it could provide. And I needed it in the form I was most familiar with - church. It also happened that day that I got a newsletter email from one of my Pastors here in Vegas, and I remembered something about them starting Wednesday evening services. I looked up the current worship schedule on their website, and discussed it with Mister. The very next day, I walked into that familiar space and let go of my stress. I realized that the stress was not mine to hold on to like that, and when I left the church after service, I left the stress behind. The two days since then have been so much calmer for me. I haven’t felt this calm in a long time.

In addition to a newfound sense of calm, I also have hope. Through this entire ordeal, I kept saying to myself that this is a good thing that’s happening, but I didn’t believe my own words. Now I do. I have hope that we’ll come out of this even better than before it all started. I have hope that this will lead to even better adventures for us. Ever the eternal optimist, I lost that along the way but now I truly hope - and believe - that everything will be ok.

I know that not all my readers are religious, and I hope that this post didn’t come across as preachy. I simply wanted to tell you about how I felt and how I’m getting through this. For everyone else who is going through a tough time, you need to do what works for you - but don’t give up hope.

I’ve been wondering what I should write for the “G” edition of the Encyclopedia of Me, when suddenly the holidays rolled around, I gave and received gifts, and this post was born.

I love giving gifts, so when it came time to shop for Mister, I was delighted.  Here’s what he got from me:

• Netflix gift subscription because we never get to the movies to see what we want and are bored with our current DVD collection
• The Politically Incorrect Guide to American History (which he loves!)
• Nikon D80 Digital Field Guide - I liked this book because it seems easy to understand and shows the results of certain techniques.
• a UV filter for the camera - we sure need that here in the desert!
• Death at a Funeral
• a bunch of other stuff including new socks and chocolate

I got a bunch of stuff from my Amazon wishlist, which now needs to be replenished

• The Tales of Beedle the Bard - I put the paperback version on my list, so as not to be ostentatious, but Mister knew better and got me this instead. It will look awesome on the bookshelf!
• Understand Your Dreams 3 Ed - I have the 1st edition of this book, which I got to write a paper in college. It is the absolute best dream analysis book I have ever seen, and this updated version contains 1000 more images than the original book.
• The Emigrants - This is the 1st in a series of 4 books telling the story of a family from Sweden who emigrate to America. I do have the first book, which was a gift from a friend in Sweden. She thought it would be similar to my great-grandparent’s stories, since they also came from Sweden. When I finished reading it, I wanted the other 3, but the covers didn’t match the one I had, since it was purchased in Sweden and the others from Amazon. Now I have a nice matching set for my bookshelf, and of course the one from my friend still holds a special place on my bookshelf.
• Silent Nightclub
• Mr. Bean - The Whole Bean (Complete Set)
• Pleasures Perfume by Estee Lauder. I’ve been in need of new perfume for quite some time, so I have been strictly rationing what little I have left. Mister got this because he likes when I “smell like a girl.”
• Methuen (MA) (Images of America). This is the town I grew up in, and it has a really cool history. Now with this book I can have a little piece of home with me.
• An overflowing stocking filled with my favorite chocolates and a bunch of Burt’s Bees goodies.

I do have to say, though, that with all those goodies, the best gift of all was being able to spend Christmas with my super amazing husband.  Christmas (and every day) is a thousand times better now that he’s in my life.

Election season is upon is, and a huge theme for the candidates is religion.  I always have a hard time bringing religion into a governmental elections, and to government in general.  I’m a firm believer in the separation of church and state, not because of any religious beliefs I may or may not have, but because that’s the way our constitution is written.  The First Amendment says, “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof…”  Now, if I had been raised in a country that had different laws concerning this, I might have a different view on the matter.  Since this is the USA and that’s the way things are, I have a problem with religion as a political platform.

But this post is not about my political views regarding religion.  As this is a personal blog, I want to talk more about my faith, spiritual needs, and what it all means to me.  Readers who have been around for awhile may remember that I was a regular attendee at a local church, and blogged about the first day worshipping in the brand new building.  I no longer attend church regularly (at all, really), and I’ve spent some time thinking about what I need, what I believe, and how I want to express that.

I’ve always been uncomfortable with religion being in my face.  I hate prostyletizing, because to me it’s worse than a pushy salesperson trying to sell you something.  Prostyletizing is pushy believers trying to sell you an entire belief system, and I’ve noticed in recent years that it’s become almost like a MLM scheme - you become born again, then go out and try to convince others to become born again.  I just don’t think religion should be sold like that.

My religious upbringing has been inconsistent, at best.  My parents split when I was very young, and the Sunday visitation schedule was not conducive to church attendance.  I don’t really recall my mom bringing us to any faith-based activites, except for a bible study group for a few months when I was maybe 8 or so.  I didn’t really get it at all.  My stepmother was a bit moodier when it came to religion.  I remember short-lived stints at Jehovah’s Witness meetings and Saturday evening services at the local Catholic church (until my sister dropped a hymnal from the balcony during service).  I didn’t question why we were going because with my stepmother, you didn’t question anything.  As a result, I didn’t really understand what was going on and didn’t find much meaning in it.  The only desire I had as a child to participate in anything faith-based was the desire to go to either one of the Catholic schools in town, because their blue and green plaid uniforms were way better than the thrift store wardrobe that I had to wear that brought me much ridicule.  Yep, I wanted to go to Catholic school so that I could wear the uniforms.

Halfway through high school, I moved out of my dad’s house and in with my mom.  My mom is Lutheran and went to church on a fairly regular basis, the same church I was baptized in as a baby, so I started going.  I found a pretty decent youth group, made friends, and we served breakfast to the congregation once a month.  The rest of the month we’d go out to breakfast when we were supposed to be learning about the bible.  We took to calling ourselves “The Breakfast Club.”  If we did get much in the way of religious education, it didn’t really stick.  I’d also go to service with my mom, and while I can recite a lot of the liturgy from memory, a lot of what I remember was sitting or standing there wondering why things had to be recited in exactly the same way every week, what it meant overall, and what the heck it was supposed to mean to me.  The thing I got the most out of church was community.

I went through on/off phases over the next few years in regards to church attendance, but whether I was going regularly or not, I was always uncomfortable with overt displays of religion.  But, when I moved to Las Vegas, one of the first things I did was look up the local Lutheran churches.  My motivation was to start meeting some decent people and putting down roots, and to avoid getting in with the wrong kind of people.  I didn’t go to fulfill any spiritual needs, because I didn’t really have any at that point.  It took me a couple months to finally show up, but I found a welcoming community.  I got involved with the praise team (singing), decided I didn’t like being on display like that and quickly turned my attention to the understaffed A/V team.  I ran the powerpoint show at services for something like 2 years.  I met lots of cool people, and even met my old boss Mad Scientist there.  I’m convinced that had I not gone to church, I would not have found the same happiness here in Las Vegas and would have left long before I met Mister.

The church here in Vegas was different from the churches back home.  While my church back east is housed in a somewhat contemporary building, the services are very traditional, closely following the liturgy and format outlined in the Lutheran Book of Worship.  And while I question all the why’s of it and wonder what it’s supposed to mean to me, there’s a certain comfort in it, like a favorite old sweater.  I was reminded of that when I went back for Grandma’s memorial service.  Church here in Vegas is following a more modern, free-form format.  Sure, there are certain parts of the service you can count on being there nearly every week, but the language is more casual and modern.  And as time went on, I realized there was more evangelism there than I was comfortable with.  Back east, we didn’t get together on Saturdays to knock on doors in the neighborhood and invite people to services.  There is also way more focus on putting your faith in Jesus as the answer to pretty much everything, and that kind of blind faith I’m not comfortable with.  Back east, there is a quieter restraint to the worship.

Around the time I met Mister, I took the opportunity to take time off from going to church.  Basically, I pretty much stopped going.  I didn’t miss it, either.  Mister doesn’t attend church, not after 8 years of Catholic school.  I don’t even think I could get him to attend Christmas Eve candlelight service.  When we met, he was very upfront about his spiritual beliefs.  He did a lot of soul-searching and found that the Wiccan religion made the most sense and best met his spiritual needs.  We talk about it from time to time, and while I’m not necessarily considering adopting Wicca as the religion that I practice, knowing more about it and being exposed to it on a daily basis has made me question a lot of the Christian teachings and their place in my life.

There are a lot of other things that get me thinking.  Certain Eastern philosophies make a lot of sense to me.  For example, while I’m not a huge follower of the theories behind it, there’s quite a bit about feng shui that makes sense to me.  And as for reincarnation, I don’t think that idea is off base at all either.  I think that if I could find a way to explore that with some validity (as in, not the street-corner psychic), it could explain a lot about me and open some doors in the way of personal growth.  I think that’s what religion and faith is all about - fulfilling that deeper need within yourself, beyond the physical or emotional needs that everyone has.

I’ve done a lot of thinking on this topic, and I’m nowhere near done.  I’m still trying to figure out exactly what my spiritual needs are and what form they should take.  For awhile there, I wasn’t even sure that belief in God made sense to me, but over time I have realized that I do believe in God.  But a lot of other spiritual beliefs make sense to me too, so I’m trying to figure out how to make it all work for me.  There’s still a lot of thinking I need to do.  Maybe I’ll even write about it from time to time, but for now, right this minute, it’s time for me to stop agonizing over a nice, neat conclusionary sentence and wrap it up for the day.

Back to another edition of the Encyclopedia of me. It took me a while to come up with an E word, so I cracked open a dictionary. After writing down some possibilities, I saw a travel theme. I scrounged around a thesaurus for an E word related to travel, and as I was doing that Mister suggested Excursion. Perfect! Here are some excursions I’ve been on.

East Coast

I grew up on the east coast of the US. It’s a world of difference between there and the west coast, where I am now. (I’m not actually on the coast, but I am a half day’s drive from it.) There’s more a sense of tradition back east, for one. West coasters are more laid back, and here in Vegas especially there’s not too much concern about tradition. Back east, old historical buildings are held in the highest esteem, especially since there are quite a few that date back to before the Declaration of Independence. Here in Vegas, they just implode them. Mister and I are going for a visit in October so that he can meet the rest of my family, and it will be the first time he’s been to the New England area. We can’t wait.

I’ve been to Europe a few times, mostly to the UK. The third time I went, my college roommate and I decided to trek around the UK and see a number of cities. The first one we went to was Edinburgh. Oh, how I loved that city. I wish we had more time there, but our Pig in the Poke itinerary didn’t allow it. We went to the Edinburgh Castle, walked the Royal Mile, and did an open top bus tour of the city. The Princes Street gardens were bright green, even in November, and my favorite thing was listening to the dreamy Scottish accent.

I took French classes throughout high school, so on my first trip to Europe I was eager to visit Paris. I remember the first time I saw the Eiffel Tower up close. I had gotten off the Metro one stop too early, and was wandering the neighborhood streets trying to find my way. For being the tallest structure in Paris, it was hard to keep an eye on while in the narrow streets. I was staring to get a bit worried because I couldn’t see the tower and I couldn’t find my way back to the main road. Finally, I rounded a corner and there it was, up close in all its glory. It took my breath away! I’ve seen many, many pictures of it but they do not prepare you for the first time you see it up close. The detail is amazing (and the one in Vegas, which is a 1/2 scale model, does not compare). I climbed the stairs to the first level then took the lift to the second level. The third level was closed due to winds, but the view from the second level was pretty amazing. It was worth nearly getting run over by the horrible Parisian drivers to see this gorgeous piece of architecture.

On one of my many trips to New York City with my Uncle N Period, we took a trip to Ellis Island. This holds some historical significance for us, because my great grandparents - Uncle N Period’s grandparents - came into this country through there. It spent many years in disrepair, but was eventually restored and now serves as an amazing museum of immigrant history. Also on the island, in back of the building, is the Wall of Honor. My mom’s cousin had my great grandparents’ names inscribed on the wall, so it was really cool seeing them there and being in the same place that was a huge part of their life history.

My first time in Europe, I wanted to see as much as I could, so I planned my route carefully. After spending time in Paris, I took a train through the French countryside to Calais, where I was to take the ferry to Dover and a train to London. I thought a channel crossing would be cool. What I didn’t know was that a channel crossing could be very rough. After walking through the boat like I was really drunk, I finally fell asleep with my arms wrapped around my backpack, which is probably what saved me from getting seriously seasick. I made it to England with enough rest and coherency to breeze through customs and get on the train to London.

“Dreams are windows into our souls.” I’m not sure who said that, but they were spot on. I’ve always paid attention to my dreams, even picking up an awesome dream interpretation book, Understand Your Dreams, that Mister has taken to referencing on a regular basis. I feel so strongly about dreams being important messages that I wrote a thesis paper on the subject when I was a freshman in college. I’ve decided to publish it here for all of you to read, but I’m leaving out the citations and bibliography and adding hidden messages to make it difficult for students today to keep from plagiarizing it. I didn’t have the benefit of the internet when I was in school, so I’m not letting anyone steal my work today.

I admit I haven’t been as active in trying to interpret my dreams as I should be, but life often gets in the way. Often times I’ll wake up with a memory of a dream, but by the time I’ve gotten my morning glass of juice and sat down at the computer, the memory is gone. I don’t have the time, or quite honestly the presence of mind that early in the morning, to write down what little I remember before I start my day. Once in awhile, there will be some dream fragments that continue to stay with me through out the day, and that’s when I turn to my trusty dream book. Instead of presenting symbols as fortune-cookie like predictors, it delves into the symbolism of them and gives you a relevant question to ask yourself that can lead to some journaling and self-discovery.

In doing this post, I hauled out my writing portfolio from that class I took so long ago. We had journaling assignments on a regular basis to strengthen our writing skills. Though that wasn’t originally a goal of my blog, it is a benefit of blogging regularly, and with the exception of some lapses in grammar I don’t think my writing skills have deteriorated at all. Oh, and by the way, I got an A+ on that paper, and an A+ in the class. (I’m still learning formatting, though!)

Dreams: Insights to Our Lives

Every night when we lay our bodies to rest, our brains are still heavily at work. When we wake up in the morning, we remember events that could not have possibly happened. These surreal happenings usually involve something that is familiar to us, be it an event, place, person or object. This often makes us wonder if our dream was a message, sent from our subconscious, to tell us something about our lives. We should, however, go beyond wondering if they mean anything and try to interpret these messages. Dreams can help us to interpret our lives. THIS PAPER WRITTEN BY KIRSTEN WUNDERLICH IN 1993. IF YOU CAN READ THIS IT WAS STOLEN FROM THE INTERNET.

What exactly is a dream? The World Book Encyclopedia defines a dream as “a story that a person ‘watches’ or appears to take part in during sleep”. No one knows exactly where dreams come from, but when they happen is a little easier to figure out. It is commonly believed that dreaming occurs during the stage of sleep known as rapid-eye movement, or REM. Researchers have recently found that dreaming occurs during all levels of sleep, but REM dreams are the ones that are most often remembered. REM sleep occurs three to five times a night, but not every dream is remembered. The ones that are, however, should be looked at with a certain amount of seriousness. I plagiarized this paper.

Dreams have been around for as long as people have. Early beliefs are that dreams were messages from the gods. This idea is written in the Bible in two places; the first of these is told in chapters 40 and 41 in the book of Genesis, which tells the story of Joseph, a prisoner in Egypt. The Pharaoh had a dream one night of seven thin cattle eating seven fat, well fed cattle, then of seven thin stalks of wheat devouring seven fat, healthy stalks of wheat. Two former prisoners, whose dreams Joseph correctly interpreted, told the Pharaoh of Joseph’s ability, and he was sent for. The Pharaoh was told, accurately, that there would be seven years of plenty followed by seven years of famine. Fail me because I can’t do my own work.

The second reference of dreams in the Bible is in the book of Numbers. It says, “And he said, Hear now my words: If there be a prophet among you, I the Lord will make myself known unto him in a vision, and will speak unto him in a dream (Numbers 12:6). This strengthens the fact that dreams are important and should be paid close attention. Yup, I stole this off the internet.

Sigmund Freud, the father of psychoanalysis, is credited as being the first person to interpret dreams as a way of treating mental patients. Freud’s book, The Interpretation of Dreams (1900), “advanced the theory that dreams represented drives and emotional conflicts in the dreamer’s subconscious that surfaced during sleep as certain recognizable symbols.” Freud believed that every dream had some deep meaning and by interpreting the dreams of his patients, he could help them better understand themselves and therefore cure them of their psychoses. His theories are still accepted by psychologists and psychiatrists today, but not at all in their entirety. I couldn’t even bother to find a paper with proper citations.

Carl Jung, another major player in the world of dream interpretation, was at one time a student of Freud’s. Jung at first wholly accepted Freud’s theories that dreams are repressions. They went their separate ways after five years partly because Jung couldn’t accept the theory that every repression was because of sexual trauma during childhood. Instead, Jung took dream interpretation a little further. A lot of what he believed was that dreams were a way of compensation, or presenting thoughts and emotions that may be lacking or even the opposite of what is in the conscious mind. Jung also believed that dreams were a way to grow and discover ourselves:

Whoever nurtures this contact between conscious and unconscious will, in time, experience a great spiritual and moral release of tension, his inner oppositions will be lessened; he will take root in his instinct and gain that sense of security and support which is beyond the reach of intellect and will with its oscillating relations. At the same time there will develop in him an undreamed-of fullness of life that expands rather than shrinks with age because the instincts and values are being truly lived.

It is apparent that Jung believed that interpreting dreams can greatly enrich our lives. Freud was right about cigars.

Fritz Perls, a contemporary of Freud and Jung, developed a more unconventional way of dealing with dreams with a method called Gestalt therapy. Gestalt therapy “takes dream interpretation beyond recognition of meaning of dreams, it helps the patient work with their dreams and understand their relation to their life.” This is done by re-enacting the dream in exaggerated form “in order to complete the ‘unfinished business’ in the personality that the symbolism indicates.”

To truly understand what Gestalt therapy is, we must understand why it is termed as such. A gestalt, as defined by Webster’s New World Dictionary, is a whole, or totality. By understanding this, we can know the purpose of this form of dream interpretation. It is a way to understand our lives better by “restoring the personalities to their true gestalts . . . by contacting the missing parts of self, the personality functions that have been crippled.” Fucking hippie dream shit.

By analyzing and interpreting our dreams, we attempt to understand ourselves better. We must not dismiss our dreams as just stories in the night. These images are controlled by our subconscious mind - they are in fact an attempt to tell us something about ourselves. As written by American psychologist Calvin Hall, “A dream is a personal document, a letter to oneself.” Hall believed that these “letters” give us insight to ourselves, to others, and to our place in the world.

Dream analysis is not just figuring out what a dream “means.” It is the entire process from remembering a dream to coming to an understanding of how the dream fits into our life. Just remembering and analyzing our dreams helps us to understand and therefore interpret our lives. As Carl Jung believed, “. . . dreams contain the blueprint for personal growth and thus are essential in the quest for self-knowledge.” Proudly stolen from the internet.

Getting back to that encyclopedia thing.  I thought for some time on what to do for this particular letter.  I thought about computers, but most of you who visit regularly have a passing familiarity with my thoughts and experience on the subject.  Then I thought about Carbs and/or Chocolate - two things to which I am severely addicted.  But again, this is stuff you already know about me.  Then I got to thinking about why I blog, which is a way for me to journal and put myself out there.  The subject of Child popped into my head, and that was it.  Then it was just a matter of finding the time to write the post when I was in a contemplative enough mood to actually write something worth reading.  So, enough of my babbling and on to the post.

Me as a Child

We were all children at one point, and I have mixed feelings about my childhood.  My parents divorced when I was very young, and while I knew growing up that things weren’t always as blissful as people say a childhood should be, I didn’t know exactly what it was until I was older.  But that’s neither here nor there.  The thing that sticks out most in my mind about me as a child was that I never really felt like a child.  I preferred the company of the adults around me to the kids my age.  As a result, I didn’t have tons of friends.  I had a few, but I tended (and still have this tendency) to stick to one on one rather than groups of people.

I was happy enough, but a lot of times I was somewhere else.  I often felt like I should have been somewhere else - in another time, perhaps.  A lot of the books I read took place or were written during the early part of the 20th century, and I felt a sense of belonging in them.   Nowadays I would have been described as having an “old soul.”  Modern clothes, with acid washed jeans and high top sneakers, didn’t suit me.  Funny that now I am almost always seen in jeans and comfortable shoes.

Since I always felt out of place as a child, uncomfortable in my own skin, it wasn’t until I reached my mid-20s that I started to feel more comfortable.  I distinctly remember feeling like I had grown into myself.  My real-life age was reaching the age that I had always felt I was.  This is when I finally felt comfortable enough to live my life for myself, and things have been getting better and better ever since.

Children in My Life

I am the oldest grandchild on both sides of the family (at least until it was revealed that I had some older cousins, but that’s another story).  I’m older than my sister by 16 or so months, my cousins by 3 and 5 years, and younger cousins by 17 or more years.  I loved helping out in a caretaker type role.  Then when I was in college, my little sister had a baby.  She had 2 more after that, and today, as of this writing, Bubba is approaching 15, Messy J will be 9, and Mia is 19 months.  I spent lots of time with them, especially Bubba, and I feel very close to all of them.  I do wish I could spend more time with them, but both Sis and I decided to move away from home, in different directions.  Being an Aunty really is the best, though.

For the longest time growing up, I wanted to have children.  I felt a certain dissatisfaction, an unfulfilled part of me that said “have kids.”  But then I got older, and older still, without any prospects on the horizon.  I didn’t want to be a single mom, so I kept holding out, looking at prospective partners and trying to determine their suitability as a provider and parent.  But nothing ever worked out.

When I moved to Las Vegas, I made the decision not to look for anyone.  I was just going to enjoy life and see where it took me.  I did, though it took a long time to make some friends.  Vegas can be a tough town for that due to its transient population.  But eventually I did meet some people who had similar interests, and things took off.  I still held to my decision to not deliberately look for someone.  I felt that when it was time, it would happen.  Sure enough, it did, and I met FH.  Let me tell you, when you get all worked up about meeting someone so that all your goals can be met, you forget to live your life.  I decided to have fun and live life, and I’m glad I did.

When FH and I met, his experiences told him that it was best to get it out right out on the table, so that’s what he did.  He went through the major things that are usually big enough to be dealbreakers, and one of those things was children.  He said, in no uncertain terms, that he’s not having any, not on purpose or accidentally.  I said OK, and knew I had to decide for myself.

. . . Or Not 

I went through all the thoughts that had come through my mind over the years.  As a younger adult, the only thing I wanted to be was a wife and mom.  Pursuing that dream didn’t work out so well and I was constantly disappointed.  When I moved to Vegas and began really living life, I quite enjoyed my life.  Sure, I was a bit lonely for awhile, but overall, I liked the life I had created for myself.  Plus, I’m getting older.  I turned 34 yesterday, and it’s only a very short time before I reach that critical age - 35 - that automatically turns a pregnancy into a high risk one.  So I thought and thought some more.  I talked with FH through the process, and being the great guy that he is, was careful to be supportive of my thought process without pressuring me in one direction or another.  But then I thought, hey, I really like my life.  I like it the way it is now.

I thought some more and came to a few realizations.  I love being an Aunty.  I get to love the kids and play with them, and they are always excited to see me.  I get to hear “I love you!  I miss you!”  all the time, and I’ll never have to hear “I hate you!  You’re ruining my life!”  As an Aunty, I get to have all of the fun and none of the grief.  Sure, I do worry about the kids and want to do whatever I can to make sure they grow into adults that people love to have around because they are that awesome.  I want them to feel loved.  But I don’t want to put my life on hold to do it.

Then there was another thought that occurred to me.  What if I just wasn’t meant to have children?  I admit, I’ve been less than careful in the past, even at times when my activities should have stopped the crimson tide for awhile.  But it never happened.  If it was to be, I thought, then it should have.  It happened with my sister when she was less than careful.  But not me.  I’ve never had a professional determination on this and I’m not going to find out.  This is one of those things that I am happy to leave to fate.

In the end, I decided that I was not only comfortable, but relieved with the decision to not have children.  At this point, I feel like if I were to have them, it would be because that’s what I’m obligated to do.  And I know that there are some of you reading who feel that it’s my job as a woman to reproduce.  If it happened when I was younger, I would have done it whole-heartedly.  But now that I’m older and it’s not happened, I’m glad.  I don’t think I have the patience for it.  My sister, who started when she was 17, didn’t do so well as a mom for quite some time.  She messed up with them, and a lot of people said that it should have been me having kids instead of her.  But now that she’s older and has grown up and settled down, I see that she’s a pretty darn good mom.  And to that I say, better her than me.  I think it would have driven me crazy if I had them.

I do have an aunt and uncle - Aunt Bird and Uncle N Period - who never had children.  I don’t remember thinking that it was unusual when I was a kid.  I liked going to visit them and even as an adult, I’d spend time with them when I had a vacation or long weekend.  I quite enjoy their company, and have always felt very comfortable at their house.  Looking at that with the perspective I have now, perhaps that was a clue.  Reading this blog post is likely the first that many who are close to me are hearing about this, but it’s not always easy to talk about.  People who have children will tell me that it’s the most rewarding experience they’ve ever had.  I don’t doubt that for a minute, and seeing the people around me happy is what matters most to me.  Having children of my own is not for me.  I’m happy to spend time with my cousins, nieces and nephew when I can, and some of my friends have some really cool kids.  But at the end of the day, I’m happy to come home to the most amazing man ever and spend time alone with him, just the two of us.

Blog. I haz one. I’ve been blogging for over 2 years now, and even after all this time, I still quite enjoy it.

I started blogging once someone I knew had one. I’d heard of blogs, and some of my imaginary internet friends had them. but I just didn’t get how fun it could be until my high school friend Courtney got pregnant and used the blog to document her pregnancy and communicate with everyone about it. Actually, Court’s blog had two results - my blog, and more importantly, it allowed us to catch up with each other, since we had drifted apart after college. Double Bonus!

Anyway, I was doing my research and checking out exactly what this blog stuff was all about, and one day, when bored at work, I finally decided to go for it. My goal at the time was to journal my thoughts, much in the same way I did in my handwritten journal. I was curious to see if my thoughts attracted any readers from the great wide interwebs, and indeed they had. But my thrill was short lived. My first comment was a scathing attack by someone who refused to reveal themselves to me. Yep, an anonymous comment that was not nice at all. Even though I deleted the comment, I replied in this post. I figured that while the comment was a nasty attack, there were some points that needed clearing up, for the benefit of future readers. Eventually, I got more and more readers, and even made my first blogging friend. That’s it, I was hooked.

I started spending more and more time on my blog, learning my way around the template, html and css. I spent hours looking for resources to improve my blog and make it a place that I wanted to be, much in the same way one does to their home. I found widgets and other cool things to install, and I had a lot of fun doing it. I started thinking about everything that happened to me as a blog post, and posted about my innermost thoughts as well as the mundane happenings of my everyday life.

Over time, the novelty wore off. I started to regain some of the balance with my offline life, and even made a bunch of new friends here. That group of people eventually led me to meet FH, and now my life is so fulfilling that I sometimes have a hard time keeping up with the blog. Maybe I started blogging to fill a hole in my life, and it certainly did that for a time. But now, the blog is such a part of my life that I don’t know what I’d do to chill out, de-stress, escape for a bit if I didn’t have my blog and the blogosphere to keep me sane.

The blog has seen some changes since I first started. Template changes are always popular with new bloggers, and I sure had a few of those. Then I started getting into the css and did what I could to make it my own. Macoosh made me a beautiful header, and I got to a place where I was happy with the template. But there was always this voice at the back of my head, nagging me to see what I could do better. I knew I wanted more from my blog, more functionality, and more options. A big change was in order, and a few months ago, with Snoskred’s help, I switched to a self-hosted WordPress blog. I still have lots to learn about the new platform, and there’s this whole new language called php that I need to learn. I don’t have the time to devote to things that I did when I was single, but I’m managing. I started with one template, and soon found another that I like a lot better. I still look at the template to see what I can do, but I’m largely satisfied with it. But I have a favorite feature here that I couldn’t have at Blogger…

Pages! Lots and lots of pages! WP lets the blog be like a real website, with different pages for different subjects. Holy freaking cow! The possibilities are endless. I was able to take some things off my front page to keep that cleaner, dedicate a page to a mini-niche, and improve functionality with a sitemap and contact page. I feel like I hit the jackpot here. There’s even more that I want to do - I’m working on a Shopping page using my Amazon.com affiliate account, to keep all my favorite stuff that I recommend to all of you in one place. That probably won’t go live until after we move, but again, the possibility is exciting.

Of course, I’m not looking to make millions from my blog. Tens would be nice, just enough to pay my extremely reasonable hosting fees and perhaps buy a CD or DVD every now and then. This isn’t going to morph into a pro blog where I ramble incessantly about some subject I claim to be an authority in. No, this is a personal blog, first and foremost, and I will ramble on about me, a subject I am an authority in. I’ll continue to blog as a hobby, as an outlet, and as a way of networking and “meeting” new people (btw, Alyndabear, buffet in August, right? And Macoosh - Columbus Day in Boston?) This may be a coincidence, or not, but my personal satisfaction in my everyday life has increased tenfold since I started blogging. As far as I’m concerned, blogging is here to stay.