According to...

I found this today as I was going through a box of old letters. It made me laugh, so I wanted to share it with you. (I don't know much about some of these people, so I don't know how accurate they all are.)

WHY DID THE CHICKEN CROSS THE ROAD?

Kindergarten teacher: To get to the other side.

Plato: For the greater good.

Aristotle: It is the nature of chickens to cross roads.

Karl Marx: It was a historical inevitability.

Captain James T. Kirk: To boldly go where no chicken has gone before.

Martin Luther King Jr: I envision a world where all chickens will be free to cross roads without having their motives being called into question.

Moses: And God came down from the heavens, and He said unto the chicken, "Thou shall cross the road." And the chicken crossed the road, and there was much rejoicing.

Fox Mulder: You saw it cross the road with your own eyes. How many more chickens have to cross the road before you believe it?

Machiavelli: The point is that the chicken crossed the road. Who cares why? The end of crossing the road justifies whatever motive there was.

Jerry Seinfeld: Why does anyone cross a road? I mean, why doesn't anyone ever think to ask, "What the heck was this chicken doing walking around all over the place, anyway?"

Bill Gates: I have just released the new Chicken Office 2008, which will not only cross roads, but will lay eggs, file your important documents, and balance your chequebook.

Oliver Stone: The question is not, "Why did the chicken cross the road?" Rather, it is, "Who was crossing the road at the same time, whom we overlooked in our haste to observe the chicken crossing?"

Charles Darwin: Chickens, over great periods of time, have been naturally selected in such a way that they are now genetically disposed to cross roads.

Albert Einstein: Whether the chicken crossed the road or the road moved beneath the chicken depends upon your frame of reference.

Buddha: Asking this question denies your own chicken nature.

Ralph Waldo Emerson: The chicken did not cross the road... it transcended it.

Ernest Hemingway: To die. In the rain.

Colonel Sanders: I missed one?

More Nostalgia

I'm a keeper. I keep all the notes and letters people give me, and I used to be quite a writer so I've got a big collection. Ten boxes in fact (shoe boxes, not moving boxes). I've started sorting through them because I know there are some I can discard - like the daily emails about homework and the mindless forwards that I printed out and put in the box. I'm getting rid of less than I thought I might, though. Almost everything seems to have significance. I made it to the end of high school (like the photo albums; I guess I'm dealing with the past one era at a time).

It's interesting to go through these old letters because it gives me a different picture of my past. No perspective is ever complete, and I remember things with a certain flavor that does not perfectly reflect the true situations. The picture that I get out of reading the letters I have received is also biased, but it complements what I glean from other sources.

My cousin Lisa is the first to appear in my box of letters. She was my inspiration to correspond in this way, and so she really affected who I became. She used to be so important to me, and we wrote on and off for probably ten years. I leaned on her in some really hard times. In her last letter she asked about some emotional instability that I had hinted at, and I didn't want to talk about it so I never wrote back. Granted, I don't think she wrote again either. But it feels like there's this big chasm between us now, and it would take so much effort to overcome that...

My grandparents were really supportive of me. I probably exchanged the most letters with Oma. She was often telling me how she was proud of me and thought I was such a good kid. This was an early one: "Your such a nice young lady, were really proud of you, and your so pretty" (Feb 1996). A few years later she wrote, "I wont you to know we love you, and will always be here for you if you ever need us." Reading through these old letters makes me remember how important my extended family used to be to me. Later the focus starts to switch to friends. I guess that's typical. But on top of that, I atypically hide my true self and my struggles from my family. Their job is to be proud of me, so I hide whatever's not conducive to that. That makes it hard to be close anymore... But really, how do you say, "Grandma, I have a depression problem." I can't let them be there for me.

Reading notes from my childhood best friend Janelle means a lot to me. We were so much fun! And around mid-high school she began expressing her appreciation for me in touching ways and telling me I had really impacted her life. That's really special to me now. We grew apart at the end of high school as I entered a new social realm, and we kept growing apart after high school. I felt like I had changed a lot, and I didn't know how to be with her anymore. The last time I saw her was when I ran into her at a coffee shop here a few years ago. She gave me her newest number, and I didn't want to call. I feel bad about that. I'm not sure if I'm quite ready to change it though.

I was surprised to read the things my ex-step-dad wrote to me on birthday cards, etc. He said that he felt lucky to have me in his life and to be a part of mine, and he was glad that I was his daughter figure. It makes me wonder when we started fighting, because I definitely have the feeling that we were not okay. Once he and my Mom split up he started saying again that he'd always liked me, and that also sounded strange and untrue to my ears.

My Dad and I used to exchange a lot of emails. I'd forgotten about that. I wonder how I read his notes at the time. A lot of them were daily minutiae, but he also told me he loves me and he's proud of me. I went through a time of feeling very hurt by all his inadequacies as a father, but now I'm content to see that he's done his best. Now his past expressions of love really mean a lot.

The people I babysat for really showered me with cards for a while! One year I got a Christmas card, a Valentines card, an Easter card, and a year end card from them. They thought I was magnificent and they really appreciated me. That's nice to remember.

I found copies of a bunch of my old ICQ conversations with my first boyfriend, as we were getting to know each other before we dated. Those were fun to read. Dating him was premature, but it wasn't the dumbest thing ever. I feel like I can respect myself more in the situation after reading the conversations than relying on what my memory has made it. I also read through the post-relationship email conversation, and that was less fun, more heavy. We didn't last long together, and the break up lasted a lot longer than the relationship did and brought a lot of hard times along with it for me. He tried so hard to be kind, and he's right, my feelings would have been hurt however he'd done it. But from this situation I learned that if the answer is no, just say no. Don't try to be too nice - it will hurt more in the long run.

Toward the end of high school I got involved in my church's youth group and made a whole new circle of friends who encouraged me from a spiritual standpoint. Compliments from my peers tell me that they appreciated me. Even the youth leaders chimed in, and I weight their comments heavily: "You modeled the love of Christ as I've never before seen it." "We are often amazed at all you do in your walk with Jesus." "You are a perfect example of Christianity." I was something special to them.

It touched me to read my family affirming my faith, since none of them really shared it. Dad wrote in a Christmas card: "I know that you have an understanding to the 'true meaning of the season.' I congratulate you in the exceptional focus that you have on all of the important things in your life." My cousin Lisa, a strong Mormon, told me, "Michelle I’m so proud of the life you are choosing to live. You seek the light of Christ daily – and I am certain that you are an example to many people – both friends and adults." Oma's graduation card said: "I hope you will always live your life, so your as lovely on the inside and outside, as you are now."

I was a great person. I had great people in my life, and they appreciated me. They affirmed that I was going in a good direction and cheered me on. But... I'm different now. And if I was great then, and if I do not feel like who I am now is consistent with who I was then, what does that say about me and where I currently am? What would they think of me now, what hope does that leave for reconnection?

I had to grow up. We would all agree. And... maybe the direction I grew was necessary, was right. Maybe that was right for then and this is right for now. I feel like that is a possibility, but can't trust it to be a certainty...

Reciprocal

Getting to know someone means that you have to be willing to be known. You can't expect to see them unless you're willing to show yourself. And so you have to trust that you'll be accepted and respected and understood yourself, just as you trust that you can accept, respect and understand what they reveal.

So much of who I am and how I see my life sits in the context of religion. That is foreign in the world where I live. I fear that few will understand who I am beneath the surface because they think in different categories. I don't exactly know how to be true to myself as I reveal myself in a way they can relate to... Actually, I don't even know how to fit myself into words.

Thoughts of the Day

I had another really good talk with Brandon at work today. He needed to get some stuff off his chest. Not work stuff, just life stuff. We both had "we're there when you need us" kind of tasks today, so in the meantime we paced back and forth across our department together, looking busy enough, gleaning time for conversation. And now I reflect...

I'm honored that he talks to me about what's going on and about who he is. I'm impressed by his bravery and his honesty - since when do you tell the paragon of modesty about your sexual exploits? I like it that he seems to not fear I will judge. I like being one of the ones who gets to listen and care.

He's so very different than me.

I can't tell him what to do, who to be.
I don't want to tell him how to feel.

But maybe he's not okay.
Maybe continuing on this path is not good for him.

What is good?
Where is life?

I don't have answers.

Is this path of purity that I walk actually better?

And if it is, how do I say that to those who have chosen a different path?

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Being cheerful and being depressed are not mutually exclusive.

We are often surprised by the people who admit to depression. "What? I would never expect that from you! You're always so happy!" (I'm one of them, right?) Melancholia often doesn't make its way all the way to the surface.

Or is it just a matter of masks? Do we hide what we are uncomfortable with behind a false front? In some cases, surely. In every case, no. It's perhaps because I have accepted the fact of my depression that it is more content to sit below the surface.

Acting cheerful is just as much a part of who I am as feeling awful. I can't deny either part of myself.

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Today I noticed that Laura has a scar across her throat, and I wondered why. But I'll probably never know because she's leaving next week and I don't know how to bring it up. It doesn't exactly seem like break room conversation, let alone working conversation. And I hesitate to bring up people's pain, which makes it hard to have a conversation about anything since you never know what might be a painful topic. That makes it hard to get to know people. Maybe it's okay if the whole tone of the conversation can say I care. Maybe being interested in even their painful places is how I can show that I care.

I am sad to see Laura go without getting to know her better. I really like her, and she's actually one of the girls I enjoy having around most. We have a lot of camaraderie between us. But I don't know about her scar, and that made me realize how little I actually know her.

The problem with work and friends is that you never know when or if you'll get a chance to talk with someone on a given day. It's not based on community, it's based on filling a role that doesn't lend itself well to significant personal conversations. Maybe the real connecting needs to happen more outside work. There's a Starbucks just down the street.

I need to take Deanna out for coffee sometime soon. I want to see her smile, and I suspect that perhaps you need to get to know her for that to happen. She is painfully shy. (I think that's it.) I just wonder who she is and what lies beneath her pale exterior.

Update: I wrote Deanna a note saying, "We should go for coffee or something!" But then I didn't really feel sincere about that whenever I had the chance to give it to her. So I never did, and then she quit.

Party and Miscellany

Tonight was Jenson's going away party. I was never close to Jenson because we worked in different departments and I didn't feel like we really connected, but we had an amiable enough work relationship. A few weeks ago he made a point of telling me he was leaving, though, and for something to say in response I asked if he was having a goodbye party. He seemed eager to tell me about it, so I felt like it was worth going. Maybe I matter to him. Then the girls and I made a date of it. And it was fun. We had dinner in a restaurant, and then sat and talked almost until midnight. I like hanging out with my coworkers.

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This party gave me less to think about and less to regret than the last one did. (I never did blog about that.) I guess I am swayed by my company, and the whole flavor to this party was different. Funny, since this party celebrated a guy in his twenties and the last one, for a married woman in her thirties, was much more dirty. This one was refreshing.

Still... was I too flirty with Iain? I leaned too much, and put my arm around him a couple times. What did he think?... What did I want out of that?... I like that we're friends. He's really young. I think I just wanted touch and nearness. It's a fine line between being friendly and being flirty. I think that friendliness becomes leading someone on when it makes them rightfully hope for something you do not intend. And I don't want it to be true of me that my actions are insincere. Hmm... so this party has left me with food for thought.

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I had a talk with Bob tonight. It started as a shouted conversation across the table, and then I moved closer. We talked religion. He'd had about twelve drinks and he was so wasted. He told me about the different varieties of Christianity he has experimented with, then labeled himself an agnostic. He told me he thinks it's all just about loving your neighbour as yourself and having good intentions. I just listened. It might have been a "witnessing opportunity," but I didn't want to argue. I feel like I have no claim to truth. I assume that the things I believe are true, but I couldn't convince anyone else of them unless they already wanted to believe.

I wonder what Bob would say about religious matters and his soul if he were sober. I wonder what I would say if I were drunk.

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Long ago a friend wrote to me that he'd never heard me say anything remotely negative about anyone. Last week my manager told me that he admires how I don't gossip or spread rumors. I like it that they think this... but I'm not sure that I agree. I'm not really sure what constitutes gossip, and work and coworkers are what we have in common so that forms a big part of our conversation. It feels good to express my frustrations... But I don't actually want to hurt anyone and there's no guarantee that it won't get back to them...

When Tammy left tonight I wanted to say, "She can get away with the strangest hairstyles!" But she had been part of the whole conversation until then, so somehow it felt wrong to make her the topic of it. Is it any different for the people who weren't sitting there with us tonight?

I want to be realistic. Realistically, some people have disrespectable qualities and drive me nuts. Realistically I think it's fair for me to voice my experience. But I also highly regard Melanie Wilkes (from Gone With the Wind), who never believes anything bad about anyone. I'm just not sure if I want to hope to be like her. It's not very realistic.

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I had a bad day with Dale again today. It really bugs me when he tells me what to do. Actually, it bugs me whenever he talks to me. A couple small conversations left me really angry for a good part of the day. Good news though - another week and he's on holidays again! But I can't keep holding my breath for his vacation.

My burning question is: "How do I deal with Dale?" I've tried taking it up with managers. One said he'd observe him and talk to him. The other told me to just consider it his personality and bear with it. But when his personality makes me this frustrated, I can't just suck it up. And... my reaction to him isn't just because of him - it's an intersection between the frustration and me. He says something, a strong reaction rises up in me, I try to think of a better way to handle it, I realize I don't want to react better, I just want to stop. Growing is too hard and I don't want to be in a life where that is required. This mild suicidalness makes me even more frustrated with Dale, who gave me occasion for it.

I can't really say all that to the managers. These problems fall outside their realm. Tonight I remembered that my benefits give me access to free counseling. Maybe that's where I should take my question. "How do I deal with this coworker who frustrates me so much?" However, since my frustration is linked to everything else, I may be bringing up more than I realize by bringing Dale up with a counselor. But maybe that would be good for me.

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Here's some more Jars of Clay. This one's my favorite: Sad Clown.

Assistance

She's going back to work. She doesn't want to though. The baby will be barely a year old and she wants to stay home with him. But if she doesn't contribute to the family's income, their mortgage will account for half of what they are bringing in. She feels like she has little choice.

We had coffee today. And as I thought in advance about things we could talk about, I figured I could pull out my camera and show her the pictures I took the day before. But then I realized that that would be a terrible thing to do, because the story behind those pictures is that I spent all the birthday money my Dad sent me on clothes (that I didn't really need), so I took pictures of myself in every outfit to sent to him along with a thank you card. Although I'm not ashamed of spending my birthday money this way, neither am I especially proud of it, and I can't advertise my frivolous abundance to a friend who is struggling financially.

I want to help them out. I get paid well, I'm on my own so I'm not responsible for anyone else, and I don't have a mortgage to worry about. It feels strange to have an abundance when my friend is struggling, and I feel like their family is a good investment for my money. Not that I expect to make a big difference, not that my help will mean she won't return to work, not that they won't be fine without me. But when money is tight luxuries are the first to go, and if I could I'd like to return some luxuries to them.

I'm not sure how exactly to do this though. I don't want them to feel like it's charity, and I don't want them to feel like I'm flashing my money around. I want them to feel joyful and blessed, not belittled or jealous. Maybe I can give more generous gifts for more occasions (so that there's a reason I'm giving the gift), and then little things more often (that they won't feel guilty about). Gift cards for a date night for their anniversary. A box of his favorite cereal when I come visit. Some money for their son's RESP for his birthday. Scrapbook stickers in the mail. Maybe I can treat her and I to a spa day sometime.

I know she would do it for me in a heartbeat. And she has been a faithful friend to me for a long time.

Long ago another friend lamented her financial woes on her blog, and one of her friends replied that if she ever needed money she could just let her know and she would be glad to provide because she had fewer expenses. I was shocked by that generosity at the time, but today that resonates with me a little bit, and that makes me happy.

Cottage

My Mom and her boyfriend bought a cottage near a lake, and I spent my days off visiting them out there. This isn't a cottage in the woods; it's a cottage on a golf course. And everyone zips around in their golf carts (whether they're golfing or not) and waves at everyone else. It's just a big happy community. I felt uncomfortable with all the friendliness, and I suppose that makes me the snob from the city who's too introverted to wave at the bypassers...

It's a beautiful place though. It's still under some construction, and I was struck by the variety of dwellings filling the lots - from mansions to trailers on the same street. It's strange when my family becomes one that owns summer property. They said I can use it whenever I want to!

Working

At work I've "ran the board" for the last three days. That's the most difficult of the supervisor's roles - organizing all the employees, making sure they get all their breaks, making sure enough tills are open, as well as doing all the other little supervisor tasks. And looking back I pretty much rocked it. Before last week I'd never done this for an entire shift before, and a few months ago it stressed me out so much that it would make me cry. Having stood up to the challenge, I'm a better supervisor at the end of this week.

Not that it's been easy. I've missed four breaks in three days (personally). Justin (not the one who left, the other one) tells me I look all intense and grumpy when I'm on the "broad" (yeah, that's right), so he's started calling me "Mavis" ('cause it's a grumpy name). (But he's been grumpy this week too, so I'm calling him "Edgar.") Tonight the line-up went back probably five aisles (not okay!). By 8:00 I'm completely frustrated and angry, and I have wanted to cry by the time we close.

Today was both the worst and best day of the three. I got there and I just felt frustrated. An important piece of paperwork that I base the rest of my day on wasn't filled out, and that would have been okay, I could just do it myself, except that it's the pet project of the person I took over for and the fact that she didn't do it makes me feel like I care more about her project than she does. I started doing it and someone else offered to finish it for me. That was nice of her, but I told her three times what I needed on there ("cashier numbers and names") and she came back with only half of the information, which wasn't very useful to me. I felt like I didn't have enough staff, and I was in a bad mood so everything seemed even worse than it was. My stomach was starting to hurt because of all the deep breathing I was doing to try to handle my anxiety. Then I had to go for lunch half an hour early because I had to get back before the only other person who knew how to run the board was off. I knew I wouldn't get a last break, so an early lunch made my final stretch four and a half hours long, and that did not please me. Actually, a personal meltdown would not have surprised me today. But instead things got better after lunch break! I had a lot of support from my manager, which was really helpful. Plus, the fact that he was helping me meant that he couldn't blame me for all the things that were not ideal. And he told me I did really well.

I had this conversation with Brandon today:
"The anxiety is getting to me today."
"Why? What's bugging you?"
"Nothing in particular... Maybe I have an anxiety disorder."
"I have three separate anxiety disorders. And they all play off each other."
"That's gotta suck. I think my anxiety stems from my depression."
"Yeah, I have depression too."
And then I had to run off for something. But he brought it up again later. "How's your anxiety? Has it gone down?" And these conversations meant a lot to me. I wouldn't expect it from him. He's got a lot of attitude and a lot of confidence and he's always talking smack. I'm glad to have been given a glimpse inside.

Chasm

Imagining...
Imagining the fights.
Imagining the night she said "It's over."
Imagining his first night on his own.
"It's over."
Renting a room from some old ladies in an old house.
Having a shelf in the pantry. A glass jar of chocolate chips.

He hasn't spoken to her since.
It's been sixteen years.

Someone else asked why. He said it's because he still loves her. And so it still hurts.

"Mom" and "Dad" don't go in the same sentence.

Inspired by:

Every Other Weekend

Reba McEntire & Kenny Chesney

Regret

So I said too much in the email I sent to my high school friends. I know this because although I haven't heard any responses yet, I don't want to hear any. I hope no one actually gets the email. And every day I'm a bit afraid to check my email - afraid someone has responded. Yup, I shouldn't have said so much.

Update 07/21/08: One girl emailed back. It took me a day and a half to open her email. And it was nice to read it and to hear about what she's up to. I wonder how who she is compares to who she was. I wonder if everyone else has changed their email addresses.

Update 07/31/08: I got another response today. This time I said "Yay! I'm so excited!" I was closer to this friend, and he knew me better to start with. It turns out he's now in the same city I am, so hopefully we'll do coffee sometime!

Nostalgia

I spent a good part of today sorting through my photo albums. I got my first camera when I was ten and a half, so I've got lots of random pictures - a bunch of which I am tossing. It was a journey to wade through these. I got as far as the summer after high school. The rest can wait for another day.

The things that blessed me so much were when lots of people came to the few parties I had in high school, and when my Christian friends took an interest in my brother. This picture, from my eighteenth birthday, says it all for me:
People were scattered all around my backyard, and this group contained my brother. It reminds me of the time my brother tagged along to a New Years Eve church event and one guy struck up a conversation with him and another told me he wanted to take him out for ice cream sometime, and that meant the world to me. I wanted him to have Christian influences, but I think I also wanted him to see that my friends were cool and thereby validate my own life and choices in his eyes...

Here's some high school music to enjoy:

Jars of Clay, Goodbye Goodnight.
This was one of our options as a grad song. I can't believe that was so long ago.

Looking back, I remember how much fun it was to be part of the youth group and to have a realm where I could feel popular. But now the friends that I miss are the nonChristian group I hung out with. I feel like they were truer friends to me. The wider, the shallower; the fewer, the deeper, I guess. I didn't always know that or value them as I should have. (And perhaps I only remember the good times now and forget how they hurt me.) I'm trying to craft a reconnecting email to them. We'll see how it goes. I'm just wondering how honest I should be, or rather how much I should be honest about. Do I leave it at "everything's good," or do I get into the fact that I am not well? Whoops!! Well, I accidentally just sent the half-finished draft. Boo. That'll teach me to put the email addresses in first. I guess there's no thinking about whether I'm actually ready to send it and fully sincere... It's weird to think that pushing some keyboard buttons and then clicking the send button actually has great power, touching people and making things different. Kinda surreal, kinda scary.

I've been very mindful of the transition out of high school lately because that's what my friend Trevor is going through. He just graduated, and he'll be moving out to go to university in the fall. We haven't talked about it much, but just thinking about what he is going through brings me back to my post-high school experience. I think I cried every day that summer. It's rough growing up. I hope he has an easier time of it. I'm trying to think of advice and freezer meals to send him off with.

I wonder if I could use old pictures as creative note paper...

Birthday

Four years ago on my birthday I had a couple girls over to watch a movie after work. They didn't know it was my birthday until my brother came home and gave me some barbecue sauce. I was okay with that; I didn't need them to know. Now I hardly even remember who they were. Contrast with this year: I had two birthday parties and everyone knew it was my birthday because I kept talking about it. "It's my birthday! It's my birthday! It's my birthday!" I wonder why I needed so much more attention this year... It was nice, though, to have friends who were eager to celebrate with me. In the future when I look back on this birthday I won't need to wonder what the names of my birthday companions were and whatever happened to them.

My birthday was good. I worked. Last year I was off for my birthday and it was so stressful and miserable to try to figure out what to do that I thought it would be better to just work this year. At least then I knew I would be surrounded by people and occupied. Plus, I think that to some degree it was a choice to spend my birthday with my coworkers. They are an important community to me. One work friend made me pies for my birthday which I got to share with other coworkers I'm fond of on break, and that was joyful for me. "Want some pie? It's my birthday!" It really made my day. Oh, and another guy sang me a depressing happy birthday song really loudly on my last break, and I loved that attention.

After work I had plans with two friends - I just didn't know what they were. I only knew I needed to come home after work. I wasn't sure what to expect or how high to let my hopes rise, but we had a good night. They looked back on my list of parties I hoped to host when I moved here for something I hadn't done yet, and we had a knitting party. After we had cake we put on a movie and we knitted. And there were even knitting goody bags, full of knitting notions. I was really touched by the thought they put in to what they planned.

There were other friends I wanted to celebrate my birthday with too, so I decided to have a little birthday party on another day - a Chocolate Fountain Birthday Party (another from my list). That was a lot of fun. It was a chance for me to get together with my best friends from different circles of my life - Work, Recent School, Past School, and a few Unconnecteds - and to give them a chance to get to know each other so they can put a face with a name when I talk about them. And we ate a lot of fruit and other stuff dipped in chocolate. Mmmmm. My favorite was the cream puffs. It was a good night.

Invitation

Chocolate Fountain Birthday Party
Come celebrate my birthday with me and the chocolate!

Wednesday July 16
7:00 at my place

Bring something to dip in chocolate!

(Please let me know if you can make it!)

I Can't Stand Dale

So, I'm having a problem with a guy at work. The problem is that he's insane. Not insane like the schizophrenic supervisor who went off his meds and told us to go out for buggies when we were already half an hour late for break, and then quit. This guy does things that make sense, but in the most frustrating, aggravating way possible. And I'd actually rather have the schizophrenic guy around.

He's always been odd, with his bleach phobia (that's right) and the way he used to call you "buddy" a hundred times a shift. I'm not your buddy!! Recently he got a promotion, and I think it went to his head to make him all the crazier. I've never been his fan, but the last few weeks with him have been awful.

We've tried to diagnose him. There's some OCD in there. One person called it separation anxiety (and just as we were talking about this he came on the radio: "Michelle? I don't see you. Where are you, Michelle?"). Another person thinks he has an anger problem, repressed rage (he expresses his frustration on people who aren't the cause). I think he can't handle easy-going-ness or a lack of structure, so he feels the need to impose structure by telling everyone what to do.

Beyond the vague accusation of "insanity" and our stabs at a psychiatric label, I'm trying to figure out exactly what my problem is with him. Here's what it looks like on my side: He frustrates me to no end. I want to be as far away from him as possible, and work is a million times better when he has days off or goes on vacation. I often have to clench my fists to endure a conversation (however minimal) with him, and sometimes I have to curl up my toes as well. I leave every exchange feeling angry and he saps my desire to live. I don't like who I am in these situations, and I'm not proud of how much I vent about it to other people.

Unfortunately (?) I'm having a hard time identifying what it is about him that makes me feel this way. Then I wonder if it's just me... But how my day turns out is pretty dependant on how much interaction I have with him. And everyone else assures me it's not just me, it's him. Plus, I'm not the only one who has a problem with him - there are very few who don't.

The only time he admits he didn't know something is when I tell him that something he did didn't need to be done. "Here's an MPH." "Oh, I already got one." "Well no one told me!" The rest of the time it's: "This cashier is an hour late for break." "Oh yeah, I know." "That person was off ten minutes ago." "I've got it covered." Perhaps he thinks it makes the person feel better that he didn't forget them, but I would feel worse knowing that he knew and didn't fix it. I've realized it's not worth telling him anything since he already knows it all. But the other part of me is convinced that he just pretends he already knew what I just told him, and he does need the reminder. But I'm tired of hearing "I don't need to be told that."

He doesn't listen. I start to say something and he interrupts, so I just stop talking. Actually, lately I have just stopped talking for the most part. When he says something I ignore him, just stand there, or "hmm." That's not very nice of me, but I can't talk to him.

He's been telling us what to do a lot. And that's not so bad for the people below him - it's often his job to organize them. But I fill the same role he does. He doesn't need say, "I'll get you to go for break now" or "I'll get you back to your zone please." On one hand, as I complain about this, I realize that it's fair for supervisors to make requests of each other in order for everything to run smoothly, and the person "running the board" has the best view of the whole picture and sees best what everyone (including the other supervisors) needs to do. But interactions between all the other supervisors work much more pleasantly. I think that's because we see each other as equals and so our requests come across differently and we're open to each other's input, whereas with him it feels like a hierarchy with him on top giving the orders. He's not my manager.

He tries to be very nice, encouraging, and appreciative. And for some reason that is so frustrating. I wish he'd just say nothing at all. It also makes it hard to complain against. I can't say, "He was rude and disrespectful;" I can only say, "It made me want to punch him when he thanked me for doing a good job. Shut up!" Someone said that it's because he's not sincere. I'm not sure if that's it - I imagine he thinks he means what he says. It's just that I do not want him to encourage me, notice me, or say anything to me. Somehow his "niceness" is a huge part of the problem.

Sometimes I can see his reasons behind what he does. Unfortunately that doesn't make me more understanding - he still bothers me to no end. Instead, seeing where he's coming from makes me fear that I am just like him. I try to be nice too. I try to tell people I appreciate their work. I probably end up interrupting people without realizing it. Everyone assures me that I'm nothing like him, and I believe them but I wonder what makes me different.

Eventually/soonish I'll have to have a talk with him. I just have no idea what to say. I hoped that writing this out would clarify some of my issues for me, but I don't think it has. I don't know what to expect by bringing things up with him - I'd love to say, "I have a problem with you doing this objectively bad thing, so please stop it," but all my complaints feel so subjective. Maybe I'll bring it up with a manager. Then I can tell them about how he drives me crazy and ask for their input on the situation. If nothing else, it will add my vote to the anti-fan club.

Chocolate Oatmeal Peanut Butter Chip Cookies

My family has two classic cookie recipes. This is the more special, less commonly made one of the two. It's my brother's favorite, and it's what I made tonight.

1 cup butter
1 1/2 cups sugar
2 eggs
2 tsp vanilla
1 1/2 cups flour
1/2 cup cocoa
3/4 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
2 cups oatmeal
2 cups peanut butter chips

Cream butter and sugar. Add eggs and vanilla; beat well. Combine flour, cocoa, baking soda and salt, and add to creamed mixture. Stir in oatmeal and peanut butter chips. Bake on an ungreased cookie sheet at 350 for 9-12 minutes.

"It's You"

I bought the Chronicles of Narnia in Radio Theatre form, and I've been listening to them on my kitchen CD player lately while baking or cooking. They're pretty good - they stay quite true to the original stories, just with more dialogue and less narration, and it's nice that they don't require your undivided attention like reading does. My greatest critique is that they got Aslan's voice wrong - he sounds all spooky. Still, I'm pleased.

I've been doing a lot of baking lately - I share it at work after close on the weekends - so I've been doing a lot of listening lately. I finished up The Voyage of the Dawn Treader tonight as I was washing the dishes.

The children are talking to Aslan, a goodbye before returning home, and Lucy asks Aslan when they can return to Narnia again. He tells them that they won't return. This is the worst news they could hear. "'It isn't Narnia, you know,' sobbed Lucy. 'It's you. We shan't meet you there. And how can we live, never meeting you?'" In Narnia she was a queen, she was respected, she had fantastic adventures, she had friends and people she cared about. But that didn't matter to her. What she couldn't bear living without was Aslan. It's you.

I started to cry. Hands in the dishwater, mascara running down my cheeks.

Just to be with you, I'd do anything.
Contemplative.

(Other beautiful things were said to conclude the story too. But this is what touched my soul.)

This Moment

One thirty in the morning. Not a soul in sight.
Sitting on my balcony. It's beautiful out tonight. Twenty-five still? I love summer right now. And I don't think the mosquitos can find me here. That or it's dark enough that I just don't see them.
Peace. Waiting.
I've been doing that a lot lately, or trying to at least - waiting. I recently heard something about taking time for prayer standing in contrast to our super busy, always-on-the-run society, and I liked that. I also read something about silence a few weeks ago that inspired me to take time most days to just sit and be quiet and... wait. Not for anything in particular, perhaps just for God, though I don't know what that would look like. I realized that I want to be the kind of person who nurtures my soul, and I felt like this contributes to that. (But I've skipped it for the last few days, so perhaps this habit has already run its course.)
My Dad is going to come and visit me tomorrow! He's passing by on his way to visit Oma, and he'll stop in here for ice cream and soda or something before I go to work. I'm looking forward to that. Not that I expect our time together to be great, but I like every little way that he says "I want to be a part of your life," and visiting him just makes me too sad to be worth the effort right now. Plus, it gave me a reason to clean up my place (er, most of my place).
That's the thing about messiness and laziness. It's hard to clean unless you feel like you have a reason to do so, like someone coming over. But you avoid having people over because it's messy. But then you never have a reason to clean. It's nice when something happens to break that cycle. Maybe I can make it last...
I've have the last four days off. Tues was a stat, and I wanted Mon off so I took a vacation day, and then I had my two regular days off. I didn't realize that would add up to four days away from work, and I was a little apprehensive about filling the time. But it was good. I had a Blitz Barbecue, a meeting with the ex, a phone call from a friend, a movie afternoon, and a nap, plus I got some reading and crocheting done. And I feel better at the end of it. I've gone home to visit Mom for my days off the past two weeks, so it was nice to just spend some time at home here.
I've noticed lately that when I don't need to get up for anything, I tend to sleep for ten hours. So I figured I should try to give myself that even when I do have to get up at a certain time. It's not going to happen tonight, but I had a ridiculously long nap today so hopefully whatever I get will be enough. I am going to bed.
Adieu. Goodnight.

The Talk

Sitting in Starbucks, after having gone to see a movie, after having gone for dinner.
"Penny for your thoughts?"
"Well, you said that there was something you wanted to talk about. I was wondering if that had come up yet."
"No, I, uh, didn't know how to bring it up..."
"Well, how about now?"
"No, um, now I'm trying to stall."
Half an hour later, when they tell us they're closing: "I'm still trying to stall."
Finally: "I wanted to apologize to you. When I think back on our relationship, I'm not proud of some of the things I did. I'm not proud of who I was. I was not a good boyfriend to you. I took things from you that were not mine to take. So I guess I'm trying to say I'm sorry."

I listened. Then I thanked him for his apologies. And now I'm thinking.

Back when he first suggested getting together to talk something over, I thought that this might be one of the reasons why. I figured then that if he apologized it would be the hardest option for me because I would have to reciprocate. But now, a few months later, it wasn't that bad. Nor was it that good, at least for me. I said I was sorry for the difficulty I caused him, and I meant it, but it wasn't especially heartfelt on my end. I could say that I don't regret dating him, but I didn't apologize for specifics or talk about forgiveness because I'm not sure where I am on those journeys right now.

I've learned over the years that it can take exceptionally long to really get over someone - way way longer that you would expect - and you can think that things are settled way more than they really are. Also, as much as they say that forgiveness is a choice, I think that it is something that grows slowly and sneaks up on you. When the growth is slow and gradual it is hard to rate your progress. I know that there is true forgiveness between Ryan (my first boyfriend) and I because five years after we broke up we exchanged apologies in what became a big emotional healing experience for me. Now my heart wishes him well and I am honestly proud of who he has become. Jason (my second boyfriend) and I didn't really have an experience like that, and so although I imagine that I have dealt with it, that may not be completely true and some healing may remain. I can't just make it happen; I have to wait until the time is ripe. It's only been two years since Joel and I broke up. On one hand that is a long time, and we have gone through many stages of getting over that relationship, but the process is not complete and to me forgiveness feels like a concluding word that I don't want to use prematurely.

Of course, the situation with Joel is different than the ones that preceded it, and I'm not sure how that changes the healing process. Never before did it last so long. Never before did I want to get out of the relationship, was I relieved when it was over. Never before was I the one to end it. Never before was there so much for them to apologize for. Never before did we really remain in touch afterwards.

I look back on our relationship as a part of my life, my story, which overall I am learning not to despise. I don't connect the events with him so much. It's like I said to Ryan when he apologized for the pain that relationship caused me - I couldn't deny the pain, but I didn't blame him for it. Sometimes I tell horror stories about my time with Joel, but I mean for them to say more about me and my experiences than about him. Maybe that's forgiveness-ish.

I'm not the only one experiencing this post-relationship - he is dealing with it too, and I want to be sensitive to that. He mentioned tonight that this winter someone invited him to a weekly thing that I attend, but he declined because he didn't think he could handle seeing me that often... What does he need from me to help him get over it? Perhaps expressions of forgiveness...