We're on the right track

I have been thinking often about what I want to do with my life. Obviously, I will be starting a new job on Monday, so that's something. But where will I go from there? I have no real plans. My personality has always led me to go with the flow, never really knowing or caring what's around the next corner. I simply give it my best, consider every most every step, and always remain open-minded. But is that enough? I always feel like I'm waiting for something. But what? Trying to be ready for anything all the time, to always work without knowing what exactly I'm working toward, can be difficult.

I haven't had a break from work since I was 18 years old. Seriously. I've had a job (or two at a time) since 2002, even when I went to college full-time. I've never taken a break between jobs, and the longest vacation I ever took was for our honeymoon, which was only one week. Keeping this pace is exhausting and I constantly wonder why I do it to myself, but it basically boils down to having a paycheck. I wish money was less necessary.

I definitely don't mean to complain. I am where I am because I want to be here. I have chosen my path all along and I'm well aware of it. I am excited to begin a new job on Monday, but I also keep wishing I could have allowed myself a week between jobs to just be at home -- to play my guitar, study photography, listen to music, read a good book, organize the closets and finish unpacking all the things we have yet to unpack, to dust and vacuum, to eat, ride my bike, and take Lakota swimming at the lake. 

Part of me will always want to stay home and be a wife. I'd like to pay some serious attention to our house and my family without worrying about everyone and everything else. I'd like to build a life, not just pay for it. I know for certain that I can't let myself remain in an office environment for the rest of forever. It's depressing. 

I'm hoping and praying that this new job will open doors that will allow me to be out and about doing things. Interesting things. Fun things. I hope Hub will find a place (a job) that will allow him the same. I want him to be happy as much or more than I want it for myself. I think we're on the right track; we just have to keep moving.

Dear Letters: Social Media Edition

Dear Facebook, This love/hate relationship is becoming harder and harder. Perhaps we should consider counceling?

Dear iTunes, Even on my worst days, your music makes me smile.

Dear Google, At this rate, you're liable to clobber Microsoft soon.

Dear Twitter, I wish more of my friends would convert so we could all dump Facebook. Status updates are the most important feature anyway.

Dear Etsy, Just take my wallet. It would be easier on both of us.

Dear Pinterest, Marry me?

Dear YouTube, If I can't travel, at least I have you to show me the world. But, let's be honest, not everyone should own a camera.

Dear Instagram, Lurve.

Dear Apple, If you and Google got together, you could rule the world, like Pinky and the Brain.

Dear Blogger, You're my favorite. Don't tell the others.

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Note: After writing my version of Kristie's letters last week, this "Social Media Edition" popped into my head. If you write your own version, let me know. I'd love to read it.

It's spring fever

{photo taken yesterday by yours truly}

It's spring fever. That is what the name of it is. 

And when you've got it, you want -- 

oh you don't quite know what it is you do want, 

but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so.

~ Mark Twain

I am employed

News spreads quickly so I'll speed up the process in my own words.

I {finally} have a {new} job. Yippee! After more than six months of serious searching and waiting and interviewing and turning down part-time jobs and begging for benefits and wondering if I will ever get to live with my husband again, it has finally happened. Best of all, it's right up my alley -- journalism.

Unfortunately, not everything is perfect. Hub recently learned that his job position is changing. He has been asked to make a lateral move in the company to cover a position from which someone recently quit. It isn't a terrible move to make because nothing will change except his job title and hours. But, as you might imagine, the change in working hours (and days) is the part that irritates us. Instead of working the typical Monday through Friday, he will now rotate days and his hours are yet unknown. It seems just when we finally get the chance to be together again, his job is taking our togetherness away.

But there must always be bad with good. Otherwise, we wouldn't know how good we have it. (I keep repeating this to myself lately.) In the end, I'm sure it will all work out for the best. We always keep our minds open to new adventures and this is just the beginning of a new chapter.

Back to the good news...

I'll be working as a receptionist at a local television news station. "Receptionist" is the official title, I believe, but I also will create slide shows and such for advertising sales. I am so excited to have an opportunity to be creative and work with other professionals in my desired field. I'm excited to learn. Everyone I've met so far is extremely nice and seemingly willing to help me better myself and move up in the world. Granted, broadcast journalism is fairly different than print journalism, which I studied in college, but it's all news and it's all creative and interesting and fun. I love public relations and communications. Now I only hope I can surprise myself and impress everyone. I feel good things will happen here. *fingers crossed*

Dear Letters: Erin's Version

Dear Monday, no.

Dear iPod, get a longer battery life. Sheesh.

Dear House, I promise I haven't neglected you, but life is busy. PS -- Next time I open the windows, let's try to keep the pollen outside.

Dear Groceries, you make me wish I were more self-sufficient. Call me when prices drop.

Dear Blogland, I'm still here. Somewhere. Don't give up on me.

Dear Camera, it's time for a major upgrade.

Dear Arkansas, please don't be as hot as last summer. That was rude.

Dear Car, hang in there. I need you just a little longer.

Dear Zumba, you are my new best friend. Have you seen my booty? Lookin' better.

Dear Hub, you are the best roommate ever. My laundry appreciates you.

Dear Legs, you're the reason I'm short.

Dear Sister, what would I do without you? No one else will convince me to buy things I don't need.

Dear Self, ♫ just keep swimming... ♪

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Original post by Kristie Was Here.
If you don't read her blog, you are missing out.

This is how we do it

First of all, today is my mom's birthday. Lucky March 13th. We celebrated our birthdays, which are five days apart, this weekend with family. I truly love sharing birthday parties with Mom.

We were given awesome gifts, shared some delicious cake, and enjoyed the beautiful weather. Thanks to my sis for hosting the party at her humble abode. It was the best birthday we've had all year. *snort*

But, like I said, today is not my birthday; it is Mom's. So...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOM!

You are the BEST mommy a girl could ever have. Fo realz!

Baby Nephew approved of our partying.

He could not take his eyes off Uncle's cap.

"If I could reach your hat, I'd eat it too."

This is my attempt at a self-portrait -- our awesome selves.

No, no. THIS is us.

And Monday, my handsome Hub took me out to dinner in old downtown,

where he made faces at my iPod camera and said,

"If you take my picture again..."

I am shouting from rooftops

I don't understand why people worry about getting older. Why is age such a secret? Granted, I have a hard time believing I am 28 years old already, but it does not embarrass me to admit my age. In fact, I want to shout it from the rooftops.

I HAVE LIVED 28 YEARS ON THIS EARTH.

28 YEARS OF LIFE EXPERIENCE. HALLELUJAH!

TAKE THAT, TEENAGERS!

Okay, maybe I don't want to shout it from the rooftops, but I'll say it here on my blog. The point is that age is awesome. Age is wisdom. Some people don't get to live as long as I have lived. It's a blessing to have been here all these years. And so, I celebrate.

Mom made a beautiful birthday breakfast for me this morning -- yogurt with granola, a bagel with strawberry cream cheese, clementines, and hot tea. I felt rather spoiled. It was a great beginning to my rainy birthday.

Speaking of rain, it rains or snows or sleets 99% of all years on March 8. I've been saying this all my life and I think people are finally realizing that it's true. When Hub called this morning to sing Happy Birthday to me I said, "Didn't I tell you? It's raining, isn't it?"

He agreed, "Yes, you say it every year and, yes, it's raining."

But I don't mind the rain today.

His version of the birthday song went something like this:

"Happy Birthday to you 

You live in a... shoe?

Wait. There's a childhood version that goes something like...

umm... I don't remember... maybe...

You look like a donkey... er?

And you smell like one too!"

I know what you're thinking. Lucky Erin. What more could a girl want?

Well, you're right. I am lucky and I love him a little more every day.

This afternoon I had lunch at the Bistro with Sis. It has been a while since we had lunch together, just the two of us. We griped about our jobs and our husbands' jobs and our lack of time and funds, etc. Then we remembered our blessings, shared a huge piece of chocolate cake, and talked about diets and exercise. Conversations with my sister are never dull.

Tonight Dad is going to rent Secretariat, which I have not yet seen, and we're going to eat yummy foods and talk too much while we watch the movie. I have to admit that my parents have spoiled me quite a bit since I've been living with them. Although I'd give anything to be with Hub and Lakota again, I am definitely going to miss my parents when I leave.

And did you know it is not just my birthday? Today also marks the 28th anniversary of my parents' parenthood. Last year I wrote a letter to them on my (old) blog so I'm going to continue that tradition this year.

Dear Dad & Mom,

You are amazing people. You've done the impossible by raising perfect children. *ding-sparkle-sparkle*

No. Let me rephrase that.

You've done an amazing job in raising a good family; children who are rooted and well-rounded and creative and smart. You put your hearts and souls into raising us and it shows. You set your dreams aside to raise us well, to put us first, and to help us accomplish our goals. You taught us things that no one else {ever} could have taught us. You loved us like only you could love us.

We may not be mathematicians or chemists or inventors of the next light bulb, but we will change the world in our own ways because of you. We will bring goodness and kindness to everyone we meet. We will give back and do our parts to make this a better place for our children.

Every day I think of you and I am grateful to have you in my life. I am grateful that God made you my parents. I think it unfair that parents generally pass away before their children because I can't imagine a world without you. I hope you live long enough that we can go to Heaven together.

Happy 28th Anniversary of your parenthood.

Love,
Your first-born

Links:

Today in History

Something about Pisces

This movie earns two thumbs down

I never write movie reviews, but we watched a movie this weekend that definitely deserves some attention; negative attention, that is. Between the four of us, our vote was unanimous. The movie was a total waste of precious time that we will never get back.

Hub and I spent the weekend with my parents. We had some goals to accomplish in my hometown so, while we were staying with family, we decided to rent a movie. We rarely rent or watch movies anymore because we're so busy with other things, but, when we realized we had some free time, we made a trip to the video store.

Being somewhat out of the loop when it comes to recent movie releases, we grabbed The Rum Diary thinking it would be funny and dramatic. I'll admit I giggled a time or two, but overall the humor was rather lacking and it was fairly boring. The entire film was based around drinking and drugs and sex. Too much sex. I don't mind a little drunken humor occasionally and nearly all women appreciate some passion, but this movie took it to another level. The writers spent so much time on disconnected details that the plot of the story -- a journalist trying to write about a dishonest scheme happening on the islands of Puerto Rico -- was often forgotten or brushed aside to dwell on unimportant side-stories. It was tedious.

One scene, for example, places two of the main characters, Paul Kemp and Sala, in their apartment feeling a major drug high that was dizzying and disgusting to watch. The scene lasted entirely too long and was soon followed by the girl, Chenault, reappearing in the story, which was followed by a sex scene. Just as the sex scene (one of many) began, we turned off the movie and went to bed feeling disappointed that we wasted $3 and nearly two hours.

My dad said, "Not one of Johnny Depps greatest roles, eh?"

I couldn't have agreed more. Although it is extremely difficult to dislike Depp in any film, the drunken character of Jack Sparrow was far more attractive and captivating than the drunken Paul Kemp. I was not impressed. Likewise, I don't know anything about Bruce Robinson, the director, but I hope this isn't considered one of his best films. After watching The Rum Diary, I'm not excited to watch any more films by Robinson. Ever.

It will all be okay

when everything is up in the air
when today always seems a little more difficult than yesterday
when tomorrow makes you nervous
and excited
but mostly nervous
when coffee isn't enough anymore
when weekends are just as busy as weekdays
when there are things you want to do and things you need to do
but only some things that are actually worth doing
and it's hard to know the difference
when you realize there's nothing you can do but wait
wait for a yes
wait for a no
wait for nothing
wait to try again tomorrow

when you wake up next to your best friend
and realize it will all be okay
no matter what