A friend of mine challenged me, yesterday, to remember that my story hasn't been written yet. It has gotten me thinking.
Actually a lot of things have gotten me thinking.
What is my story? What is my dream?
I admit, I've been fairly myopic over the past number of years, and I know why, to some extent. Part of it was the journey I was on; part of it was because I don't trust hope, finding it a very dangerous commodity when your heart is fragile; but mostly because I don't really know what/who I want to be when I 'grow up'.
Moving to England has been a big desire for me for a while, not news to most of you, but it has, in many ways, been an excuse to remain stagnant. As a result I'm often the one who can be relied on to cover the bases, to pick up the pieces, to bring support, and sacrifice, and deep inside I've been crying "What about me? Can anyone see the me beyond what I can do?"
I'm beginning to realize that this is, in many ways, my fault. I have allowed myself to come to this place because I've forgotten how to dream. I've forgotten that there could be more to my life than a potential move.
I've really done a good job taking on other people's dreams, almost convincing myself that they're mine. I've gotten passionate about things that I long to see happen, because I need to be passionate, but none of them are things I can take ownership of. I've even gone so far as to ask my siblings "If I went back to college, what do you think I should study?"
The truth of the matter is, I could do many things well, I could have a smörgåsbord of options, however, Just because I can, doesn't mean I should.
Just because I can, doesn't mean it's mine.
What's my dream? Do I even know how to dream any more? I can't continue to appropriate others' dreams and be happy, it doesn't work that way.
I've also realized something else.
I've got to stop trying to not be a trailblazer. This is me. I think I've been joining with other people's vision because I don't want to embrace that I am to be a pioneer. I've experienced a fair amount of pain on that part of the journey so far, and so therefore, subconsciously, I've backed away from leadership of this sort because I am tired of pain.
I think I realized that running from who I am causes pain too.
It's good to have this realization, but I don't even know where to go from here. How do I start to dream again? How do I stop viewing hope as dangerous? How do I stir the waters? How do I step out as a leader again, but on my terms, on God's terms, and not as I'm expected to?
I haven't a clue, but staying here isn't an option. It's killing me.
I haven't had business cards since I've worked for my current company. They're free, but I've just never bothered to ask for them. Today I my supervisor told me he put some business cards on my desk. That's not so bad, I thought, because there have been a couple of occasions where it would have been convenient to have them. I went back to my to my desk to check them out.
(warning, the following is probably me just being overly picky, and will probably make no sense to any of you, and you'll just wonder what the big deal is. It's actually not a big deal, but it is something to blog about.)
All the information on the business card is correct except for my job title. It says I'm a "Principle Network and Systems Administrator". Administrator? I don't administrate anything. I'm an senior network engineer, I engineer things. Administrators administrate what the engineers engineer. That's like giving a senior doctor a business card that says "Principle Nurse". Not that nurses aren't important or smart, it just wouldn't be an accurate discription for what the doctor does.
I pointed the title out to my supervisor when I saw him in the hall later, and, in jest, told him my business cards demoted me. He said he'd have the company correct them, but I told him not to worry about it. I mean, I really don't care that much since I didn't ask for them to begin with. Maybe I'm weird, but I don't think I'll be handing them out to anybody though because of the title being wrong. Is that bad?
After living through the coldest wettest April on record in 100 years, and a week of damp, wet, foggy weather, it's going to be 84 and sunny here in Seattle.
Enjoy your Friday. I'll be waiting for what I hope to be a beautiful sunset.
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"But we have to wait..."
"What for?"
"For the sun to set."
At first you seemed quite surprised, and then you laughed at yourself. And you said to me, "I think I'm still at home!"
Indeed. When it's noon in the United States, the sun, as everyone knows, is setting over France. If you could fly to France in one minute, you could watch the sunset. Unfortunately, France is much too far. But on your tiny planet, all you had to do was move your chair a few feet. And you would watch the twilight whenever you wanted to...
"One day I saw the sun set forty-four times!"
And a little later you added, "You know, when you're feeling very sad, sunsets are wonderful..."
"On the day of forty-four times, were you feeling very sad?"
But the little prince didn't answer.
Refreshing! (but the music is a little too happy, like a nitrous-sucking birthday party clown)
*****
In that vein, then, it's a disappointment very little blood is drawn here. In "Renegade," at least two of the fights showcased a blood-spattered mat, gashes and general unpleasantness. "Destiny" is a more sanitized affair. Perhaps it's a symptom of being the first event only one fighter out of the undercard and main event fights becomes bloody (John-David Shackelford on the undercard). There's no Seth Kleinbeck-esque open wound on the brow. Nick Diaz's bloody face is a distant memory. But it in no way means the matches are any less brutal.
*****
EliteXC: Destiny DVD Review
Show us your gorgeous eyes.
Submitted by [Susan].
These are my "I had to wake up at 0400, and I reeeeeaaaaally need a nap" eyes.
When was the first time you got called "sir" or "ma'am", and does it still bother you?
I was only 18, for cryin' out loud. I was with my friend-girl, Cassie, and we were waiting in line outside a movie theater. It was a midnight movie, and it was a cold Atlanta night. We were talking and laughing and a little buzzed, when all at once this totally punked-out kid came walking over to us. He had punk hair, punk clothes, even the safety pin through one nostril. I was sure this kid was going to cut my arm off, steal my watch, and do God only knows what to poor Cass. Instead, he said, "Excuse me, sir? I'm sorry to bother you, but could you please tell me what time it is?"
"Um, 11:48?"
"Thank you, sir. Have a good night." He nodded to Cass. "Ma'am."
I think I'd rather he have stolen my watch. As for now, it doesn't bother me, except when I get the "sir" from juvenile delinquent-looking kids.
I was SOOOOO looking forward to Jennifer Weiner's latest Certain Girls. Well everything was zipping along as usual. Enjoying the book immensely. And WHAM! Out of no where with like 20 pages to go her husband (the best husband in the world) up and dies. It really sucked. There was no need for it because the story had already kind of tied up all the loose ends. I like happy endings - I'll admit. I didn't like this ending at all. It was such a downer. Off to find a book that won't depress me!
There are lots of things going on. Good things. Bad things. Fun things. Completely self-destructive, irresponsible things. Wonderful things. But I just don't feel like talking about any of those things. Sorry.
