Betty

One of my favorite shows in the world is Dead Like Me. I have no idea what channel it was actually on when it first came on TV, I watch it on netflix. It is hysterical, sometimes a bit sad, and always a little twisted. For those of you who have never heard of it, it is about a girl, George, who dies when she is 18 and learns that she is a grim reaper, someone who remains on earth to take other people's souls. For the first few episodes, there was another reaper named Betty. Betty had died in the 1920's (in her 20's); she had jumped off a cliff for fun into a body of water that was just not deep enough for that type of thing. Betty had told everyone that it wasn't about falling, that she loved to jump. Now me, I don't particularly like to jump or fall.

Take cliff jumping at Glenora for example. I went twice, and both times I did jump, although I barely managed to escape with having a heart attack. Most people are terrified and then elated when they finally jump. Uh uh, not me. I am semi scared before I jump, and the second my feet leave the rock all I can think is What the fuck have I done? Well, ok, I think, the second time will be better, I will get used to it. Are we seriously fucking doing this again? my brain screams after I jump for the second and third time. Adrenaline is not a horomone that I welcome, whether it is from an amusement park ride, or my car sailing backwards down the road in a snowstorm. Adrenaline is there to tell you something is WRONG and sister, I'm listening to it. Calm I was born, and calm I will stay it seems.

But I do wish that I had the Betty-quality of embracing life more. I would love to be the girl who skis on the black diamond (I was stuck in terror on the green circle last year. I really thought about walking down a few times), mountain bikes and cliff jumps with gusto (without soiling herself). I am pretty sure that I get as excited about a new book as these types of people do about bungee jumping. The eternal dork. I did discover a sport that I can do with no chance of being scared to death and that is kayaking. I even have my own kayak now and I am pretty good at speeding right along. Yup, the baddest ass kayaker on all of Keuka Lake. I am pretty sure that Betty would have walked right past the kayak to jump on the wakeboard behind the fastest boat on the lake, though.

Boring? Lazy? You decide!

This is now day 6 that I have been at home, mostly in bed. Thankfully today, there is not much pain. The oral surgeon told me yesterday that I am the poster child for why one is supposed to have their wisdom teeth removed when they are 18 and not the advanced age of 33. Today is acually the first day that I have had the idea to write in this. Any day before this, I would have just written swear words anyway.

I haven't gotten much done in the past 6 days...I dusted, did laundry and vacuumed the bedroom, but in all honesty, this is because I couldn't breathe in the room I was confined to. I did become good at ordering Greg around, and he cheerfully responded to my every request, including the last one: homemade cream of asparagus soup that he had never made before (it was fabulous). This leads me to once again wonder about myself. Wouldn't a girl of more substance been writing, drawing, sewing, something? It's not like I don't have the materials. I even have an easel. I have decided to chalk it up to being uninspired by the winter.

Home is Where the Heart Is

It is coming up on a year and a half until Greg is done with college. We have given ourselves 2 years before we look to move on to our next adventure. Well, honestly, for me it will be my first adventure, as I still live an hour from where I grew up. I have a list of places in my head that are in the frontrunning to be the place that we call home in just a short time. They are all as different as night and day. I wonder if I have an identity disorder of sorts, as I picture myself differently in every place that I have in mind to move.

In first place, obviously, is Tucson, AZ. Pros: beautiful weather, nice real estate, a wealth of Social Work jobs, laid-back vibe, tons of stuff to do outside and oddly enough, snowboarding in the winter for Greg. Cons: very hot summers, being chased by rattlesnakes and scorpions, drug gangs that favor home invasions more than in other parts of the country. Second place would be Asheville, NC. Pros: Hopping music scene, a plethora of outdoor activities, skiing and snowboarding, laid-back vibe, foodie friendly. Cons: Expensive real estate, no apparent jobs for anyone, chance that I will still have to drive in snow. Tied for 3rd: Boston, MA area/Boulder, CO area. I think these would have pretty similar pros: gorgeous surroundings, many jobs, outdoor activities all year long, the Red Sox (Boston-specific), history! (Boston-specific). Cons: Much higher cost of living.

When we plan out our lives, as much as I feel a calling to New England, I can much more easily see myself moving there in my 40's when I have the capital to live comfortably. Plus a few extra letters after my name than I have now. New England will be the place to continue to vacation in the meantime. Asheville is tempting as well, but I can simply not move anywhere that is known for not having employment, specifically Social Work employment. Tucson is a long distance away, there is no doubt about that. However, it has so much that I am looking for. Warmth. Culture. History. Ample employment. Dog-friendly!

Let me look back on this post and smile in two years when we get to where we are going.

Let's See How This Goes, Redux.

Rereading through my last posts, it is adundantly clear that I do not have what it takes to be a steady blogger. It is interesting to see where my life is a year later though. Healthy again, yay! Happy still, yay! Another year deep in my job which is a blessed thing. Still in our little apartment on the lake.

As frustrating as it is living in something like 600 square feet (in a gigantic gothic house), I have a feeling that when we are finally in a home that we will look back on this as the good old days. There is something very homey about our eclectic decorations, hallway that is in the constant state of wallpaper/painting, and comfy couch with several color pillows. Greg and I have found that we are semi-addicted to HGTV, mainly because we may be a mere 2 years (ha!) away from buying and decorating our home. I laugh at all the snooty women that walk through the $800,000 home making snide comments about the size of the master suite, color of the granite counters, etc. While I like the shows part of me cringes every time someone criticizes the amount of bathrooms while there are people that don't have actual homes to live in. Cliche, I know.

Andrew Wyeth draws in the style I feel: calm, content. Master Bedroom graces the wall of my bedroom and often echoes what is on my bed. Easterly makes me excited for an upcoming trip.

We'll See How This Goes

Sometimes it's hard for me to decide whether blogs are a window into the mind or just for the hopelessly narcissistic. Eh, either way, I do know that I do want some record of my thoughts. Journals worked in high school and college, and putting pen to paper has long been the accepted carthatic method of "getting it out." But this is different. A record of how my life is evolving, pictures and all? Sign me up.