What I've learned from men

This may be considered offensive by some, or not.  My intention is not to offend anyone.  My intention is to simply state what I have learned from men throughout my life.  WARNING!  Much of what I learned is not very pleasant nor acceptable, in most vanilla settings.  This is my process of dealing with things in my life.  I share my process in the hope that it might possibly help another human being who is struggling with something in their life.  Here we go.

My father was most likely bi-polar and psychotic for most of his life.  He's still alive, but we have no relationship.  I've tried many times to develop a relationship with him, but each time I get kicked in the face for trying.  So, now, I don't try any more.  When I was almost four years old I saw my father hit my mother, bloodying her lip.  I was frightened and at the same time I was enraged that he would hit my mother.  So I jumped on his leg and started biting him to make him stop.  He grabbed me by my arm, shoved me into his duffle bag, he was in the Air Force, and tied it shut, then set the duffle bag (with me inside it) on the couch.  The bag was very smelly and I could see through the small ventilation holes (grommets) in the bag.  I was screaming the entire time.  He finally left the house.  I'm sure my mother rescued me from the duffle bag, but I really don't remember what happened afterwards.  I learned from my father that men hit women; make them bleed; and that a small child (like me) would be treated like dirty laundry when they interfered.

Not long after that incident, I was playing with my puppy, Bubbles in the yard.  Bubbles was tied to a tree with a chain.  I was sitting near the tree playing.  Somehow Bubbles had run around the tree, and me, enough times that I was entangled with her chain and couldn't get free.  I guess I cried out loud.  My father went nuts, freed me from the chain and that night he took my mother and I and my puppy on a drive outside of town.  He stopped at some point, took the puppy from me and threw her in the ditch and we drove back home.  I was hysterical, but it didn't matter to him.  To everyone's surprise, a few days later, Bubbles found her way back to our house.  I was thrilled!  My father was livid.  This time he took Bubbles, by himself, in the car and I never saw her again.  I learned from my father that men may rescue you but they will take away anything you love or care about.

One winter, when I was almost 5 years old, my father was playing with me in the snow.  He decided to make an igloo for me.  So he used a shoe box to form bricks of snow and built a very cool igloo.  Then he told me to get inside it, so I did.  Then he proceeded to close up the opening so that I was completely enclosed with no way out of the igloo.  That's all I remember.  Obviously I got out of the igloo, at some point, but my memory of that is gone.  I learned from my father that men don't play fair.

I was 5 1/2 years old when my brother was born and things got worse.  My baby brother would often cry when my mother put him in his crib.  My father took off his belt and hit him with it while he lay in his crib, my brother was unable to sit up or walk, a helpless baby.  Why my mother didn't get a skillet and crack his skull open with it, I have no idea.  At the dinner table, my brother sitting in a high chair, me sitting on a book in a chair so I could reach the table to eat dinner, my father would often scream at my mother, throwing whatever was close at hand at her.  Nothing was ever good enough for him.  Once it was a Corning ware bowl.  Funny thing was that the bowl didn't break.  Instead, it bounced and the contents of the bowl went right into my father's face, which resulted in plates and glasses also getting thrown everywhere.  The plates and glasses didn't bounce.  I learned from my father that babies are no better than animals in a cage and that Corning ware will bounce if you throw it on the floor.  I also learned to hate dinner time at the table.

When I was about 8, my father told me that he was going away and would never come back.  He said he loved me, but that he didn't love my mother.  I cried and couldn't understand why he would leave us.  Then I learned why.  While he was stationed in Japan he had an affair with another woman and he was leaving my mother, and my brother and I, to be with her.  What this meant to me was no more tantrums, dish throwing dinners, no more hitting my mother or my brother, no more screaming and yelling.  That year my mother mailed my father my school pictures, because she knew it was the right thing to do, right?  The pictures were mailed back to us, but they were shredded into a million pieces.  I remember crying because that felt very personal, like he hated me.  I learned from my father that men only care about themselves and what they want.  They do not care about how anyone else feels, even their own children.

It's too bad I didn't learn these things better or remember them.  Maybe I would have saved myself from the heartache of being beat up by my first husband.  That marriage lasted a whole 4 months of hell.  What was I thinking?  Maybe I would have saved myself from marrying an alcoholic that had no idea how to re-adjust his priorities when our daughter was born.  Maybe I would have saved myself from the heartache of a lying, cheating husband (also an alcoholic) who thought it would be just fine for him to have an affair with our young daughter's boyfriend's mother, who was also married.  Two families ended up divorced so he could be with her.  It killed me to watch him manipulate my younger daughter, using her to facilitate his illicit affair.  Then, just to rub salt into the wound, even though I had initially purchased the house we lived in, he still got half of it in the divorce.  I learned to never ever again get involved with an alcoholic.  I also learned men lie and cheat and they don't care who gets hurt, even their own children.

I ventured into one more relationship after that.  It lasted for four years but ended up with him lying and cheating, too.

So I give up.  It's just not worth the heartache and the incredible amount of emotional energy to recover from that kind of treatment.  I'd rather be alone than to ever have to deal with that again.  My daughters jokingly say "Mom, your picker's broken."  Maybe it is.  Or maybe there are so few good moral men left in this world that the odds are simply against finding a good honest man.  I don't feel sorry for myself.  I feel relieved that I can focus on being a good mother and friend to my adult daughters and their friends, enjoy being grandma to my grand kids, and make good friends along the way without having to worry about a significant others' issues.  I've heard it said that when you "stop looking" is when you find that "right person."  Well, I've stopped looking.  If that right person dares show his face now, too bad.  I'm done.  Like I said, I should have remembered what I learned from my father.

Don't take this as me thinking all men are horrible lying cheaters.  I don't.  I simply believe that there are very few moral men or women left on this planet.  If you're a woman and you happen to have one of those few moral men as your partner or husband, count your lucky stars and never take that for granted.

Recognizing Perfection

I recently attended a holiday soiree for an organization I volunteer for.  The kind of event where you walk into the room knowing almost everyone.  Some being people you truly enjoy, some barely acquaintances, and others you'd be just fine not seeing at all.  Surely an opportunity for growth must exist in such settings.  And, sometimes, you happen to be in just the right place, at just the right time, and have just the right number on your ticket for the gift exchange.  This was just that kind of evening.  I didn't know it, but it was going to be a perfect night.

I had made "peace" with a past lover and finally felt comfortable sharing space with him after 3+ years.  I invited a good girlfriend to be my "date" and enjoy the nice dinner and festivities with me.  I brought a "not too terrible" gift for the mystery gift exchange and remembered how much fun the gift exchange had been at last year's event.  I had drawn the #1 ticket so I got to make the last gift exchange of that night and took home a 2010 Buddy Guy guitar pick tastefully enclosed in a ring box.

The dinner was excellent, even though it took over and hour to be served after we ordered our food.  Bought a pitcher of Porter and told my old friend he owed me $8 for half of it, which he readily forked over.  We both enjoy the dark beers, so I knew he wouldn't put up much of a fuss.

The gift exchange began as we were being served dessert.  Several  fun gifts were opened.  My "date" ended up with a very classy pair of 420 friendly sunglasses, which looked positively stunning on her.  A lucky guest got the 2011 Buddy Guy pick.  Another friend got a very cute knit hat with little ears on it.  My "date" had brought a gag gift.  It was so much fun to see the folks who got her gift having so much fun with it.  It was a big old stick on mustache and a drinking straw that looks like an elephant's truck.  I ended up with a glass figurine.  A life sized figurine of a squirrel, a girl squirrel with long eyelashes and all.  It was the perfect thing for me to get that night.

Why?

Because my friend Laurie is a card-carrying 'friend of the squirrels.'  She takes pictures of them, she feeds them, she names them.  She is the squirrel lady of Eugene.  Not that she's nuts or anything, so don't go there.  ;-)  So my "date" and I drove straight to Laurie's house after the party and I bestowed the squirrel to her as my Christmas gift to her.  She LOVED it.  She plans to make cute little seasonal costumes to dress it up in.  I can't wait to see what she does for New Year's Eve!

The obvious thing I learned was this: we are not in charge, no matter how much we would like to think we are.  We simply are not in charge.  However, in spite of that, perfection does happen.  I believe our job is to learn how to recognize that perfection and then act accordingly.  So, keep your eyes, ears, and hearts alert so that the next time perfection happens within your vicinity, you can recognize it and do the next right thing.

Taking Chances

Change brings us many opportunities. I'm being "nice" when I say this and consciously choosing to accept that the changes active in my life right now are opportunities rather than the pains-in-the-butt that they often feel like.

I was able to get enough work in October to make November happen. Now I am hoping that I can earn enough in November to make December happen...rinse & repeat. I am grateful for the abiding peace that says "things will be okay" which surrounds me each day. I do believe God has a purpose for my life and will guide me to the place I need to be in order to apply the things I've learned while I was earning my degree these past 2 1/2 years.

Provision has presented itself in several forms lately. I was approved for free health care through Volunteers In Medicine. They are a wonderful organization serving a significant number of people who would be without health care without their help. Since my income is sparse for now, I was able to get help for food with Oregon Trail. Grateful barely comes close to describing how I feel about these two sources of help right now. My friends have supported me with their love, friendship and humor. My Mom even helped me pay my car insurance last month, bless her. I didn't ask for help, she just decided to send me some money and it was exactly what I needed right when I needed it.

I now have a housemate who shares the rent and half of the utilities. That's been going fine so far. Makes all the difference with the financial landscape being a bit bleak right now.

I would hope that there is something useful, enjoyable and valuable that I will eventually find for work. With so many people looking for a job, it's an employer's market and they appear to be taking advantage of that, at least from what I can tell right now. It appears that if you can find a job making $10/hour you're doing really well. Wow. That's more than a third less than I was making before I was laid off in December of '08. Ouch. I was making more than $10/hr over 30 years ago! Wow.

My entrepreneurial spirit is saying "GO FOR IT!" and work for myself. My living expenses don't require a large amount of money to get by on, but school loans will eventually need to get paid back. I can start with earning enough to 'get by' and work towards building a clientele base that will hire me to do projects for them and hopefully recommend me to their associates and friends in the future. Do I pass up the torturous process of daily scouring through job postings and filling out numerous applications and gear up to start marketing myself and my multimedia skills instead? I'll still look at the postings, but I'm not going to keep applying for every job. Chances. Taking a chance has to be better than waiting for a temp service to call and offer a mediocre temp job at minimum wage plus a $1 or so.

The plan, at least for now, is to spend next week adding content and information to my website and I'll begin working on the two portfolio projects that I had to put on the back burner when I started working for the temp agency in early October. I'll continue networking with people who already know and trust me so they'll know what I'm doing and can feel comfortable recommending me.

Scary? You think? YES! But it feels like I just have to do it this way right now. I know I'd regret not having given it a real shot right now while it seems like the only reasonable thing for me to be doing.

Funny how the words Change and Chance are different by only one little letter, huh?

The VOID

When something goes wrong in my life, or not as expected, my usual response is to internalize it and accept full responsibility for whatever went wrong, whether it had anything to do with me or not. Don't ask me why. I couldn't give you an answer that would make any sense. Does anyone else do this? I just automatically flip the switch to "it's all my fault" and start that whole worthless process that validates I'm not worth any one's time or trouble. It's not pretty. I'm still learning how to resist the urge to flip that switch.

On the flip side, when something perfect and wonderful happens, some of us don't find ourselves rushing up the aisle to claim a prize for doing something right or incredible. Instead, we might be pinching ourselves just to make sure we are awake and not dreaming. Daring to fully breathe, in case we might accidentally undo whatever created that moment of sublime perfection. Those are moments that don't happen very often in my life...at least not so far. And I'll admit it's pretty devastating when they do and then quickly go awry. Thus, I write.

There's this invisible part of our lives where we can't see if our own actions, words, or choices were responsible for putting something in motion or if it was someone else's input. The VOID. The unknown. The unseen. That seems to be the source of most of our frustrations. If we messed up somehow, most of us want to know how -- so we can be accountable for it, or at least have an opportunity to LEARN from it. The VOID steals that away from us. Talk about not playing fair... It really sucks.

It's like that Halloween gag you might have seen when you were a kid. You know, where you put your hand inside a box, but you can't see what's inside the box. All you can do is "feel" what's inside it. Whatever your imagination tells you quickly becomes what you are feeling inside that box. It is usually wrong, but it feels very real. Our imagination takes over where our ability to 'see' stops. That's when peeled grapes in a bowl of syrup suddenly might feel like a bowl of bloody eyeballs; cooked spaghetti in oil might feel like worms in slime, and so on. They're just grapes and spaghetti, but our imagination turns them into something else and we "react" to the 'something else' because that's what our imagination tells us. If we could first see what it was in that box, the question might be why we would ever consider putting our hand in that box in the first place.

In relationships we have 180 degrees of visibility, or perception...our own. The other 180 degrees belongs to the other person in the relationship. The VOID. We don't have an opportunity to put another person's heart and mind on in order to 'see and feel' things the way they do in order to better understand them. Nor do they get to try our heart or mind on. So, a relationship is sort of like that Halloween gag box. Stick your hand in, do the best you can to imagine what you're feeling inside that box, and chances are you'll often be wrong unless your partner communicates clearly and honestly. Feelings change. Old behaviors and fears arise and the retreat signal sometimes goes out loud and clear. Very clear for the person retreating, but not so much for the other person standing there with their hand still in this box (the presumed relationship) trying to figure things out. At least until they're just standing there with their hand in this box all by themselves. Well, that feels pretty stupid huh.

Here's a novel thought...wouldn't it be wonderful if people would just say out loud how they feel, be brave enough to share their fears with someone they care for, allowing a safe space to figure things out together. How silly of me to think it could be that simple, huh? I'm not saying it would feel all cozy and comfortable all the time. It would likely be anything but that. But, like I said, feelings change. I guess there are conditions that would prohibit this type of process. If someone were incapable of being honest with themselves or others, that would definitely be a fail. If anyone had ulterior motives to use knowledge of another person's vulnerabilities, that would be a fail. If a person could not, would not hear another person's feelings because they couldn't relax the death grip they had on their own feelings (their list) long enough to do so, that would likely be a fail. So, this isn't looking very good, huh? Why not? What's the ultimate risk versus the possible reward?

You want a list? Here's mine:

• multiple abandonment episodes as a child
  
• verbal abuse from parents and spouses
  
• mental abuse from parents and spouses
  
• lied to by parents and spouses
  
• told I was not 'good enough' as a child
  
• theft by parents and spouses
  
• intimate knowledge used against me by a spouse
  
• false accusations by a spouse
  
• alcoholic spouses
• drug addicted spouse
• trust repeatedly broken by parents and spouses
  
• infidelity by a spouse
  
• fear for my life because of a spouse
  

The point is, everyone has a freaking 'list.' Some lists are similar, some are long, some are short, some are very different. But everyone has a list. In order to capture some semblance of a healthy life, one has to deal with their 'list' or their list will drive their life and they'll find themselves a willing and perpetual victim of their list. It's just a stinking list. Why allow it to have so much power over us and rob us of being happy, loving individuals? Oh, because it's hard, because it's painful, because I'm used to it, because, because, because. Excuses! Bullshit! Not denying the pain of the process, but come on. Really?

I'll tell you what's hard. What's hard is having a relative or a friend die of cancer. Or having your child die or seeing someone else's child die. Or seeing an aging parent who no longer has any idea who their children are. Or seeing a family now homeless because the parents were unable to find a job and they lost everything. Or seeing a friend lose the love of her life for the past 50 years. Or learning a close friend has a terminal illness. Or suffering a stroke and losing the ability to function in life. Those are just some of the truly hard things. Talking about and working out our feelings and fears doesn't hold a candle to any one of those things. So what's the big deal?

What's the real risk in having your hand in the Halloween box in the first place? Feeling something that feels like bloody eyeballs, and saying to the person who knows what's in the box, "Is this bloody eyeballs?" And then hearing the person tell you, "No, that's just peeled grapes in syrup." Or, perhaps, "Yes! That's bloody eyeballs!" Is it the risk of simply being wrong or right? Is that a 'do or die' kind of thing or is it simply an opportunity to re-adjust and self-correct, learn, and grow? The risk itself is invisible even though it may manifest in a real way causing us to act out. The VOID.

I don't know all the answers. I sure do have a lot of questions, though. Will I ever learn the answer to those questions? Maybe I'll learn the answer to some of them. Maybe none of them. Will I stop bothering to try to learn the answer? I could stop caring enough to try, I could do that. But I don't want to. If I did that, if I stopped caring enough to even try, there wouldn't be much left to living, would there?

But life...it's so incredible. It takes my breath away one moment and reveals the most lovely things to me the next...if I'm paying attention. I'll choose life any day. Some days are harder than others to make that choice, but I'll still make it. I'll continue to dream of a day when my heart is full of love shared. I'll continue to write. It's just my process. I'll continue to share what I write because I cannot be the only person on this planet to experience the feelings and struggles I have. I know others might share them, too.

If sharing my process can help one other person, it's worth the raw exposure to my friends about who I am. I choose to be transparent. You won't have to ask me, "What's in your box, Rege?" You'll always be able to see it by how I live my life, each time you look me in the eye, each time you share space with me. You'll always know where you stand with me. I'll always be honest with you. You may not agree with me, or like everything I say, but I'll still say how I feel and what I believe you need to hear. I may not always find a receptive audience by choosing to live this way, but that's okay with me. I'll still be here and I'll still be sharing and loving the only way I know how.

So, be brave. Share your feelings. Be open. Love each other.

Blessings on your head,
Rege

The Uninvited Guest

You're right. It's been a while since I updated my blog. My reason? I guess I'm just not in charge...really.

I've found myself in a "growth period" these past few months. Do you know what those are like? At first they feel pretty rough - no, make that pretty CRAZY. Things don't make sense...at first. I've been struggling with this for a while now. Change is like that I guess. It's an essential element for growth, but it sure isn't graceful. It's awkward, it's clumsy, like a baby learning to walk. Bumping into things, falling down, having to get back up, some days having to find the desire to even get back up. It's anything but graceful. Feels like you're in a boxing match with an invisible opponent that is trying to teach you something, whether you want to learn it or not. Yes, I giggled here and you can, too.

I guess one of the things you don't get to know up front is what this growth is about and where it will take you - and WHY NOW? Does it make you feel stronger? Does it make you feel like you could faint at the drop of a feather? Yes, and yes. Is it predictable? Not even. I would describe it as feeling like you're one of those marionette puppets being moved about by "someone" above holding the strings connected to your hands, legs, head, and your heart. Yes, even your heart! And it seems that the more I resist the direction those strings are pulling and jerking me towards, the more painful and ungraceful I get. To say I feel bruised and battered is an understatement at this point. When you fight it long enough, hard enough, you eventually get tired. You get to the point where you finally have to consider that you've been missing the fact that someone, or something, is trying to get your attention. Really?

Time out.

How does one adjust from thinking you know what you're doing to submitting to the possibility that perhaps you don't know what you're doing at all; and furthermore, it's sheer arrogance to think you have control of anything, other that your willingness to give in, or your resistance, to this change. This unseen puppeteer has seemingly taken over your world (without invitation or your permission) in order to nudge you towards your next level of "scheduled" growth. That's all you have control over, you know. Fight it or go with it.

I've been fighting it for a while now. I admit it. It's not like "growth" should be considered a bad thing. Right? It's just the process that feels like heck. It's like a perpetual bad hair day that you cannot do anything about. You can't hide it. You can't ignore it. It slaps you around hard when you least expect it. It will even knock you flat on your ass...usually when you're resistance is quite high, or so you think. It will eventually convince you that you have to finally stop and just look around, see where you really are, and look for something you can recognize to hold on to. The process is not pretty. And it just gets worse the more you resist it. Trust me on that.

If I were to consider growth's biggest challenge, I would guess the hardest part is when it's first trying to get your attention. "Hey there, umm, I've got orders here to start your next growth process, okay? You have now been served. Have a nice day." No, it's not that obvious. It's often hard to recognize what is happening, hard to say to yourself, "Oh, that looks like/feels like "growth." Maybe I should pay attention here." Instead we find it annoying and get a bit frustrated when it interrupts our "plans" or causes things to happen that we weren't expecting. I mean, who purposefully invites "change" to come and hang out for a while in order to grow. Easy to say, but much harder to do. I guess that's how Change ended up getting a bad rap. Trying to help out when no one is asking for it or wanting it. Now that's funny. Well, it was to me. Change - the uninvited guest.

So here I sit, working my process, trying to figure out what the heck I'm supposed to be learning now and which area of my life needs to have a growth adjustment. You know, if Change would just send me an email, tell me what's up, what to expect, what I need to do, and when it'll be over, I could deal with that. I really could. I guess "Change" doesn't do email. So much for clear communication.

This particular growth I find myself in right now is very personal. I believe it's about my "heart" and "faith." I think that's where faith lives...in our hearts. You know, the heart I've had locked away, hiding from past pains I felt I could have died from. Only allowing a small part of my heart to function in my relationships, always hiding it, thinking this was the only way I could survive. But was I surviving, really? For a long while I thought so. Even now I feel that fear closing around my throat, nearly cutting off my air. In hiding my heart, to try to protect it from more pain, apparently I've also been stifling my own faith. I didn't realize that until right now. Faith in myself, my abilities, my talents, in plain old me.

No wonder I've never been able to see the person that others tell me they see in me. I believe I caught a glimpse of "her" once many years ago, but I've all but forgotten what she looked like, until now. She is lovely. She has a smile for everyone. She finds subtle humor in many things. She looks at things in a little bit different way than most people. She is so gentle. She is patient. She is very playful. She offers help whenever she can. She moves in a sensual way that she is not even aware of. It is just a natural state for her. She hears more than words, she feels the feelings behind the words. She finds beauty all around her without even trying. She is creative and expressive. How could I have been so blind for so many years. What was I afraid of.

Think I'll spend some time with "her" and see if she'll stick around this time.

There is no promise for tomorrow, but you do have today

A sobering event in our community has impacted just about everyone here. A wonderful Eugene Police Officer was killed in the line of duty. From all reports, he was a wonderful human being and leaves behind a young family and many loved ones. He was also my neighbor's grandson. My neighbor, Ed. He's 86 and his health has been questionable over the past few months. I took him and his lady friend to breakfast a few weeks ago and I could see the concern in her face for him. He didn't seem to be quite the same to me, either. I've known Ed since I moved here over six years so. I'm sure this tragedy has impacted him, too. I'm waiting to go visit until things settle a little bit, but I won't wait too long.

This event impacted me, too. My internship is tied to the City of Eugene and my supervisor is the Community Relations Director, so she has been completely consumed with the arrangements for a memorial which is happening right now at Mathew Knight Arena. This stacks on top of the fact that last week her father-in-law passed away suddenly and she spent that week consumed with those arrangements and family time. I think I'll bring her some flowers next week. She's been very kind to me with my internship and I can only imagine that she's in need of at least a little TLC. I'll do what I can to let her know I care, too.

I received a call from my "estranged" father's wife about a month ago, asking me to help! Apparently it's time for them to consider moving into an assisted living facility from their own home so he can receive the kind of regular care he needs and she won't have to be separated from him in the process. How could I refuse? She told me there are no suitable facilities in Alabama, so I suggested that I look at facilities in Memphis. She said OK. This will be a very taxing effort for me. Relationship-wise, energy-wise, time-wise, all the way around. I'm doing as much research and planning as I can now, so I can hopefully find a suitable solution for them.

My dog, Poncho, is now in mid to late stage congestive heart failure. He's on 3 different medications and additional supplements. I now cook for him so he is assured of a low sodium diet. He seems to be doing better after about two weeks on the new diet & medications. Still so sad to consider the day is coming soon when a tough decision will have to be made. I won't make it alone. I know my daughters will be there with me on that. He was our family pet before the divorce and I ended up taking him with me after that. He'll be 15 years old in September, if he lives that long.

I've conceded to take a scuba diving class, because my youngest daughter is pretty much insisting I do it. She is finishing up her 2nd scuba class. Loves it. She really wants me to do something fun with her. I tried snow skiing...oh my, but I did try. I found a friend who will take the scuba lessons with me, so I'm going to register for it in the summer term. I'm sure it will be fun, but I'm just a little bit nervous.

Some days I feel like a towel that destiny just keeps shaking to see what else will fall out. Wow, that was profound. Those Rege-isms just keep coming, don't they.

I think it's time for a little self-induced TLC this weekend. Who knows about tomorrow. I just know that today I can do something and I'm trying to make each something meaningful. Some days "meaningful" means taking several naps. That's my body's way of coping with the multitudes of stress lately. I think I need to try something a little different, or a lot different. Looks like it might be a sunny weekend, finally. Perhaps I'll see if I can ride my bicycle to the bike trails tomorrow and take a nice ride.

Hoping there's a rainbow in the sky today. They make me feel good inside.

Count your blessings

It is amazing what we can endure when we're too busy to sit around and think about it for very long. Perhaps a busy mind makes a relatively distracted mind, as well.

I have completed the campus classes required for my degree. The only thing left to complete is my co-op, which consists of 6 credits = 3 credits Spring and 3 credits Summer. A 3 credit co-op boils down to 10 hours/week working at a site. I'll be working for the City of Eugene, under the supervision of the Communications Director. My core project will be designing a City Employee Recognition & Awards website, plus whatever smaller things blossom along that path. I'm truly looking forward to this opportunity and recognize it as the ultimate stage to network for a future job or develop relationships with potential clients, depending how my future career plays out this summer. I'll also continue building my Mary Kay customer base and enriching women's lives along the way.

I'll also have more time to spend with my friends and family. I asked my two daughters what they thought about a monthly "dinner with Mom" night, separately, of course. I have a small house. I think they agreed... We'll see when I send out their dinner invitations for next month.

I have a green house that is calling my name. I plan to get some vegetable starts growing next month and plant a modest garden and lovely flowers to eventually put on my table and share with neighbors.

I had communication with two local non-profits this week, one was a luncheon and the other a response to an email, about how multimedia design might serve their needs. The feedback I've received so far is very promising and continues to fuel my dreams of designing multimedia products & designs geared towards enhancing the lives of our developmentally and intellectually challenged community.




I ordered my business cards yesterday and I'll continue to work on my website so I can release the new design within a few more weeks.



Had a nice long call from a friend in Saint Louis this morning. We hadn't talked for too long a time. It was a great time laughing and scheming for a possible get together this summer.

My life is good. I am truly blessed beyond measure. It would be nice to have health insurance, but for now I'll pray for good health and personal safety.

It seemed like a good day to count my blessings. There are many more.

Blessings to you & yours,
Rege