I've decided there are Five Fundamental F's in my life:
1. Friends/Family--Some people have wonderfully close and supportive families, some have the same things in their group of friends. I'm incredibly lucky to have both.
2. Fiction--I love my life and the real world, but Fiction and the imagination are honestly just as important. There's no greater/worse feeling than when you finish a really really great book and you are sad you are leaving that world and the characters, your new friends, behind.
3. Fitness--kind of a big part of what I do.
4. Four-legged friends--I love dogs. I need a dog.
5. Food--I enjoy eating and I am not a food snob. I love food from fancy restaurants, I love to cook, I love the food truck. I also don't get those people who aren't dessert people. It's dessert. Sometimes it's the greatest part of my day--judge me.

      I know I've written about this before, but one time, my grandpa accidentally ate wood because he thought it was chocolate. It was at Christmastime and he had been bringing in wood for the fire and there was a chip stuck to his sweater. When we sat down to eat dinner the wood chip must have fallen off by his plate. Eventually he saw it and tried to eat it because he thought it was a piece of chocolate.

      Today, I made a salad and while shredding the lettuce, I thought a piece missed my bowl (it was a very, very small piece) and so I went to just eat it. It was definitely paper. Instead of being an intelligent individual and taking said chewed on scrape of paper to the trash, I stuck it to the side of my bowl so that I could throw it away when I took my dishes to the sink. Definitely mistook it for a piece of lettuce and tried to eat it a second time.

I just found this from November. Mostly I just wanted the world to see that picture.

Today in yoga my instructor asked us to think about one thing we were thankful for during our initial "bring your focus to your practice" part. This being the last day I get to do yoga before my surgery, I thought about how I was thankful for yoga. Then I kind of got on a whole kick of things I was thankful for and was thinking through the whole practice so that kind of took me out of the whole "clear your mind and just be in the moment while you practice" but I thought it'd be fun to do a mental free write about things I'm thankful for and see where it took me. This what happened more or less:

I'm thankful for yoga and a yoga instructor who says "holla at me." I'm thankful for the sound when people laugh when they are upside down in downward facing dog. I'm thankful for doing yoga with all retired people--no judgement, never judgement. I'm thankful I'm good a suspending judgement. That's probably why I'm good at my job. God, I love my job. I'm pretty good at my job too, let's be real here. I should do a sexy and I know it campaign. Matt is always talking about how we need to do infomercials on our classes. We should do a music video for Pinnacle Club. I can see all of my members rocking it out. No dancing. Never dancing.

I am thankful for dancing though. My life would be better if I could dance. That's kind of crappy to think. I have a pretty great life. There are worse things to be than rthymically challenged. I'm thankful I'm not challenged for real. Remember in grade school when I went to smart kid classes that they called challenge classes? That probably made me sound like I was in special ed. E. D. Erin Darby--Special Ed.

I'm thankful for my family even though they still call me Special Ed sometimes. Tannie will be coming to Omaha tomorrow! Oh, tomorrow, my last day to run before surgery. I'm thankful for running and thankful for Tanner even though that dumbass lost his wallet. Again. I love you, my dear, but you can be a hot mess.

Hot Mess=better than Bat Sh*t Crazy. I'm thankful for Jenny G. I can't wait to have Monday morning chat with her when I get out of yoga. Hopefully Lori will be here too by then. I guess I'll be swimming later rather than after yoga. I'm sexy and I know.... damn. I hate that song. Wiggle wiggle wiggle yay... it's so stupid. Why is it that so many songs are so stupid and yet I know all the words? Why is it that those words are taking up valuable space in my brain? Space that could be used for storing important facts. Then I'd be better at trivia. Morgan Freeman my ass.

I wonder how long Tanner will stay here. Hahahahaha I'm thankful for pictures like this: 




Sometimes I think about pictures like that and it makes me laugh to myself. That's good stuff, man--when you can laugh to yourself. I look stupid when I do it. Because I know I smile and people see it, but whatever. That's why Facebook doesn't always suck. If I need to, I can access all of my pictures so I have something to laugh at. Most other things on Facebook are just for creeping purposes. Or to judge people. You know what though? It'd be hilarious to do a stream of consciousness about all the messy Facebook posts you read every day. That'd probably be mean. Mean and jugdemental. But hilarious.

Hilarious. I miss Karla. I'm thankful for Karla and all of my aunts. And my cousins. And Snort and, really, all other games in general. Except for Apples to Apples. Worst. Game. Ever.  I can't believe I'm missing Thanksgiving. It's the most wonderful time of the year. True Festivus. 

I'm thankful for waterskiing. I'm also kind of thankful for that time Mom and I sank the old boat. I like telling that story. I can't believe they are going to put staples in my body. 

     I walked into work wearing running shorts, knee high furry snow boots, a winter coat and carrying a mug of steaming chai tea. Instead of making fun of how ridiculous I looked, trust me, it was pretty bad, everyone said I was adorable. I'm never going to be able to have a real job.

     I like to say that my parents' divorce was one of the best things to happen in my life. That's super pessimistic, I know, and sad to say, however, given the situation and what came of it, I'm very thankful it happened. I've never been bothered by my parents divorce until the last couple of weeks when I've mentioned it to people and then a conversation with a close friend yesterday really has me thinking about divorce today.
     My dad is a paramedic. When I was growing up, he worked at the fire station in my hometown and I think I had a pretty typical life. We lived across the street from my elementary school. My mom was a preschool teacher so she was always home after school. My dad worked 24 hours then had 48 off so he was home for us to walk home for lunch most days of the week. My parents taught me to read, love stories, swim, love sports, how to be kind to others, how to water ski, build sand castles, catch fireflies, how to speak with respect. They signed me up for t-ball, dance, smart kid camp, soccer and went to all of my events.
      Then my dad's job changed. He left the fire station and started working at a cement plant. He hated it, I assume. He was always crabby when he came home and my parents fought constantly. Maybe they didn't. Either way, it felt like it to me. I probably have my dad's temper. Maybe not so much anymore, but I definitely did when I was twelve and thought I knew the world. I was snotty and awful to both of my parents. Looking back I feel like I took my dad's side more often than my mom's but I had been a daddy's girl and didn't know all of what was happening.
     When I was in eighth grade, my dad took a new job working as a paramedic for a transport company in a town 2 hours from our home. He worked in Grand Island three days a week then came home to Norfolk for four. I thought that this would ease the tension in our house. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? I thought if my dad were away, then he wouldn't want to taint the times he was home with fighting. I was wrong. I started to cherish the time when my dad was away. Maybe I remember it wrong. Maybe our family didn't fight that much? I don't know.
      I do know that I walked in on my dad while he was chatting on a Single's website. It was the summer before I turned fifteen. I had to tell my mom what happened. I later, without shame, used this incident in a personal essay that won me a full ride scholarship to any college in the state of Nebraska I wanted to attend. I used the pain of having to tell my mom my dad was cheating on her to get to go to school for free. I'm I sorry? Now? No. Then? Maybe.
     I held my mom's hand while I told her. I don't remember if I cried. She cried. I think for me, not for what I told her, but because I had to tell her. She talked to my dad. He lied to my face and told me he would never cheat. A few weeks later a woman from Grand Island call my mom and said she'd been seeing my dad. Maybe my mom already suspected things when I told her. Maybe she already knew.
      My mom filed for divorce and told me first. She called me into her room and told me we'd be OK. Mom, my brother Tanner and I would get the house. We'd be all right. She cried. I called my crazy bipolar then boyfriend to take me somewhere else.
     The next day was Monday and my dad told my little brother about the divorce five minutes before he was supposed to leave for school. Tanner was in fifth grade. I tried to make it right. I tried to put things together for my brother, but I hated my dad at that moment. Why did he do this to us? Why did he do this to Tanner minutes before school started for the day.
     My friends who had divorced parents said having divorced parents was so cool because you had two of everything. I felt like my dad disappeared on us. He went from being my hero to someone I saw once a month to go out to eat. He missed my entire high school career and he lived in the same town as me. I had one of everything minus one dad.
     I had a job and kept working. I paid for all my clothes and when I got a car, gas, and anything I wanted to do as far as hanging with friends. I didn't think we were poor, but we qualified for reduced school lunch. My dad was supposed to take us every other weekend. He didn't. Before considering how crappy that was of him to not spend time with us, I was mad that those were days he should've been paying to take care of us that my mom shouldn't have had to, but of course she did because she is our parent. I don't think Tanner or I would've gone to stay with my dad, but I'll never know. Why didn't he want us? It was, like, four days a month.
     Soon after the divorce, my closest girlfriends started drinking. I made new ones. The first months after my parents' divorce I was awful. Honestly horrid. I was worst version I can ever imagine of myself. After talking with my friend today, I wonder if it was because I was trying to get my dad to notice me. I was dating a nutcase. My mom was worried this kid was going to beat the crap out of me. Why didn't my dad come out like all the embarrassing dads on TV and scare this dbag away? Why didn't my dad want to protect me? Where the heck was he even? Today I wish I'd had the stereotypical dad who threatened boys with a shotgun on the porch. My dad didn't say boo to this idiot.
     I shot hoops with my brother. I beat up one of his friends for being mean to him. I eventually found the self confidence to ditch the loser boyfriend--the beginnings of daddy issues maybe made that linger longer than it would have if I'd been more stable. He had cheated on me. I kept telling myself that if my mom was brave enough to get away from that, then so could I. I thought I loved him. It was hard. I started to hang out with boys who I thought were good role models for my brother. I went from being a stubborn, self-absorbed fifteen year old to a thirty-five year old woman in a matter of months. My mom became my best friend and I was back to the point where most girls don't get to until their mid-twenties when family is everything, just like when you are a little girl. When I turned 19 I got secondary legal custody of my brother. Tanner is the person I'm most proud of in all the world.
     When I moved to college, my dad didn't come help. He never saw my first dorm room. When I turned 19, he legally didn't have to continue to pay for things for me that had been drawn up in my parents' divorce. He tried to kick me off of his insurance. I asked why he thought he could check out of being a parent just because I turned 19. If he were still living with my mom, they'd keep me on their insurance no questions asked. I think this changed something in him. This was the year my brother started high school and my dad never missed one of Tanner's games. My dad started signing me up for running events with him and that became our thing. It didn't fix what he'd missed, but at least we had something.
     My dad's and my relationship may only center around sports now, but I'm glad we have something. I've forgiven him and I love him. I'm thankful every day for my dad. If I'm being completely honest, I have to say that I don't want him to get re-married unless it's after my mom does. While I was in high school and while Tanner was in high school, kids in our classes would tell us our dad was dating their mom. We've never met any of these women, nor has he spoken of them to us. I used to wonder who is the one who isn't important enough to meet the other? Is it us or is it her? Just today I'm realizing maybe it's because he is ashamed. Ashamed of what he did to us and afraid to confront the problem.
     I'm also ashamed. I'm ashamed I've had a hard time forgiving my father. I'm ashamed a small piece of me feels like he should ask for my forgiveness. I'm ashamed that my dad has never once questioned a decision I have made and I feel like it's because he's afraid that if he questions me, I'll shut him out completely. I don't want my dad to be afraid of me.
     Divorce possibly caused me to be in an unhealthy, rebellious relationship for too long, but also caused me to grow up much faster and become a much better person than I would have. My mom taught me to be the best person I can be every day. When adults I work with tell me that I remind them of their daughters and that they hope their daughters grow up to be like me, I hope I make my mom proud. I don't know what I think about my parents' divorce now. Given the circumstance, I wouldn't have it another way, but am I happy about it? I don't know. All this writing and rambling and really, what's done is done, it's in the past, right?
   
   

     I get really excited when I go into a public restroom and I see the seat is up because I assume this means the toilet just got cleaned. When I worked at the recreation center at the University of Nebraska at Omaha during my undergrad, my boss and I knew what times the cleaning crew cleaned the women's restrooms in the morning and in the afternoon and we always tried to get in right afterward whether we had to pee or not.
     This being said, as excited as I get when I walk into a stall with the toilet seat up, I never fail to turn around to shut and lock the door, thus, turn my back to the toilet, and sometime in those few seconds, I forget that the seat is up and proceed to almost fall in, ruining any excitement of getting a clean seat.
     #firstworldproblems

Here is an excerpt from the novel I am working on about Jaisa, a high school senior hoping to find out who she is after her boyfriend breaks up with her. Jaisa is a runner and I've posted a few other excerpts from her story in previous months. This part is fun for me because it gives a landscape of Nebraska. I'm from a small town in Nebraska and when my city friends go home to the lake with me, I think it's fun giving them these little tours of our state. In the passage below, Jasia is talking to her friend Lydia while her friend Cooper drives the girls to his brother's college cross country meet. The first line is Jaisa talking to Cooper about their Physics teacher.   

          “Remember when he asked that joke about Heisenberg’s wife? I could’ve died,” I say. “Lydia listen to this joke Mr. Miller said in class on Thursday. ‘Why was Heisenberg’s wife unsatisfied? When he had the time he didn’t have the energy and when he had the position he didn’t have the momentum.’ Haha!”

            She isn’t laughing.

            “Come on,” I say. “It’s a dirty joke. You don’t even have to know Physics or who Heisenberg is to get it.”

            “Oh, I get it,” she says, staring out the window of the backseat.

            Oh, well, I think. That’s all the conversation we got out of her the rest of the ride. Which is fine.

            “That field is soybeans,” I say to Cooper pointing out the window to the field on our right.

            “Ha! Sweet. The Nebraska girl is going to teach me the countryside.” He glances over and grins at me really quickly before turning back to the highway in front of us.

            “That’s a feedlot of cattle that are being fattened up to be butchered,” I continue, pointing out his window this time.

            “That’s gruesome.”

            “It’s true. Nebraska is known for its beef.”

            “Love me some steak.”

            “Those animals just hang out there in that feedlot, in that pen, until they weigh a certain amount and then they are killed for your steak.”

            “Jaisa, quit being morbid,” Lydia pipes up from the backseat.

            “Word,” Cooper agrees.

            “Seriously though. What if your life purpose were to sit in the dirt and eat unnatural crap to make you fat, rather than the grass you would naturally eat, waiting to die?”

            “I take it you don’t eat cows,” Cooper says.

            “No. We went to the stockyard when I was in kindergarten. Haven’t eaten any mammals since.”

            “That’s traumatic for a five year old.”

            “Right? It really annoyed my mom, but my dad grew up on a farm outside of town and he did 4-H and stuff and he hated seeing the animals he loved being shipped to market. He doesn’t eat red meat, just poultry and fish.” I frown. “There must be something less sympathetic about birds. He actually is a veterinarian but he’s going to Forrester now online to get his MBA so he can open his own practice. That’s a corn field.” I point out the windshield to the left. Cornfields are pretty obvious probably. He probably didn’t need that one. I don’t know why I’m telling him all of this stupid stuff. “In Northeast Nebraska we mostly grow soybeans and corn.” I pause. This is so dumb. Then he looks at me, waiting for me to continue the Nebraska lesson. “So if the plants are short, it’s soybeans, if they’re tall it’s corn. If you’re way out in Western Nebraska, there are wheat and alfalfa and sunflower fields. There are also different types of corn but I’ve no idea how you tell that. There are other things I’m missing. I don’t know a whole lot.”

            “Huh. Runner, Physics nerd and a farmer. You just keep getting more and more interesting, Jaisa Jameson,” he says. I expect to see mocking in his eyes when he looks my way this time, but I don’t. He looks…interested? Maybe he has some weird fascination with crops. I’ll have to take him running on the country roads on Monday. No, wait; on Monday Colin won’t be there so Lydia will run with us. I’ll take him Tuesday.

###

Well, holy cats. It's been a long time since I blogged. I was busy hating myself and locking myself in my apartment to study for exams. I passed!!! In this time I had no social life nor did I do very much writing. I pretty much sucked at all things other than working, studying and not napping--hurray for my new love affair with chai tea.

February is over. Keeping with my New Year's Resolution I:

Week 1: On a freak occurrence that I got to get out of my apartment (I'd possibly given up on my studying at this point and thrown cares to the wind for one night), my friend Kim and I went out downtown with the intention of going dancing. Instead, we planted our butts in the same bar stools for 5 hours and talked to man old enough to be our father. This is not the new thing I did this month as hanging out with old dudes seems to be our thing. The bartender was playing the greatest mix of music of all time. This may have influenced what happened next. We told John, the old guy, about my New Year's resolution and he started making a list of things for me to do: sky diving, bungee jumping, wild things. I told him I was mostly just trying to go out of my comfort zone more often. Kim said I should talk to the bartender. John said I should give him my phone number. It was all a mess and terrifying. But I did it. I wrote my stupid phone number on a stupid napkin and slid it across the counter. He didn't call--I'm not surprised--he probably thought I was nuts. But I did it. This is lame but I felt so brave!
Additionally this week, I started playing volleyball with friends in Omaha's Gay/Lesbian/Transgender/Bisexual and FRIENDs (friend right here! me!) league. So much fun! The best competition of volleyball I've seen since high school. We aren't that great, but we're definitely the best dressed and have the most fun--we swing dance between sets and need to have an hour long high five practice because we suck at them.

Week 2: Suck it, B*tches I passed my tests. I skipped my Valentine's Day date with my favorite burrito van to stay home and study the night before and it was so worth it because I am dunzo with that test. Bam. I rock. It may have been the lucky underwear, it may have been my skills. Either way, it's over. Caput.

Week 3: Lackluster compared to weeks 1 and 2. I went out in West Omaha--I was quite out of my element. I survived it, I guess. I also tried a new restaurant: J Coco's. Delicious. And I went to Lincoln, to the Devaney Center wearing, not red, but black and gold to watch, not the Huskers, but the Iowa Hawkeyes. I was afraid either A: Hell would freeze over or B: I'd be struck by lightning. Neither occurred so the universe must have accepted my need to support my family over my state.

Week 4: I killed another fish--not new I know, just updating you. I got tons of people from all of my workout classes to go out for manicures, martinis, pizza and camaraderie and played shuffle board for the first time. I also went to this sweet restaurant in Lincoln with my brother. If you can't tell Tanner and I are related by looking at us, you can definitely tell by our obsession with hole-in-the-wall-eateries.