Friday, May 29, 2009

Back to... uh... normal

I don't get why "normal" is a word. What is "normal," really?

After feeling lost since Grampa was in the hospital, then in the process of mourning his passing, I've been trying to get back to normal and I realized that I really don't know what that would be. So I've just returned to my "normal" work schedule, which is different each week, and have dived back into life. My.... "normal" life.

Which has thus far consisted of:

Having my coworker ask someone to put their digital camera away yesterday when he caught the man taking pictures. I believe people aren't really allowed to take pictures here without getting permission ahead of time, so that's why he did so. Then when I went on my hour break, a man approached me and asked if he could take my picture. I figured it was the same man from work, so I wasn't surprised and I kept walking down the busy pedestrian mall and said no. He lagged behind me and said, "Are you sure???" like maybe I was missing out on this great opportunity of having someone who I happen to know spends his free time doing drugs (the last time I hung out downtown on my break, he was fighting with a woman about his drug use) take a picture of just me. I told him I was sure I didn't want my picture taken by him on his camera.

Later, I told my coworker that whoever he talked to about the camera had approached me to take my picture. Then I described him. Turns out.... they were two different people. Is it normal for people to go around randomly taking pictures?? Is it normal for someone to be asked to have their picture taken by a creepy druggie?

Today, a band was set up on a street corner a couple of blocks from work. This is kind of a cool "new" for me. Last year, I didn't work downtown... actually, right about now, I was about to change positions at work to help start covering floods because, fortunately, I didn't work somewhere that was flooded out. Unfortunately, I also didn't work somewhere that was located somewhere super cool like I do now. So during today's break, I followed the sound of the funky music and decided to sip my soda and listen. Though sometimes, even if I'm by myself, I might feel like swaying a little or bobbing my head 'cause I am all about the dancing. But today I just wanted to prop up against a building and take in the chill music. So I found my spot, propped, and sipped the soda. A minute later, some woman danced her way right next to me, literally 6 inches away, and invaded my Chill Zone with her dance moves. Totally awkward. Totally ruined my zone. There is definitely a Personal Space Code and she definitely invaded mine with her dancing all by herself. Why didn't she join the others who were dancing by themselves in their spacious area? Normal?

Ruined.

I went to the Java House, grabbed a coffee and listened to the end of a singer's performance while I read emails on my iPod. Normal. For me.

Speaking of today, I also did that thing where you wake up and just chill because you know you set the alarm and it hasn't gone off, yet. I was happy that I had some extra time to really wake up and get some happy thoughts going in my head before my day really started. I didn't look at the clock, because I didn't want to know how early it was. I just wanted to wait for my iPod to tell me it was time to get ready. I laid around... and laid... and laid...... Finally I decided to peek at how very early it was. And I discovered that my iPod alarm had gone off a half hour before, but the volume was off! I was supposed to leave right at that exact minute to get to work right on time. So I threw clothes on, made the dog pee on a car, threw him in his kennel, parked in a parking garage instead of for free on a street a few blocks away, and got to work 15 minutes late, tripping up the steps and landing on a recent wound on my shin that ended up hurting for an hour. And dropping everything that I had to pick up on my way to the desk... twice.

Normal?

I don't think there is a normal. I think there is just life and you can choose to look at it and see the humor or whine about it.

Why on earth would a druggie want to take a picture of me? For all I know, he still took a picture of my butt, but I know it isn't posted on the internet 'cause he comes here to the library to use the computer. I've taken pictures of strangers, but my friends and I are discreet about it... we giggle and stand in front of the stranger and pretend we're taking pictures of ourselves. ;-)

I felt totally awkward standing next to the lady who decided to dance in my space, but I'm always thinking that people should bust moves in public, alone or not. I just need to be careful what I wish for, 'cause I don't want them to dance ON me.

I "slept" in, fell on my wound, dropped everything like the klutz that I am... I was a comedic movie this morning. But everything was all set for our patrons when they came in. No one would have known I was late if it wasn't such a good story for me to tell them... and if I didn't want some sympathy for the pain I endured for the first hour.

There is no normal for me to fall back into... just a life to move ahead with.

Friday, May 22, 2009

I Miss Him

For those who don't know, my grandfather passed away just over a week ago.

To just call him a grandfather seems so... well, it hardly defines what he was to me. He was my surrogate daddy, my buddy, an incredible part of my support system. When I was hurting, it showed in his face just how much he hurt for me and hoped I'd get better. When I was succeeding, he was so proud that it made me feel like I accomplished 10 times more than what I had just done. It didn't matter if it was just that I had (finally) learned to make a good pot of coffee. He made me feel like I had just figured out something brand new, better than anyone else could do. Of course, when I did bigger accomplishments, like a writing or television job, he made me feel like a huge deal. But when those didn't work out, he didn't make me feel like a failure. He made me feel hopeful.

He was always cold, so he often wore cashmere sweaters. My head hit perfectly at his shoulder, so when we hugged, I could snuggle right into the soft fabric and feel protected. I never wanted to let go.

He didn't like his smile, but seeing it and hearing his low laugh, often with a soft snort, just lit me up. His eyes would twinkle and the smile was usually there because I said something silly or because he was picking on me or my cousin who is my age.

He had many passions. Sports, rocks (he owned quarries), family, photography... but he told me that nature was his religion. He loved to take all of his kids, grandkids and great-grandkids out to his enormous farm for a day trip. And I loved going. He showed me how to appreciate every little detail and I always knew that when he was gone, that's where I would find him. In the lightest breeze, in a falling leaf, in a rolling hill, in the sunset, in fluttering butterflies... I know that's where I'll see him.

I'm so blessed to have had the love that he gave me. To think that I'm his youngest grandchild and I'm 26 and got to have him this long... and he was healthy and as active as a middle-aged man until the two and a half weeks that he was in the hospital... he didn't have to suffer. He never had to feel old. That's something he never wanted and started fearing. He golfed in March when we went to California, he went to his big farm every week until he went to the hospital. He never got old.

Thursday, May 7, 2009

Take Five

Wow, I just... am the worst blogger ever! I haven't even been on here since I last wrote. Sheesh! It's that whole "sad things are happening and I don't want to write about sad stuff" problem. It's been a rough year. I keep wondering if a black cat has crossed my path or if I have walked under a ladder... all I can think of is that I walked in front of a black cat. I don't know what to make of that.

But still, I don't want to pour out The Sad on my blog. This is meant for entertaining stories or mundane thoughts that I turn into something huge. Perhaps something sentimental when I'm in the mood.

I think I would like to make an addendum to my last blog. I still felt incomplete, because, sure, a beggar yelled that I was still a good person when he asked for spare change and I pointed out that I didn't have my purse. But I hadn't done anything for him. It just made me feel validated enough to stop, turn around, and pathetically yell the most genuine, "Thank you!!"

So today, my brother and I had lunch downtown before I had to go to work and we still had another hour when we were finished. I had only drunk half of my soda and my brother wanted to go get coffee while we waited for my time for work to come. I will never turn down a chance at a latte, so since we were standing in Beggar Central and I spotted one of the regulars, I decided this was my shining moment. At first, I thought he was the beggar who feared me, then I remembered that he always wears bright clothes. This was a different one, but a regular, nonetheless. My brother knows the whole story, so I told him it was time for me, at last, to offer someone less fortunate something that I had. It took me a second to get the guts, because I didn't want to offend him, since he wasn't "on the clock" asking for anything. I also didn't want to be turned down again (Ah! Rejection!!). My brother sat back on a bench while I walked towards the man. I approached him with my soda reached out and said, "Do you want this? I'm just going to throw it away, otherwise." He said, "Yeah..." and took it then asked, "Do you have any smokes?"

So... while I finally accomplished my adolescent dream of giving something to someone who had less than I had, it really wasn't quite what I expected. Then again, I didn't really give him something nutritious or helpful, like fruit or new clothes. Just an unhealthy, half full (not half empty!!) cup of soda. But at least I didn't throw it away right there in front of a mall full of penniless people.

Maybe volunteering at a shelter would be more fulfilling than doing this on my own.