New Blog

I will soon be transferring my blog to a new blog address.  Actually, I already have, I just don't really have anything new on there yet.  You can now read about my life (because, really, who doesn't want more of ME?) at http://bjmortie.wordpress.com/
So, yeah, I won't be updating the blog here anymore.  Eventually, I'll probably delete it.  Just not for awhile, in case old habits die hard and you all keep coming here just because it's what you've always done.  I may transfer the Happy Apricots over to wordpress eventually, but for now I'm keeping that one on blogspot.  See ya there!

What luck!

I eased my car down the on-ramp and onto the highway.  "Yeah, I'll probably get there right on time," I thought to myself, right before traffic suddenly slowed to 20 MPH (speed limit:  70 MPH).  I caught a glimpse of police lights ahead but couldn't see anything else.  As cars of frustrated drivers backed up in both lanes, I waited until the car next to me came up even with me.  Then I rolled down my window and signaled to him to do the same.
"Can you see what's going on up there?"  I called out once his window was down, too.
"Not really.  Police lights and lots of rubberneckers," he yelled back.
"Yeah, that's about what I got."
He looked at me again.  "Well.  Since we're chatting, can I call you sometime?  What's your number?"
I told him, pleased that I had worn my lucky green polo shirt and had actually done my hair this morning.
Just then, traffic started picking back up, so we waved goodbye to each other.
"I'll call you!" he said as he rolled up his window.  I smiled my sweetest and most beautiful smile and gave him a double-thumbs up...

What do you mean, you don't believe me?

Okay, to tell you the truth, that is just what I would have LIKED to have happened.  Unfortunately, I only have those manual roll-down windows, so I didn't feel comfortable reaching across to roll down my passenger-side window while driving.  Sigh.  Another chance gone by.  Aw, he's probably married or something like that, anyway.  Oh, well.  Oh, and traffic did pick back up pretty soon.  It was just a big cleaning van on the side of the road and a motorcycle cop.  I don't know why it backed up traffic like that.  Weird.  Timing, I guess.  And I did get to my meeting on time, so at least something still worked out.  Who says things can't go my way?

What is it about junior high?

Some fare better than others, but I still don't know how anyone gets through it with any semblance of self-esteem.  I'm willing to bet that every person who has been there has at least one junior high story - a moment that marked them and changed them, if only slightly. This is one of mine:
I believe it was ninth grade, but it could have been eighth.  As math class drew to a close, we picked up our books and gathered around the door, waiting for the bell to ring.  We started out the door as soon as the sound reached our ears.  As I took my first step, I felt myself being shoved from behind - not tossed with the sea of bodies exiting the classroom, but physically pushed by a single person.  I looked up in time to see who had done it.  And I promptly shoved him back.  I wasn't just going to take that!  Shoving girls around is not the way to win friends and influence people.  As he turned, I didn't get the apology - or even the "oops" - that I was expecting.  Instead, he said, "What a . . . yuck!"  And then he walked away.  My triumphant grin vanished.   He wasn't impressed, or conscience-pricked, or even amused that I would shove him back.  He was disgusted.  Did I disgust all the boys in the school?  Was this the word that everyone thought to themselves, silently, when I was around - only he had been startled enough to utter it out loud?
It's amazing what a moment can do to a person, if they let it.  Well, I let it.  For some reason, his words rang true (whether they were or not, I believed them).  And for years, and sometimes even now, I took offense when someone (especially male) called me pretty, beautiful, cutie - all those words that build most girls up just seemed to re-open that wound for me.  I couldn't take them seriously for fear that it really was just a joke.
That also may have been the moment that I stopped standing up for myself.  After all, he didn't take it seriously.  And it didn't do any good with the guy that stood in front of my locker every day, sometimes more than once, blocking my way (and mocking me) until I had thoroughly humiliated myself begging him to let me through.  (The remote and extremely thin possibility that he might have actually been flirting with me is the only thing that keeps me sane through THAT memory.  I hope I never know the truth.)
Why do some moments stay with us while others don't?  Junior high was TWO YEARS of my life.  There were many, many moments I could have remembered.  And I don't know why a lot of the memories that I have, from all different times in my life, stand out.  And not just the painful ones, either.  Good times, funny times, exciting moments - yes, they were, but I'm sure there were others that I don't remember.  Ah, who knows?
Here's one thing I do know:  Even though I had these moments that affected me - shaped me, even - I am SO glad they don't determine me.  No matter how old I am or how long I have lived in this shape, I am still free to choose how I want to be and how I want to act.  It might take some time, or healing, or practice, or any number of things, but how I was then doesn't have to be how I am now.
And here's another thing:  Maybe junior high ought to be banned.        

"New" Insight

This past Sunday, I made the switch from the singles branch to the regular or "family" ward.  I had several reasons for doing it.  It's not that I really needed "a good reason" for leaving the singles, but people kept asking me why.  I'm meeting with my new bishop this Sunday, so I was pondering what to say in case he asks me.  You know, just so I'll have SOMETHING to answer him.  In contemplating the little things - the age difference between me and most of those who attend singles here, the difference in drive time (3 min. vs. 30), desire to go to church with families (oddly enough) - I realized that the main, underlying factor for my decision was simply my desire for change.  I never realized before today how much of a change-craver I am (change-addict?).  Well, I probably always knew it, to some extent.
I remember that, growing up, I used to periodically rearrange the furniture in my bedroom, just to feel like I had a new bedroom.  Even when the dresser was taller than me, I would just push or pull one side at a time until we had reached our destination.
My cousin and I used to pick a new location every summer for our "playhouse" (I use the term lightly).  I don't remember ever finishing one.  It was the digging, and working, and piling, and stacking, and CREATING that we liked.
I don't love the moving process, but I'm always excited to get a new place.  Love it, love it, love it.
I like to change up the driving routes I take - always looking for the faster way, or the way with the fewest lights, or the straightest way, or whichever goal I have in mind that day.
I'm sure there are more examples; I just can't think of them right now.  (Amazingly, I never changed my major!  See, I also have a stubborn streak.)  But, anyway, the point is that realizing this has suddenly made a lot of my life make much more sense. Even knowing that I like to see new things and have new experiences, I wanted my life to be "stable."  I was expected to (or expected myself to) go to college, get a job in my chosen field, get married, get a home, have kids and settle down.  And I am happy about the things I did accomplish.  I wanted to go to college for the education as well as preparation for employment (I never wanted a career).  I'm grateful I've had the experience of working in music therapy.  It is a great job.  And renting an apartment does qualify as having a home.
But I've had this - I don't know what to call it - unhappiness (I guess) about my life in general.  I haven't been able to reach many of these life "goals" I've had, and the ones I did reach were such a fight, such a struggle.  It took me several years to get a steady music therapy job.  This is the first apartment I've rented where I didn't have at least one roommate.  It took me a long time to graduate from college.  And so on.  Anyway, it feels like I've been fighting so hard, putting so much energy and so many resources into building this "expected" life that I never did what I really wanted to do.  I never lived like I really wanted to live.  For example, I've always wanted to travel and see new places, but all my resources were going toward keeping an apartment, etc.  I like to see and do new things and want to have new experiences but told myself I had to have a certain kind of job or experience - such as how I told myself for YEARS that I was a pianist, not a singer.  I've been limiting myself and stifling my natural personality in many ways.  It's no wonder that I've felt the way I have (which I won't attempt to describe) when I've been forcing myself to sometimes do the opposite of what my very personality is!  Now, I know there are times when self-discipline is necessary, and even doing the opposite of our natural inclinations is necessary at times.  However, I've been limiting myself a lot more than what is necessary.  Now I am open to a lot more possibilities!          

I don't know what to say.

It happens to me a lot.  I've been around to so many sides of it, I'm amazed it has any sides left.  Maybe I'm afraid someone will make fun of me.  Maybe I'm afraid I'll be misunderstood.  Maybe I'm afraid I WILL be understood (and don't want to be held accountable for saying it).  Sometimes I don't talk loud enough and have to repeat myself.  That's annoying.  Less energy to just keep quiet.  Sometimes I know what I want to say but don't know which words to use.  Sometimes I know exactly what to say, but by the time I have a chance, the conversation has moved on to a different topic.  I hate that, too.  I always wondered how some people know exactly when to open their mouths.  I'd watch in amazement as the other people in the room (or even in the car!) would just naturally go back and forth, as if they knew right when the other person was going to breathe.  But the other person wasn't upset that the first person jumped in, right in the middle of their thought - actually they acted like they were expecting it.  I can kind of do it, now, if it's only me and one other person.  Get a group, though, and I'm usually lost.  Or then there's the theory that if I don't say much, the other people won't be able to judge my thoughts and beliefs.  Or that if I do say something embarrassing, it's forgivable because I'm shy or just not very good at talking.  Or maybe I'm just boring.  Maybe I really, truly don't have anything to say.  I guess that's bound to happen sometimes.  There's no way for me to know about everything there is.  But then it usually doesn't even occur to me to say something like, "Tell me more about that" or "I really don't know anything about..." or "How did you find out about..."  Yeah.  Words.  They just fail me sometimes.  So, I don't know if it's an image thing, or a language problem, or a social skills problem, or just a personality thing, or WHAT it is.  Or maybe it's just an opportunity to listen.  Sure, it's frustrating when I'm not able to share, but maybe I don't need to.  At least, not every time I feel like it.  I don't know.  It's a mystery.  Oh, and then there are the times when I actually AM able to speak, but I stutter or talk way too fast, so people can't understand me anyway.  And then there are the times when it actually comes out the way I mean it to and then the other person argues with me.  Is it even worth it?  Sometimes I wonder.  BUT, at least I CAN talk.  I can get my thoughts out eventually.  That is a blessing.  So I guess this is just something else to work on. 

It's in fashion...

I'm one of those bird owners who got a bird without doing any research first.  So I'm just learning as I go along.  Well, I was at the pet store one day and saw a product called a "mineral block."  You hang it in the cage, and the bird can rub its beak on it, trimming the beak and giving the bird some good minerals.  So I got an orange one - it's made to look like a round orange slice - and hung it in Benny's cage.  It hung there for months.  I think he scraped his beak on it a couple times but ignored it for the most part... until this week, that is.  Apparently, he decided it was time to attack that mineral block with everything he had.  I went out to feed him one morning, and he had ground it completely to powder.  But the best part was that, in the process, he had dyed his head orange.

 Hee Hee!  It looks so funny!  I kinda like his punk rock look. 



Self-discipline:  HOW do I get it??  I keep staying up way, way, way too late.  And then I sleep in and don't get anything done in the morning.  And then in the morning I say to myself, "I'm going to bed early tonight!"  And do I go to bed early, or even on time?  Nope!  Not at all.  And it happens with exercising, too.  I sleep in and miss my exercise time.  Once a month or so, I manage to fit it in when I get home from work, but mostly I just exercise on Saturdays.  Not good.  But at least I'm getting in once a week!  That's more than I used to get.  Sigh.  I can set up all the schedules I want, but I don't know how to make myself follow through.  That is the big mystery.  It's weird.  Most people get better as they get older, but I was a ton more disciplined when I was younger.  In high school, I went to bed at a certain time and woke up early every day - without my mommy telling me to.  I went to bed and got up on time in college, too, and even after college.  But now...  yeah, my self-discipline has eluded me.  It's a tragedy.  It really is.  Well, I continue to seek, and eventually I may find.  We will see.  In the meantime, I will just focus on some of my more endearing qualities.  I make great food.