Day 10: Personal Day

Because we don't have school on Tuesday in honor of Veterans' Day, I opted to take a personal day today and spend a long weekend in Amarillo. (As an aside, I love how people in my family say the word veterans--it's more like "vetrins." My grandfathers are all vetrins of WWII. It's one of the words I have to think about to pronounce correctly. Along with nuclear because, yeah, if I'm not thinking, I say it like the President does.) Anywho, given what happened the last time I requested a personal day, the day I handed in that leave slip, I offered an explanation for it, even though legally, it's not required and honestly, I shouldn't have. I just didn't want a repeat of September's interregation.

My paternal grandfather isn't doing so well. I spoke to him on the phone on Wednesday and upon hanging up, called my sister Amy to cry. He's easily confused and tired and kept asking me where I was (not in a sad, pleading way; more in the "I don't think I've asked you this" confused way). I know that I am beyond blessed to have such longevity in my family--my first grandparent died when I was 33 and it was a step-grandparent at that. Truth be told, it's a mixture of longevity and short generation spans. But whichever it is, I've definitely enjoyed knowing my grandparents as an adult. But along with that blessing of age is the curse of seeing them be old. It's tough. It gives truth to the cliched saying that getting old isn't for the weak. But I'll be happy to keep them around as long as I can.

Day 9: Sunday

I like that the rhythm of Sundays during the fall is almost always the same, no matter where I am. Wake up a little later than one does during the week, church, lunch, watch football, take naps on the couch. If I'm at home, and all while I was growing up, Sunday is typically laundry day and grocery shopping is done if I didn't complete that task on Saturday. Complete the normal mundane little things to get ready for the upcoming week. There is definitely a comfort to this routine even if it leaves me with nothing to say at the end of the day aside from "It was a good day today."

Day 8: 34

more animals


Pretty much sums up how about this aging thing. When the heck did I become 34? That's like mid-30's which is like almost 40 which is like really old. I remember my mom being 34 and she was old then. Of course, I was 8 so my vantage point might have been slightly skewed by the fact that my own age was not yet in double digits. Yikes. How long ago those days now seem. . .

The best birthday present today will be a Texas Tech win against Oklahoma State but I will not refuse diamonds, a new car, cashmere, or anything else my adoring family and friends would like to thrust upon me. Simple well wishes are also much appreciated.

Day 7: Thinking

I read an interesting article on Slate entitled Does Religion Make You Nice? I suggest you follow the link and read the article for yourself as it makes some interesting points. Essentially, the end findings are that it is really the feeling that you belong to a community that makes one happy. The last paragraph had a little tweak to it that got me to thinking.

I've always kept my faith and beliefs pretty low-key, on here and in real life. It's not because I'm not proud of being a Christian and I'm willing to stand up for what I believe in. I think it perhaps is more that I worry I will be viewed as preachy and judgmental and exclusive and generally not very nice, kind of what that last paragraph eludes to. I also tend to take a bit more of a live and let live approach to being a Christian because of those people I've personally met who are preachy and judgmental and exclusive and not very nice and LOUDLY Christian. They make *me* cringe so I can only imagine what others think. It reminds me of the Gandhi quote, "I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ." I think if I turn one person off to Christianity, I've done more harm than the good I might do if I get a whole host of people to join the church. It's probably not the best method for being a witness and there are probably those who are reading this and cringing that I admitted that but I hope people do know that I am a Christian by my words and actions. And while I try for that, I know I often fall short. I've groused too much about people in my life and I know this place often becomes more about venting than anything else. I gossip more than I should. I curse too much. I don't always eat right and exercise. Because in the end, I'm a very, very fallible human. But I keep working at being better and correcting those bad habits of mine despite all the stumbles and roadblocks along the way.

I do write things that I never post because I don't want to open the situation up to discussion and because I know it doesn't present either the people, the situation, or the topic in a good light. Oftentimes, it is when I'm at my most frustrated and most vulnerable (and probably exhibiting my least Christian behavior). I do try to keep this a true representation of who I am and I do post some of those things along with the mindless blathering. I hope I've been successful in achieving a balance--that if you didn't know me beforehand but only through this place and then met me, you'd just say, "Yep, that's the Carrie I've read." I keep comments open on all posts because I know I need a good shake some days and to be told to get over myself. Thankfully most people are gracious and thoughtful when telling me what an idiot I'm being.

I do agree with the idea that being part of a community makes you nicer. I started this little blog three years ago. I actually had another one for about two days before I started this one but I didn't like the name so I deleted it and the Blue-eyed Bookworm was born. There was no real reason for starting this place other than to have a place to dither on about rather pointless things, muse about current events, and share a little glimpse of what was happening in my world. I had friends who had blogs and read some more well-known ones. I never wanted to achieve great fame or wealth with this place. I never promised it would be interesting, just as my life gets pretty routine and boring. It was just a chance to reach out to my personal community of friends and family, few of whom live here in ABQ. I've tried to remain relatively private on things. I use first names and places (rarely changed to protect the innocent) but I've tried to never mention our last name or other easy identifiers such as the name of my school. I guess if someone really wanted to screw with me, they could based on information I've written but hopefully, they won't. I try not to write too much about work or the students because I would hate to have this come back to bite me. Yes, there is the occasional post about it but usually if I write something, it isn't posted.

I told Paul and my mom and sisters almost immediately about this spot. I wouldn't have done so had the entire thing been private and unavailable to the world at large, like my journals I wrote in years ago. However, since it was available to anyone, I let them know so it couldn't ever come back to haunt me. Paul knows about the place and much of what I write but rarely, if ever, stops by to read it. My mom and sisters are probably my most regular readers. Over the course of time, I let other friends and family know about this place so that they could keep up with the doings of Paul and Carrie. A couple of other friends found this place via my Facebook page. Because it is out there, I've made some other friends who've stopped by and stuck around. Some I "know" better than others as they leave comments for me and I read their own blogs; some I only know about because I see the IP addresses come up regularly on the Sitemeter. But my little community has grown as has the list of blogs I read as more family members and friends have started their own little places. That makes me happy which, I think, makes for a much nicer me.

Day 6: Eh.

I have another much longer post I've written but I'm not sure it's what I want to post today. It might not be what I want to post tomorrow. It might be one of those things that never gets posted. That does happen from time to time, you know.

I like to think that last year, there was a little bit of organization to my NaBloPoMo postings in November. Probably not but a girl can dream. This year, it's more of a challenge because I'm not fully vested in the month of posting--it's just the determination to get it done that means I'm going to do it. I know I've not put nearly as much thought into it as I did last year when I had topics planned out and posts written in advance. Honestly, this year, it was as if I thought," Oh, yeah. Write for 30 days in a row." on Nov. 1 when we were in Seattle and it seemed like the thing to do. Perhaps it was the weather that got to me. I don't know. But I have a feeling there is going to be more "Yep, nothing to write about today" posts this year along with what I had for lunch (bowl of minestrone soup, crackers, cheese) and maybe a few recipes thrown in. If the weather continues as it is today, there will also be more complaints about how cold I am. Just for the record, I am cold. I dislike winter and weather below 65. Also anything above about 85. I need to move someplace where the temperatures stays between those two with mostly sunny days and the occasional rainy day thrown in to keep it interesting. If little birds and mice could also help me get dressed every morning, it would be greatly appreciated. Actually, if the birds and mice wouldn't mind cleaning up after the cat who has decided he likes to throw up between 4:00 and 5:30 a.m. two to three days a week then I could get dressed without having to worry about where the hairball is and if I'm going to step in it, as I did yesterday, that would be even better.

In the meantime, here is a picture Donna sent me of the Babe's Fried Chicken sign while I was standing right beside her and we were trying to figure out why I wasn't receiving texts from Paul. Because this picture was going to solve that question.
I never did get the texts from Paul and the picture finally arrived about 10 hours after it was sent. Maybe my New Mexico phone wasn't compatible with Texas cell phone signals.