Petite billet doux (little love notes)

Dear Africa,

I wish I could come visit. Why do you have to be so dangerous?


Dear allergies,

I'm grateful for what I've been gifted in life, but allergic to the yellow fever vaccine... Really?


Dear San Diego,

I finally feel like myself again. I have you to thank for that.


Dear Little Italy,

I like your little neighborhood. I mean, MY little neighborhood.


Dear new job,

I like that I made my own hours, my bosses appreciate me, my salary is perfect, that I basically have the run of the town, and my accounts love me already. Plus, being able to walk to work is a HUGE bonus.


Dear Mama,

I miss hanging out with you and talking forever into the night. I am so grateful that I was able to spend 4 weeks with you. I wish you were here to see my new place, but I know that when you come visit, you'll absolutely love it!


Dear Dad,

I miss you. I'm sorry that my move wasn't planned better. There's no time like the present and there's no point in waiting it out. I'm happy here, but I miss you a whole awful lot.


Dear little sister,

Sorry I couldn't explain it better or wait any longer. I hope that one day you'll understand the why's and how's of it all... And in the meantime, just know that I miss my best friend and really wish I could drive across the bridge to see you right now.


Dear Allisen,

I miss hanging out and wish, now more than ever, that I'd spent more time coming to visit. I hope you'll visit me soon.(and maybe stay?)

Dear Michelle,

I am so glad that we've come back into eachothers lives. I forgot how much I missed you and I'm so grateful to you for needing me as much as I need you right now.



Dear blog friends,

I don't have Internet yet, but I promise to update more and catch up on what I've missed as soon as I do.


xx Carrie



- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

a winter wonderland...

{this was actually written on Friday morning (02/26/2010) but could not be published for lack of internet}

Our snow storm started yesterday morning. We've had some snowfall so far this winter. But it's been nothing compared to those of you south of us... Virginia, DC, Jersey, North Carolina... even Georgia!

We've had winters where we've gotten this much snow.

But all at once?

Really Mother Nature?

Necessary?

I think NOT.

We thought we would be okay in all this snow.

Until the power & phone went out around 5pm Thursday.

Yep... just in time for nightfall. So, as I was multi-tasking between my Twitter, Facebook, e-mail, ebay, & etsy...

power outage.

and then the phone lines were dead.

Oh - did I mention that I live in a cabin in the middle of the deep dark wood?

When the power goes out here, it means...

no electricity (obv),

no heat,

(save for the woodstove, which we... ok Dad.. had to dig out the woodpile after all of the snow)

no water (septic tank, hello?),

no internet/cable

and spotty cell service

(we basically live in a hole where cell phone service requires you to hold your cell phone high up in the air with one hand while standing on one foot and praying for a signal as you walk from one end of the house to the other, standing by the windows and wondering if signals can travel through log walls...)

So in the midst of all of this - Dad & I get our gear on and trudge up the mile (seven tenths of a mile, to be exact)-long private road to check and see if the rest of the neighbors are in the same boat.

Yes. All of them. Same deal.

(some do have generators, but come on..)

So on our walk back home... we actually have to navigate through fallen trees on the road

(yes, they fell in the 15-20 minutes whilst chatting up the neighborhood)

So, in addition to all of the snow...

this is what I woke up to this morning...

 

 

 

"heavy duty" carport

our poor trucks...

roof rack is gone. tires are being squished... roof is a lot closer to the floor now...

(dad's is worse)

carport leaning on my poor sweet jeep.

snowblower was saved by the jeep...

dad.. fixing the snowblower..

with duct tape, a wire hanger & a spike.

(he's a ranger... what can I say?)

oh, yes... that's the carport. You can see the shed behind it...

but that has just sunk into the ground... not collapsed.

And so far... the roof has held steady.

I count my blessings that no one was hurt,

and I pray that I can make it to the airport somehow for my seven AM flight to Vegas tomorrow...

and so then Patton says....

*disclaimer: personal alert*

"The time to take counsel of your fears is before you make an important battle decision. That's the time to listen to every fear you can imagine! When you have collected all the facts and fears and made your decision, turn off all your fears and go ahead!"  —General George S. Patton, Jr.

 
 

After a chat with my dad (thanks, btw) and some reassurances, I've decided that I will post about this and you don't have to read it if you don't want to, but I need to write it.  I'm writing everything.

All of it.

I'm not a crier.  in any sense.  But I'm feeling a little weepy tonight. 

 ok, maybe not weeeeeepy.. but definately teary-eyed.

There are certain people in my life that have this inane ability to look at me and if I have any sort of sadness in my heart, I will immediately burst into tears.

Not kidding.

and not pretty, either.

It's actually quite annoying.

Especially if you've just driven 11 hours with your sister only to stop in and see an old friend and can barely speak in his direction let alone make eye-contact for fear (yeah, it scares me) of losing it.

{long story, different story, more on that at some point down the line, maybe.}

I've learned that the key to this is eye-contact. 

It should be avoided at all costs when feeling sad,

 helpless,

{insert name of another useless-in my humble opinion-and unavoidable emotion here}

etc. 

you get the point.

so tonight, as my Dad was so kindly saying good-night, what did I do?

slipped up and looked him in the eye..

yep.

tear central.

so here's what's up...

I haven't written much in the last week

every time that I sit down to write,

I go blank.

So here goes.

I am scared. nervous. apprehensive. second-guessing myself.

I feel lost.

 

I feel alone.

 

Even in the midst of a packed room, I feel alone.

I am trying to think happy thinks. 

 I amuse myself with happy blog-posts that others have written. 

 I busy myself with plans of cleaning and baking and cooking, and all around, just not at home time. 

I've become addicted (seriously, not a good thing) to my iphone. 

 {Words with Friends, anyone? - I have 13 games going right now.}

  I surround myself with people.

I volunteer my weekend to hang out with a four-year old (did have fun, btw).

  I try to block out the bad thoughts. 

 The ones telling me that what I'm doing is crazy.

That I need a job.

that grown ups don't do this.

grown ups don't give everything up and make huge decisions based on whims.

then I chide myself, because obv, this is not a whim.

I am not whimsical.

I'm spontaneous, yes.

whimsical, no.

I want to wake up every day with a purpose.

I know, right now, my calling in Africa in less than 30 days, but I'm talking long run here.

Please keep in mind that I haven't worked in... (oh, since, November 13th, 2009)

 yeah, seriously, three months.  That's it.

And I've had big things going on in those three months.

But what I long for is not the job I left,

it's not the 9-5 routine of conventionality {is that even a word?}.

I want to do something that reminds me on a daily basis why I go to work.

I want to travel.

I want to know in my heart that I make a difference.

I want to experience different cultures.

I want to learn more about people.

I want to share my experiences with writing.

or photos.

or postcards.

or stories.

Problem is... what kind of job does that???

I struggle.

Well in the first 8 days of the new year, I've been able to cross off a couple of the things on my Bucket List.  Unfortunately, I would have preferred that they turn out differently, but such is life, right?  

So here's the story.  An old friend asked for a favor.  Needed a place to stay for awhile.  I knew what I was getting into.  I knew the history.  Addiction, mistakes, selfishness, depression...

What I saw - An addict trying to get clean.  A young person trying to right the wrongs they'd done.  Someone that had hope for being a better person.  A young soul that needed a friendly face and a kind ear to listen as they struggled.

I took a chance.  I took a chance when people told me it was a bad idea.  I took a chance when I was apprehensive.  I took a chance because I would want someone to take a chance on me.  Gamble on me.  Bet on me.

As happens a lot of the time when I do bet,  I lost.  And if you're gonna go, ya gotta go big.  I lost big.  My belongings were rifled through and my trust was violated.  I lost some jewelry, some credit cards, some cash and mostly, some faith.

Last night after it all came to light, I was angry.  Raging.  So much so that I scrubbed down the kitchen and the bathroom and did 6 loads of laundry.  And now that I think about it, it's a pretty good release of frustration - all that good old fashioned hard work.  Very productive.

I'm sorting out the credit card ordeal, and now my debit card ordeal... (thank you ChaseBank for calling me within 4 hours of the first fraudulent charge).  I'd been lied to, I'd been taken a fool, and worse, I felt like one.  I wish I could say that I never had that thought you have after being burned, the one where you swear to never trust again...

Oh, I thought it.  For a split second in anger and just sheer desperation of not knowing what else to think...  but it's not me.  I'm not that person.  I'm not a "glass half-empty" type of girl.  I never have been.  Sure, I have my moments, I struggle... but that's all they are.  Just moments of fear.  And I choose faith over fear.

I have faith that people are kind and good and sweet and honest and selfless and that they won't hurt you, intentionally or otherwise.  I give more than I get.  I'm happy to lend a hand, an ear, a shoulder to anyone that needs it.  I may sound naive to some, but it's just an outlook.  I've learned that there are some people in this world, in this life, in my life (past tense, obv) that are only thinking of themselves and that some people are not capable of compassion and even some persons that choose to inflict verbal/emotional/physical abuse.  Those people are few and far between and I am grateful to have only met a few of the latter kind.

--------------------------------------
dear old friend,  I am compassionate.  I am considerate.  I love you.  But I love me more.  There is only so much that I can give.  I took a chance.  I gave more good than I got.  And I gave a second chance... but am not willing to give a third.  I'll be happy to lend an ear, but that's all I can manage.  Call me when it all works out for you and you're sober for a couple of years.  love, carrie
--------------------------------------

And the worst part of it all?  As bad as this may sound, nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong.  The absolute worst was having to admit (just to myself) that my Dad and C. were right and I was wrong.  I effing hate that.



PS - I've decided to adopt a new outlook for chance-giving...
"fool me once, shame on you.  fool me twice, eff you. "