The Journey

More Camping Stuff

     (Written between 9/24 and 9/27/07)

    This is probably going to be little bits and pieces of stuff as I come across them while I'm here.  Too small for a post of their own but stuff I don't want to forget.

    I find myself sighing a lot.  I don't know if I do that all the time and am just too distracted to notice or if I really need a lot more oxygen when I relax.  It was very pronounced the first night I was here--like every minute or two I would have this big sigh--almost like I was decompressing. 

    I'm sleeping 12-14 hours a day.  If I "only" sleep 10 or 12 hours at night I nap 2-4 hours during the day.  I didn't know how tired I was.

    I spent an entire day in the cabin--the only times I went out were to go to the bathroom--I didn't even shower.  It was amazingly restful!

    As much as I loved being alone, being quiet, being unscheduled, I find I miss people a little bit.  I think that if I could stay a week I'd actually be glad to go home.  As it is, I'm not exactly excited about it but I don't really mind, either.  I'm fine with not minding--far better than not wanting to leave.

Camping Alone

   (I went on this little trip this past week)

    I started out writing this like a travelogue.  You know, "I had planned to leave the house at about noon but..."  It was pleasant and even amusing most of the time. but that's not the important part of my camping trip.

    I'll sum up what originally took several pages to say in the following:  I discovered I hadn't been on a vacation in as long as I can remember and recalled Anne Morrow Lindberg's book _Gifts From the Sea_ (worth the read if I recall correctly) where she talked about spending one month each year in a cabin by the ocean.  She spent the time in reflection.  I yearned for that month for years and years.  Thus, when thinking about a vacation I looked for and found a lovely little (12x14 ft) cabin in a state park and rented it for four days (the most they had available at the time.  I went up on Sunday and will leave on Thursday (I'm still at the cabin as I begin this) and it's been everything I had hoped for and more.

    Not as many humorous anecdotes as those several pages but it covers the basics and spares you from the verbal equivalent to the proverbial slide show of years gone by.

    What truly applies to this blog is what I discovered about myself while in my cabin in the woods. 

    You know how people keep telling all of us to find our passion and do that one thing and be endlessly happy? (Or something like that.)  What I've discovered is that I'm a generalist rather than a specialist.  I'm 56 and have no idea what my passion is.  I was feeling rather a failure about not being able to figure out something that sounded so simple on the surface of it.  I thought for a moment I had found it when I discovered photography but while I love it and will learn a lot more about it and improve my skills and have lots of fun with it, it's not my passion.  But then I started wondering if it couldn't be that photography is my passion-of-the-moment and there will be another one along at just the right moment and when that happens perhaps photography will take a backseat to the new one. 

    I'm not sure any of that is true but I'm certain I haven't found my passion.  Perhaps I will one day but perhaps there are a lot of us out there who either don't have one or have suppressed it so far down we can't find it any more.  I'm not giving up on it, just allowing myself, giving myself permission, not to have a passion so I can join in with the popular crowd.  As always, I'll be a bit of a renegade, going a bit against the tide but still allowing my boat to head downstream (pardon the mixed mataphors).

    As you can see, none of this is very well-formed but I always find that writing like this helps me solidify my confused thoughts a bit more and so I put these writings in my Journey Journal with the assurance that I'm certainly not the first person to have arrived at this place in life and not known where to go from here.

Wishlist

Have you ever had a wish list?  I don't mean a list of what you want for Christmas or from the book store.  No, I mean a giant wish list of all the things you'd love to have in your life.  I've decided I want one.  I would love it if I could have it on a piece of paper that was like the old-fashioned parchments that were rolled up and they went on for yards.  OK, why can't I?  There are rolls of paper--somewhere--I know I've seen them.  I'll start looking.  In the meantime I'll start with a computer list because that looks like it goes on and on forever if I set it up the right way. 

Join me, won't you?  Let's make a list of all the things we truly want in life.  I believe that writing it down makes it much more likely to happen.  It somehow sends it out into the universe and ta-da--there is is--sort of.

Maybe none of that is even the point.  I just know I want a list of all the stuff in the world I want but I want it so I can be happy about all the things I find fun and exciting, not so I can feel miserable that I don't have them.  That wouldn't be any fun at all. 

Let's do it!  I might even think about putting mine somewhere you can see it--I might not.  It will depend on what's on it, you know?  I know I share a ton with you but there are some things best left private--for all our sakes. :)

I Appear to Be Back

I've been gone a long time.  What have I been doing?  Hmmm, in some ways not a lot and in others, a TON!

In case you still remember what I wrote WAY back on June 20th, I felt inspired to write this tonight.  I love it when inspiration hits.  Of course a friend asked about my blog and that brought it to the forefront of my brain and here I am.

Here's what happened with the apartment in Seattle.  (I haven't read through all the posts from back then--just hit the high points--so bear with me if you remember more than I do.

As I sit here thinking where to begin I find myself getting all tied up in time-ordered knots.  Rather than starting at the beginning, I'll start from now and work backwards sort of.

For the last two months or so my fibromyalgia has been kicking my butt!  Last month I earned just a wee bit more than rent would have been at the apartment I looked at in Seattle.  This month it was a little more but still not enough to really make it over there.  Am I glad I didn't try to move?  YES!!!!!

Another interesting thing--have I talked about bi-polar with you?  Possibly, possibly not.  For now I'll just say I've been diagnosed as bi-polar and once I started doing some research on it, some of the things I used to just shake my head over and wonder what in the world I was thinking when I did stuff started making a lot of sense. 

What does that have to do with the apartment?  I was having a minor manic episode when I thought I could go on vacation and move in the same month--and have that be just a month from when I looked at the apartment.  Good grief--get real! 

The combination of all of that has caused me to be a lot more cautious about moving right now.  I need to find out how the bi-polar is going to shake out with the meds I'm on.  I need savings to make the move and savings to help me get through a tough month or two should they pop up.  I need to figure out what I would do if I can't work enough to support myself even over here in Bremerton.  Lots of things I need to do before I can move.

What hasn't changed is knowing it's the place I need to be.  I was talking to a friend yesterday and she said she knew someone who was selling a lovely 4-year-old double wide mobile home in an adults-only park in some small town that is basically a bedroom community for Seattle.  I was so comfortable telling her how much I appreciated her thinking about me but if I can't move to where I want to be, I'm very content where I am.  I'm not moving "from."  I'm moving "to."  Wow!  That's interesting.  Most of the moves I've made over the years have been running away from something.  Very interesting.

So, there's the Seattle part of what's going on.  You'll probably be hearing more from me in the next few days/weeks.

Taking Time Off--Maybe

I've been conspicuously absent a lot lately and I'm having trouble getting back to writing.  One of the things I've been working on--"working" is not the word I'm looking for but it will do until the real one comes along.  Anyway, one of the things I'm working on right now is inspiration--what would my life look like if I were to do things because they inspired me?  One of the things it would look like is that I would blog when I was inspired to do so rather than when I felt compelled to.  I've been feeling guilty for not writing more for a while.  I'm no longer feeling guilty.  I just wanted to let you know where I've gone in case I'm not inspried for a while :-)

A Death in the Family

My husband died on Saturday.  Have I written about him?  I doubt it.  Ed and I haven't lived together since 1975 (unless you count a few weeks in 1986 when we were sharing an apartment but not a bed).  Anyway, even though we were separated and I knew we could never live together again, I still loved him and we were still in contact on a regular basis over the years. 

Ed was in prison most of the past 32 years.  He got out a couple of times but I don't think he managed to stay out for a whole year each time and then he was back in for another offense.  He was a sociopath and could explain away anything--infidelity, bank robbery, lying to me (well, lying to anyone), anything.  I never knew when the stories he told were true in the historical sense or only true in his mind but he told great stories.  He claimed to have been injured in Korea (we discovered he had only been in active military for 3 months and the Reserves for another 6).  He had one adventure after another to hear him tell it.  He grew up in the Italian-American neighborhood in Kansas City--another source of colorful stories, these involving the children of mafia bosses.

I don't know if it makes any sense or not to love someone like that--OK, I KNOW it makes no sense to love someone like that but I loved him.  He was the only man I ever truly loved and I know he loved me. 

Other than the two times I was so angry with his behavior that I didn't acknowledge him for over a year, we talked on the phone every Saturday or Sunday morning at 9:00 for years.  He called just as regular as clockwork.  When he didn't call I knew there was trouble in the prison.  They were on lock-down.  There might have been rumors of a riot or a couple of knife fights or even just receiving a couple of bus loads of new prisoners all at once (especially if they were gang members and rival gang members were at his prison).  We carried on our non-spousal relationship 15 minutes a week for years at a time.

It has been hard these last few days.  I sent an email to all my immediate family and only my father responded with anything resembling concern for how I was doing.  The rest have remained silent.  They all knew I was not going to get back together with Ed from nearly the very beginning of his incarceration, so almost 30 years ago.  I guess they assume I had no feelings for him after all these years.  I feel amazingly alone and sad.  My friends have been great!  My daughter--what can I say about her?  She's amazing.  She has tended to the arrangements and helped me do my work and kept up with all of hers as well.  She, too, has gotten virtually no support. 

When I asked my sister if she had received the email I sent two days before she said she had but was waiting to hear what arrangements had been made to respond.  That wasn't exactly the response I was hoping for but it's what I got.  Anyway, I'm sad.

The good news is that I'm grieving rather than shoving it inside to fester along with all the other events in my life I didn't want to feel at the time.  I'm being sad.  I cry sometimes, I nap when I'm tired, I don't attempt to be overly cheery on the phone (though I don't share my grief with strangers, either).  It's a hard balancing act.  If we were looked upon as a couple I would be taking several days off to lie in bed and cry or whatever it is grieving widows do. 

I'm going to go be sad, now.  I recorded the original version of Oceans 11 last night and I'll watch that in his honor--it was one of his favorite films.  I'll go find a downloadable version of My Way by Frank Sinatra and listen to it--that was his all-time favorite song.  I may even try to find the old John Wayne version of The Alamo to watch.

I'll come back with wonderful vacation stories another day.

Vacation update

I might do something a little more in-depth after I get home from the vacation and have time to process but so far I've had lunch with my mother (went exceptionally well), the big family party that went as expected--great fun, great food, not a serious discussion in sight--spent the night at my sister's (always a very good thing), and spent a few semi-uncomfortable hours of up-close and personal time with my father (well, his wife and my step-sister were there, too, but still way too personal), and then hours and hours at the Mall of America with daughter, SIL, his two kids and my two grandkids--all good kids and lots of fun and still a little stressful just because there were so many of us and there's always a little drama with that many women in one place (three of the younger set are girls/women). 

Anyway, no crises, nothing overly dramatic, just a good family visit.  Today I get time with my daughter and SIL going to museums and shopping--always a fun thing to do.  I'm looking forward to it! 

It just occurs to me that I may have been having less fun than I could because I keep waiting for the stress--what a not fun way to spend my vacation.  I'm not quite sure how to stop having expectations--not sure if I want to--well, one more thing to ponder.

Minnesota Visit

I'm in Minnesota for the next week.  I arrived late last night and I'll be here until Wednesday. 

Just a couple of observations about this trip--first, I'm thrilled to be able to spend time with my daughter, her significant other, and my granddaughters.  I love the rest of my family, too, but it's just a little stressful to see most of the rest of them.  Actually, the only stress is around my parents.  I see my mother today for lunch (that's her idea of how we should visit when I see her once every year or two--we spend an hour together having lunch in a restaurant).  I see my father tomorrow at a family gathering--that's the best way to see him. 

My dad's kind of funny--OK, I don't see him as a funny person but the funny thing about him is that he spends all his time with me telling me all about how wonderful my sisters are and telling me what I should do to be successful.  Here's the funny part--he does the same thing with them--so, they're hearing all the good things about me and I'm hearing all the good things about them.  I still have a ton of work I'm doing to get past my feelings of inadequacy but in the meantime, it's the least stressful to see him in a big group. 

I'm really looking forward to this trip.  Mike (that's my daughter's significant other) has actually taken time off work so he can spend time with me--he likes me--I REALLY like him, too.  Hurray!

Talk to you more as the trip progresses, I hope.

Flying First Class

A while back I promised I would tell you more about flying first class.  As I prepare for my coach flight o Minnesota I find myself reflecting back on that experience so here it is.

If you haven't done it before, you really should give it a try if you ever have the opportunity.  I was totally pampered for the whole flight.  Before we even took off the flight attendant was taking drink orders--oh, and there was no big clanky cart for us--no, the flight attendant (her name was Joan) took our orders and went up to the galley, prepared them, and brought them back on a little tray.  No little alcohol bottles for us--our drinks were made for us and served in glass glasses, not plastic. 

As soon as it was safe for the flight attendants to be out of their seats they were taking drink orders again.  I have to confess I didn't order a drink the first time around because I wasn't sure of the protacol and my seat partner (who REALLY didn't want to talk) wasn't ordering anything so I just waited and watched.  No money was changing hands so I decided there must not be a charge.  I wouldn't have minded paying for a drink but my money was in my briefcase and I didn't want to have to be digging for it.  Anyway, I finally ordered something to drink as Joan came around asking if we would like mixed nuts.  She had a stack of little ceramic bowls with perfectly straight sides so they would stack comfortably.  I said I would like some and she put the little bowl on my tray and it was hot--so were the nuts!  They were wonderful!  Oh, and there wasn't a peanut to be found in those mixed nuts.  No, just cashews, hazelnuts, and pistachios--how lovely.  Then it got better.  She came back around with little hot towels to wipe our greasy little fingers on.  How cool is that?

As Joan came around to pick up our little towels, she told us our choices for dinner.  I opted for the croissant with ham and cheese.  It came on a tray with a tiny tablecloth on it.  The sandwich was on a glass plate with a salad that had an artichoke heart, Greek olive, and a lovely Greek dressing.  There was real silverware and a tiny, little wine glass which Joan was more than happy to refill as often as we wanted with the wine she carried in napkin-wrapped bottles. 

Oh, and the seats were butter-soft leather, wide enough to be comfortable and far enough apart to be able to have at least six inches between my knees and the seat in front of me.  That meant the seats could actually recline quite a ways without interfering with the person behind.  It was more like I remember airplanes being when I first flew 30 years ago.  No, the seats weren't leather but they were five across where they are now six across and there was leg room so the seats could recline enough to notice the difference.

The final luxury was a plate of chocolate chip cookies still hot from the oven.  I don't think they were reheated because they were still soft and gooey in the middle but even if that was the case, they tasted freshly made and that really is all that counts, isn't it? 

After such a lovely meal and a couple of Baileys, I leaned back and napped for the last half of the trip.  It was quiet and.....I don't know how to say this but it had to do with not feeling surrounded by people.  There was enough "breathing room" that I didn't feel I couldn't move. 

I may never be content to fly coach again and the good news is that I know I will have enough money to fly first class whenever I really want to.  It's only money, after all, right?  If you ever get the chance, take advantage of it.

Enjoy!

Hyatt Regency Disaster!

(written 5/9)

The closer I get to my trip to Minnesota, the more I find myself thinking about my experience at the hotel in Chicago.  Actually, I have no idea why one has anything to do with the other but the closer I get to traveling, the more I think about the awful Hyatt Regency experience.  I don't like to hang on to cranky feelings--they do nothing but pull me down--so I do my best to let those thoughts go.  It's not working with this one! 

I've decided to get it all out and then I can just let it go and I don't have to think about it at all any more.  Is this lying to myself?  I don't know.  I wouldn't do it if I thought it was but I'm not very rational about this because I felt totally cheated.  OH, WAIT!  I just got an ah ha--actually a HUGE AH HA!!!.  It's the money!!! 

First I'll tell you the highlights of the disappointing aspects of the stay there (just the highlights, not all of it by any means).

• I had been told I was getting a 450 square foot, non-smoking room with 2 double beds.  They originally had me in a smoking room but they switched me to a non-smoking room that barely held a king-sized bed, desk, and dresser--no dining table, no occasional chair, miniature bathroom with a small shower and pedestal sink.
• I ordered the clam chowder from room service and when they brought it the clam chowder was full of tomatoes--Manhattan clam chowder.  I called them to complain that they didn't say it was that style and rather than saying they were sorry I misunderstood what the soup was, the woman on the other end of the phone said, "Well, that's what you ordered." 
• There was no free high speed Internet, either wired or wireless.  When I paid for the connection I discovered the connection worked in my room but not down where the conference was.
• There was a charge for the business center.
• There wasn't a single table in the lobby that I could use between the time I had to check out of my room and a reasonable time to take the shuttle to the airport.
• The website said there were several restaurants to choose from--that has been changed since I returned from Chicago--apparently it was out of date.  What they actually have is one over-priced cafe and a noisy bar that serves food.
• The conference center served an overpriced breakfast, lunch, and dinner for those of us who didn't want to try to get service in an undersized restaurant.  Fruit (a banana, an orange, or an apple) was $2.25.  A lukewarm, half-cooked, processed hamburger patty on a cold bun was $6.  The little bag of chips that went with it were $2.50.  A bottle of water was $2.75.  All of this was served on a paper plate and we got to stand in line to pay for it and for the first entire day we could go back into the conference room to eat in the same place we had been listening to speakers for the last 4 hours or stand.   After that they set up enough tables for 100 people (there were 1000 at the conference).
• The bed wasn't fully made the entire time I was there.  The first time I got into bed I removed the decorative pillows and a throw at the foot of the bed.  It was never put back the whole time I was there.  No, not a big thing but this is one of the things that got me thinking it was about the money.  More on that later.
• No DVD player in the TV and relatively limited television channels for viewing (I think there were about 10 channels available that didn't include sports, news, or shopping).  I was afraid to find out what it would cost to rent a movie.
• Oh, I should feel fortunate I flew in and didn't rent a car--the sign outside the entrances that parking was $28 a day!

Initially I was just upset that a hotel with such a giant reputation would nickel and dime their guests.  What finally hit me was that I thought that when I paid $200 a night for a room (that didn't include the 13% tax rate).  Actually, some of the nights the room was $239, some of them it was $199, and the few nights I was able to get at the conference rate were $179.  That's a lot of money no matter how you look at it. 

When I contrast this stay with the stay at the lovely hotel my daughter and I stayed at in Nashville, I think that may have been part of what had me upset.  In Nashville we stayed in a suite that had a huge bedroom and a living room with a sofa bed (actually, it was a very comfortable sofa bed).  There was an enormous bathroom with double sinks a big tub and a very generous closet.  There were dressers in both the living room and the bedroom with a television in each of the rooms.  The high speed wireless internet was free, there was a mini-fridge, microwave, and bar sink.  Actually, the atrium-style architecture was the same as the Hyatt with identical glass elevators.  The parking was free.  The staff was incredibly responsive and helpful.  For that we paid $100 a night!  I know Nashville isn't Chicago, that there may be a difference in the cost of hotel rates.  I am having a hard time imagining that much of a difference. 

Now, here's the dilemma.  What do I do now?  Do I tell myself that shoddy accommodations are just a fact of life and I shouldn't be upset that I paid so much for such poor service?  Is this because I am living in scarcity mode and I feel cheated because it cost so much for the room?  Hmmmm, interesting--I think many people would be comfortable knowing whether or not it makes sense to feel upset by what I experienced so I'm not sure why I don't.  This could be a good clue to some of my big issues--I just don't know what it's a clue to.  I'm going to have to keep all this in mind as I go through my growth process--no clue what it means but I'm glad I couldn't get it out of my head.  It was there for a reason other than feeling whiny about it.