I think about some things way too much. It is summer and I actually enjoy getting outside and working in the garden…weeding out what I don’t want and planting what I do want. While I am doing that, it is quiet. I tried taking my MP3 player and headphones out there to keep me occupied but I discovered I preferred not having something piped into my head constantly. I like being alone with my thoughts. After all, when I’m in the house or the car, I have someone seeking me out to constantly tell me EVERYTHING of interest to them. I love my family but what interests them, a lot, does not necessarily interest me and I don’t understand the fascination with so much talking. Both of my kids are constantly txting AND talking with friends and my husband talks with LOTS of ppl all the time…it’s part of his job.
Don’t get me wrong, I want to know what is uppermost in their minds and life…the keyword being ‘uppermost’. Cut to the chase. Keep it simple. I am just thankful for TiVo or I’d never be able to see/hear a whole show!
ANYWAY…these last few days I have been thinking about something that, ironically enough, our church youth pastor gave a sermon on yesterday: Not letting your past define you.
He used the examples of Judas and (Simon) Peter. Judas betrayed Jesus. He let his mistakes define him…and he ended up hanging himself. Peter denied Jesus and was distraught but instead of letting it take him down, he picked himself up and went on to minister and witness to hundreds of ppl.
For some reason I had started thinking back through my life and thinking about how I had changed and all the things that shaped me into the person I am. Some things I can’t explain and I guess there are just personality traits that you are born with and stuck with. Sometimes, there are personality traits that you try to change and it ends up causing other problems…kind of like trying to divert a river to flow somewhere else…while it may help out one piece of geography it will kill another piece and tip the eco-system.
I will probably start writing down bits and pieces of my life just so I can step back and look at it and see if I can figure out what has caused me to be who I am and decide what is okay to let define me and what I need to put in the trash bag and set by the curb.
I know, I know…I am 50 and why bother? Becuz, I have been concentrating on helping the ones I am closest to figure out what should define them and what needs to change for the past 30+ years and it is time I did that for me…becuz introspection is the hardest thing to do…becuz I am not dead yet and I figure I still have 25-30 years left in me (unless, of course, God decides it is time to pull the plug on this whole planet) and I want those years to be the best ones I can live.
Monday, May 30, 2011
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Internet Exercise
I will be doing stuff around the house and think of something that I want to write a blog post about...then when I DO get to a point where I sit down at the computer, darned if I remember what it was I wanted to write. I just do not 'do' computer so much anymore.
I have found myself to be a rebel about the whole computer thing lately. I have been irritated by the amount of 'connection' that there is and, therefore, since the thought of it all irritates me, I connect less. IPod, Iphone, IPad, blackberry, android, electronic notebook, skype, etc., etc. Twitter, Facebook, chat, IM, blogs, etc, etc. I never wanted to be THAT connected to the world! Sitting down with Robin Meade in the morning while I have my first cup of coffee while munching on a Special K Protein Meal Replacement bar is about all the connection to the world I would like.
I find that job hunting online and filling out applications online to be quite the money and time saver. It enables me to NOT get a job for free, now.
There is one tradition that hasn't totally died, yet...invitations in the mail. I received one in the mail from a cousin yesterday. Troy looked at it and asked who I knew in *Berkmire*. I shrugged and he handed me this invitation-like looking envelope and said, "oh, it must be a *Calimar* thing." He rolled his eyes and left. My *Calimar* relatives are the only ones that have enough family members that are ALWAYS having weddings, graduation open houses, baby showers, etc. And this is the snootiest one of the bunch. Her precious daughter is getting married. The daughter is somewhat of a disappointment to my cousin. Even though the daughter has gone through college (something my cousin failed to finish) and earned not only a BS in Education but her Master's also and is a principal of a nice school, the daughter dares to marry a *gasp* 'lowly' mechanic. (They aren't so 'lowly'! Have you seen the electronic equipment they have to learn how to use! ) AND the guy is Italian. (insert blank stare) My cousin is half Italian. I guess she does not care for the Italian side of her family?
The invitation clearly states it is 'adult only'. Will there be porn included or something? All I know is if I do not attend this wish-I'd-commmited-suicide family function then it would be worse than dissing the Royal Family Wedding. Troy says, "SO!" I said, "you just don't understand. I need to go. You don't HAVE to go. I will go by myself if need be." That last sentence I said with a down cast look and with a sad sigh in my voice. Of course, he then said, "no, no...I'll go. This is something you want to do so I'll go." works every time. :D
I figure if I have to suffer, he can too. He owes me.
So now I have 8 weeks to whittle my figure down. I am feeling one long stretch of Biggest Loser Last Chance Workouts. How many L Bs can I drop in 8 weeks? No, I will not burden myself. However, sometimes you just need a good REASON...I mean other than my lower back hating me. And other than stepping on the scale only to hear it creak as if it is going to burst at the seams. And other than my hips JUST managing to fit between the arms of the diningroom table chair. And other than...okay...y'all get the picture.
Here I go. If I don't check back in within a week, you can assume I'm dead.
I have found myself to be a rebel about the whole computer thing lately. I have been irritated by the amount of 'connection' that there is and, therefore, since the thought of it all irritates me, I connect less. IPod, Iphone, IPad, blackberry, android, electronic notebook, skype, etc., etc. Twitter, Facebook, chat, IM, blogs, etc, etc. I never wanted to be THAT connected to the world! Sitting down with Robin Meade in the morning while I have my first cup of coffee while munching on a Special K Protein Meal Replacement bar is about all the connection to the world I would like.
I find that job hunting online and filling out applications online to be quite the money and time saver. It enables me to NOT get a job for free, now.
There is one tradition that hasn't totally died, yet...invitations in the mail. I received one in the mail from a cousin yesterday. Troy looked at it and asked who I knew in *Berkmire*. I shrugged and he handed me this invitation-like looking envelope and said, "oh, it must be a *Calimar* thing." He rolled his eyes and left. My *Calimar* relatives are the only ones that have enough family members that are ALWAYS having weddings, graduation open houses, baby showers, etc. And this is the snootiest one of the bunch. Her precious daughter is getting married. The daughter is somewhat of a disappointment to my cousin. Even though the daughter has gone through college (something my cousin failed to finish) and earned not only a BS in Education but her Master's also and is a principal of a nice school, the daughter dares to marry a *gasp* 'lowly' mechanic. (They aren't so 'lowly'! Have you seen the electronic equipment they have to learn how to use! ) AND the guy is Italian. (insert blank stare) My cousin is half Italian. I guess she does not care for the Italian side of her family?
The invitation clearly states it is 'adult only'. Will there be porn included or something? All I know is if I do not attend this wish-I'd-commmited-suicide family function then it would be worse than dissing the Royal Family Wedding. Troy says, "SO!" I said, "you just don't understand. I need to go. You don't HAVE to go. I will go by myself if need be." That last sentence I said with a down cast look and with a sad sigh in my voice. Of course, he then said, "no, no...I'll go. This is something you want to do so I'll go." works every time. :D
I figure if I have to suffer, he can too. He owes me.
So now I have 8 weeks to whittle my figure down. I am feeling one long stretch of Biggest Loser Last Chance Workouts. How many L Bs can I drop in 8 weeks? No, I will not burden myself. However, sometimes you just need a good REASON...I mean other than my lower back hating me. And other than stepping on the scale only to hear it creak as if it is going to burst at the seams. And other than my hips JUST managing to fit between the arms of the diningroom table chair. And other than...okay...y'all get the picture.
Here I go. If I don't check back in within a week, you can assume I'm dead.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Numbering My Days
I have spent the last few days helping my son wade through some sticky algebra. Some of it was new to me and the book he had didn't fully explain things. Since I am not in his class, I could not be there to hear how the instructor explained it and he doesn't write down words...only formulas (the same ones in the book) so his notes were of no help to me. I had to go online. Even then, there was a not a full explanation of things.
Projectile formula. FINALLY, after 3 days, I got to the 'OH!" moment. I now get it. I could explain to him how they reached the number they did for how long the projectile was in the air...and what the two 'answers' meant. One is the projectile going up...the other is the projectile going down. Add both numbers together to get the amount of time the projectile was in the air. I know that sounds simplistic but you first have to find the highest point the projectile reached. The rest is all relative. And I am RUSTY at this. I loved it though!
Then there was this one word problem. I did it 4 times. Set it up wrong the first three times becuz I just wasn't thinking through the wording correctly. Got completely frustrated and pushed it aside. I am not one to give up. I knew if I walked away and did something else then went back and read it anew it would come to me. I was right. Wrote down the formula correctly and it was a piece of cake after that.
I think getting my math masters will leave me bald.
My son does know what he's doing. He just has to stop and think...I told him he knows and he just has to take his time and think it through...like I had to that word problem that was kicking my butt. AND like the projectile formula (btw...that makes me think of the projectile vomiting of formula that my son did as a newborn...I wonder if I could have written out a formula to figure out how long the formula would stay down and how far he would launch it after it came back up? I had to switch to soy formula)
He is already getting anxious about his next algebra class that he has to take this summer...then the trig class in the fall. Personally, I get excited thinking about it. I am a world class geek. yikes.
Projectile formula. FINALLY, after 3 days, I got to the 'OH!" moment. I now get it. I could explain to him how they reached the number they did for how long the projectile was in the air...and what the two 'answers' meant. One is the projectile going up...the other is the projectile going down. Add both numbers together to get the amount of time the projectile was in the air. I know that sounds simplistic but you first have to find the highest point the projectile reached. The rest is all relative. And I am RUSTY at this. I loved it though!
Then there was this one word problem. I did it 4 times. Set it up wrong the first three times becuz I just wasn't thinking through the wording correctly. Got completely frustrated and pushed it aside. I am not one to give up. I knew if I walked away and did something else then went back and read it anew it would come to me. I was right. Wrote down the formula correctly and it was a piece of cake after that.
I think getting my math masters will leave me bald.
My son does know what he's doing. He just has to stop and think...I told him he knows and he just has to take his time and think it through...like I had to that word problem that was kicking my butt. AND like the projectile formula (btw...that makes me think of the projectile vomiting of formula that my son did as a newborn...I wonder if I could have written out a formula to figure out how long the formula would stay down and how far he would launch it after it came back up? I had to switch to soy formula)
He is already getting anxious about his next algebra class that he has to take this summer...then the trig class in the fall. Personally, I get excited thinking about it. I am a world class geek. yikes.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)