Are You There? It’s Me, Harriet

Capitol Reef Fruit Orchard_feistyharriet_March 2015 (1)

Hello?

Hello.

Hi.

[awkward, embarrassed silence]

Um, how’ve you been? How’s things? How’s your Mom/sweetheart/puppy?

Oh good. Cool. Cool cool cool. Uh, yeah…same…?

I’ve been staring at this blank page for weeks trying to will myself to fill it up with something haunting and beautiful, or witty and funny, or angry and therapeutic. And all I can come up with is “Hello. Hi.” I guess sometimes that’s really the best place to start, sometimes it’s the only place to start.

A blank page is truly the best and most exciting thing about writing, and also the most terrifying.

Exciting and terrifying; such a killer combo.

I know it’s not New Year’s Resolutions time around the Internets, but let’s just pretend that I’m fashionably late to that particular party, okay>? I decided that my mantra for 2018 will be about self care, about putting my needs and my concerns first. I’m not necessarily talking about bath bombs and spa retreats (although I wouldn’t run away from either of those things), but about giving myself realistic goals and expectations, and saying “No” to everything else. Basically, if I am not 95% HELL YES! on any given decision, my answer will be “No,” “No, thank you,” or possibly “Get the hell out.” I’m absolutely done with half-assing anything and feeling guilty about it, I’ve been practicing saying “no” (I still kind of suck at it, but I’m trying) and I’ve been careful about what I say yes to. This will not be an easy lesson for me to learn, but I am convinced it’s one I desperately need. I also need to practice letting go of unnecessary feelings of guilt, which is something I’ve been perfecting holding on to for my whole damn life. So, let’s perhaps only expect baby steps in that department, mmmmkay?

Exciting and terrifying. Saying yes to the things that will really matter, and saying no to a lot of things that may also matter but, ultimately, will matter less.

…..

I think that’s it for now. Apparently, I also need to practice writing blog posts? I mean, I legit had to do a gmail search to remember how/where to log on to even write a post. I’ve missed this space; the more time went by, the more I missed it. This little corner of the internet is, for me, a HELL YES! Not a HELL YES! EVERYDAY! HELL YES! because I just do not have that kind of bandwidth anymore (or ever), but something in-between “everyday” and “one post every six months.” Yes, let’s shoot for that.

Also? I’ve missed you. I’m not even going to look at my feed reader (it’s been months, I need to just open it, clear all news posts, and start over), so please leave me a link of whatever has been going on in your life lately, something you’re proud of, something that was really hard, something hilarious, a trip, a recipe, a darling picture of your kid/cat. I’m here. And I’m not going to be going away anytime soon.

Unzipped

Boone Hall Butterfly Pavilion, South Carolina

Hi.

Hi, hi.

Last time we spoke I was in this strange, but not-entirely-unusual-for-me place of feeling totally and completely paralyzed. Not, like, technically (but, I certainly wasn’t getting my steps in every day), but this overwhelming feeling of being…stuck. I know perfectly well how to run, it just feels like my feet are stuck in cement.

Well, turns out, perhaps the most efficient way for me to get un-stuck is to have my legs kicked out from under me with a not-at-all graceful face plant. And with that, I unzipped my paralyzed suit, stepped out, and my mind and body quickly remembered how to fly, how to run.

Like anyone who hasn’t been working out regularly, it will take a little while for me to fight back the atrophied muscles and build up my endurance, but soon I’ll be running a 6-minute mile again.

Uh, that’s a big huge lie. I have never once run a 6-minute mile, nor do I intend to. I’m more of a 12-minute mile kind of girl.

Also, I’m not really talking about running here. That’s a life metaphor. But it’s also kind of factual. In the last week I’ve been to the gym 4 times and that is 4 times more than I have shown up in the previous three months. I’m making lists and plans like a madwoman and finally feel like I can breathe a little better.

I know that kind of vaguely talking about feeling stuck, and then bringing up a kind of horrible running metaphor for being un-stuck is not exactly blog du jour, but this is me, the good and the bad and the ugly and the broken, all just trying to make it through.

Paralyzed

Firstly, I’m not actually paralyzed, all fingers and toes work perfectly fine, but thank you for your concern.

Secondly, I am totally paralyzed, but I’m not 100% sure the cause. I’m not sure if it’s a weird case of writer’s block, or just a super normal droll case of writer’s block. I can write in my journal just fine, I can write lengthy emails to friends just fine, but when it comes to this space I am…stuck? Afraid? Both? Something else? All of the above?

You know that quote “A rolling stone gathers no moss” which basically means that an object at motion stays in motion and an object at rest stays at rest (thanks, Einstein), and it takes a significant amount of energy to get that rock rolling, or to stop it completely, but much less energy to keep it going along at whatever level of kinetic energy it is currently assigned…? Yeah, Einstein probably said it much better, but I’m not Einstein, so you get stuck with my paraphrasing.

I had all these goals and plans, and then Things Happened and I lost my mojo; I haven’t been going to the gym, I haven’t been writing here, I haven’t been doing many of the things that I love…and I’m starting to feel a literal strain, or tangible atrophy, that I’m not exercising those physical and mental muscles. I often have said that the hardest part of working out for me is just getting out the door, if I can do that I’m fine, but it is SO HARD for me to lace up my shoes and get my butt out the door. My mental lack of willpower is strong, yo. It’s tragic I can’t always harness it for positive forward movement. The hardest part of writing is that first paragraph on a blank page. As soon as I get my stone rolling I’m off like lightning, but that start? Ooouff. It’s a toughie for me.

Vacation re-entry would be easier with more fish tacos

Caye Caulker Belize 1_feistyharriet_April 2017

A few weeks ago Mr. Blue Eyes and I took the most lovely, long-planned and saved for vacation, we spent most of our time on a tiny Caribbean island, lots of hammocks and fish tacos and scuba diving; and then we hopped inland to visit some Mayan ruins before the sad-to-be-leaving-but-looking-forward-to-proper-AC-and-Diet-Dr-Pepper flight home.

And while I am not lounging beach-side or feasting on ridiculously cheap fresh-caught fish, I still kind of feel like I’m on vacation. The weeks leading up to our adventure were crazy stressful for both of us, mostly in a general Life Is Stressful way, but also with trying to make sure to have everything we needed taken care of for this big adventure. Life is still a little stressful, but not NEARLY what it was, and we are both literally glowing from spending a week in the Caribbean. Well, Blue Eyes is glowing and golden; I’m mostly just covered in sand fly bites that make me look like I have some kind of pox.

This may be surprising (but it totally shouldn’t be), but I can be super Type A, and I planned this vacation out like crazy. We don’t have the luxury of extra time, but do have the luxury of a little extra money, so we planned to spend our money in ways to maximize our time (meaning all travel was pre-booked, even down to the golf-cart taxi to take us and our luggage from the ferry to our Caribbean AirBnB). I spent the two or three weeks before we left finalizing all those little travel details on top of making sure our technology was all in order (cameras charged, memory cards emptied, details on phone use while abroad notated), ordering foreign currency for two countries, trying to memorize the exchange rates (2:$1 / 7.333:$1), making sure our credit and debit cards wouldn’t get flagged for fraud if we needed to use them, finalizing travel insurance, printing out every. single. confirmation. in triplicate, just in case, having the post office hold our mail while we were gone, asking a kind neighbor to come babysit my plants and make sure they didn’t shrivel and die, packing my suitcase and then re-packing my suitcase several times, having lengthy conversations with my sister on what shorts or cover ups I could leave home without missing (she was right on every single one) and what would be essential to my happiness, buying waterproof mascara and stocking up on sunscreen (I went through 3 full size tubes in one week, SPF 85, SPF 45, and SPF 30, and that is a post all by itself)…you know, the usual.

Or, maybe that is 100% not The Usual when people go on a big vacation, and maybe it was part of the reason why the weeks leading up to our trip were kind of stressful? Whatever, that pre-planning made our week away SO much more relaxed and we ended up coming in significantly under budget because I had a 15 oz bottle of SPF 85 IN MY SUITCASE and didn’t have to spend $20 dollars for a 4 oz tube, or, maybe $80 dollars for four 4 oz tubes (and $80 more for SPF 45, and $80 more for SPF 30, and, and, and…).

We’ve been back for a week or two and life is mostly back to normal…kind of. I mean, I still honestly feel like I’m on a part-time vacation. Let me explain: I still go to work, I still take care of my garden, I still make dinner and do the washing up and on Saturday I had the tremendously glamorous job of shampooing the family room rug and furniture, which is the epitome of Not A Vacation-y Experience. However, for the most part, life is easy-breezy. I’m not going to the gym every night in anticipation (uh, dread) of spending a week in a swimming suit; I’m not cutting out all sugar and carbs and happiness anymore; my To Do list is short and mostly unimportant… I spend my evenings reading…and slowly am going through and editing my photos…and, uh, hanging out on the patio and enjoying the last of the semi-pleasant weather…? I mean, I honestly feel like I’m still on vacation a little bit. And I’m afraid if I start writing about it here it will break the spell.

Dammit, I probably ruined it; it’s 1:24 am and my body is not at all interested in sleeping despite work as usually in the morning, and maybe that means the vacation spell is broken now anyway? I don’t know, but it is nice to stretch my write-y muscles here again, fish tacos or not, I’ve missed this little corner of my world.

So, what’s been up with you? Fill me in on everything.

A Day In The Life: Last Friday

It’s been forever since I did one of these posts detailing the minutia of my day. I love reading other people’s schedules and thoughts and opinions, so here it goes. A Day in The Life of Harriet:

Thursday:
9:45 pm: Plow through sorely neglected feed reader, see Lacey’s post, consider doing “A Day in the Life.” Also manage to reduce unread posts from 769 to a more respectable 13 unread. Yes, entire categories were marked “read all”….which is precisely why I put my blogs into categories: Favorites/Comments; Cooking; Fashion; Design; Not Girly Blogs; Trial Run; Travel; Mildly Entertaining; Family. (That first category is the one that gets 95% of my attention, always, the others are often skimmed for titles and then marked as read.)

10:30 pm: Shower, brush teeth, pick out clothes and shoes for tomorrow like a 7-year-old all excited for the first day of school (all three of these things are a must every night or my mornings are shot).

11:15 pm: Sleep.

Friday
6:15 am: pssst. alarm, here, time to wake up
6:20 am: Ahem. Alarm.
6:23 am: Alarm!
6:30 am: ALARM!
6:33 am: ALARMALARMALARM!

6:35 am: ALRIGHT I GET IT I’M AWAKE YOU ALARM MONSTER! Scroll Twitter with only one eye open, internally fighting with myself to simultaneously get out of bed already and just curl up and go back to sleep.

6:47 am: Sync my Magic Bracelet (ahem, Fitbit) (I swear I’m not 7 years old!) which tells me that I was awake 6 times and restless 32 times, which is a pretty typical night for me. (I know.)

6:50 am: Out of bed, get ready, use curling iron to de-wrinkle the collar and placket of my button-up shirt. I don’t remember the last time I used an iron for this task. (Judgey eyebrows down, please.)

7:17 am: Make bed before heading downstairs. I am constantly surprised at how much easier this is when your room is large enough to allow more than 18″ on ONE side of the mattress…but I still miss my Salt Lake apartment, tiny rooms and all.

7:20 am: Leave for work. It’s a “late morning” because Friday traffic is so much lighter than the rest of the week (I usually leave between 7:05 and 7:10 am).
Commute: Finish listening to audiobook I Know How She Does It by Laura Vanderkam and decide a Day in the Life post is definitely in order. Also, decide Laura Vanderkam probably has no idea how most women live and work and “do it all.” Roll my eyes a bit. Or a lot.

8:00 am: Arrive at work. Order my usual Friday breakfast burrito from the cafe in my building (ham, egg and cheese, no potato) go up to my office while they make it, boot up computer, find address and stamp for a snail-mail card to my niece, walk back downstairs to mail letter and pick up breakfast.

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8:10 am: Scroll email, no fires to put out, so that’s good. Categorize and prioritize what needs attention first, color-code for reference.

8:15 am: Conversation with co-worker about upcoming annual report…blergh.

8:30 am: Start notes for this log, also first caffeine of the day. Diet Dr. Pepper 4EVAH! Also, it goes swimmingly with a morning breakfast burrito. Don’t judge.

8:35 am: Water plants in my office, I love having live plants AND a big sunny window to keep them happy.

8:40 am: Prep for weekly one-on-one with boss.

9:00 am: …twiddling my thumbs, boss is on phone call…answer a few emails.

9:15 am: FINALLY! Meeting with boss.

10:10 am: Ack! My meeting went long (was supposed to be only 30 mins) AND was delayed and now I’m late for my next thing. Rush out to XYZ High School where I’m volunteering at an event for the program I manage. Check in with site coordinator and get assigned to a computer lab where I will be helping students with college and FAFSA applications. The vast majority of students at this school live below the poverty line, which in Arizona means a family of 4 surviving on less than $22,000 per year.  I had a good conversation and experience with one girl in particular, her Mom never reached 9th grade and is a single parent who supports herself and 4 kids on $17,689/year. (!!!!) This girl has a 3.65 and wants to become a nurse, she’s got the grades to get into any program she wants, and she has the determination to finish it.

12:20 pm: Leave high school, still thinking about this girl and her family. Five people on less than $18k per year total! There are thousands like her in Phoenix. THOUSANDS! And hundreds of thousands more like her around the country. I wish I could help them all! (This is the part of my job that I love the most, btw. Seeing the program I administer make a difference in a student’s life trajectory.)

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12:30 pm: Lunch and a book–a full lunch break is essential for me to be productive at all during the afternoon. Veggie burger, sweet potato fries, and a giant Diet Coke (don’t judge). I’m reading The Warmth of Other Suns by Isabel Wilkerson and am learning so much about the Great Migration of black families from the South to industrial cities in the North and West and some of the historical situations that current racial tensions are based on throughout the United States. (*I tend to only order veggie-versions of burgers these days, unless I’m making it myself.) (Make mental note to bring lunches more often next week, even veggie burgers are expensive.)

1:30 pm: Back at the office: churn out a draft agenda for a huge Commission meeting next week; emails to all high school counselors who work on our programs; 30 minute conversation with brand new high school, getting them up to speed; figure out some storage and spacing issues with our Executive Assistant; finalize press release for my program; approve scheduled social media for the next 2 weeks.

3:45 pm: Holy crap! Where did the afternoon go! Quick break to walk around the block while I scroll Twitter and Instagram.

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4:00 pm: Back to the grind. A little more follow-up and planning for next week. When I started at this job I inherited two full-time interns when I really only have work for one part-time intern…it’s been a struggle to keep them busy and engaged in meaningful work. Wrap up my last “To Do’s” for the week, tidy up my desk (meaning: stack the piles of papers nicely), and spend 10 minutes with the interns being social, not their boss (asking about their weekend, his class and project, her boyfriend coming home from Iraq, etc).

5:00 pm: OUTTA HERE! Starting a new book for my drive home, Nefertiti by Michelle Moran. I’m on a “women who rule” kick lately, I thought this would fit the bill nicely. A few minutes in I can’t help but feel a little disappointed that it is clearly historical fiction and not an actual biography. Sigh.

5:50 pm: Arrive home. Mr Blue Eyes and I have decided to have an “at home” date night, dinner is grilled salmon and a big salad made out of fresh-picked lettuce from the backyard garden.

6:00 pm: Lettuce picking! I have 12 little lettuce plants (variety of types), 9 spinach blobs, and 1 overabundant kale plant. I pick leaves from everything to keep it producing. I also trim the basil (heaps of it!), oregano, cilantro, and thyme, by the time I am done my largest bowl is a tower of carefully balanced greenery.

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6:15 pm: Carefully wash all the leaves and pat them dry, send Blue Eyes to the store for a tomato and an avocado.

6:25 pm: Chop the rest of the salad stuffs: green onion, tomato, bell pepper, mushrooms, almonds.

6:30 pm: Blue Eyes puts the salmon on the grill (mine with sliced lemon, his without), I start chopping and tearing up the now-dry lettuce leaves.

6:40 pm: Dinner! Seriously, this is delicious. Hello, SALAD! Big Bang Theory reruns are playing in the background.

7:00 pm: Dishes, including the pans, turn on the dishwasher (I do all the dishes every night, no matter what. I loathe a dirty kitchen in the morning!).

7:15 pm: We have decided to go camping tomorrow night, he’s researching some hikes, beautiful vistas, and campgrounds while I’m making cooking plans and packing lists. Flagstaff and Sedona both promise cooler weather (like, in the 30’s overnight!) and possibly some leaf colors! Swoooon!

8:00 pm: Netflix movie Tallulah which is…not a light-hearted comedy. What the what!?

10:00 pm: Get ready for bed. (Tomorrow is Saturday so I don’t have to lay out my clothes, but you better believe I have considered which of my favorite comfy t-shirts will be gracing my body in the morning.) (Please, stop judging me!)

10:20 pm: I have an unexplained and unexpected major emotional thing and panic/anxiety attack…trying to measure my breathing and count my heart beats….

10:45 pm: Still feeling shaky, I won’t be sleeping anytime soon. Blue Eyes is snoring (his day starts WAY earlier than mine, and he is patting my hand while he snores), so I carefully ninja my way out of bed so not to disturb him and go into my little studio/former office to use my oil paints while listening to that Nefertiti book.

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1:05 am: Painting is done, time to wash out my brushes. I carefully sneak down the stairs so Blue Eyes doesn’t wake up and think I’m a burglar.

1:18 am: Upstairs and crawl into bed; finally exhausted enough to sleep.

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