an afternoon.

I am eavesdropping on a conversation about Starbucks. And since I am in a locally owned coffee shop, the tone is inevitably negative. I understand, completely. I agree, mostly. And that's what is sad. How am I able to continue there knowing that there is a moral conflict that goes on within? I guess because the bills must be paid, and I am not fond of a desk job, and they have great benefits, and I love my boss, and the moral conflict has to do with the integrity of coffee and small business and not murder. But, I can't continue for much longer, this I know. My patience with having to explain the difference between a frappuccino blended coffee and frappuccino blended creme is wearing thin.

I have been batting with insecurity in leaving this place for the land of the morning calm, as you know, for the past few weeks. Teaching English to Korean children was my way out of this corporate giant mess. But it isn't anymore, for now. I don't have the emotional energy to go into the details at this juncture in the day. I just know that it's not time to leave Tulsa. I should know, and I don't. So I am not.

Which means, and you would know this already if you are inclined to deductive reasoning, that I must find a new way out. In other words, a different job.

I enjoy the setting if a university, and building relationships with people, and work that is about people and not the bottom line, or increasing productivity, or escalating sales. There is a possible position coming available for a residential director, the person that oversees the RA's, among other things, at TU. I would really enjoy that, and I am going to apply.

In reference to my decision to stay here for a while longer, and my reluctance to let go of this blissful season of life, I am excited about spending the summer in my house, with my roommates. I love love love my house, and as shallow as this may appear, don't be fooled, because it isn't; I want to spend all four seasons in that house. That lovely old house that is the age of 96.I also want to savor the time with the roommates that I become more thankful for with each day that passes. My mom sent me some pictures of shoes of mine that she was going to get rid of, asking if there were any that I wanted to keep. When I looked at the picture, these shoes and the feelings I got when I looked at them, were reminiscent of the feelings I feel when I think of summer spent here.

want.

It should be simple, as the only thing I really need to worry about is what I want to do. What do you do when you want two things that exist on different continents in equal amounts? One is extremely comforting and is full of laughter and continual blessings and friendships that continue to grow. The other is full of change and adventure and financial freedom and an existing friendship and possible new friends too. And so when someone looks at me and says that my choice should be based on what I want to do, I just get confused.

my very own soundtrack.

The thing I am loving about this is that I can write whenever and whatever I want. It doesn't even have to be good. And some would encourage me to write it all, post it all, as that is how we fine tune our craft, by repetition and seeing mistakes in print and doing it different the next time.

I am listening to The Scientist by Coldplay. And it is my favorite song of theirs, ever. Lyrically, to me, it's beautiful and tragic and difficult and real, and deeply, who wouldn't love being apologized to because they are unaware of how lovely they are? Musically, it's has some really great guitar moments. And something in the combination of those two factors gets to me. It's like when I was eating brownies in the living room a few nights ago and a Ray LaMontagne song came on as I was taking my first bite, and I almost shuddered. The combination of Ray and homemade chocolaty goodness somehow exemplified my aloneness. I quickly reminded myself that I was actually surrounded by some of my very best friends at that exact moment, and so I got over it.

Now Alanis Morissette is singing Mary Jane and when I was a girl I had an affinity for this song because Mary Jane and I have the same initials. And the song addresses honesty, which I love. One of the lines in the song says, "I hear you're losing weight again Mary Jane. You ever wonder who you're losing it for?" There was a time when my life spoke of that truth, and I did wonder, and couldn't answer.

My alarm continues to go off, because I had it set for ten AM, and I got up earlier than that, and made blueberry pancakes that almost made me cry. And as I sit here, I refuse to get up from the table to turn the damn thing off, because I am comfortable and in the middle of something and thanks to my itunes music library and the volume button on my computer, I can't really hear my alarm anyway. It's similar to what you hear when someone says your name and you look around to find out who it was, and there isn't anyone there, which means you imagined it. So Ingrid Michaelson, and December Baby, thank you for making the end of your song so chaotic that it helps drowned out the terrible sound of my alarm in the other room.

Song over. I can hear it again. Time to get up, return to reality, and turn it off.

the end.

The day was tiring.
Getting up before the sun comes out chips away at the potential goodness my day.
But a nap on the couch with the sun shining through the window onto my tired body is life giving.

I love hidden tracks on albums.
Little surprises crafted with care, tucked behind one of your old favorites.
I love surprises, and music, so it's no surprise that I would love musical surprises.

I had the worst shift of my life at work this morning.
Everything that could go wrong did, in the middle of an extremely long rush, and all happening while I tried desperately to contain my very small, very full bladder.
The kicker: it all took place with both of Tulsa's district managers in line watching me like a hawk, one of which was telling me what I should be doing while I was barely getting by.

My roommate Tonia is going to look at a car tomorrow.
It's an old Volvo, which is full of character.
And for her it is more than a car, it is freedom, and no more bus with creepy characters.

Wednesday is burger night at McNellies, which means they are three bucks.
Tonight was a night of cheddar cheese burgers, pub fries, and a $2.66 beer, totaling $6.80.
Cheap good food + priceless good friends = goodness.

I am sitting here ready for bed, halfway there.
Earlier, while watching the bbc version of Pride and Prejudice with Mary, I was yawning those deep, uncontrollable yawns, likely because of the getting up before dark I mentioned earlier.
Which is why now, I shall pull myself away from the enticing macbook, and dangerous internet, and, as my dear Aunt Mae would say, "rest my eyes".

masquerade

The second post of the day, different in nature and content than post one. Unnecessary information.

Since it is Tuesday and the common working man does not have Tuesdays off, I decided I would pretend that I am young woman who also happens to be the recipient of an inheritance, which also happens to be a large sum of money. And because my finances are taken care of, I can spend my time writing, and eating blackberry muffins for breakfast at the local coffee shop, where I enjoy crafting stories about life, common and uncommon, because it is my nature, and also because there is such a demand for the people of the world to read the tales I produce. And then, since it is my Tuesday, I decide to have an overpriced lunch with friends where we simply savor the food and wine and each other's company. Concluding my day would be a massage, which is a bi-weekly thing for me, given to me by, yes, you guessed it, the masseuse of all masseuse's, Kojac. Filling my evening would be a lovely dinner of freshly caught salmon, made by the chef that lives in my winter house, as it is still winter, and not yet time for me to return to my summer home. which brings us to evening, late evening, and the beckoning of my bed, where I fall asleep, and wake up in reality...Where...

I do have Tuesday off, but only because I work on Saturday, the day that the common working man stays home. I do have the blackberry muffin, which is tasty, but not without the reality that the money I spend on it is a section of what little I have. I do have lunch with friends, at El Chico, a wonderful place to consume imitation Mexican food, and terrible lunch special margaritas. The massage is real, too, but because it was a gift from a friend, and also will be the first of my life. Dinner will happen, but will be prepared by my hands, in the one home I have. And sleep, yes.

The shining part of the story is that given the choice, I would choose reality. I work hard, and sincerely appreciate the time I do have off. The muffin, made from whole and unrefined ingredients, was worth every penny. Lunch could not have been better, as there was fresh guacamole, the bad margarita will only help me appreciate all the more the actual good ones that I hope will fill my future...And the company of family makes the taste of the food and drink the secondary issue, as their love and desire to spend time with me is what I really value. The massage is kind of a big deal because it was a gift, given to me from a thoughtful friend and kindred spirit, and we are getting them together...The enjoyment that about to be experienced, post two jobs and many hours of standing on my feet, will be well worth the wait. And the good news about dinner is that I love to cook and love to have people to cook for. And my home? I love my home, and only ever need one. After the joy of my day, filled with goodness and simple pleasures and people that I love, rest will be an easy thing to attain. And that is why, given the choice, I would choose reality. Though it's still fun to pretend.

mulling it over, again.

Sometimes, when questions arise, it's best to go back to a point that anchored you sometime before. Fear will come, and happen, whenever there is impending change. And I don't want to make my decisions in life from a place of fear. I don't want to not do something because it kind of scares me. In fact, it's more accurate to say I want to do something because it kind of scares me, because you know what that means? It means some kind of growth is inevitable! And I love growth.

I said this in a post that I titled "Clarity"...was it? After rereading it all, me thinks yes.

"And the other reason I love the way that all of this talk impacts my future: My ultimate hope, as stated earlier, is to be a really great mom. When my son or daughter has grown too big for me to hold them in my arms, and then grown big enough to realize how big the world is, and they tell me that they want to move to South Africa or New York City or Mexico for whatever reason that stirs their heart, I want to be able to look back on my life and my experience, and tell them how much I will miss them, and also to go for it. And so I am not just making this choice for me, but also for that little being that all of me will greatly effect."

That wasn't the only paragraph that got me, but maybe the most true in regards to how the decision impacts my future, a future I feel so very strong about.

Truths:
I don't want to spend my life at Starbucks much longer.
I can't think of a job I want to do instead that would lead to anything else.
I would like to go back to school; culinary school, or pastry school, or for writing, or law school (a new thought)), or some kind of psychology, or for LIterature, or, have I said writing yet?
I don't want to go back to school until I have paid off some of my student loans.
I can't pay off my student loans with the amount of money I currently make.
I love other cultures.
I love challenges.
I have no real ties here that would keep me from going somewhere else, and I know that deep down the tie I am still barely holding on to is not right for the now.
I crave change, get excited about the unknown.
I don't want to be complacent.

so the question: how can I not?
the reality: it isn't/wasn't a fleeting notion.
the deciding factor, in light of the truths and fears: what do I want?

thoughts from any of my readers that help me see outside of my own scope? would be appreciated. If you know me, you know this about me: I love giving my opinions. what you may not know: I like reading yours.

must be shared

I just need to type this, because the loveliness of this moment is too sweet to just be experienced alone. And thanks to my blog, I don't have to.

The rain is pouring down on the ground, heavy enough to be fighting with my sweet simple music for attention. Thunder sounds in the distance I can't see. Clean room, from a day of throwing stuff that I didn't need away, in clean cotton pajamas, typing on my clean computer, abound to slide my recently shaven legs into a bed of clean sheets. More thunder. All of these pieces of my evening, that must be savored, also happen to be taking place on my favorite day of the week.

Could say more wonderful things about my Sunday, but I don't want those details to cloud how simply alive the above moment made me feel.

Peace to you, friends.