Thank goodness for road rage, junk food, and Jesus

I'm starting to develop road rage. I never understood why people felt the need to flip a rude gesture or scream in frustration while driving but the fog has begun to lift. I drive nearly an hour and 1/2 everyday to work (one way). It's suppose to be only a 50ish minute drive but with the traffic through the tunnels it takes an extra 40 minutes of what I call "mind-numbing-radio-blaring-people-cutting-me-off-and-cutting-in-line-huge-buses-being-pushy-rainy-break-light-hell".

I started off this commute with a pretty pleasant attitude. "Its only until July", "Some days traffic is lighter", "If I want to live in Quip and have an awesome service position I have to do this"...these are the thoughts from the early days of the commute. I let people in front of me, I quietly accepted stupid drivers, I laughed at stopped traffic, I left early to beat the rush and I sang and danced along with the radio.

Those thoughts quickly turned into these..."I'm only going to let a couple of people in front of me today", "I wish people would stop breaking in the tunnels", "Ah, why did that guy DO THAT...oh well maybe he was late for work". At this point I was less pleasant but still singing to the radio, shrugging at bad driving, and considering an apartment closer to the city.

>>>fast forward to today>>> "AH WHY IS THAT GUY AN IDIOT", "I CAN'T SEE YOU TRYING TO CUT IN FRONT OF ME...I CAN ONLY SEE THE BUMPER OF THE GUY IN FRONT OF ME!", "RAIN! WHY DOES IT ALWAYS RAIN HERE!?!?!", "ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGG!!!". Lets just say today's drive wasn't pleasant. A small ball of anger started welling up inside of me and suddenly I just began SCREAMING in my car. The screams that came out of me where like that of a dying animal. It just erupted. And then I began to sob.


Life is frustrating.


It wasn't just the traffic that caused what I call a "mental meltdown" but it's also the apartment to take care of, the bills that I never seem to have enough money to cover, the time I never seem to have, the lack of sleep, the lack of heat in my car, the bad weather, the leaky facet in the bathroom, the messed up social welfare system, the stress of trying to get my AmeriCorps hours in, missing my grandpa, missing my family, the stress of maintaining friendships, the occasional loneliness, the monotonous of life's routines, the people that seem to have it all together...to cut this short it's a lot of things.

But I have an incredibly great life. And I was ashamed of crying because of all the great things I have, I was ashamed because it's Christmas and I'm suppose to be filled with joy, I'm ashamed because others (like the homeless guy on 376) have it much, much, much worse. I tried to wipe my eyes before I went in my apartment. I didn't want to admit to my housemates that life just is wearing me out.

Now that I have some time to calm down I'm feeling much better (the Oreos and milk helped). And I decided to admit to my weariness on here because I decided that I shouldn't be ashamed of this. I shouldn't dwell in it for long but I shouldn't be ashamed of it. I'm just a human being and I'm bound to melt down sometimes. I suppose that's why God gave us friends, family, junk food and Jesus. And I'm thankful that he did because otherwise these meltdowns would happen by the hour.

Life is infuriating but life is incredibly good.



Enter, breath; Breath, slip out; Blood, be channeled, And wind about. O, blessed breath and blood which strive To keep this body of mine alive! O gallant breath and blood Which choose To wage the battle They must lose. -ogden nash

Grandpa

So much has been going on that I haven't had a moment to {stop. think. reflect.} in the past couple of weeks. But I had an overwhelming desire to blog on my commute home this evening...and here I find myself. My life has been turned upside down recently. I had to say good bye to my beloved grandpa this month. He was 82 and was diagnosed (for the 2nd time) with cancer about a month ago. We all knew it was coming and I've been preparing myself and my heart the phone call. I even got to go home a few weeks before and spend an entire afternoon with him, we watched football, talked about PA and joked around...that was my goodbye...and he was so sick that I knew he was frustrated being trapped in his body. He was ready to go. He drew his last breaths to the sounds of "Amazing Grace" sang by my mom, brother, and grandma. I can't hear that song without breaking into tears. I loved him very, very much. I definitely got my sense of humor from him. After my car accident this spring I called him up and the first thing he said to me after "hello" was "Well, I got some utility poles around here if you need something else to hit..." AND I always had plenty of potassium in my system when I visited him...he loved bananas and I ate countless of them at his kitchen table growing up. The grown-ups use to sit outside in these old metal chairs under this huge maple tree at his house while us kids would run around in the yard and get water from the old water pump that always had a tin cup hanging from it. He use to take me to the barn when I was little and show me the tiny piglets and he would always warn me that the sows would bite my arm off if I went too close...I never did. On 1st grade "Pet Day" all the other kids had their parents bring in their dogs and hamsters and Grandpa went along with my scheme to bring in one of those piglets. That thing squealed so loud and kept trying to wiggle away but Grandpa still brought it. He never let a conversation go on too long and always left a party when he thought it should be done. Every year my family still puts on a Thanksgiving play because Grandpa loved to yell "Squanto!" when my little brother entered the "stage" dressed in feathers and with sister dressed up like a turkey. He spotted me money when I couldn't quite make the tuition payment in college, never missed a birthday and made sure I knew plenty about Maytag washers, rainbow sweepers and the value of glassware. I miss him so, so, so, so, so much. I love you Grandpa.

An instant potatoes day...

If you haven't heard of The Wailin Jennys I pity your life up to this point. They are often featured on A Prairie Home Companion (if you don't know what THAT is you are now dead to me...I guess if you never admit to it or remedy yourself right now by going to http://prairiehome.publicradio.org/ and educating yourself it may land you back in my good graces), one of my all-time favorite radio shows, and since the first time I heard them on there I was hooked. If I ever have a theme song composed (don't put it past me) I will commission them to write and perform it for me. (Although technically I already have a theme song..."OHHHH KETTIE...YOUR WAYS ARE THE BEST WAYSSSS.." that Seth Roush composed for me but if I ever need a NEW theme song this is my plan. Also, I have no idea what my current theme song means so it may be good to have one that makes sense.)
Today involved a 5 1/2 hour food safety class (day numero dos) and a 1 1/2 hour food safety test. From what others have told me I probably won't get my results until my AmeriCorp year is almost over so they will NEVER know if I fail it. HA! I'm pretty much an expert on cooking temperatures and how to cool down that 80 lbs of spaghetti sauce you made so feel free to call me if you ever need some food safety advice. Then again I may have failed the test so it may kill you...(that's a disclaimer).
Our cat is gone.

After being trapped in a cupboard for a few hours the other day and me thinking he had run away I decided it was time that he moved out. He was only here until he could get his act together and fly straight...actually he was the runt of his litter and needed a little TLC before he had to tough it out with big bad farm life...so we took him in and spoiled him (so much for getting his act together). Now he is back at the farm and I hope he makes it. We all miss the little guy. I think he was slightly insane (he fit right in!) and did some weird stuff but he fit in our little family and now he has flown the nest. Oh how they grow up! Edgar, here's to you, I hope you survive to be an old grumpy cat!
I'm a good cook but I can get distracted. Today to quickly fill my grumbling belly I decided to make instant mashed potatoes (DON'T YOU DARE JUDGE ME...WE ALL HAVE THOSE DAYS!) and I got distracted by the phone and lights and thoughts and I poured waaaaayyy too much of those instant potato flakes in...and I don't have any milk and so I messed them up royally. Bah-humbug. You know its been a weird day when you mess up dummy potatoes. (so I just looked up dummy potatoes on Google to make sure they weren't anything else and this popped up...The Reverend Peyton's Big Damn Band - "Mama's Fried Potatoes" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FaP0PKptmQ4 ...worth a few seconds of your day!)
Okay. Go back to your lives now. Thanks for reading.

An Exaggeration

Reflection of the day

Mild confession. I hate tunnels. They always make me think of zombies and when I'm forced to stop in them I usually imagine green slime coming out of the the walls. Not to mention the reflectors on the sides make me feel like I'm in some sort of video game where I'm loosing terribly (which if you've ever seen me play video games that pretty much the norm). But anyhow back to the original thought: I hate tunnels and what makes them even worse is when a GIANT, fire-breathing (ok, so it wasn't actually breathing fire...just diesel smoke...still gross) semi-truck floors it into the tunnel and then gets stuck by your station wagon causing you to literally quake in fear. Read that again "quake in fear" (I'm gonna bold that in case you may miss it)!

Also, I promised myself I would ride the bus today but I got scared and chickened out. To make up for not riding the bus I climbed the rock wall (literally a rock wall...no we do not have one of those climbing walls with the plastic rocks in our backyard...we do have a clothes line but I can't imagine that its really all that interesting) and got to the top and looked around and it was the time of my life (OK another exaggeration...but what's a good story without some?). Actually it wasn't the time of my life (confession) but it was nice. I liked the rocks up there...they were very interesting. But when a ant grabbed onto my thumb with a surprisingly good grip for an ant I decided to go back down the hill to my home. Every girl has her limits and mine was a fierce ant called Charlie (I don't actually know his name and its probably something I can't pronounce anyways because it's in ant language which I do not happen to know).

Also, the cat has come up with a new game where he hides around a corner and then randomly leaps in my direction. I do not think he will become a fierce hunter but may have a shot at the cat Olympics. Does anyone want/need a pint size Olympic jumping cat? He is very, very cute and needs a home and on the smallish side (very small but fierce!).

I need to go pack a lunch so I'm energized for 20 K-1st graders tomorrow. I'm going to teach them how to wash their hands and then scramble eggs. In that order.

I'm going to start keeping a tally of how many days my car stays intact and not in-need of repair (like how they have those ____number of days this place has been accident free in restaurants/etc...) SO:

0 number of days since Fit Phineas (my vehicle) has been fit Reason: Rear driver's side door panel fell partially off today.

And those dear readers are my imperfect reflections on the day.

Maybe I am crazy.

Today I checked something off my bucket list: -Stop all inbound traffic on 376 East (toward Pittsburgh) during rush hour. Yes, you read that right. I blew a tire out on the far lane of the highway today and it took 3 Pendot trucks, one cop, one AAA man, a nice old man and a waitress at a diner named Bob's, my housemate Bekah and a very nice man at Flynn's Tire to get me back on the road. They actually blocked all three lanes of traffic for me so I could get to the median. People were honking their horns and I just waved. Good morning Pittsburgh! Check list of things that have gone wrong on my car since purchasing it 4 weeks ago: 1. Radiator blew 2. Battery fried 3. Ford Taurus sign fell off 4. Tire blew 5. Break light bulb smoldered I literally started laughing my head off in the waiting room of the tire store at the craziness at it all. The man that was sitting there waiting as well simply ignored me...he must of thought I was a lunatic worth avoiding at all cost. And then I had a pretty good day. I felt great all day. Especially when my supervisor came up to me and offered me a juice box made from pureed veggies. He said I needed to try it because they might order it for inventory and didn't want it to be funky tasting. Myself and my juice connoisseur coworker approved it. The building secretary gave me chocolate covered pretzels, score. Also, I got to witness this conversation between my supervisor and the other AmeriCorp guy: AmeriCorp Guy: "How come every time I pick up my phone its on speaker" Supervisory: "Let me call you from my line and we will figure it out" (Calls other line) AmeriCorp Guy: "See its on speaker!" Supervisor: "You have to pick up the phone to hear the other person through the receiver." I cracked up. No one else did. I did a lot of one single sided laughing today. Maybe I am a lunatic.

"When we remember we are all mad, the mysteries disappear and life stands explained." -Mark Twain

There is just something that I just love about a cold Sunday afternoon, a fuzzy blanket and a host of new folk music on Folk Alley. (http://www.folkalley.com/music/freshcuts/) Currently the song "Police Dog Blues" is playing by Hugh Laurie who happens to be the guy that plays Gregory House on the TV show House. I love little things like that. So in that same vein of thought here are some other things I love in no particular order: 1. Big, beautiful crashing thunderstorms on a warm August night. 2. My three sister's updates on life (pictures, emails, cards, and phone calls). They are simply amazing girls. I'm continually amazed that I get to be their big sister. 3. Warm coffee and Popsicles in the mornings (or to be honest with you anytime!). 4. Cards, notes, messages sent by pigeons or smoke signals, texts, Facebook messages/comments and writing in the sand from friends. I'm a lover of the written word and those words are 10 times sweeter when sent from friends. 5. Bright colors and earth tones. (Ironic, isn't?) 6. Cool finds at flea markets, thrift stores and others people's homes... 7. I adore thin, precise, black pens with dark ink. 8. Quiet mornings. (But I hate waking up for them!) 9. Dresses that cinch at the waist that can be dressed up or dressed down. 10. Design blogs, design books, other peoples art, murals downtown, bits of junk remade, creative uses for everyday objects... 11. Pictures of friends and family 12. Pearls and diamonds (no need to be real!) 13. Giving a good gift 14. The smell and glow of candles burning 15. Lists! (Anyone ever heard of the book Lists to Live By ? If you're a "lister" you need a copy...or head over to a http://www.esquire.com/blogs/lists/ a blog of lists!) 16. Polka dots and Polka dancing 17. Books...enough said. 18. Dance parties! 19. Talking to cashiers at Wal-Mart 20. This big, beautiful, messy, chaotic world that I'm livin' in! I think that is enough for one afternoon's endeavors. I'm off to plug in my electric blanket...I've missed that guy!

Stringin' up my paper hearts...

Its been a quiet Saturday here in my little neck of the wood (I just looked that up on Google to make sure I didn't mess up that expression...it looks weird in print). My car, Fit Phineas, decided to have a mental break down on Friday, steam was literally coming out of his brain (aka the radiator). So I'm sorta stuck in Quip for the day...but that's okay. I used the day to learn new stuff. Like how to make paper heart garlands and tissue paper puff balls . I watched "Father of the Bride 2" (I love Martin Short as Franck Eggelhoffer...) George Banks: I have to admit, having Franck at the house did help. Although I had no idea what he did there all day. Franck Eggelhoffer: [Marching] Do the baby 'vorkout'! Make those babies gleefull! Oh, that's good. Little tin soldiers. Happy tin soldiers. Richt. And now with an attitude. [throws head back] Franck Eggelhoffer: Hello! Who you? Get 'avay'! I don't like 'vat' you say! Although Franck always makes me miss my bebe sis Lydia...she has the best Franck accent! Anyhow, I also whipped up some instant pudding...my goodness, that stuff is instant goodness. I like my life right now. Work is meaningful (abet a bit far away) and our apt is coming together. Its starting to look awesome and I LOVE decorating and rearranging and dreaming up new uses for tables and candles. Come visit sometime...we love having friends over! And that my friends is my life right now...

Stats, shortness and confessions

Besides the United States it seems my second largest audience is in Italy! Also, someone once found my blog by typing into Google "what can I do with state cheerios?". Ha ha. I'm sure my simple blog here wasn't very helpful.

I've been spending all my time car shopping. GRR! I can't say that looking at motor vehicles is going to be a life calling anytime soon (on a side note neither is tree trimming...too short...or picking corn...also too short).

This morning I woke up and the first thing on my mind was "I should try climbing that tree" (the tree that is outside of my bedroom window). I haven't yet but don't put it past me.

Confession: I miss Starbucks drinks. Blah. I hate admitting that. I also miss BFC&T so I guess I just miss good coffee (BFC&T is still #1 in my heart!). With all the minerals and sulfur in the water at my parents home it taste like I've been drinking something that resembles a rock and coffee water like substance. Blah.

On another tangent we will have fresh sweet corn at the T-County farmers market. 3-7 at the Dover fairgrounds.

Ugly Apples

I spent half of my day on the back of a pick-up truck picking apples. The thing I love about those little green things is that our apples are what we affectionately call "ugly apples" because they are pretty darn ugly! They are real apples. Grown on a real apple tree near our barn.
I love em because no matter how ugly they are they still taste great and make awesome apple pies.
And that kids is a great life lesson.

Stale Cheetos

Right before I fall asleep every night I have such inspiring thoughts. Last night it had something to do with life and stale Cheetos. But, I can never remember them in the morning.

Define: Nail Filler

I’ve held down a host of odd jobs in my life. I started out as a nail filler for my dad’s construction company. I’m a first rate nail hole filler. Maybe if I would put that on my resume I could have gotten a real job instead of a part time admin-assistant-barista. A nail filler is someone who is going somewhere.

At one point I worked for a radio station.
"You are listening the Voice of the Valley this is Kettie and the temperature outside is 66 degrees."

I had a short stint as a waitress at Bob Evan's where this one lady insisted on calling me "Kitty" and would yodel (I'm not even kidding here) "here kitty, kitty" when she needed something. After sitting there for 8 hours she would leave me a dollar.

At another point in my life I had a herd of pygmy goats. Why pygmy goats? They were stubborn, ate everything in sight and never did any cool tricks.

They list could continue but I've revealed enough of my secrets today. Tune in again!

Camp Superkids

My great aunt got it in her head one summer that she wanted to send me to Asthma camp. While I wasn’t completely thrilled with the idea my parents didn’t want to disappoint my great-aunt because once you’ve lived that long no one argues with you anymore. So on one hot July day I found myself at Camp Superkids (we weren’t different…we were super!). The “cabins” were these long sterile buildings, complete with air conditioning and no mattresses. You see sending about 100 or so kids who can’t breath to a camp is pretty much a worthless idea. All of the counselors were these super fit, athletic type college students. Instead of fun camp activities like swimming we got to experience calisthenics (yes they called it that and yes just hearing that word still makes me cringe). Then instead of a fun craft time or nature walk we had health class where doctors brought in a set of pig lungs. They showed us how regular lungs worked and how lungs that had been traumatized by cigarette smoke made you want to puke. This would have been great in a high school biology class but to a ten year old that had been sleeping in a sterile room it was like something out of nightmares. Then at night when normal camp kids would have been hanging out around the campfire roasting marshmallows the Superkid campers found themselves in a small cabin type building taking our breathing treatments. The best part was that some kid taught me how to blow smoke rings with my nebulizer (which ironically I nicknamed my "breathing machine"), a skill which sadly have forgotten. To top it off a girl in my group managed to get hit in the temple with one of those parachute men. I was lucky enough to be standing beside her when this happened. She needed stitches and I had about enough. The only letter my mom recieved that week from me said;“I hate camp. Please, please, please bring me home.” It was like Camp Granada (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D2Hx_X84LC0) except the rain never cleared.