Tuesday, June 30, 2009

En boca cerrada, no entran moscas.

"Whataya tellin' people that for?" my husband asks me frequently. I don't really have an answer. He is protective of me and more private than I am. He also thinks it gives people the wrong idea, the idea that there is some form of intimacy, when I reveal personal information to people I barely know.

I guess I sort of feel like I don't care what they think because stories are not me. Very few people are allowed to reach the inner sanctum and I reckon most of them end up a little sorry that they did.

One of my three water colors from the beautiful island of Providenciales in the Turks And Caicos islands. This one is called Bri Reading.

Sunday, June 28, 2009

Back from Vakay...So?

My vacation was great. It was so healing and helpful because I really tried to stay in the moment while I was there. It took me about three days to stop obsessing about work and problems and brain injuries. (The packing was only a tiny bit less hellish aided by little cards I made with items written on them so I could literally move the cards from one side of their pocket holder to the other as soon as the item was packed. Only problem was I forgot to put a couple of items on the cards so... I bought a toothbrush and a paperback novel in JFK. No biggie! Way too many dresses and sweaters. Too hot for either of those.)

Here is some more good news. I read TWO whole books on my trip. That is twice as many books as I have finished in the two years since my surgery. I was very proud of me. The first was the airport purchase: The Shack by Wm. Paul Young. I got into it and felt really spiritual and good. It helped me let go a little. Then I read The Pact by Jodi Picoult which I purchased at the school street fair for a buck. It was a great page turner and I was riveted. So neither was about math or TBI related stuff. I was really on vacation. I stopped having obsessive thoughts of inflicting serious damage on whatever was ailing me and started to just relax.

I watercolored my favorite rusty pier. I photographed my favorite rusty pier (as evidenced above). I pieced together a fabric interpretation of my favorite rusty pier and began embellishing it with found objects. I also taught myself how to crochet round medallions that sort of look like the pictures in the book. I might need some help with that one.

Bri and I snorkeled almost every day. We ate delicious desserts prepared by the same chef we met last year Aaron. Strawberries, whipped cream, and meringue. Heaven! We danced until sweat poured from our bodies and our clothes were soaked. We played ping pong, never breaking our early record of a rally of 33. I guess I picked up some mad skills in that mad house.

I was randomly assigned to the group that has to wait three months for my TBI research group to begin so that kind of sucks. I will work on my art and post more pics soon.

I woke this morning back at home screaming and angry at something in a nightmare.

Saturday, June 6, 2009

At My 25th College Reunion

The days are blurring together. The events, conversations, meals, information, new people, old friends, and living in the same dorm are forming one giant surreal mass in my brain. I don't know who I've met or what I've said. I tried to do way too many things today.
Mechele said the great thing about the 25th reunion is that while at the other reunions you were worried about whether or not you were successful enough, or too fat, or too bald or whatever, but now at the 25th it was much easier because there is always someone who had lost a parent or a child or a breast and those other things didn't seem as important. But in that moment before she finished the sentence as I was identifying with the sentiment she was expressing, I thought she was going to say, "There is always someone fatter or balder or less successful." And it just cracked me up that I would find relief in that, sort of.
I have to admit my classmates have accomplished some amazing stuff and I still feel pretty inadequate, but I did stop thinking about my looks a few years ago and I feel pretty good about my career choice and I am super proud of my daughter and happy in my marriage. Having the brain injury also takes the pressure off me to be smart enough now. Maybe I never was as brilliant but now I am very psyched about each and every working brain cell I have. It feels pretty good just to be here.