Happy Birthday to you,
Happy Birthday to you,
Happy Birthday dear MOOOOOMMMMMM!
Happy Birthday to you!!!!

I have learned a new facet of life at the farm. Two facets, actually: family and death. Both of which I have been introduced to in the past 24 hours. There are several who live in Gilelland: Doyle and his wife (Albert's Brother), Gerald and Shelby (he is a man a lot like John...considered family without blood relation), Bert (Albert Taylor, Jr.), Albert and Martha Jean aka Papa Bud and Mama Jean, John and Myself and Paul (he is an ex-son-in-law). In this family of sorts, death has cast its shadow: Albert Taylor, Jr. had a heart attack yesterday morning in his home. I had not been exposed to this family other than Mama Jean and Papa Bud. I do not know dynamics or stories or how people act or don't act. It is a new family to me. I aslo do not know my role. I am the newest in this family and while I am not a new baby, I recieve as much love and acceptance as one even though there is someone missing. I have never met Bert. I invited him to the wedding, unfortunately, he works in the funeral business and was called away. Odd, I never think that a funeral man would die. Irony about it was that the night prior, he was showing his parents the way he wanted his funeral laid out when he died. He loved being a funeral assistant so much that he'd applied to apprentice for a director, a morticianer. And now, he's dead. Just odd. Turns out, just like everything else on the farm, I have a use. I have special use in this time of grieving: listening. I am the listener. All the stories that I have heard and can tell in my own family like Uncle Bobby riding the bike through the dining room and cutting his hand up through the glass door, 'the boys' dismantling my grandmother's car the same day grandaddy bought it or mom screaming out the window for some boy to go away; I have never heard in this family. There are many of them, like how Albert Sr. and Martha met, how Bert caught a timber rattler and was on tv, the scandal between ex-s, the beauty of daughters and the achievements of sons. My other responsibility is to comfort. I am comforting Albert and Martha Jean, anything that needs to be done, I do. John does the heavy lifting stuff, emotionally hard stuff and the just plain things that have to be done stuff and I do the comforting,tending and listening. I have use. I am finding with each minute that I listen that it is more important that I keep listening.

Tonight I listened to the big house (Albert and Martha Jean's) and the fire as it breathed while we waited for the family to return from the visitation. Mama Jean wanted someone at the house so no one would steal anything and to recieve visitors in case they stop. That is what we did, John and I. Once the family returned I went back to listening to them. They said there were 896 names in the book at the funeral home, probably 1000 that came through the line and that there was a two hour weight just to see Papa Bud and Mama Jean.

Tomorrow, I will go and listen again. I will listen to a preach I don't know preach about a man I have never met. I will listen to the family I live with tell stories I have never heard. I will listen to the sounds of silence that hold the greiving hearts of my family.

I couldn't be happier....
Right dear?
I couln't be happier...
Right here!

I have come to find that there is only one reason for a farm: work. If it ain't working, it ain't a farm. The cows work. The dogs work. The house works. The people who live in the farm house work. The clothes that we choose have to work. There is something about the farm that makes me feel like I am in the right place. I guess it is because I have a role to play. I am a part of something that is useful and productive just by living. I feed and water cows and dogs. I pay bills. I cook and clean. I play outside to train the dogs. I walk the pasture with John to count cows (if one's missing, well, something is just wrong). I am part of and useful. If for some reason something is not working, like a cow, then something is wrong. It is of no use and it is no longer a part of the farm: cow goes to market or is buried. Hopefully, that won't happen to me. There is something fulfilling about being a part of a farm. Well, being a part of anything really. It makes me feel good inside. I recognize this is more about God than anything. When I am full, generally I am connected with God. In this crazy marriage that is completely based in the Holy Spirit, I recognize that the contentment comes with that primary basis. I wouldn't feel so good without it. Sundays have a part at this farm too. They are the day we go to church, and to be frank, I think the farm knows that is what Sunday is.

This new life that I am living, is working into me. It is working into my heart.

There's nothing that can stop you from being populer--lar,
LAAAAA-LAAA-LLLAAAAA-LAAAAA

I have several blogs in me and haven't had time to get them out so I am determined to write all of them today since it is my day off. I don't know that I will get them all out in one publishing, but I am going to get at least one of them out.

Cowboy Boots

I see little girls in pink and red cowboy boots with their church dresses on Sundays at the Sautee Trail Cafe where we have breakfast with the boys all the time. It is apparent that their mother's know to pick their battles and red or pink cowboy boots are not a real battle to fight. The little girls are so happy to be in the boots they don't even notice the frills of the dress or the curls in thier hair. They just like the boots. They are little cowgirls just like their Daddy's are cowboys. Mom is just glad they got to church on time and are grateful not to make Sunday brunch but rather have it at the cafe.

I don't remember if I had a pair of cowboy boots or not. I can remember wanting some but not so badly that it made a difference. I guess that is a difference of growing up in the city and the country. I wanted to be like my parents and I can't say that I have ever seen either of my parents in a pair of cowboy boots. It seems like being a cowboy would be a good costume for halloween though. It was that type of thing. Cowboys weren't real. They were something that happened in "the Old West." They sure didn't happen on Lakeshore Drive in Avondale Estates or in Stone Mountain at Howell Mill Rd or on Ponce De Leon and College Avenue. That just wasn't something I knew much about. I have never had a reason to want boots.

When I went to college we used to go to the country bar called Mama's which I found ironic in its placement because it was located smack in the middle of the hood. I am not sure if it is still open, my guess is yes. It was an amazing place. Big as a warehouse. On Thursday nights they gave free line dance lessons and Vicki and I would go to learn the line dances. I can remember going back on Fridays a couple of times to dance and drink. It was great fun. I don't know how much I drank because dancing was available. It was hard though when there were so many people because then you'd get asked to dance by men on the slow dances and that for some reason was so uncomfortable. I was not good at that. But I do remember boots. I mean LOTS of boots. The folks there had pride in their boots, their jeans, their skirts, their outfits, their button down shirts, their look. It was all about being country and having pride in the fact that you were country. It was really about the boots because they made it easier to dance. I wanted boots so badly. I came close enough though by having these short healed pretend boots that worked enough to dance. I wanted a pair so badly and couldn't afford them to save my life. I was in college. I was drinking. I wanted and was denied!

At my last job, I finally found a good enough reason for this city gal to buy a pair of boots. One was because I had the money and two was because of image. What more reason does a city girl need than image? I had been in these mountains now for six years and boots were common to a lot of folk up here and while they all required boots for most of their lives, but not me. I was still a city slicker and living on the square in my city apartment. But image for a country concert--I had to look the part. So I bought a pair of really nice denim jeans, a pair of new boots by Dan Post and a Stetson. Now, I would have never chosen the pair that I picked. I went through pair after pair with this gal in the store. I don't know the first thing about boots and she was just trying to help me make up my mind. She knew it didn't make any difference which pair because it would be for looks. I put on the pair that I bought and this man walked around the corner and looked at the boots on my feet and smiled. In a slow, comfortable pace (which at the time I was not in, I had an overwhelming sense of urgency), he stated in that family oriented, southern draw: That's a nice boot--with that, I bought them. The guinuine way he made the statement, I knew I had stumbled onto something good.

The concert was great and I loved the look I had created. Somethings I didn't know about boots that I found out quickly was that they have to be broken in. I broke them in all right. I had more blisters on my feet the next morning, I almost couldn't walk. Since that time, I mostly couldn't find a reason not to wear them. I loved the feel of them. I loved the way they went with every outfit. They made this city slicker into a cowgirl. Although, I didn't really have the experience to be a cowgirl, but I felt like one. I love them. I really wanted to wear them under my wedding dress, but I am sure that my Mom would have stroked, instead I wore them to the dress rehearsal. Hey they matched my outfit!

I have had people come up to me and ask to see the boots that I have on because they recognize the quality of the boot. They ask if it is a Dan Post boot. Who would know? Not me. They will give me this look...it is like how would someone like you have such good taste in country? Country, like I know anything about country? NO. I know people who tell me the truth and that man told me the truth: it was a nice boot.

When I moved to the farm, Gilleland, I thought I was moving to a house. Turns out I was not moving to a house, I was moving to the country. Things at a farm are different than a house. For starters, there is not a driveway or a place to park, cows will spy on you all the time and mowing the front yard is an all week affair. I found more use for my boots than I have ever imagined. For example, it is really hard to get to my car in heels, but in my boots, oh, what a good thing. My love for my boots grew the most when it rained for two days straight here not long ago. I wore my boots and a pair of black pants one day for work and the next day was my day off so I wore the denim boot cut jeans I bought for the concert. There were lots of errands to run and I was out in it, I tell ya. When I finally tracked through the rainy, muddy spot that I park my car and into the mud room, I stripped out of my soaking jeans. I found that the whole bottom six inches of the jeans were just wet, not dry, just wet. Once I was into my snuggly pair of flannel pj pants, I realized, my feet were dry and warm. Not a single bit of my feet were cold or wet. The boots had protected my feet. They kept the jeans from soaking me to the bone. I was warm without having to do anything. I threw the jeans in the dryer and smiled. I was warm. Gotta love boots when they are working. Out I went again to do more things, but I wasn't worried because I had on my boots and knew I would stay dry and warm.

I have found other good uses for them like when I go out into the pasture or out into our yard for that matter. They are protective and comfortable. I had no idea I would enjoy my cowboy boots as much as I have. God knew what he was doing when He moved that man to come around the corner lean on the boot rack and smile. I have never seen that man again, but I know that if I ever buy another pair of boots, it will be on his recommendation. My boots are broken in and are teaching me what it means to be country. I love my boots and I am beginning to love being country.

How do you know that you live in a small town?

When you go to the movies and the owner of the theatre sees you to say, "Where have you been? We haven't seen you in six months!"

When your girlfriend cancels your date because her chicken house alarms have been going off all day.

When you understand the difference between a frost and a hard frost.

When you judge planting according to a blackberry winter.

When you say things like, the amount of fogs in August are the amount of snows in winter, and you are right.

When you describe where you live according to the river: I live of Town Creek, btw.

When it is acceptable to be late to work because you overslept due to the calves being weaned from their mothers and crying all night.

When there is no question to missing work to take a family food because there is a death in their family.

When the big night in town is to go to the auction.

When people think that driving more than ten minutes is too far unless you are going "into town".

When the guy who drives the tow truck is the guy who gets you out of jail because he is the family friend that does that kind of thing.

When the best time of the year is when the rodeo is in town.

When everyone knows you your mom, your grandmother and your great grandmother and you are related to half the county. (In case you are wondering, I had a customer who came in today and went to church with my Great Aunt Nenny and knew well my cousins Witt, Bruce, George and Lane--small town.)

We are hand in hand,
The wizard and I!

It occurs to me that I haven't said too much about living on a farm. The farm is how John and I refer to our home. Papa Bud & Mama Jean aka Albert and Martha Taylor, who own the farm refer to it as the Honey House because Papa Bud used to make honey in the barn. There are approximately 80 acres that the farm sit on. These acres house the farm house built in 1845, the barn that was built after that, about 32 hefers, 16 calves, 1 bull, 1 horse, 1 donkey and two dogs. There is a joke that Papa Bud names the cows. He does, actually name the cows, however John doesn't know their names so he calls them hamburger, ribeye and new york--strip for short. They are beef cows. There are two ways for the cows to make it off the farm, first, they can be a bull or they can be mean. If the calfs are not broken of their tempermant then they go off the farm. No mean cows here. Nope. There is one other way, now that I think about it, they can be old. Otherwise they stay on the farm. The horse is John's and although the horse, Legend, is 23, he is healthy. The vet said he will live to be 40. Who knew that horses lived that long? The bull is an interesting creature. He is not easily excited, unless he smells rye or pumpernickle bread. He will eat your arm for rye and pumpernickle bread. The jack ass is for purely working reasons. An unfortunate side effect of living in the middle of a pasture is coyotes. The Jack Ass is allergic to dogs. By this I mean he will stomp a dog. He has no use for them. Every once in a while Red Dog will get too close to him and get kicked, but as a result, no coyotes bother the heard. In case you are curious coyotes is pronounced KI-yot-s. Not ki-yot-ees. No such thing. The two dogs are Red Dog and Baby. Red Dog is a sooner dog. The sooner dead the better. He is a tough mix of hound and charpee. When he barks, the bark is so lound in his head that he barks and shakes the ringing out of his ears. Wooooof shake. Wooof shake. It is very funny to watch. He is a very old dog. Every day John and I come home expecting him dead. He has been shot three or four times through his back hind leg when he wanders off the property. It is amazing he is alive. Then there is Baby. Baby is a black and white austrailian sheperd, a cattle dog. Her favorite thing in the whole world is to out wit cows and swing from their tails. However she is a naughty dog and has gone off and gotten knocked up. She will be having puppies around the new year. She is the smartest dog I have ever dealt with as far as dogs go. She heals, sits and all for a little loving. Amazing.

The farm is one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. It is completely surrounded by National Forrest. There is nothing but God's beauty in 360 degrees. Amazing. I love living here.

All I've ever wanted was a love to be true,
Not enough to by,
Enough to see me through....

Today has been a tough day. This morning came early. It came earlier than I was done sleeping. While I had yesterday off which is unusual and ended up doing completely different things than planned, I still managed to wake early without due amount of sleep today. I find it interesting that Carter's non-litugical sermon was on the gospel read in all the Episcopal Churches across the Atlanta diocese. While Carter's sermon was on giving to the chuch, ours was on God's ability to hear a pure heart. In Sunday School class this morning we took a closer look at the passage in Mark and compared it to a passage in the old testament, Kings, about Elijah and a widow and her faith to make bread for him and have oil for eight days. They were both widows. They both gave of their faith because they had nothing left to give. They were obedient to God and gave with a faithful heart knowing that He would take care of them. The ulitimate sacrafice. Thusly leading into the ultimate sacrifice of Christ for sins. This was quite a piece to swallow. At the same time, John and I were trying to figure out what to pledge to the church--not because that was the sermon but because that is what we are doing as a new couple in the church. We decided to give some and then keep some to give to other organizations with similar Christian aligned purposes.

From there, we went to breakfast with the boys without going home to change and from there we went out to the farm (WHICH WAS A WRECK) because my father-in-law was coming to cook for us. I cleaned the house as the boys showed up and the kitchen was slowly destroyed from having a big meal cooked in it. Before the boys showed up and after Papa John showed up my John got a very disturbing phone call. So now I am worried about the phone, worried about the fact that three giants are about to descend (that would be the boys) and worried that my house is a complete wreck. Once I came to a place where the house would just have to do and the phone call went out of my head and the giants arrived, I settled down a little. We used the new crystal sweet tea goblets and the new spode italian china. There were things missing like linens and things to sit a casserole dish on the tabe with, but there was family and laughter and love. There was no laughter however once the giants began to eat. There was no noise at all for that matter. There was some scaping of plates once they were done, but that was about it. As quickly as it started it ended--not before I got a picture of everyone together. They hate pictures, but they will have to get over it in my house! Whooshe out the door they went...hugs, good to see you and gone waving down the driveway. There was nothing left except a kitchen full of dirty dishes and a beautiful sunny day.

I don't know if this is what God means by sacrafice, but that is how I felt once the day was done. I felt like I had given every thing I had. At least that is true emotionally. Family while being a great thing can be totally exhausting. I don't do well under unplanned events either. Not to mention the fact that my house is so not in order. I mean physically and mentally and emotionally. I was totally not ready for that. I was totally stressed out.

I am ready for God to just take away the stress and give me some easy down time to work in the house and take care of me for a little while and then it happened.

John and I went and walked the property. This is quite a venture. There are about 80 acres. We didn't walk the whole thing, but we walked to the river and walked up the mountain to see the 360 degree view. It was breath taking. The cows just stared at us like what are these humans doing in our yard? But it was calming, welcoming and healing. The stress left. The day closed with a beautiful sunset like the close of hard days often do.

If your tired of being lonely,
Beat up and confused,
Dariling there's only one thing you can do,
Come with me,
Well I got what you need...

Nothing's quite so clear now
Do things, fight things,
Feel you've lost your way?

I feel like I have had the rug yanked out from underneath me. Two Friday's ago everyone who is close to me was at my side treating me like a princess. That is a PRINCESS. As in no matter what I said I was right. I had seven ladies in waiting and a queen mother hovering making sure I was getting my way. I wasn't marrying a prince, rather a prince mixed with a knight in shining armor. I couldn't believe it. It was amazing. Everyone was there.

Earlier last month I bough tickets for a production of Into the Woods. I mean what better tickets can you get? It is the best of the best productions. I wasn't sure how best of the best the acting would be, but I was willing to find out. John was working so I asked out girlfriend set #1 and once it was time to go to he musical, they back out. Ask back up girlfriend and daughter, they decide to go to Family night...erg. Call every girlfriend in the phone that lives in the tri-county area. Nothing. Call my brother! Ah, He'll go with me. It is too late for him to be able to get there and be on time. Who would know? No one will go. This happened once before with a ticket to see BBKing at Chastain. No one will go. I have to go alone.

I am alone.

Why does this bother me so much? I used to go to the movies by myself. I used to eat dinner by myself. Why am I so worked up over a couple of folks saying no thank you? They are not rejecting me. They aren't taking their love away from me. They aren't breaking up with me. They are just saying, sorry Charlie, I am not available. Erg.

Two weeks ago they were ladies in waiting. This week they have their own lives. What the hell happened? I still have a tiara!

So I go alone. I am alone.

You decide, but
You are not alone.
Believe me,
No one is alone.

I gave my two tickets that I already paid for to the box office to see if they can sell them. They can't. A refund requires too much paper work which is why all sales are final. So I give her the tickets anyway and tell her to give them to someone who could use them since I have to pay for them no matter what.

I go in and sit down. I read through the playbill. Hmm... broadway experience, hmm...teaches drama at the college level...sounds good. The director gets up at the beginning to raise more money. And then introduces the musical conductor in the pit and ....ONE-ce upon a time, I wish...There is my friend. He is on stage. He is Jack, the dreamer, pouring over milky white. He was in Godspell with me and is a total dreamboat of a kid. He is also a tremendous performer. Ahh...I am comfortable. This is pretty good...AGONY!!How it cuts like a knife!!!! Yeah those guys were BROADWAY WORTHY, they were so good. They stole the show from the Broadway veteran who was the witch. She was good too. Really good. The baker just didn't cut it with the rest of the cast. He had the super lead and dropped it in his singing. His voice didn't have the power and unbalanced the whole cast. Every other performer matched up with him was a stronger voice except the narrator/mysterious man/his dad who was worse at singing than him. He never sang out of tune, he just couldn't do the big voice like the rest of them. I was worried about Will playing Jack because there are some big voice parts in Giants in the sky, but he has been coached and instead of pushing the notes and making the slide of key, he was actually singing them and brought the volume with them naturally. I was very impressed with his growth. The baker's wife, cinderella, red riding hood and the witch all had GREAT voices, however Repunzel was the best. She sounded like one of Dad's girls. Unfortunately, she was not as stong an actress as the rest, thus her placement in the cast. The effects were well done, the set was beautiful and well thought out. It was a really good production for $22. Well, I paid for $63 but everyone else paid $22. The seats got used though by Cinderella's Phi Mu Sorority Sisters who felt like oh my gosh, so lucky, huh? They were nice. I am glad they got to see their sorority sister knock my socks off. They probably don't realize that she could, with more experience (she is a sophomore in college) a little more training go on to the Atlanta productions at the Fox and at the Alliance Theatre. Although, it wouldn't surprise me one bit for her to get in like she is. She was pretty good. You know. I am not so alone anymore. I am also not such a princess anymore. Sometimes I think that God just lets me know that I have to get back to being right sized again. I am not a princess. I am not a loner without friends. I am just me. And I like just me. A lot. I love going to good productions of art. Into the Woods was done very very very well.

Witches can't be right, giants might be good
Just remember
Someone is on your side

Last night was a time of family. I had dinner with the Donnelly's. I might add that Sherry makes the perfect pancake. I am not sure how she does it, but they are perfect. We had pancakes, talked politics and looked at wedding photos. Craig burned me a cd of his photos so I begin my collection. Grace had pre-algebra homework last night that needed help with and since Craig (he is the math, Sherry is the english) was burning the cd for me, I went to see if I could help. I didn't think I could do math any more, but as soon as I saw the homework and the math problem, I knew how to do it. Can you find the least common multiple of 8x and 40? I can. AND I taught Grace how to too. I really like hanging out with Grace. She reminds me of me except with out the back talk and with out the smart comments. She is so smart and atheletic. She is kind to others and bossy to her little brother, but she loves him. She makes better grades than I have ever will. I think it was the right decision making her a jr. bridesmaid. It was nice having dinner with the Donnelly's. It makes my life feel back on track again.

I have never had a job where it has been great to be fired from it. This last one, I was fired and hired all in an hour. Granted the job that I was hired at was hourly and had nothing to do with the last one which typically is the case for me, it never occured to me that the job I was fired from was not a job, rather a career. You know, like when you had career day in seventh grade and a fireman came to speak to your class or a doctor or a lawyer? A Career. My parents have careers. My Dad has actually had two careers, one of which he is so successful at that he will actually leave the world a better place than when he found it as a result. Mom has been a teacher for-EVER. I am not sure if that is what she wanted to be when a career day person skipped out on presentation time so her teacher just stood up and gave a speech in their stead and Mom said, hmm, I think I will be a teacher, but that is what she is. She is great at it too. I do believe that Sarah has always wanted to be an astrounaut and Carter has always wanted to be rich. Me, I have never known what I wanted to be when I grew up. I remember in sixth grade wanting to be a lawyer because someone told me that I argue with people so much that is what I would be good at and when I found out how much they made, I said yeah, that is all me. But really I thought I was going to be dead by 21. It never occured to me that I would have to DO something. Turns out in my life there are a few things I am good at: talking, loving and driving (just kidding about the driving!). Anyway, the last job I had wasn't a job. It was what I wanted to be when I grew up. The concept of promotion, design, economic development and organization to revitalize historic downtowns is awesome. Working with people all day to make their community a better place to be just rocks. It is as though I might be able to leave a place better than when I found it. I hated that I was fired, but I was defeated in all corners to help a downtown that wasn't to be helped and as a result I was miserable. MISERABLE. I had been beated and broken by other people's greed, politics and selfishness. There was nothing that I could do to make that place a better place, maybe someone can, but it wasn't me. So they let me go and I had benn praying for that for a while. But who would know that other people would want me after being fired? Doesn't being fired mean FAILing a something? Doesn't being let go mean scat cat? Doesn't being fired mean I am terrible at my job? Is that what America is saying to Don Rumsfeld? You stink at your job now leave? Apparently not. At least not in the work of politics.

I went to a class today because it was the last class in my training. The woman in charge was upset that I had missed the last class and upon calling my previous employer found a dead end. She found out that her counter part in another region of the state was my oldest and dearest girlfriend's dad. He got my personal cell number from my girlfriend and gave it to this lady, thusly calling me. This lady who is a state employed person and works with lots of me's took the time to call and convince me to finish the class. She aslo gave me contacts in the county which I live and the next county over. She said that now that I have the experience, I can work anywhere. There is a city about twenty minutes from me: "over the mountain." It needs a director. She thinks that I would be perfect for the position. It is in the most beautiful city in the state. I stoped by to see my old state supervisor and asked for a reference and he said without hesitation, of course. He thinks that the political climate in that city would be better for me and a result would be a less stressful position.

He said without hesitation, of course.

Someimes I think that when Michelle tells me that God is my new Employer I think that she is crazy. The Serenity Prayer states, God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the Wisdom to know the difference. God knows that I could not change the last city. I can change my attitude towards the possibility of a new job being now instead of after the New Year. I can help these citizens to have the courage to change their city. I can have the courage to submit my resume and know that it might be rejected. Wisdom...wisdom comes with the knowledge that even if I get fired from another job in another city or decide to change my career (because obviously that is what this is) or if I decide to be poor and live on a park bench, God is my new Employer and that has made all the difference.

I'm a Georgia Voter!

On a lighter note, I almost burned down the house last night. (Here is where my brother starts to laugh and mother is aghast and one of my best girlfriends says to John, welcome to married life with Rae.) Luckily, the heater that I killed we were intending to replace anyway and I am alive. We are going to use part of our marriage money for the new heater, it just turns out that we will be getting it this week instead of putting it off until whenever. Unfortunately, there is not a lot we can do about me being stupid.

There seems to be a confusion in our area. As I rode through Helen today to get to my voting place...whatever it is called, all the city stuff was decorated in Christmas, however, all the hotels and restaurants still have out their harvest/Thanksgiving day stuff. The whole city looks like they are drunk. The trees are changing too. They are no longer that brillant colored leafy look. They are muted greys and falling off at a rapid rate. Maybe they are drunk too.

These past couple of 24 hours I have been really confused--but luckily, I am not drunk. Adjustments to living with John. Adjustments to working here in a new environment. Adjustments to moving in general. Adjustments. Change is so confusing. Is it Christmas or is it Thanksgiving? Is it engaged or is it married? Is it Clarkesville or is it Cleveland or Dahlonega? Did I leave a candle burning somewhere like ON TOP OF THE HEATER?!!

It is like a whirlwind just hanging out over top of my head. I hope it stops soon so that I can live.

When I graduated high school and people gave me gifts, you had to pull my teeth out in order for me to write a thank you note. College was ten times worse (of course I was a bit tipsy then). I couldn't imagine why I was supposed to write a thank you note. I had a party. You were supposed to give me a gift. Should I thank you because you did your job? Yeah, that was t the old way of thinking. As I go through and do my thank you notes today, it makes me cry to think about the gifts that were given. I am so full of gratitude and the ability to recieve the love with which the gifts were given. It lets me know that people love me.

John thought that when I bought the 70 thank you notes that we purchased one too many. I have done about thirty maybe forty so far. I have completely run out of one pack and cut way into another. It is hard to keep writing. None of them have an address on them yet, but just doing the composing. . .

Dear You,

Thank you so much for the thirteenth salad plate that I have recieved...

Thanks,
Me

That is not nice. So needless to say, writing the thank you notes takes lots of work to be creative and nice and let the person know that you appreciate the gift. No one wants to think that they gave an odd thing or a duplicate. They want to know that it is personal and well thought out and for us. All of my creative juices are spent three lines at a time. It is amazing. The new way of thinking in me though wants to use everything I've got because I really do think its wonderful that you gave me a second crockpot. I do. I know that mostly you love me and that is the point. Thanks for the love. Maybe I should just write that in everyone.

Dear you,

Thanks for the love.

Love you too.

love--Rae

When the train rolls by,
I'm gonna be ready this time,
When the boy gets that look in his eye,
I'm gonna be ready this time. . .

Well, I am not interested in running away, but the Dixie Chicks are one of my favorite sing-a-long cds and when I clean house, singing is important. Music is important. I have been operating off of John's computer cd player because mine is still not hooked up. When it is though, I will blow the doors off this farm house!

All that being said, I have been cleaning the farm all day almost. John and I wanted to go to church this morning, but the sleep over slept and church became ousted due to the list of other things going on. Breakfast with the boys was also cancelled because one is working and the other is doing his family stuff and the third is hunting. This was perfect for me because I am more interested in getting the farm in order in stead of its current state of disarray. All of the gifts have been opened and now they are put away after all the cabinets were cleaned and the china cabinet dusted. All that is left is a stack of boxes for John to take to the dumpster at Linda's. He has already made one trip and will make another when he gets back from district. I am grateful for district because it got him out of the house and let me work. He went with Sebastian and shortly after he picked Sebass up, Megan called. She is lonely and wants to play designer so she is on her way over.

Last night I made dinner, well part of dinner. I made a chicken dish perscribed by Mom and wassail. I forgot to pick up salad and dinner rolls so we ate the chicken dish. We used our new china and new sweet tea glasses that Carter gave us. I know they were from Carter because they came straight out of the box with the card. The dishes were out of Mom's set. The ceramic bake wear I used was from Donna and Skippy and the utensils were from Michelle Wilde. The cake plate that held John's birthday cake was from Mrs. Kahle and the crock pot was from Bobby and Meloday (although they gave it to me several Christmas's back and I have never used it until last night) that holds the wassail. My timing is off too because we were late to the meeting by about forty-five minutes! But we went anyway.

I don't know what happens as a result of marriage. I have never cleaned my apartments as much as I am cleaning this old farm house. I have rarely made dinner. I tried once at the Sautee apartment and would invite different people over just for dinner. I think I had he same sensation that I have now. I just am ready to have a family. I am ready to have friends over to hang out in my house, watch movies, play games, share their lives with my family much as others have done for me. Megan says that I am nesting. That is something I have normally taken offense to, but today it seems appropriate for where I am in my life. I think when I nest is helps me feel more at home. I also think that the nest here at the farm is getting more homey by the second. There are some big things left to be done, but they will happen with time.

Home, that is the name of the second Dixie Chicks cd. Maybe I should put that one in next.

For the first time in a while, John and I had a real date. One of those dates where you go out to eat and are happy, joyous and free. You know, he's funny and you are beautiful and all is right in the world? Neither of us were stressed or tired or haggard. We were easy going, happy, fun to be with people. We had stories and interesting tid bits about each other to share openly without fear. It felt like when we were first dating. You'd never know we were married. Or better yet, you'd never know that we had just gone through the wedding of the century. We held hands, prayed over dinner, and laughed at key moments and told jokes that went over our waitress's head (she was a bottle blonde, what do you expect?). Then we went to Wally World afterwords where I bought 70 Thank You notes and he thought it was too many (Little Does He Know...) a Tide Pin to get out the marinara stains from dinner and memory foam for our bed. Oh...memory foam...softness....I can't remember having that good of a date in at least six months, maybe more. The memory foam was the icing on the cake for a good night with my husband.

On the twelfth day of my wedding my family gave to me,

Twelve plates for dining,
Eleven checks for cashing,
Ten tea-cups steeping,
Nine knives for carving,
Eight antique goblets,
Seven sets of china,
Six sweet tea glasses,

FIVE COFFEE MAKERS,

Four napkin rings,
Three table cloths,
Two sets of sheets,

and a gift card to the OUTBACK!!!

I came home last night. Although, it was not a home I grew up in with my family. It is not a home I have worked for to be a part of a community. It is a home that is given to me. It is a home that I share. There are no strings attached. It is a home with a name, the honey house of Gilleland. Gilleland is the farm. The Honey House is the name of the home that has been given to John and I. There is nothing there that is mine except boxes upon boxes of stuph. I am in this strange yet familiar place and my perspective seems to be changing second by second. When a customer comes in they ask my name, I have to pause before I say, Kahle. When I put something away on the shelf, my rings clink against it. When I refer to John, he is no longer my fiancee but my husband. John and I had been seperate for about three hours when I left for work and he called. Not for anything of emergency, just to catch up over the last three hours. That's strange.

I have seen everyone from every aspect of my life in the last week. I saw Midge Godfrey from Virginia (now Snellville). I saw the Dr's Brown with their children from Decatur. I saw my long time girlfriend from when I was eight, Lea Anne. I saw every cousin, uncle and aunt I have. I saw my girlfriend Megan from Agnes Scott and I saw my best friend Megan from North Georgia. AND I saw them all in three hours!

Now they are gone. Poof! in a puff of smoke. Left behind in their stead is a gift of some kind and a memory that includes a whirlwind. Boxes upon boxes of stuph. And just as they have been here and gone, I am married with a home. My perspective has changed again. I live at Gilleland. I am Mrs. John Kahle.

4 days

Jack Frost was nipping at my nose this morning. For some reason my insides thought it was Christmas. The house was warm and cozy with soft lights on in the back ground. The air outside was crisp and a hard frost covered everything. It was like snow but not.

I was supposed to go dance last night and instead went to the Donnelly's for family fun. Maybe I will go tonight. I am so nervous, I can't stand doing something normal. I want to do fun exciting things to go with my nervouse energy and dancing seems mundain. I can't believe that something I enjoy so much, my mind would consider mundain. So last night I went to the Donnelly's. Grace has been asked to take the SAT. Both Grace and Cooper got their quarter one grades: All A's. Cooper had the lowest grade in Science: 96. Then once the kids went off to do homework, we adult folk talked politics over coffee. The Donnelly's make it interesting because Craig is republican and Sherry is a democrat. Fun. We had great political debate until finally Sherry asked if I studied political science in college (I should have). I told her my parents are that political. I pay attention.

My house no longer looked barren when I got back to it last night. It did however look like a wreck. So tonight, if I don't dance (probably won't dance) I will clean it up and finish the last few boxes worth. I would rather talk about politics with my family, but I guess I will have time for that soon enough. There is so much to do tomorrow: marriage liscence, post office, move out, bank accounts, insurance, flowers, goodies for guests, programs for ceremony, pay the priest, clean the apartment, so many things. Today seems to be traveling at a great rate of speed. I could have sworn it was Christmas morning just a second ago.

5 days

My apartment looks like someone has robbed it. It is less a dresser and bookcases and pictures on the walls. It looks crazy. I didn't realize in moving so much yesterday how honestly barren it would be, but it is bad. Tonight is clean up night. Normally I would go dance, but I am too much...a bit too nervous. John says I should dance, but what does he know...

One more day of work. I can barely stand it.

The organist called and is ready. The man playing at the reception called and is ready. The priest spoke with John & I yesterday at church, she is ready. The tuxes are ordered. The food is ordered. The flowers are ordered. The friends are invited. The family has booked hotel rooms. The flower girl has a dress. The ring bearer has a tux and boutineer.

All that's left is the party.

Whew.

So I feel more like an Agnes Scott woman this morning than ever. I don't know if it is the black turtleneck I put on that matches the onyx in my ring, the Main Events that I recieved in the post this week or the salad I had for lunch yesterday making me feel good about myself. Or maybe it has been hanging out with Grace and talking about school and having excitement about learning.

In the Main Events there was much more about our class than normal. I don't know why that is that we are re-bonding again. We were a pretty close class for being the largest graduating class (125 people, which of course is no longer the largest class). I was reading over it with Grace the other night in awe of the women I have graduated with: Mandy married an f-15 pilot in the AirForce and is a stay at home mom; Laura has been studying public health in New Mexico while getting a masters in epidmeiology and getting married, dealing with her father's death; Bonnie composed a piece that is being played in Carnegie Hall; Michelle is in Dublin working for the bank; Anna is getting a masters, married, raising a youngin and working a full time job; Erica had a baby girl; Giselle is a recruiter for GT, while being in charge of all kinds of things; Charissa is married, raising a little girl, and being an artist; Jessica graduated from Harvard; Sarah, Dinah & Ginny are married; Le'Aqua is raising a junior olympian; Kim is establishing non-profits....THESE are the women I graduated with! They are amazing and productive and make me amazed that I was a part of them. When I asked Grace who they sounded like, she said "me." Yep, I am groomin Grace for Scott. I told her the only exceptions to the rule would be if she went to Wellesley. I told her these are your peers my dear. She loved it.

So why is it that I feel more like a Scottie than ever? I don't know. I think it was because of this mornings time of meditation. I thought what do I have that they have that would make me a part of, what can I contribute? I have something that they don't nor could they ever experience, nor do I lend so much information when it comes to print: I am recovered from a seemingly hopeless state of mind and body. I am six and a half years without a drink or a drug. I am four years without a cigarette. I am fully self supporting. I have a strong belief in God that fuels me daily. I am about to marry a man who shares my spiritual beliefs. I have all new oak raised cabinets with curios shelved tops and a new stove. Only Scotties can do these things. Much like our class mascot, we are Wonder Women. I won't ever be able to print any of the grand things of my life, but I am forever tied to my alma mater. I don't know that I could say the same if I had gone to a big school. I have a fresh understanding of who I am today that I didn't have yesterday. I am a woman of Agnes Scott College. I am a graduate of the class of 1998. I wear my Agnes Scott Ring with pride and knowledge that I am worthy of it.

How do you know that you have the best man in the whole world?

When the first phone call you get is I start my new job on November 6.

When the second phone call is I got you all new counter tops, cabinets and a stove and they are free!

I think I am in love with Gene Kelly, who could ask for anything more?

8 days..

How do you know that you have the best man in the whole world?

When the first phone call you get is I start my new job on November 6.

When the second phone call is I got you all new counter tops, cabinets and a stove and they are free!

I think I am in love with Gene Kelly, who could ask for anything more?

8 days..

Dance is such a wonderful thing. Last night's dance class was just great. I mean, great. Had I had a choice, I would have let it go on for at least another hour. Then I talked to my girlfriend Debbie all the way home. I am a phone talker. Some people are not phone talkers, but I could talk on a phone all day long. I like to talk and work on my house at the same time, however, it is also a good way to pass along the commute back from Athens. Last weekend I talked with Aunt Bonnie for over two and a half hours on the phone. Can you imagine? I didn't realize it until it was almost ten o'clock and was ready for bed. Strangely, my phone bill has increased last month, not in cost, rather in minutes on that Sunday night commute all the way back from Athens (weekends are unlimited free minutes and man do I use it). On nights and weekends I am talking 1380 minutes, that means I am talking for almost a WHOLE DAY on the weekends. Pretty impressive my friend. Mom holds the title for longest phone call which is a total of 72 minutes. Mom is a total NON phone person, which means it must have been important. It was a Sunday. Something about Sundays. Mom has always said that I could make friends with a brick wall. Maybe that is who I have been talking to on the phone. My total phone talking comes to forty hours...a month. It is a part time job. I love it.

Sometimes all it takes is a little bit of fun tomake life better. Friday night went to OUtback in Commerce so as to meet up with Megan and hang out. I had a bit of shopping to do for the wedding too so and it is half way for both of us to drive. Perfect! We get to Outback and to make things better, two of our friends are already there, Patrick and Carlton. Patrick and Carlton are like hanging out with the Blue Collar Comedy tour so needless to say, there was great merriment. Even better, while we waited for our table, they ate dinner. While we ate dinner, they had coffee and hung out with us! It was great fun. So instead of having to wait on our good time in line, we had a long happy, familiar evening. Saturday night, Martha threw a party and with a whole separate group of friends (although the comedy tour was there initially, but left to go to a movie) John & I had another great evening. It was like family. Unbelievable. Martha has an awesome bonfire/chimenea/mesh wiring type thing to burn wood in and everyone brought snackables. We sat around that fire for HOURS, talked about studdering country stars, Henry V, brawlhead and laughed until we were so tired, we weren't sure we would make it off the mountain. Finally, Sunday breakfast with the boys was the best so far. Today it was an honest family. It was apparent that everyone was honestly trying and enjoying their efforts in being a family. David is going to apply to Winthrop University, North Georgia and Young Harris to begin his stint in college looking realistically because of his grades (he has a 3.6 and is not sure that will fly at the big schools). He is making all A's except for chemistry which is an 86 because of his first test. Joey is doing great at work and buldging out of his clothes because of his new workout schedules being so productive. He is very excited to increase his body size because this way he is less like his brother Eric who is a sissy boy. Eric, unfortunately wasn't there, but Timbo, a good friend, was. He looked about like me because there was no water and Clarkesville thus no shower, however, happy because it had been a good weekend. It was a great weekend. I finally feel like I am back to normal. I finally feel like I am happy again. I get to go to dance tonight just to add to the good things that are happening. Sometimes my life is a Gene Kelly movie. Who could ask for anything more?

These are the days when anything goes,
Everyday is a winding road,
I get a little bit closer,

I don't generally like Sheryl Crow, but she is what is on the radio and this particular song is one of the few that show off her ability. It also is more applicable than ever. Each day I have been away from my old job the more I heal and I get closer to feeling fine. People have been telling me that they have noticed that I have been sick because I share WAY too much information instead of keeping it short and simple: KISS--keep it simple stupid or simply simple or simple silly, just depends on who you are and how badly I want to call you a name. But I have not been simple. I have been complex and extensive. Last night I was able to share, be poinant and simple. It was nice. I felt good about myself. Capable. Like I had healed a bit. It was nice. Today I feel great too because I actually got a full night's sleep which makes me feel even better. To add icing on my cake for the day, John went to pick up our new washer and dryer that Mom & Dad gave us as a wedding gift. Sorry folks, but no matter what you give me, Mom & Dad have out done you with that one. I did that to Carter once on Father's Day. Some gifts are just mind blowing *I gave Dad a Homer Hickum signed copy of Rocket Boys* and there is no attempting to give as good a gift. THANK GOODNESS for a washer/dryer. Hurray. I have never owned one before and it makes me feel like a real adult owning something so big and domestic. I will start packing this evening too. Hopefully, that will be like adding an icing yellow rose to my cake!

Everyday is a fading sun,
I get a little bit closer to feeling fine...

16 days

Little ditty about Jack and Diane,
Two American kids growing up in the heartland...

Wierd things are happening to me lately. I am noticing unrighteous things such as...

I purchased my last 1/2 gallon of milk as a single person.

I am saving boxes at work to move into my fiance's home.

I am having conversations such as "We should get a Christmas Tree and put it in that corner."

These are weird things. These are not conversations or events that I have ever run across before. Not to mention, never will again. I have been really tender lately. I have a tendency to cry even when people aren't being mean to me. Michelle says that it is because of losing my job and getting ready to be married. ??? Which is it I wonder. I almost cried when I bought the milk. I have worked hard to be an independent female, capable of self support, nested well into a homey apartment with all acutraments screaming you are in my house...welcome. I am going to have to start over again accept instead of me it will be we.

Oh yeah,
Life goes on,
Long after the thrill of living is gone....

One of my coworkers, who is much younger than I, had to make a decision that I don't know if I could make. His wife was taken to the hospital due to complications with her pregnancy. The doctor looked him square in the eye and said you have a decision to make. You can lose the baby girl or you can lose the mama and the baby. They took the baby girl. She was twelve ounces and completely formed, however was not able to live. His wife is still in intensive care and there is a risk of a stroke. I think God knows who can and who can't. I mean, this guy is twenty-one. 21!!! I wasn't even capable of a relationship at twenty-one, not to mention making life altering decisions in a relationship. It makes me think about John. Will he have to make these types of decisions with me? Will I with him? The answer is yes. I just hope that it is not within the next couple of weeks. I have made enough life altering decisions just for myself for one year. I don't know that I could handle for John too. Growing up has great pains. I have definitely experienced my share and exactly when I could handle it. God just knows.

18 days

I think I just got taken by a cheerleader. She was blonde haired and blue eyed. She had a nice smile, bows in her hair and a yellow cheer shirt on with black cheer shorts. Everything about her said rah! rah! shish boom bah! She explained it all quite clearly. She said that she was looking for sponsors for her first year in cheer and that I could give on any level. There were three levels (bronze, silver and gold) and that even if I couldn't give on one of those levels, I could just give a few dollars to help out. So I gave on the silver level and began to fill out the form. She quickly yanked the form out from under my pen and said, oh no. You don't have to fill this out it is just to explain it. She then accepted politely the money, turned on her heal and zip out the door. Thank you! She cried as she took off to meet up with her cousin who had come in with her to use the bathroom. No more than ten. She was a con that was no more than ten. She gave no receipt. I can't even remember her team name or cheer association. AND I don't get credit for being a silver sponsor. WHAT IS THAT? I just got scammed by a cheerleader! Who said these chicks were stupid? That was the slickest thing I have ever seen. Amazing. I should write a movie script or plot about savage, manipulating ten year old cheerleaders who con folks out of money.

Friends with shadows on the wall
All night hearing voices telling me
That I should get some sleep

So I haven't been sleeping lately. I have been reading. I am reading a horrific, surprisingly funny romantic comedy that qualifies under harlequin. I could have sworn that Harlequin novels were marked through their covers of fabio men and beautiful women, however this one came with a listing across the top as on the New York Times Best Seller list for x amount of weeks. My thoughts were that it would be a good read if it were on the best seller list. It has two scenes in it that made me look around to see if anyone was watching me read this book. Outside of those two scenes, one of which, if I had been the editor I would have cut because it has no impact on the plot, it is a very funny little novel and much like the Meg Ryan good girl movies has captivated me. I can't put it down. I read at night before I go to bed and I CAN"T GO TO SLEEP. I am up every night until midnight. This isn't so bad because I don't get up until seven, which gives me seven hours of sleep, but that is one hour too short. Each day I get one hour closer to total exhaustion and complete mental break down. You think I am kidding you. My friends call it pumpkinizing. Rae turns into a pumpkin at ten o'clock. I become an evil, ugly pumpkin that haunts people in dreams. A pumpkin that people write about in stories like Icabod Crane and the headless horseman! Oooh. Aahh...HOLY SNIKIES. This month being the month of fall and Halloween to top things off, I don't really need to add to the air. Hopefully, tonight will be the end of this monstrous affair with this book. Hopefully, all 600 pages of it will be completed in only seven days. Who would guess that I would read a book in seven days. I am the slowest reader in the world.

I need my sleeeeeeppp.......got to function....

Waiting round the bend,
My huckleberry friend,


It is harder to keep up with people without the luxury of a computer. The first thing I have done this morning was to put in my contacts so I can read my brother's blog. I actually called him last night because I didn't know how he was. I needed to ask. I missed him. My life is gaining momentum. Now that I have a new job (which is easy and amazing! People are nice there! Who would guess that God had that planned for me?) it is not as fast paced as I had expected it to be, but it is still faster than I want it to be. Each day off I have until the wedding is filled with tasks. I have Sundays, which entail church and moving. I am not willing to move in one big ta-da. I am willing to move several days with small loads and perhaps one big day for things like a dresser. Wednesdays...well here is my current Wednesday: Tuesday morning, pack for Tuesday night, not forgetting lunch for work that day or dinner for that evening, go to work, go to dance (thirty minute prep time to leave before dance and make it on time), go to Mom's (where I get to see my parents for thirty minutes, which makes me want to stay for longer), sleep(which hasn't been coming easy lately so mostly I am tired all the time....ALL the time) get up, read blogs, go to dress fitting, leave for N.Ga, meet with priest, down time of two hours, pick up Grace & Cooper for a night of family fun (strangely they consider me family which is good because the rest of their family--Mom & Dad-- are working tonight, one in Japan the other in Gainesville. Grace was upset that I couldn't come on the regular game nights, which are Wednesday nights. She said that I was like an aunt or something. That was very sweet. When they had a family meeting they voted to have me as a substitute player when a parent couldn't be there. So I am either some weird aunt or a substitute parent. Hmm...) until ten tonight where I come home finally and sleep so as to go back to work. Not much of a day off. That is the way my life is this month though. Wedding, wedding, wedding. Finally...I have all the invitations out! Ha!

I have several beginnings of blogs in my head that I figure I can get out since I am here at the folks.

I saw the new teenage volvo the other day in Athens. I was sad. Gone are the boxy wagons of the eighties for the kids to drive off to college. In are the new triangular 720 models. I remember thinking when Mr. Scott got his what a nice vehicle it was. Appropriately, the tradition of covering the back hatch with liberal bias bumper stickers is still in fashion. Things like kerry/edwards stickers, i brake for animals, look twice for motocylces, two college loyalties and several haphazard bands such as panic, dave matthews and the atlanta symphony. The conservatives may have us on the fact that no matter what ribbon is stuck to your car it is a sign on your car that you voted for bush like the families who have a crazy number up front in the window for the parent pick up at the elementary schools. But we have them on the covering of the back of vehicles. Screw ribbons, we are liberals. We are more imaginative than that. We make the whole back of our hand me down cars look like the vw busses of the sixties. AND everyone can read what we stand for, unlike the ribbons which you have to get really close to in order to find out what it says and who is stealing their money. Although I find it interesting that there is never a solid red ribbon on the back of people's car. That would be AIDS research. Interesting.

Is it just me or should police follow the same laws we do? I mean, I get it if there is an emergency of some kind. No lights. No sirens. Stops for red lights. That indicates that the police officer I was sharing the road with was not in a state of emergency. #121 car from Gwinnette County Police was on highway 316 at nine pm last night. I have never actually driven 316 before last night. Calling the 'rents to find out that I should be careful because there are LOTS of stop lights on 316. That tells me that you really can't go all that fast. This guy ran up on me in the left lane with a clear right lane. He was so close to the back of my car I could only see his headlights on occasion. I didn't know at the time it was a cop so I politely, tapped my breaks to let her know to go around. She didn't budge, rather chose to attach herself to my bumper. I was so tired from dance, I just arranged the mirrors so they didn't blind me. Then, for no apparent reason I was passed on the right. Luckily she left my bumper on my car. Then took off with a high rate of speed at which time I noticed it was a cop, but couldn't tell from where because she was going so fast. So I sped up. I turned on my Saturn booster rockets to go from 65 (the speed limit on 316) to 80. I COULDN"T CATCH HIM. I thought to myself, well, now they are allowed to go quickly in case of emergency. She will run the red light if it is an emergency. Flash the lights, go through. So I kept up as best I could to the next stop light. Nope. He stopped. It took several stoplights before I caught up to her to get the number and jurisdiction of the car. #121 in Gwinnett County: SLOW DOWN.

I am taking Jazz and Ballet at this dance class in Athens on Sundays, Mondays and Tuesdays. I have to drive an hour to get there and I don't care because it makes me feel good. On Sunday, I got a good Rachel, from the teacher while doing jazz walks. Then on Monday (which is so much harder) in ballet, I have a dance teacher who is the epitome of ballet teachers. She is kind, soft, older, body out of shape, but don't underestimate her ability to show a trick or two. She is stern while uncaring about our dance. We are beginners so there is an understanding of patience that she has. There are two gals in the class who are teachers for the school who are amazing dancers and I can't figure out why they are in the class other than they recognize that ballet is the fundamentals of dance and it is good to take as much as you can. They are typically used to demonstrate a hard new excersize the teacher wants us to do. When it comes to hanging with these two gals, I hold my own. I am twice their size, but I get the moves correct. On Monday, the teacher used me as the demostration of a new move. Developes. They are not easy when you do them from passe. She stood next to me and spoke the commands: Passe, develope an de dan, passe, develope segunde, drop the hip, passe, develope on reaire, back straight up, passe, develope segunde, passe, releve, hold...hold...hold....And they clapped. The class clapped for me? Yes, they applauded for me. Even weirder: the advanced girls started the applause. Who would guess you get brownie points for trying? There is something special about getting praise from a teacher. It makes you know that you are doing well and achieving a goal. There is something else that happens when you recieve praise from the students in the class with you. I want that to happen again and again. I want that everyday and every moment of my life. I am selfish like that. I am grateful that it happened once in my lifetime, my guess it is something to be cherished, something to be considered a treasure, something rarely attainable. I am so grateful, it made me cry when I got home for joy.

Okay, I am going to be late to the wedding dress fitting. THUSLY, the rest of my day.

Until next time, from the Sautee Valley, where the men are strong, the women are beautiful and the children are above average. Here's saying goodnight....morning.

if you smile through the fear and sorrow,
smile and maybe tomorrow,
you'll see the sun come shinin',
through,
to you....so smile

While this whole real world job experience has been great and wonderful. The stress, fear and overwhelming sense of impending doom have been constant. I loved the conent of the job as it was posed to me from one point, however, from the other point, I was ravished with an inability to do my job. I don't know if it is because I am by clinical and medical perspectives deemed crazy. That is the clinical term for it, ask any shrink about someone with my condition. Or if the pendulum is true and it had nothing to do with me. Just the same the job is gone. Way gone. Luckily, instead of quitting when I was ready to quit back in June, I got to be fired. Again. This is a theme in my life. I was told (for the first time, which is a good sign of growth) that they were so pleased that I was handling this termination so professionally. I asked them if they expected something less. They said that it was odd that I had so little in my office that was personal. I said that I wanted to quit since June and shortly after, I cleaned out my office. I asked them if they thought I was too stupid to know that they were going to fire me today. They said no, I said, apparently not, other wise they wouldn't have asked the question. I said besides, no fit pitching means when people call and ask would you rehire this person you would say yes, but not in the position she used to have! Fears and sorrows. I took my two plants and my leather binder and went home. I have a nice severance package coming my way and somewhere inside while all of that was happening, I felt relief. I felt better. I felt like now people would leave me alone about real jobs for a change. I felt like I could take a break and breath. God was my employer. I wasn't worried about my bills or my love or my life. I wasn't afraid when they told me to go. I was accepting. I even said a little prayer to say God give me the strength to respond and not react. God give me the strength to be the person I know You want me to be. I cried some. Not really much though. I went to Sherry's flower shop and talked it out. Processed it. Picked up the paper for something more. I made a phone call to a place and a woman overheard my phone call and said she was looking for someone. It is half of what I made before. It does have benefits. It is not a "real job." It is not a pressure cooker like the old job. It is NOT waiting tables. Being fired and hired all within an hour. Unbelievable. I can dance. I can laugh. I can pay my bills.

I can see the sun shinin through to me and you...so I will smile.

Well the shower went well. All were squeaky clean when they left. I was left with a resolve not to have children for a while. While being five years. Every woman there had a baby or child. There was a two month old baby, a thirteen month old baby, a seventeen month old baby and two teenagers--17 & 19. All were girls except one teenage boy who wouldn't come down stairs other than to say good bye and eat up the left overs, so appropriate. I have never experienced so much noise in my life. Mom's trying to have conversations only to be interuppted to correct children, change clothes or diapers, catch spit up, stop screaming or catch something that was about to break. It was impossible to do anything other than eat fruit, open gifts and say "How cute." It was a party for two hours and all I could think is when can I leave after the first ten minutes. I understand why women stay home with their children for the first five years. It takes a lot just to watch one child, not to mention three. If we had been a day care center instead of a baby shower, I would say that more people were needed to watch the children. There really needed to be one and a half adults for every one child. It was crazy.

Even crazier, I left the party only to hop in a car for several hours to go to Macon. John & I arrived in the nick of time for dinner. We were able to eat dinner, listen to someone speak get and get to bed on time. It was awesome. Unfortunately, traveling to Macon took more out of me than I realized. While we were there we stopped to see one of my favorite uncles, Uncle George. He looked remarkable considering he had his sternum sawed apart and was being held together by wires. It was a good visit. So good that John & I tried another good visit with his Dad and Faye. Surprisingly, a late lunch and time with them was really good too. They had just come in from Florida. They are travelers and are always coming in from somewhere. We made it home in time for me to leave for dance class in ATHENS. So I was back in the car again for another hour to Athens.

I was late to dance class, but it was worth it. I love to dance. I am so glad that it is something I am committeed to doing. It makes me feel good about being me. I got home in time to prepare for today and work on some basics (i.e. laundry, loading & unloading the dishwasher, make lunch for today, set up the coffee pot for this mornig). I was in bed and asleep by ten only to be awoken by phone calls from those I love. Meg called to tell me all about the cool new people she'd met. She is happy which is the first step in being in a new town, trying new things. John called me for no reason at all. He just is ready to be married and hates the fact that we are not in the same home yet. He would much rather come home and me be there. Soon, I say. Soon. So I finally laid me down to sleep and prayed the Lord my soul to keep, because I realize that while I had two days away from work, I had no days for myself or the Lord. Only God will keep me sane this week. Hopefully, next weekend I will have more of me for me and most importantly, me for God.

Whew.

Long weekends. Long blogs.

I am throwing a shower with a girlfriend for two other girlfriends tomorrow. The most interesting thing about the normal baby shower phenom is that I don't know these two women! At one point in time of my life, they were friends. As in, I have been roommates with both of them. Today, they have both had children (it is an after the baby is here baby shower) and I have never seen their children! They were born and/or adopted over six months ago and I HAVE NEVER SEEN THEM! Nor have I seen those two women in the same time. Oh well, they are busy raising the children, right? Whatever. Not a phone call. Not a lunch. Not a nothing. Why am I throwing the shower? I have no idea. Because I said I would and that is the right thing to do. It is probably the only time I will see the mamas or the daughters for the next five years. Debi said that I need to write about it because there is inner conflict about this. I say that things have changed in their lives and mine and we are just not friends right now. Maybe another day. Maybe that is why I am throwing the shower. Maybe to be friends again. The more friends the merrier we become.

I could have danced all night,
I could have danced all night,
And then I could have danced some more...


I have started dance class. I am taking two ballet courses and one jazz course. It is in Athens, so it is a drive, but not that bad. I didn't know if I would remember anything, but my mind remembers. It is the strangest thing to hear this woman speak french terms and say specific things that are the lingo and my mind says, "I can do that." The problem is that it can't. It is very funny. I know what she is saying. I understand the moves, but my body is totally out of whack. It is so funny. I am backing up to beginner status so that my body can get back into whack with my mind. I love the class though. The teacher is great too. She is one of those kooky, older women who look like they used to dance once. What is really impressive is that she can dance. When she explains things (which she does once and quickly) she does the moves. It is amazing. She looks like a kooky old woman, but she is a hidden balerina. The girls in the class with me are all awesome. That is okay. It is like tennis. If you want to get better, play with someone who is. They will help my body to remember. The coolest thing about the kooky ballet teacher is that the first piece of music she played to go with our tondue exercise was the theme music from Ann of Green Gables. Yeah, I am not kidding. I get to dance with Lindsay Winzeler too. Who would guess that someone from Avondale would be there? It is a great thing. Carter says thirty minutes three times a week. This is an hour three times a week. Hopefully, I will be picturesque beautiful and back to being happy like I like it again. Whew. I sure am happy today. Thank goodness for dance.

I know who I want to take me home....


John & I got our wedding bands yesterday. I actually get two wedding bands. One will be fused to my engagement ring and one is so people won't steal my engagement ring. I am so spoiled. Unfortunately, the rings came on the wrong check. They came on the rent check instead of the oh-my-gosh-I-have-money check. Yeah, I recognize I should be more responsible than that, but I am not. Don't get me wrong, I can pay John's ring, I just will be very uncomfortable about it. John thought it was great fun saying that it is interesting how the rings arrival coincides with us being broke. He says we are as broke as two young married people could be...we don't have anything. I think he's nuts. We have everything. AND we can pay for our rings in installments, easy peasy my friend. It is funny though. It never occured to me that marriage and being broke went hand in hand. But when I think about it, that is exactly what happened to my parents. Happy living off the parents to broke in seminary. I don't know that will be so true for John & I. This was just a big expense. Hopefully, I will grow a little more and have a stock for expenses from here on out....nah. But maybe.

It was nice to see them. They are beautiful and clean. The rings fit both of us each perfectly. Perfectly. Like I was meant to wear that ring. Slid on like I'd been wearing it my whole life. There was something just moving about trying it on. It spooked me so badly I jumped to take it off. But then I put it back on again. Oh, I can't wait.

Countdown: 65 days

Oh Cecilia, your breaking my heart,
You're shakin my confidence daily,
Oh Celcilia, I'm down on my knees,
I'm beggin you please to come home... come on home

There is something comforting about that song. It reminds me of growing up in a home where music was played on Saturdays once the TV was turned off (soul train came on and was not appropriate for us) and we played outside, with friends, did ugh chores. Mom & Dad had an LP of this song, I guess album. It just reminds me of easier days. Lately my days have been really really hard. I am trying to eat healthier. Ideally, I will lose 20 pounds by the wedding AND be able to eat better so that I don't gain it all back afterwards. That is hard. Today I ate a salad, that I have decided was a bit much, that had baby spinach and something purple leafed that wasn't cabbage, fresh red peppers, pecans, corn, hickory smoked sausage with a home made balsamic vinegar and oil dressing that had oregano and basil in it. Now that sounds amazing doesn't it? First that I would even be willing to eat a salad. Second that it had red peppers and broccoli in it. Finally, that I would think of it to make into a salad dressing? Who is this woman that possesses my body? It is hard. Really hard. I think I was a little heavy on the red pepper though and I think I am going to switch my balsamic to apple vinegar tomorrow. I actually have all these things in my refridgerator. I also have a creamy vegetable dip (I also made it) in case I get snacky. It is really hard. I really am believing in divine intervention on this one. I am not eating between meals either. Really hard. I miss easier times when Mom would make lunch for me and there was always something tasty made. In the mornings I am running stairs. I am not excercising for a minimum of anything. I am just doing it until I get totally exhausted and then doing situps and push ups in between then going and doing it again. I do that before I go to work. I am nuts. I was listening to NPR this morning and they said that there is no miracle diet or pill that will help people lose weight, each person has to find what works for them. I hope this works for me. People say that they can already tell that I am losing weight. I can't decide if they are being nice or not. I won't know until I go weigh in at the dr's.

You know the most comforting thing? Having someone in the house with you even if you are not in the same room. That's the thing I look forward to with John: having a family again. I can remember the music playing an being in my room playing with my Barbies (probably because I had been sent to my room for being bad, but whatever). Mom would be in the kitchen doing whatever or the sun room reading. Carter would be in his world. Dad would be mowing, weeding, gone to see someone, on the computer working on his never ending book. I don't even know what my family does any more. There is no other language other than WEDDING. No more, so how are you? Just Have you booked the? Or how's the whatsit coming along? Have you talked to the ? Or my personal favorite, hang on I'll get your mother. I actually had to tell my mother that I didn't call to talk to her the other day. What ever happened to riding bikes, walking Ms. Cook's dog and tire swings? It is really hard to be familiar right now. Really hard. Of course, I am so tired, I don't have any other language to speak in either. I don't know how to talk in any other way. Not even with friends. Familiar things like football, labor day or autumn is coming are not even in the vocabulary. 66 Days and Panic are. It is really hard. God keeps telling me that this too shall pass. Its temporary. Nothing is real but Me. Everything is an illusion except love. God is love. It will change. Hopefully there will be a tire swing involved in the change.

The nice things about Saturdays was no school. Even if there was some type of school work, it was a pitiful excuse for my teachers to challenge me. These days work just keeps on hitting me. HOLY Smokes some of the things I have experienced, no man should. My guess is that it can only get better from here. I have headaches. I have big questions that why would anyone trust me to make these decisions is beyond me! I mean, what to they think I am? Some kind of adult? There was no notice today that I was thirty. Normally there is a comment, "okay thanks, kid" or "you're too young to know", but today it was all about the action. What have you done, decided, worked out with, facilitated? It is really hard. I mean wow. Who knew that this is why my brother makes the big bucks? God is my new employer, but the stuff we are doing together is frightening. It used to be easy to just play with make-up in the mirrors in my bathroom, which were everywhere. Or go hiking in the woods over to Elizabeth's house, where we could go listen to EJ's garage band next door. He was sooo cute. I could hear my Mom yell for me to come home for dinner.

I am ready to come home...come on home.

Count down: 66 days

Oh where oh where has my Rachel gone? Oh where, oh where could she be?

I made an effort to dissappear last night into movies. Turns out that is impossible. Watched a comedy thing that is called the Aristocrats. Yeah, now I know why the lady bagged my movies. It was a documentary on one joke. At first I thought, hmm, how are they going to get two hours out of one joke? Yeah, it was that bad. I turned it off. The really bad part was that it that the joke is not funny. I kept thinking there was a hitch. Nope, just a bad movie. It has been a while since I have had one of those. The other movie was called BRICK. I didn't finish it, but it was well written flick with lots of good young actors who are mostly in transition as far as what part to play. They are too old to be teenagers and too young to be adults. It seemed good so far. I had to go to bed though. Lack of sleep leads to lack of power and that is a dilemma. I think I am going to try to disappear again tonight. I am just not up for dealing with the world today. I am actually really tired (did I mention that I went to bed?not only that I went to bed on time?). I am still tired. Time to bail out on work and go to a business expo (more work, but awake work) because it is next to my house and that means when I am done with the expo I can get home faster! Zip...I'm gone.

Countdown: 71 days

Aint nothin but a God thing...

I am completely exhausted. My house was so clean when I went to bed last night and I had so much on my plate at work today, I didn't sleep. I mean, I slept, but today I feel like I didn't sleep. My mind even in my dreams, I was thinking about what needed to be done, what had been done and if it was acceptable, what might happen if I do it this way, what doesn't happen if that happens, . . .

Megan came and cleaned my house today. She said there was more dust in my home than she'd seen in any house she cleans. And I thought my house was clean.

My board meeting today was filled with personal criticism. I was called cold, unfeeling and unflexible. I should be ashamed of myself and embarrased. And I thought I was friendly, fun and compromising. I thought that I should be confident and have self pride in my work.

Strangely, my reactions were none. I used to react. I used to scream and kick and cry and cuss and drink and smoke. I used to eat pints of icecream. I didn't do that today. I laughed at Megan. Why else would I hire you to clean my clean house? I knew it wasn't clean-clean, only sort of clean. I looked at my hands when I was told I was cold and unfeeling. I don't know that anything would have made any difference. I am sure my feelings were on my face, but I didn't even cry. I held my breath. Can't get in trouble for a look on your face. Can only get in trouble for the words that come out of the mouth. No words. No trouble. I did cry once they were all gone. It was hard not to say anything. It was hard to be publicly called unfeeling and cold. It was even harder to hold my breath. Crying I felt was appropriate and not crying in front of the person who said it was even more appropriate. I didn't hit. I didn't scream. I didn't cuss. I am still sober. I am still without a cigarette. I am still without any icecream.

You know, there is only one way that happens.....Divine Intervention. Today was a good day.

Countdown: 73 Days

For my little brother and his cold...


Brother bought a coconut, he bought it for a dime
His sister had another one, she paid it for a lime.
She put the lime in the coconut, she drank them both up
She put the lime in the coconut, she drank them both up
She put the lime in the coconut, she drank them both up
She put the lime in the coconut, she called the doctor, woke him up,
And said, "Doctor, ain't there nothin' I can take,
I say, Doctor, to relieve this belly ache?
I say, Doctor, ain't there nothin' I can take,
I say, Doctor, to relieve this belly ache?"
"Now let me get this straight ",
Put the lime in the coconut, you drank them both up
Put the lime in the coconut, you drank them both up
Put the lime in the coconut, you drank them both up
Put the lime in the coconut, you called your doctor, woke him up,
And say, 'Doctor, ain't there nothing I can take,
I say, Doctor, to relieve this belly ache?
I say, Doctor, doctor, ain't there nothin' I can take,
I say, Doctor, dooooctor, to relieve this belly ache?'
Put the lime in the coconut, drink them both together,
Put the lime in the coconut, then you feel better,
Put the lime in the coconut, drink them both up,
Put the lime in the coconut, and call me in the morning
Wouh wouh wouh wouh wouh
Brother bought a coconut, he bought it for a dime
His sister had another one, she paid it for a lime.
She put the lime in the coconut, she drank them both up,
She put the lime in the coconut, she called the doctor, woke him up,
Say "Doctor, ain't there nothin' I can take,
I say, Doctor, to relieve this belly ache?
I say, Doctor, ain't there nothin' I can take,
I say Doctor! let me get this straight".
You put the lime in the coconut, drink them both up,
You put the lime in the coconut, drink them both up,
You put the lime in the coconut, drink them both up,
Put the lime in the coconut, you such a silly woman!,
Put the lime in the coconut, drink them both together,
Put the lime in the coconut, then you feel better.
Put the lime in the coconut, drink them both down
Put the lime in the coconut, and call me in the morning
Woo Woo, ain't there nothin' you can take, I say
Woo Woo, to relieve my belly ache,
You say woo woo ain't there nothin' I can take, I say
Woo woo, to relieve your belly ache,
You say yah yah, ain't there nothin' I can take, I say
Waah waah, to relieve this belly ache,
I say doctor!, ain't there nothin' I can take,
I say doctor!, ain't there nothin' I can take,
I say doctor!, ain't there nothin' I can take,
I say Doctor!, you such a silly woman!,
Put the lime in the coconut, drink them both together,
Put the lime in the coconut, then you feel better,
Put the lime in the coconut, drink them both up,
Put the lime in the coconut, and call me in the moooooorning,
Yes, you call me in the morning,
If you call me in the morning, then [X5]

Countdown: 74 days

First things first: Happy Birthday Little Brother!

I'm trying to tell you somethin bout my life...

I went away this weekend to West Virginia. Typically, John & I go up there because our cell phones don't work and our heads stop thinking. We are able to relax, eat and sleep. This was not true for me this weekend. John did some sleeping, and ate a lot! But not I. Question: What size are the tables? Can you take a measuring tape to find out? Is there a dimmer switch in the restaurant so that we can turn the lights up? How are our families ever going to get along if they don't like my son? Is the table for the grooms cake round or square? How big is it? Will the person who is cutting the cake cut small pieces so to use every part? Why doesn't the florist carry baby's breath? How are you going to do your hair? Is there a hair stylist close by who can fix my hair? What does the dress look like? Is it okay that I wear navy blue? What is your mother wearing? Is that going to clash? What color is midnight blue?

So much for that weekend.

I am tired. I did get to bed on time sort of last night. I got up this morning and ran steps, did crunches and push-ups. I have eaten well so far. I haven't seen effective enough results in my dieting (without exercising) so I had to add exercise. I don't know if I am willing to do it tomorrow, but I was today. Time to lose 20 pounds one way or another. I will know all when I go to the doctor again on September 25. I was last weighed there and since they are "THE DOCTOR" they would have better scales right? Somehow I haven't really been motivated to do anything until recently. Michelle gave me a healthy living cook book that I am going to try and eat out of for a while. It has lots of good things and for less calories than say...McDonalds. I have thought about joining Weight Watchers, but I feel bad for complaining about my weight when I am not really fat. I am just not in the right weight range. Anyway...I did eat right when I went to WVA which is hard to do because Mrs. K likes to feeeeeeeeddddd meeeeee...stuff me plenty.

Count down: 75 Days...

Somebody leave the light on...

Oh how I miss school. I have been in training for work for the past two days and I love to learn. I am sure that is something I get from my Dad, the master of disaster student. The man got straight A's on his DOCTORATE. What? That's crazy. Yes, my family. Carter actually ended up with the ability to make straight A's, but I think I got the desire to learn. I talked it over with John and I have wanted to get an advanced degree for some time. I ideally would like to go into law. I don't know that will happen. An Agnes Scott buddy suggested an MPA to enhance what I do. I thought that was a great idea. Now, I have to seek it out. God knows I want to learn. God knows I am ready to go back to school. I also want to see how I will do in school without being drunk. That should be interesting. I was an A-/B+ student in high school. Surely I can be in college. When I am drunk, I am a C- student. That is more than I can say for some drunk college students. I miss the challenge. I miss the academic rhetoric at the dinner table with honest knowledge about the topics. Someone who is not afraid to debate and know that it is not personal. John is about the only person I can do this with, it would be nice to have more people.

Such a dream.

Ring my beeeeeeellllll
Ring my bell...


I love cell phones. The standard phone bills don't give you what a cell phone bill does. In my standard bill it says that I owe the company for $35 a month plus long distance. That is ridiculous. Cell phone bills tell me an inventory of my life over the past month. My cell phone used minutes this month were 1814. What does that mean? It means I TALK ON THE PHONE A LOT. Not that I needed a cell phone bill to tell me that. I remember three things about my thirteenth birthday: 1) I got my ears pierced. 2) I was allowed to wear make-up. 3) I got a telephone in my room. I also remember having cake at Granddaddy's house in Bent Tree and going to the pool with my cousins. I can remember when I got my phone in my room as a teenager, I loved it. I used to stay up until four in the morning talking to my best friend Marlon. He and I couldn't talk enough. Mom would come in and catch me and ope! I had to go. She would be so mad. These days, I am not up until four in the morning, and generally if I am on the phone at that time, something is really wrong. But I make up for lost time when I am awake.

I like to check my minutes on my bill to see who it is that wins the contest of the most minutes used in one sitting. This month, not surprising and the leader most months, at 91 minutes straight....Michelle. I talk to her more than any other human on earth. However, in a surprise second for a once a year phone call at 73 minutes, Aunt Bonnie called from South Carolina. Birthday! Hurrah! Tagging along in third place which is usual because she talks to me on the phone every day, on email sometimes twice a day and normally she puts in at least one good long phone call, but hasn't placed in several months because she doesn't like to talk on the phone for long periods of time....Mom with 44 minutes. So what does all this information tell me? My Mom loves me. Thank goodness. My Aunt is a real talker and I should only afford one of her calls a year! It also tells me that I turned 30 this month. AND it tells me, I had a total and complete mental break down. Thusly, the call with Michelle. She is my spiritual guru. In just an hour and a half she can save my relationship with a best friend, help me keep my job, and convince me that life is worth living. Amazing. That's worth 91 minutes.

Oh! There's my phone now.

I was on my way to the center of the sun

When I lost my wings and fell into a crowd

Some days I wonder what planet I am on. I hear people say stay positive, don't be a negative person. Don't worry, be happy. Love is all around. I see that people write books on the power of positive thinking. Its attitude that will get you altitude. The thing I can't figure is what happens when there is just a bad day. I mean, yesterday I lost all hope to have a good day. It was trucking along in a hypnotic way and took a left turn into bad day-ness. There was no stopping it. I thought surely, surely something good was going to come along. Nope. Bad Day. What is worse, is there is no one to blame. When a dog is bad you say bad dog. When a child is bad, you say bad boy, bad girl. When a day is bad...there is no way to make it change or let it know...it was in error. People tell me all the time that I am a negative person and should take a look at that. I have decided that I Don't Care. I am not a murderer. I am not beating people up in the street. I am not insulting inncocent people. I am just me. If that means sometimes I am negative, then sometimes I am negative. Some days are just bad days and they eat me for lunch. I tried desperately to put a good spin on yesterday, there is no way. No spin. It was unrighteous and it was my turn.

Today, I am totally hungover from yesterday. Today, I am going to sink into movies, clean my house and vanish for a few hours. No work, no fiancee, no girlfriends, no wedding. Just take a break. Maybe I will get my nails done too. Bleck. Recoop is what I am desperate for...rest. Rest would be really good. Going to BJ's would be really good, but I have to wait until next weekend. Rest. Maybe. Rest.