Back to Reality

Went surfing here in California yesterday. It's hard to believe it's the same ocean as the one I swam/surfed in, in Hawaii. The water is about forty degrees colder here. The waves are bigger and meaner. Whereas the water in Hawaii was crystal clear, the water here is murky and seaweed-filled. It was one of those days where it felt like I couldn't do anything right in the water. Huge clumps of seaweed kept getting tangled up in my leash, impeding movement. The currents were strong, and I felt like I spent most of my energy just trying to stay in the same spot, so I didn't have much left for paddling for waves. And the waves were closing out. I stupidly paddled into a couple of bad closeouts. That's one of the worst feelings, being washing-machined. The waves tumble you. If you're lucky, you're just disoriented when you come back up. If you're unlucky, the force of the wave throws you toward the bottom of the ocean, where you can hit your head on a rock (which has happened to me), or get your leash tangled on a rock and get trapped. If you're lucky, when you come back up the coast is clear. If you're unlucky, you might come back up to see a surfboard (your own or someone else's) hurtling at you. Or, as happened to me yesterday, you come back up just in time to see the next wave - a wall of water - coming at you and you have to dive back under before you have time to really even catch your breath.

Back!

Just got back this morning, on a red-eye so I'm a little fuzzy-headed. Hawaii was awesome (as is to be expected). Temps in the eighties, perfect waves, water a beautiful aquamarine. Didn't have my own board so had to rent one, which was the only not-so-great thing. The rental boards kind of sucked. I had one that was like a boat. Not sure what happened, but that board definitely got the best of me. Came out of the water bruised all over, and I hadn't even fallen! It was like I got bruised just touching it. Still, it was incredible to be in the water without a wetsuit and to not be at all cold! And sitting out there, I saw these tropical fish swimming around in the water near my feet. The water was unbelievably clear. We hiked Diamondhead, and even from the top, we could see the bottom of the ocean below us. Thanks to my sister for the trip, which was such a great bday gift, it more than made up for a not-so-great birthday.

Reve

- ...Do we walk in legends or on the green earth in the daylight?
- A man may do both.

- The Lord of the Rings, J.R.R. Tolkien

Counting Blessings

One of the unexpected benefits to not working - at least, not working a regular job, or maybe just a law firm job - is a renewed appreciation of what a beautiful place this is. Seasons had always escaped me before: no matter what month it was, what the weather outside, my office always looked the same, and my office was all I saw. Now I actually get to go outside during daylight hours, and it's pretty amazing. I'd forgotten how blue the sky is here. It's full-on spring now, and the trees are budding, plants are flowering everywhere. Even just driving down the street to the grocery store is a pleasure.

On an unrelated note (although this could still fall under the category of blessings), I am so happy that we didn't get rid of our stove. It's one of those electric, ceramic ones. When we first bought the house, I was adamant that it had to go (as I've mentioned before, I'm something of a Luddite in the kitchen). I wanted to replace it with one of those hulking gas Viking stoves with the roaring flames. In the final event, though, there was too much else to do, we didn't have a gas line running to the stove and would have had to have someone out to put one in (and I have no success with contractors), so we just left it. I'm glad we did. It is SO easy to clean, it heats up much more quickly, and, I think for that reason, cooks just as well as a gas stove.

Temper

What's the inverse of schadenfreude? Pettiness, maliciousness - not exact enough. A lack of gratitude for what you have, constantly believing that the grass is greener elsewhere, that someone else's life is (undeservedly) better than yours. These feelings plague me. The only thing I can say for myself is that I am ashamed of them, and, with my rational mind, I know that there is no one I would trade places with for even a day. I have been incredibly blessed, far more than I could ever deserve. I think at the root of all my negativity is my anxiety. It's like an evil mushroom sending toxic sprays out into the ground all around it. I've always been an anxious person, always been a worrier, but it's been worse lately and I don't know why. So many people out there have real problems: where their next meal is coming from, illnesses, etc. I only have neuroses. Isn't this what will power is for?

Getting a Grip

I was stood up by yet another contractor yesterday. Lovely.

I feel this low-grade anxiety humming in the back of my head like a motor. I've spent a lot of time lately trying to pinpoint its source, but not much luck so far. Instead, I've been acting like a mal-adjusted sprinkler head, spewing discontent in random directions. Well, not so random. It's more like a heightening of frustrations I already had. Thankfully, I'm going on vacation next week. (Can I call it a vacation, even though I have no "real" job from which to vacate?) Unfortunately sans husband, but it'll give me time to hang out with my sister. Who knows, maybe Hawaii will help me unwind. Looking forward to the surf.

The Ark, Reprised

When you get married, one of the things you have to get used to is how all your friends suddenly become "couple friends." Nearly all of our friends (at least, the ones we've made since we've been married, and not counting the ones who were our friends pre-wedding) come in packages of two. It makes sense, I suppose: everyone works hard, you don't have much time to spend with your spouse/significant other, so when you go out you want to go out together. I know I don't enjoy going out without my husband.

We went out with such a pair of our couple friends a few nights ago, and the couple phenomenon was duly noted amongst the four of us. Our friends then shared that one of the things they often discuss is, should a pair of their couple friends break up and they could no longer keep both of them in their lives, which one they would choose to keep. (It was a little awkward; my husband and I glanced at each other, both of us wondering which one of us they had decided on.) But normally, I don't think it's a tough decision. Even with couple friends, there's almost always one you feel closer to, the one who is the reason for the four of you hanging out together at all, usually the one you met first.

Becoming Handy

Rule number one of home ownership: things will break. Corresponding rules: plumbers charge > $150/hour (clearly I entered the wrong profession); contractors charge a gazillion dollars an hour, and, moreover, will not return your phone calls or keep appointments;
and, finally, your average, run-of-the-mill, non-bankruptcy-causing handyman has gone extinct.

Corollary to the above rules: you must learn to do many things yourself. Unless, of course, you have a lot of money and don't mind spending it all on routine house maintenance.

So, here are the things I have learned to do since purchasing the house:

• diagnose common plumbing issues;
  
• replace toilet fill valves and other toilet anatomy miscellanea;
• install drapery rods and other window treatments;
• engage in minor sprinkler repairs;
• dig holes and plant stuff;
• caulk many, many things (it's amazing how many problems can be solved by a tube of caulk);
  
• find studs;
• drill holes and attach stuff.

I've gotten to know my local Home Depot very well.

And I've gotten to spend much quality time with my sewing machine, making drapes, matching pillows, etc.

In addition, I now have a yard (both front and back) full of living things whose lives depend largely on my vigilance. Many, many hours a day are spent watering, weeding, digging, spraying, etc., etc. Someone suggested using a gardening service, but, being descended from my father, a master gardener, I feel like that would be a blow to the pride and honor of my family, not to mention cheating.

With all of this, who has time to work?

Tennis

To me, the best songs are the ones that remind me of something. I heard Alanis Morissette on the radio today. While I was in New Zealand, my cousin played her first CD non-stop. It was in New Zealand, skin cancer capitol of the world, that I first played on an indoor tennis court. Actually, it was the only time I've ever played on an indoor tennis court.

Tennis saved me during high school. Only in my hours on the court could I forget about the body of which I was so ashamed (believing myself to be fat and ugly). Only on the court did I feel in control. During the summers, I would sometimes play seven hours a day; sometimes with a friend, sometimes with one or another of my coaches, sometimes by myself, practicing my serve over and over and over again, till my eyes were bloodshot from staring into the sun. There were nights when I couldn't fall asleep, replaying certain points in my head, seeing the tennis ball in vivid color behind my closed eyelids, a zahir. I played till my hands blistered and bled, till my muscles would no longer support me. I wrote my college essays about tennis.

And tennis extracted a price from me. The pains I have now - my knees, my wrists, the shoulder I dislocate time and again - are all from those hours I spent. Moreover, tennis cost me one of my best friends at the time. I was voted Most Valuable Player our senior year, and she never forgave me for it. We both knew she was the better player, but I won more matches and our coach and teammates loved me for it.

I wonder sometimes what she's doing now, if she's happy. I wonder how well we ever knew each other, and if she would recognize me if she saw me now. I don't often play anymore. I've long since lost the trophies, misplaced the pictures. I wonder if I've really changed all that much, or if tennis could somehow save me again.

Phasing Out

above these walls of concrete and glass, these cars, these people, and me, the sky is a cotton-candy blue pulling apart in wisps of white cloud, close enough to reach it is tasteless. i sit in the car in the cold with the engine off and behind the strip mall i see hills green from winter rain, peaked with radio towers like the spindles of a magic loom to put me into a deep, deep sleep from which i can only be awakened by magic. safe in here and people's voices only come at me muffled, their faces through the glass like animals in a cage at the zoo with me safe on the other side. bright morning california morning but it all feels the same.

Procrastination

Last night's dinner: baked mahimahi breaded in a mixture of ground macadamia nuts, coconut milk, flour, and bread crumbs, and an artichoke risotto. I used rice vinegar in the risotto, which added an interesting flavor - I kind of liked it. I'd had an artichoke risotto in Rome, and was trying to re-create it. Ditto with the mahimahi, although that was not in Rome but somewhere in the U.S. I was winging it and a little nervous about how everything was going to turn out, but it worked.

These are the things I think about while I should be writing.

Awesome Love

Benny Hester sings a song called "When God Ran." It starts off with a list of some of God's characteristics: "Almighty God, the great I am, immovable rock, omnipotent, powerful, awesome Lord, victorious warrior, commanding king of kings, mighty conqueror." Then it goes on: "And the only time, the only time I ever saw Him run, was when He ran to me, took me in His arms, held my head to his chest, said 'My son's come home again.' Lifted my face, wiped the tears from my eyes, with forgiveness in His voice He said, 'Son, do you know I still love you?'"

I think I manage to avoid some of the obvious sins, but I've left God, hurt Him, many, many times with my not-so-obvious (to the world anyway) sins. Like my lack of faith. Despite the countless number of times that He's shown me how much He loves me, whenever I get into a rut or things stop going my way, I feel like He's abandoned me, or that He's let me down. I stop believing in His plan. Especially when it comes to my career-life, I've spent the last few months wondering if He has a plan for me at all.

I've been struggling to deal with the after-effects of giving up my career as a lawyer: the loss of salary, the loss of prestige, and of concomitant self-respect. My husband ran into a partner that I used to work for, who told him that I was one of the best associates he'd had. Immodest as it sounds, I knew it already. I was a good lawyer, a very good lawyer. But that just makes it harder for me to feel like I've done the right thing, dropping my job when I was doing so well.

What makes it worse is that my mental struggles over the rightness of what I've done have made it harder for me to write. And that, in turn, makes me feel even worse about giving up my legal career. All of this sends me whining back to God: "Why, Lord? Why are You silent? Why aren't You leading me/telling me what to do?"

I've been looking for signs, even though I know God is more subtle than that. I had to leave the house today to run an errand. I was wearing my college sweatshirt. Driving over to the store, I was, as usual, thinking about my job-less state and wondering whether I should just give up on the writing thing, feeling bad about being "unemployed." It was the middle of the afternoon, the time of day when those gainfully employed are not free to run around to the stores. An old man in line ahead of me looked at my sweatshirt. "I went to that college," he said. "Are you in school there?" "Graduated," I said. He looked at me, "Graduated and not employed?" I muttered something and left to go wait in another line. I can't stand nosy strangers. But the same thing happened in the other line! Another old man, another conversation about my sweatshirt, another remark about how I'm not working.

Coincidence? Some sort of sign? And if so, of what? Is He trying to tell me through these various old men that I should get a real job? I feel like I'm having a panic attack, my anxiety rising up through my throat and choking me. Lord, I do believe. Help me in mine unbelief.