eunice ann

tales of a girl trying to make sense of it all.

Having fun blogging again

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I spent the better part of two days fixing up post categories and reading through old posts. It’s been fun. And it made me realize how much I used to blog. There were some weeks that I not only blogged daily, but sometimes, several times a day. Always the one with something to say. Yep, that’s me.

I seem to be more inspired to blog these days than anything else, which I suppose is a symptom of the thing I fear most in life and thus, never talk about in regards to myself.

I’ve let go of my fear of the “what if” factor – and finally quit caring who might read what I have to say, and worse yet, what they would do with the information. Sometimes it’s easier to process my emotions this way.

I’m not big on confrontation, never have been. It’s probably why I stayed married for years longer than I wanted to until it blew up in my face. It’s why the bank still owes me $35 that they took in error. It’s why my sister and I shut down and locked ourselves in my bedroom on Easter. Confrontation sucks. I guess that makes me a passive/aggressive. I would much rather show someone I’m pissed than tell them. You’d think after all this time I would know it’s not so scary.

I find that I am reading a lot of really great blogs these days – perhaps that is part of my inspiration to write more. I like to write.

I’m having fun with my writing project, even though it’s stirred up a lot of emotion I have either boxed up or never dealt with in the first place. Still not quite ready to share with the world, but if you want to know where to find it, just ask and I might tell you.

I have very little patience for idiots

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I must be getting old. I have never had much tolerance for ineptitude, but lately, it seems that people being morons makes me irritable more than usual.

Take, for example, this traffic faux pas I have witnessed FOUR times in the past week. Traffic light has green turn arrow for left turn. Traffic proceeds as it should. Green arrow yellows, then dims, indicating that cross-traffic now has right-of-way. Left turners continue to turn – several cars deep – as if they didn’t notice (or care) that traffic is coming at them. Oncoming traffic waits patiently to avoid an accident, misses light, waits for new cycle.

Or my experience taking my camera to get it cleaned and repaired for the first time. Someone used my camera at one of our church events and broke the on-camera flash. It still fires, but it doesn’t snap back into place as it’s supposed to, which is really just irritating more than anything. I explained the problem to the repair shop, they quoted parts and labor, along with a three-week wait time. Since I needed my camera before they would have it ready, I asked if I could have it cleaned, pick it up, and order the part so it would be in by the time I was able to bring the camera back in. I spoke to three different people on five occasions, explaining what I wanted to do. The last person I spoke with assured me I could do things the way I needed to without any trouble. I was less than impressed when I picked up the camera yesterday to learn that ALL of the notes on the repair, including the part that needed to be ordered, had been deleted from the computer when I asked them to hold off on the repair. So it’s back to square one. With another repair shop.

I realize in this day and age that common sense is anything but. Even so, is it too much to expect that people to use their gray matter up top?

Hypnosis help

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If you’ve been reading my blog for some time, you know that I was seeing a hypnotherapist for a period after my divorce, and then again when I was pregnant. I’ve actually become friends with my therapist since then, and have enjoyed learning more about the mind-body connection. It really is fascinating, and hypnosis is an experience I cannot describe in words.  It’s like explaining the love a parent feels for a child – you can use words to describe it, but only someone who has experienced it genuinely understands how amazing it is.

I talk openly about my experience with hypnosis, even though it draws a lot of strange looks and blank stares. People that are into yoga, Reiki, psychology, or naturopathic medicine usually listen intently to my stories about giving birth comfortably without meds and dealing with anger, hurt, and learning to confront my demons. Everyone else I’m sure thinks I’m nuts. It usually comes with a lot of questions, such as, “how is that possible?” and comments like, “that is unbelievable.”

There’s a certain stigma surrounding hypnosis that is probably the reason for this. When you say, “hypnosis,” most people think of a magic act where a pretty girl clad in a cocktail dress quacks like a duck in front of a room full of strangers. A lot of people think that it’s some sort of mind control, but really, it’s just a tool used to connect with your inner self.

Today, I received an email from Shari, asking me to speak with a potential client about my experience with hypnosis. I was thrilled and flattered that she had thought of me.  I look forward to talking with this woman and sharing my experience with her, and hope she decides to try it for herself.

No bunny knows a better Easter

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I really like Easter, I don’t know why though. Maybe it’s the Cadbury eggs, or maybe it’s the pretty dresses all the girls wear to church. Maybe it’s because it’s on the cusp of spring and it brings the feeling of renewal to my life. Or maybe it’s just because it means that my birthday is just around the corner. Whatever it is, I have a lot of great Easter memories. There is one in particular that stands out in my mind though…

It was 1990 and we had flown down to Georgia to visit my grandparents. Coupled with a surprise trip to Disney World, it was one of the best vacations I can remember. I was “10, goin’ on 11” and we celebrated my birthday at my great grandma’s house the night before.

Easter morning, we awoke to three very large baskets in the kitchen, overflowing with candy, eggs, and stuffed animals. We ate breakfast and dressed for church in our frilly dresses, gloves and hats. When we arrived at the church, it was an experience like none other. Let me just tell you that I grew up in a quiet Presbyterian church in northern Arizona. This was not a worship service like I was used to.

First off, my dad was the only white guy in the whole building. I guess one can expect as much when attending a church in a black neighborhood in the South, but having grown up in Arizona, where there is a broad racial diversity, this was new to me. Then I noticed that all the ladies were accessorized with big fans and big hats and fancy gloves. Every. Last. One. I suddenly felt like Scarlett O’Hara was going to make a grand entrance momentarily. As I looked around and started to get filled with the excitement of  the room, suddenly, the room was filled with music.

Gospel music.

Oh boy, I was in a real live “Hallelujah church,” as I called it. The choir was going crazy, everyone was singing and dancing, clapping their hands and grooving to the music. The preacher came out with his booming voice:

“Jesus Christ is risen!”

“Amen! Hallelujah!” The crowd exclaimed, whooping and hollering.

Okay that was different. Don’t they know that the correct response is, “He is risen indeed,” in the most somber and depressing tone possible.

The sermon carried on. Every time the teacher paused for a moment, several congregation members would shout out, “Praise God!” or “Hallelujah!” or “Amen Jesus!” My sister finally leaned over and asked my mom why everyone was being so rude and interrupting the preacher while he was talking. Glad she had the guts to speak up, because I was wondering the same.

Church that day was a spectacle. It was a celebration, indeed, the way that Easter should be. Of all the Easter services I’ve ever attended, that one was certainly the most entertaining.

What the 101 list is all about

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I mentioned in my 101 list that several of the photogs I met last summer had completed this exercise – to make a list of 101 goals to complete over 1001 days. For you math whizzes out there, that’s just shy of three years, or one goal every ten days. Now some of my goals are certainly lofty, especially to achieve in the next few years, but they can be done. I have to reserve the right to re-evaluate the list and revise, I suppose.

The reason this exercise was so fascinating to me is that I have heard it said that people who write down their goals are nine times more likely to achieve them than those that don’t. Nine times!! Wow. I think there’s some level of not only accountability that comes with writing them down, but a sense of accomplishment that comes from crossing it off. Plus, I’m a dreamer – I have an entire fantasy world in my head. Don’t we all?

I listed them in no particular order, it’s just the way they came out when I was thinking about it. I actually had one of my (many) notebooks in my purse for a few weeks while I thought of them, writing each one down until I had 101. I noticed a definite trend towards travel – probably because a) I love to travel and b) I haven’t done much of it since I had a kid (cost of travel being double and all…). But I have a lot of friends that I have in different places that I would like to see one of these days. So yes. Lots of travel.

I also have a lot of goals geared towards my photography business. In 2004, I photographed my first wedding and decided I definitely wanted to be a photographer when I grew up. I have only sort of worked toward that goal, mostly due to limiting factors such as money and time, but I am constantly disappointed with myself when I see many friends pick up photography and do something with it. As in, they make money. I want to be that person too. That’s what all the photography stuff is all about.

I mostly wanted to do this because I’m a huge procrastinator. And I mean major. It is, perhaps, one of my biggest weaknesses. I’m hoping that, by trying to accomplish so much in a relatively short period of time, I will learn not to put off until tomorrow.

So I’m excited to see what comes of all of this.

I encourage you to wonder what you would put on your own list and see what comes out! 101 too much? Start with ten that you can accomplish in a year.

Here are the rules:

1. Tasks must be specific with a result that is measurable and clearly defined. If you can’t determine that you hit you goal (i.e. get as many Facebook fans as I can) , or if it’s ambiguous (I want to travel), what’s the point?

2. Tasks must represent some amount of stretching — it is not designed to be a long “To-Do List.” Get creative. Think of things you WANT to accomplish, not things that you must do.

3. Publicly post it for the world to see. We’ll keep you accountable and cheer you on. Promise.

Here we go

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Okay folks, I am looking over my 101 list and it’s time I tackle #62: Blog every day for a month.

I used to be really great about blogging. Probably because, like many things I do obsessively, I was addicted to blogging. It was fun. It was a release. Plus, I was recently divorced, (mostly) single,  new in a town where I had two friends, and sold plastic bags for a living, so I had oodles of time to digest my many thoughts (yes, I admit, some days, I did just spew them out there).

A lot has changed since then. I’m still single and enjoying it, but I’m also the mother to probably the world’s most adorable little (almost) four year old little girl. So, yes, my world (and thus, time for blogging) has changed drastically.

But I still have a lot to talk/complain/rejoice about. So I’m going to start doing more of that again. Stay tuned. Or don’t. Whatever.

I did it!

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Well folks, I know you have all been watching my downward spiral over the past couple of years, up to and including the moment about a year ago that I needed to take a step back and re-evaluate my life. I think I actually knew long before I admitted it out loud that I needed to stop, but pride, gosh darn it, got the better of me.

I didn’t come back home easily or with a glad heart. And I know that I have bitched about it being difficult and miserable. Some days, it still is.

But I persevered.

I recently took a job, solely because of where I thought it would get me in life, that wasn’t the best offer on the table, or even the first. It was funny how I spent six weeks applying for jobs and interviewing and desperately trying to find a job with no luck, and one day, as I was driving up to Denver, I got three offers between Flagstaff and Santa Fe. I spent the weekend chewing it over, and decided to accept the position that not only was the lowest-paying, it was a part-time gig to boot. But it had the most potential.

And for those of you that know that I’ve had as many jobs as I’ve had addresses in the past four years (a LOT), to have potential is the key to me finding happiness.

My gamble paid off.

On Sunday, I was asked to step into a full-time role and work more directly with the marketing department of our company. Marketing!! I gladly said yes, figuring that it would be more of the same type of work I’ve been doing the past couple of weeks. Today, I learned that I am taking on a full-fledged assistant role and will be responsible for not only the design of print materials, but getting our social media presence going!

It only took me two years, but I finally cracked into the field I’ve been trying to break for some time. That feels amazing.

Sometimes, you have to take a step back before you can move forward.

Major Fail.

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Yesterday morning, I decided it would be fun to catch my Dodgers play one of their last spring training games, now that they play in AZ. I packed Alissa in the car, along with all of our Dodger gear and took her to the Valley to experience her first ever Dodger game.

When I first found out that I was having a girl four years ago, I bought a pink Dodger hat for her, knowing that it would be a few years before she grew into it and was old enough to take to a game. She wore her little hat proudly yesterday and was filled with excitement as we made our way to the stadium. She was so cute and I was stoked.

As we sat in traffic, waiting to get into the parking lot, I saw a sign on one corner – “event sold out.” No. No. No…this can’t be happening. Sold out? Who cares about a stupid spring training game?

Well, me and ten thousand other people. I combed the parking lot and couldn’t even find so much as a scalper to scrounge a couple of extra tickets. So I turned the car around. When I had to tell Alissa what happened, she lost it.

An all out temper tantrum ensued, crying, screaming and kicking included. “Mom! I want to go to the baseball game! I wanna go! I wanna gooooooooooooooooooooo!!” More crying and screaming, a couple of huffs and then in the most disdainful voice possible, “Mom, you’ve ruined my first Dodger game.”

Okay, that was a knife straight to the heart.

I didn’t even think to buy tickets ahead of time. I had thought about maybe going a few weeks ago, but didn’t know for sure if I could. I’m used to buying tickets to Rockies games, where you can walk up five minutes before the game and have your pick of the best seats in the house. I didn’t expect at all that the event would be sold out.

Fortunately, I was able to rectify the situation with lunch at Red Robin and a dip in the pool, but I tell you, I felt like the world’s worst mom. On the bright side, I am now prepared so I don’t screw up the trip I have planned for Disneyland next summer.

These are the moments I love being a parent.

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Achy Breaky PonyAlissa has definitely hit the point of her life where she likes to push the limits. She clearly knows right from wrong and has figured out how to manipulate to get her way. Which means that at not even four, she’s already just like I was at 15. Oh, the parental curse. I’m screwed.

But tonight, when I went in to tuck her in for bed, only to find two pair of scissors on the bed, along with a few snippets of doll hair, I had to find which poor doll got the treatment, only to find that five of them got it. Frantically, I searched to see if any of my original ponies got clipped, to find that they hadn’t (although one of them, I had given a hair cut once upon a time). As I started to yell at her for having scissors (she knows she’s not supposed to use scissors without permission or supervision) and destroying her toys, I looked down at this one to notice the shape of the cut – a first class mullet.

I immediately started laughing so hard, I pretty much lost all of my firm parental scolding credibility, but the laugh was worth it. And in the moment, I realized that as mad as I was that she ruined her toys, I loved her so much for her innocence in it all. And I think that is what it’s all about.

Still on my Rocky Mountain high

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If there’s anything that could make me more homesick for Denver than the amazing two weeks I just spent there, I don’t want to know what it is.
The past two weeks of my life were awesome. I had a great show, my display at the restaurant was extended, I got to see a number of friends I miss…a girl couldn’t ask for much more. Except a steady paying job and a reasonably priced place to rent?

I’ve been back 24 hours and I am so depressed that I had to leave.