9/11

I was riding the USU shuttle bus up to campus. The radio in the bus was on and suddenly it was very quiet. The bus was packed...as many people standing as sitting...but all of the sudden the light-hearted chatter fizzled and we started really listening. When I got to campus, students were gathered around the tvs watching the news...I stayed and watched for a bit and then headed to class. I'm still grateful I missed the live coverage of the second plane hitting.

Our professor walked in with a cheery welcome and asked us all what was wrong...we were surprised she hadn't heard anything and we all at once started talking to fill her in. As a class we processed our thoughts (this is the benefit of being in a social work major...we process a lot). I remember the next professor (who was teaching some kind of global class...) trying to be calm but sounding anything but as she told us how things would be okay and how we as a nation would recover from this. 

Don't remember much about the rest of the day...except that I felt scared...and older. I thought "if you wanted to wipe out a bunch of people at a time, a college campus would be a good way to do it..." but then quickly thought "but I'm in Utah...we're not exactly the most interesting target." Watched the news most of the day...

Anyway. Tenth anniversaries are big I guess. I've been trying to figure out why, maybe because it's been long enough to see change and progress, but short enough to still really feel the impact. I still feel it. Surprises me how much I do, considering how far I live from NYC and how the events of that day did not affect my life nearly as much as they did the lives of hundreds of thousands. But I guess it affected all of us in terms of realizing how vulnerable we are...how evil some people can be...and how fragile life is.

In 2009 I went to NYC with Mom, Linds, Kim and Suz. We had a great trip...while there we went to ground zero. There wasn't much to see because the fences were too high to see over...but we did walk to St. Paul's cathedral. 

There were candles lit and signs hung...but the ones that got me were cards and drawings like this one:

I love the response from Joe...a real fire fighter...

On another one, a child had written these words in alternating red and blue marker:

 "We really love our country, thanks for helping the people. We want                                     to punish the terrorists. Thanks for helping clean up the city.                                                                               I hope you get the job done and you get to go home to your family."

Yep...I was just riiiiight crying there in St. Paul's. 

Anyway. I'm surprised at how much I've cried in the last few days. For some reason, I feel like it's not warranted...like I wasn't close enough to it all to care that much....but...I do and I cried when I read from cover to cover the 9/11 special edition of Time. I cried when I watched this: "9/11 Boatlift", a youtube video about the water rescues that took place that day. I sighed when I found out Areta flew home yesterday...and is not flying today. Because...just in case... (She did tell me the airport and her flight were both pretty much empty...someone from the news interviewed her and got video of her hugging her sister goodbye before she got back on the play to head home). And I'm wondering how my buddy from this flight is doing today, on his birthday.

I don't know that I'll ever be able to watch footage of the firefighters...rushing in as everyone else was rushing out...without feeling so much gratitude swirled in tears rise up. There is evil in the world, but there is so much more good. And for that, I am grateful.

Oh! thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand
Between their loved home and the war's desolation!
Blest with victory and peace, may the heav'n rescued land
Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation.
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto: "In God is our trust."
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

Googleplex and Stuff

• Washed my car today. BY HAND. Didn't think to check the weather. Yep, rain tonight and tomorrow. Nice. At least I burned some calories. Bodybugg will be happy.

• Almost chose today as the day I start my life of alcoholism...due to being in my office (today is Saturday...so this was the first problem)...attempting to enter info into Quickbooks. Shane, the friendly "video tutorial" boy promised to have me "on the road to saving time, saving money and being more organized in no time" but mentioned nothing about sending me towards a dark and dangerous road. Shane, you let me down. (Reader: I did not drink alcohol).

• I love when my clients teach me things...including definition for the word "googol"..."it's the biggest number ever...and bigger than the one after that...like...you can't ever get that big. It's the highest number there is. But after that." So, in case you didn't know where "Google" got its "googol".... 
• Googolplex: the number 10 raised to the power of Googol...see, I'm good at math
• And if you're thinking "sounds like "googol" was invented by a 9-year old," you're right. No wonder 9-year olds today are smitten with the word.

• Did you know you can blend 2 cups of cottage cheese with a Hidden Valley Ranch packet and thus drastically increase the amount of vegetables you eat in a week? More math for you.

• I started swimming. I'm a swimmer....or...at least I have the swim cap, goggles and ear plugs to make it seem as if. But I will tell you this: having goggles drastically reduces the amount of time a swimmer spends pulling arms out of/off of floaty lane lines and/or cement pool walls. Definitely worth $13. Apparently the nice linear tile design at the bottom of the pool is not just for looks...and if you can actually SEE, it will keep you on "the straight and narrow" so your fellow pool mates won't wish you would just drown already.

• There is such thing as Aqua Zumba. It is pretty magical. And Maria M. is changing my life one little "cupid shuffle" at a time...on land and in the sea. That Cupid, he's single-handedly bringing back line dancing...at least for all those who believe in Zumba.

• And on that note....(kinda), I still really want to participate in a flash mob. Maybe like this. (Just remember, it's not "shorty hot pocket...") If I can't BE in one...I'd at least like to SEE one... This one was local...WHY wasn't I at Tempe Town Marketplace that day?!?!

• I think that is all for now. I'm sure you've been sufficiently enlightened...

My Office...

Several months ago, my dear friend Kathy came to do a photo shoot at my office. Wanted to share because I love her work and because I want to share with you a little of "my world." This is where I spend a lot of my time...it's cozy and fun and I love that I have a job I love with little people I adore. (As a side note...the little girl in these pictures is NOT a client, she's Kathy's little girl, Ryann...who I adore. She and I are good buddies...I love when I walk in the door at her house and she squeals "Jeweeeee!" yep...melts me).

my desk...and "zazu" the bird

kid art...things kids give me and/or ask me to hang

can't get enough of this backwards "j"...loved that kid,

pretty much the cutest 4-year old ever...

client couch and friends ginger, zeke and leo

love this lamp...have yet to determine if this is "hank" or "elle"

my chair, bookshelf and "bear"...what?! i was out of names, gosh!

love that she got a picture of my shoes on the printer...

because i always take my shoes off once the kids and i get started

best counselor in the "wold?" not sure about that

but how do i ever throw this away?!?!

sandtray with Ry

tickle time...and look at my wild gypsy skirt??

it's pretty intense

princess prep...

that face...are you kiddin' me?!

So I might get in trouble for posting the last three...turns out most every photographer feels more comfortable BEHIND that camera than in front of it...and Kathy is no exception. Hard to say how much I love Kath...she is gentle and soft...but fun and spunky. She is an incredible mom who loves her children so much and does such a great job as a mom. I love her and love that she includes me as part of her family...love how welcome I always feel in her home. Love you big, Kath...thanks again for the shoot...and for letting me take a few of you!

A+ and Stuff

I survived online traffic school. It took 4 hours. There was no way to speed it up. I may now be suffering from post-traumatic traffic teaching time. (Sounds serious, right?) It's not yet in the DSM...but should be. The page has a designated amount of time you HAVE to have it open before moving on...usually 2 minutes longer than I needed to read the material. Luckily I was able to catch up in the world of Facebook and email in the interim.

I am pleased to say I did not miss one quiz question and on the final exam I missed only one:"Question: If you do not pass this exam you can...." Duh, I wasn't planning on not passing so I didn't even consider that option...or get that question right. That miss brought me down to a 96%. Still, I'll take it. For a person with a possible case of severe ADHD, a 96% on a 4-hour deal is acceptable.

I did learn a few valuable things. But I still feel that I am, in my heart, a race car driver who is in serious need of an upgrade (while the fuel-efficient Corolla is an economical choice, it lacks much when it comes to power...which may be...a good thing for me right now...). In heaven I hope there is a place for people to drive as fast as they want...with NO motocops or photo ticket cameras. The Celestial Autobahn. Admit it, you're interested.

In the meanwhile, I'm back to being hypervigilant ....boo.

In other news....it's hot here. I'm sure you've heard. It makes me laugh that the weather app on my phone says "Hot" up to 108 and jumps to "very hot" around 109. Really? Because I thought 108 was feeling hot-ish.

Work is good, However, I am in desperate need of tax advice...any of you readers out there savvy about small business tax rules? If so, email me, I'd love to ask you a few questions.

Church is now at 8 am. Which means Sundays are now a long day. Love it. I love being out by 11 am...

Last tidbits:

-I have gotten addicted to the flat bread option at Subway...who knew my love for Subway would ever return after the summers of 1990-1998 when we ate there daily. (Rand, Lindsay...someone confirm that this was also your reality?!?)

-I recently went to Flagstaff for a training. While there I bought a mood ring, which is such a Flagstaff-y thing to buy. But I gotta say, for $2.95, it's putting everything Claire's has ever offered to shame. I realize I'm about 23 years too old for a mood ring. But since when has that stopped me? And...let's be honest, my therapy kids are gonna eat it up.

-Speaking of therapy kids...favorite moment of last week was when a cute 3-yr old boy was dunking Green Lantern, Superman and Spiderman in "sand quick." Love that he calls it that.

-I am exuding every last ounce of restraint and REALLY developing my restraint while waiting til October to get a new phone...I'll be up for a new one then and also praying iPhone 5 happens to be out then. I'm not holding my breath though...If Apple products weren't so amazing, I'd totally boycott them for the way they jerk us around... My sissy Droid works about 62% of the time so if you're ever talking to me and then suddenly...you're not...do not blame my possible ADHD...rather, just call me back...in about October.

I believe that is all. Carry on.

For The Love...

Bad News Folks. July 12th marked the end of an era. Which era, you ask? Well, the one wherein I was a noble, upstanding citizen with ZERO traffic violations. (Lasted 33 months, which I feel is commendable).

Yeah. Photo ticket. What kills me is that I was on the way to the temple...the day before I was leaving town for 10 days...and I was debating going because I had to so much to do. Apparently I had so much to do that I decided to possibly (okay, fine, undeniably...photo evidence) run a red light. Which is a pretty big (big=expensive) deal in Arizona...because I think AZ is the red-light running capital of the world. I swear to you I broke the plane prior to the light turning red...and I know all about "breaking the plane" from back in 2008 when I used to speed and had to go to traffic school. So. Luckily I can do online defensive driving school for a mere $200. For the love. Let that be a lesson friends...if you go to the temple...go SLOWLY.

Now...on with happy news...these are the things for which I am grateful today:

1-living 5 minutes from work and being able to come home for lunch

2-having had the opportunity to hike Havasupai (pictures to come)

3-things going well in private practice (yeah, I started one...need to write about that one day)

4-for new friends who make life fun

5-for living in a place where I get to wear flip flops pretty much year round. LUCKY!

Fair vs. Not Fair

Sitting here...attempting to work on my gospel doctrine lesson. It is amazing that I always have 3 weeks to prepare and still end up doing it Friday or Saturday. I am usually thinking about it for all of 3 weeks, but just have to sit down and focus to "finish" it. It's the "focus" part that I usually get stuck on...no big surprise there...

I am not at my house tonight...watching a good friend's children today and tomorrow. Adorable blonde-haired, blue-eyed little wonders...almost 3 and 5...tonight included several rounds of "Don't Break the Ice," dinner, a t-ball game where big brother did fantastic and I learned that little brother is pretty impressive at throwing and catching a ball. Then bath time...snuggle time, stories and songs. I always hope they won't ask for singing because their mom has an amazing voice...and...well...mine is...just pretty average. But when they DID ask for songs tonight, I thought maybe if I mixed it up and sang in Spanish, that would present enough of a distraction...kind of worked. The youngest is especially intrigued with Spanish and as I sing, I laugh and imagine this fair-skinned, blue-eyed, chubby-cheeked cherub playing amid a big group of brown-skinned, dark haired, Spanish speaking kids his age...and the image always makes me smile. Love these boys, love how they talk, how they laugh...how the youngest says "Guess what, Julie?" to begin most every sentence and the oldest is so dang smart and always crumples his eyebrows together and tilts his head slightly right before he asks big questions. When I am with these kids (and many of the children in my life...clients, nieces and nephews, children of my friends)...I am usually thinking "I don't think I could love them any more, even if they were my own... Just adore them.

Which leads to me (in a long way) to my point...as I am spending time with these adorable boys and just eating them up...my brain and heart are kind of tangled up in some news I got earlier this week that I can't seem to figure out.

A sister from my mission passed away. At 32. She and I did not serve as companions, but I knew, loved and admired her. She was always positive, always kind, so easy to love. An excellent missionary and just an incredibly genuine person. And as I read comments so many have made on her facebook page and on her family blog in the last week...I keep thinking... "No, no, no, no no...32 year old mothers do not die." Especially when they have adorable children...ages 2, 4 and 6 who are captured in a "messy-hair, ginormous smile christmas morning picture" that hurts me to see-those faces...so innocent. Especially when the darling, gentle, soft and fun mom has a happy family and a great relationship with her husband...and a baby growing in her womb. No, no, no, no, no.

I have not met her husband or her children but I keep seeing the faces of clients I have had over the years who have lost parents or siblings...their grief...how hard/sacred/amazing that work is...with these gentle kids who ask questions such as "Well, I just don't get why Jesus got resurrected but my dad didn't. That isn't fair." And all I could say to the 6-year old that day was "You're right, it isn't fair at all right now."

It isn't fair that this sweet 32-year old mother's little 4-year old girl has already stated her concern that dad won't be able to do her hair like mom does it. And he won't. But what chokes me up is knowing that he will really try.

Life. Isn't. Fair.

It's not fair that some mothers who adore their children and the sacred role of motherhood die way too soon and others who find their children to be just a burden...live forever. It isn't fair that teenage girls get pregnant accidentally when grown women and their husbands ache over years of infertility. It isn't fair that there are kids in foster care who did nothing to deserve that kind of childhood. It isn't fair that my brain is full of details and stories from lives of my clients (from "tiny, tiny barely 3-years old and still in diapers" clients...to adults who have lived through some pretty amazing and difficult stuff)...details that I cannot share because I don't want them rattling around in anyone else's brain. It isn't fair that Ken, the man who has lived on the street corner near the agency I worked at for 3 years, is homeless. It isn't fair that I have wanted to be a mom since I was 3 and almost 30 years later...have not yet had that privilege. It isn't fair that my dear friend is on her 11th round of chemo and still has more to go. (Although, in some ways, it is very fair...that she is fighting this and that while still there is still a ways to go...things appear to really be heading in the right direction...so grateful for this).

But...it also isn't "fair" that I have a large group of amazing friends and family to whom I am very connected. It isn't "fair" that I get paid to do a job that I would (most days) do for free because of how much I love the work...when others have been unemployed for months or years. It isn't fair that I have the gospel of Jesus Christ that gives my life such purpose and direction when others all over the world are struggling to find answers to questions that don't bother me. Many friends of mine have expressed that it isn't fair that I could take a long, un-interrupted nap on the weekend. And to them I say "Yes, but it isn't fair that you get to wake up to bed-head snuggly toddlers whose lives and hearts revolve around you..."

So...I hope that "fair" comes to the family and children of my sweet friend who passed away this week...I hope that as they grieve the losses of their mom/wife/daughter/sister as well as their tiny baby sister/daughter/grand-daughter/niece, they are comforted beyond what is "fair." I hope math is easy for all three of those kids and that the 4-year old little girl has hair that is never tangly. I hope family and friends living near them do not stop offering support after the first 6 months and that many "moms" help to raise those kids.

And maybe, I hope that I can keep remembering that there really is no such thing as "fair." Life is full of experiences, blessings and trials. And as one of my close friends always says "life is a long time..." I know that fair isn't something we experience in this life. "Fair"...however, is what comes in the next....when everything is unraveled and we are able to understand the things that never made sense down here...and we are blessed with more than we deserve....all of us.

To get to the other side...

Actual photo of Speedy* (*not his actual name)

This morning I was about (or exactly) 2.85 miles into my run when I came across a surprising sight. There in the gutter was a turtle...and this turtle appeared to be attempting to cross the road. Problem was...it a was a busy road. Little guy would stick his head out slowly, and wait...and after a few cars would pass and there was a lull in the traffic, he'd start to stick his legs out...and just as his toes (turtles do have them-I'm pretty sure) would touch the ground, a car would come whipping by and he'd pull all appendages back inside. And then it would all start over.

I watched for the first few minutes intrigued. Then I watched for the next few minutes because I was grateful to be stopped running...and my heart rate was returning to normal and I wondered if I cared about the turtle or just wanted an excuse to be done running... and for the next 2 minutes I was angry at the turtle for wanting to go THAT way because he had 3 other directions to walk in that would not most likely cause his tragic death. It was a narrow road, and as cars came by, several almost clipped him...especially the time his head was all the way out.

By now, my run is pretty much over and my attention has now shifted to thoughts on the peril of this little guy and wondering what my rights and responsibilities are to this tiny reckless reptile. (I was only in cub scouts for a few months, so we didn't get to that chapter in the book that spells out first aid for turtles, but I bet it's in there). I wanted to talk him into going the other way, but then I thought "maybe turtles are like horses or dogs...or other animals that know where they live..." "and what if some 6-yr old kid is crying that his beloved "speedy" has been missing for 8 days...and his mom isn't sure how to tell him Speedy's probably...well, not coming home... and is considering taking him to the pet store after school today to get a new one but maybe not because turtles really are so stinky" (yes, that IS how my brain works...welcome to the Inner Workings).

ANYWAY...as I'm watching Speedy...he gets a crazy streak of Brave and sticks out head and arms/legs (are they all legs? even the front ones? again, thanks for nothing Webelos...) in one bold move and moves about a quarter of an inch closer towards the other side of the road...and is not mostly out of the gutter and in the street. At this precise moment, a car that was definitely speeding came by and if Turtle would have been one second slower, I'd have witnessed a terrible turtle decapitation before my very eyes. It was at the moment I decided to take action, and since Speedy was now (luckily) safely inside his shell, I picked him up and walked him over the other side of the road...set him near the bushes on the safe side of the sidewalk. He was nice and didn't scratch or bite me or whatever turtles might be capable of doing to well-meaning but invited movers...and I set him down and told him to be free...and to "go THAT WAY, dummy!!!"

He stayed in his shell and I waited for a while watching him... until I realized I really needed to get going...but hoped he would make better transportation choices in the future. Like...mostly, not running away from home. We had a little heart-to-heart...and I went home.

About 1.4 minutes after arriving home, I decided to go back to take his picture. When I got back, I couldn't find him for a minute and thought, "If I just got outrun by a &%$^ turtle, I'm gonna kill myself." Relax reader, no turtle or human will die today...he was there all along. I snapped a few pictures...and you will see that for a turtle who just got his life saved, he sure doesn't look very grateful... And I especially enjoyed that after two photos, he suddenly popped out of his shell and started sprinting (in turtle time) away from me...like he was gonna "make a run for it," as if I was gonna hurt him after all that. For the love, turtle. You need therapy.

See, not very friendly, right?!

Anyway. I don't know what happened to turtle. I'm pretending he's at home happily eating...lettuce and resting in safe cage with 6-yr old Billy's face glued to the glass. I'm prolly not gonna drive on that street for a while for fear that he maybe got crazy and walked back out the other way...and...well, you know.

But I did think about him all day...and (cue the music where the moral of the story comes in...you know the kind)...I was thinking that we are a lot like turtles. (Well, when it comes to running, some of us are even MORE like turtles than others). Sometimes we have a plan of where we think we need to go...and sometimes...it's a pretty terrible and dangerous idea...but we can't see that because we lack perspective. But...Heavenly Father...he doesn't. He gets it...and sees when we're about to make a choice that could figuratively flatten us. Sometimes he snatches us...and takes us to safety or has others down here do it for Him. And sometimes, even after He has saved us...we try to "make a run for it" to get away from Him, thinking He is the danger...or the enemy. We book it away and he probably smiles at our "turtle sprinting" and is thinking "I can see you no matter how fast or far you run, so when you're tired of running, I'll still be here..." So. Now. Bless Speedy for providing a story for Sunday's gospel doctrine lesson and a post topic for me for today. And I guess for providing a reminder that I was probably needing...

Beat It...

Sometimes when people haven't blogged for a long time, they start off with "I'm sorry I haven't written for so long." I've done it in the past, but honestly, I resolve to not say that anymore because this is MY blog after all, and I'm the boss of it. So if you're offended...you can go peruse the blogs of other more faithful bloggers...It's 2011 and I'm taking charge. Or something.

But...you're online reading blogs right now...so you're probably either NOT busy or avoiding things you really NEED to do. Which makes me feel okay about what I'm about to write.

First. I grew up in a musical home. Well, let me rephrase that. I begged to take piano lessons, and then begged harder to stop taking them. I took voice lessons for a while and liked them for the most part but there were....complications which I shall not here explain. My mom had a very cool player that rotated and played about 300 CDs...and it was on most all the time (as I remember). I loved music from age 3 when I got my first fisher-price record player that played 4 primary-colored plastic "records." And I had one heckuva dance routine for Neil Diamond's "Heartlight" song not to mention my smooth moves for "Footloose." I was ahead of my time...sigh.

My friend Anita tells me when I sing to her every time she says a word that triggers a song (which is about 39 times a day, on average): "Julesy, the music is in you." And I smile and agree.

But today when I was running and singing along, I heard myself sing "shorty hot pocket...da da da da...it doesn't matter who's wrong or right" and then start to question the veracity (and possibility) of those lyrics. So I came home and googled the lyrics to "Beat It," by our dear Michael. Turns out...he's actually saying "showin' how funky strong is your fight, it doesn't matter who's wrong or right." I was close. Sorry Michael. (But seriously...showin' how funky strong is your fight??!?!" Really? That's not much more impressive than Shorty Hot Pocket, just sayin'...).

This isn't the first time the lyrics I sing are devastatingly different than what the artist intended. Like for instance:

"I've been through the desert on a horse with no MANE," is really "horse with no name," but honestly, both versions are just weird. (Imagine me as a 7-yr old wondering what I'd hold onto if there were no mane...because of course...a saddle and reigns were out of the question...in keeping true to the spirit of freedom the song portrays...).

And...

"she ain't heaven...she's my mother..." turns out to be "he ain't heavy, he's my brother." (Took a LOT of ridicule when my mom and the lady for whom I was baby-sitting that day (my dear Jan...still love you and if you still read this, I want your email address) tag-teamed teased me on that one). You both should be ashamed, I was just a kid. ;)

So...have spent much of today laughing about "shorty hot pocket." I am awesome. It's a fun time in my brain. Anita is right, the music is in me. Unfortunately, sometimes the lyrics are not...