No, I’m *NOT* "easy"

Recently a friend sent along one of those internet surveys. You know the kind – "When was the last time you made a snowman?" and "how long have you known your closest friend for?" – just random questions designed to have everyone get to know you better, allow you to show off occasional genius bits of humor, etc.

One of the questions was "Are you easy to get along with?" Now, I have quite a few friends – actually, I have a LOT of friends, and I'd say that if you were to ask them "hey – is she easy to get along with?", most of them would just knee-jerk respond with "yeah – sure." But it's the ones that would stop and think about it that likely know me best.

I responded with "No, but I'm worth getting to know" which reads light and breezy, but for me it's a telling response. I don't open myself up well, not deeply anyway. I'm warm and engaging and can be as "surface friendly" as necessary. However, I'd say there are maybe six "not family" humans that could honestly say they KNOW me, and there have been very few people in my life that I've had "easy" friendships with.

Tim is one. We were friends the moment we met. We have similar senses of humor, and we complement each other well on what we lack. (He's traveled the world and sings like an angel. I know food and wine and … uh … well, I'm sure that I add more than just that.) I STILL remember the only time I've really ever been angry at Tim – and how wrong I was – and how awful I still feel about it. We laugh at the same stuff, are moved at the same things and honestly, couldn't be more different if we tried. He's just one of those people that I'd go to the ends of the earth for. I have no doubt that we'll be friends for the rest of our lives.

Scott is another. We'd met briefly at a sales meeting a few years back (he was the friend of a "new guy" in my team). When my boss transferred divisions, all my working relationships changed and I knew NO ONE in my new division, except for Scott. I really left him no choice but to be my friend. One of the first times I'd spent with him was at O'Hare airport during a February morning waiting for a lost bag that had either my very warm jacket or my entire wardrobe. I turned to him and said "I may spend the week naked but in a very warm coat – or freezing but looking swell" and he looked down at my Vans and said "well, at least you have the perfect shoes for either look". There was no question in my mind we'd be friends.

My most significant friendship to date started over a misunderstanding (literally – it was about a poor choice of words), and, in my typical foot-in-throat fashion, I called the person out on it. We clicked pretty instantly and while we're still getting to know each other, I already can tell that I don't ever want to screw this up. And we don't always see eye-to-eye, which actually I appreciate. Being friends (or even being friendly) with someone who always agrees with you is boring and, for me anyway, feels incredibly false. And it's that falseness that makes me so slow to open up in the first place.

So no, I'm not easy … but I'm worth it.

Thanks

The big stuff:
My health and the health of those I love.
Safe and secure shelter.
The love and support of those that love and support me, even when I don't make it easy for 'em to do so.

The little stuff:
Music.
Outdoor cats that wanna go out, and come in, and go out.
Indoor cats that sit on the sofa all morning looking ANNOYED by the door opening and closing so much.
Really warm socks.
The smell of onions as they cook.
Starbucks being open this morning, and having enough gas in the car for the roundtrip to Starbucks.
Noticing the gas "idiot light" in my car prior to going to visit my folks later today.
My bitchen' new HUGE stock pot and the things I'll do with it.
Football.
Neighbors that smile and wave as they walk past the driveway.

Non-fat, chilled, straight up

Folks have been really nice in asking how my dad is doing, and I could just say "He's fine – seems to be recovering nicely", but that just feels inaccurate. It doesn't really cover it for me. My father and I have a special relationship. I'm a smaller, sharper, younger version of him. So how's my dad doing? Well, lemme tell ya' …

I visited my folks today to drop off a bunch of magazines that I know my mom will enjoy reading. (It's my habit to buy magazines while I travel, and I've been traveling quite a bit lately.) My dad will be going into the hospital tomorrow morning, where his doctor will do a procedure that should allow the upper chambers of his heart to come back into rhythm with the lower chambers of his heart. It involves introducing a shock wave into my dad's chest from the outside, so there's no surgery involved, but I'd be less than honest if said that I wasn't nervous about it.

Of all the things my dad is fearless about, electricity has NEVER been one of them. He's had more than his fair share of accidental jolts (I remember one when his watch band hit a node from the car battery – learned LOTS of new swear words that day) so he has MASSIVE respect for electricity.

He told me about the procedure and then joked "so, ya' know, if you wanna give my Christmas present now, I'd understand". Because I'm his daughter, I responded with "well, the good news will be that if it works out, you'll be outta of the woods for a while. If it doesn't go well – then heck, I'll get the Corvette before the end of the year!"

He laughed and then showed me a side effect of one of his blood-thinning medications – a blotch of dead skin that's formed on his left arm. His doctor was VERY concerned about this reaction to his meds, because that patch is not gonna grow back. "So, wadda they gonna do then? Take a skin graft from your ass?" I asked. "I mean 'cause that's the biggest target". "No, I told them to take it from your thighs" he responded. "Better mass and lots of fat. Oh and hey – I've been sober for a whole month now. Wadda think of that?" "Gee, that's great, Dad. Really – that's great. Ya' miss it?" "A little – but you know something? Your mom is not as much fun when I'm sober. You're still on the wagon, right?" "Yeah – still am", I responded.

I wanted to add "… and I didn't have to almost die to make that choice", but the thing about joking with my dad is knowing when NOT to. This will be my dad's first sober Thanksgiving since I was in high school. And I'll raise my glass of milk to that.

I’m not lost - I’m just reading the signs.

In the past week, without actually realizing it, I've found myself in a lot of situations where I'm in a "wrapping things up" mode. All around me are signs to get things into a state of resolution.

It started on Halloween, when I called Tim to wish him a happy sabbatical. He'll be gone for 6 weeks and, I'm guessing, when he returns, I'll be on my sabbatical for 6 weeks. We'll catch up before Christmas, I know, but we both know that things are changing and our co-worker status will likely be ending soon. It's hard to walk away after 5 ½ years.

Then I dropped an email to all the people who have traveled with me to Biloxi to ask if they had any specific sites or stories they wanted me to follow up on next week while I'm there … for, quite likely, my last trip (at least for awhile). I then sent a note to Jim, my mentor and friend, asking him the same question … basically reaching out to see who is gonna miss what – 'cause I'm gonna miss it all.

This morning, in my big city office, I was waiting for my coffee and ran into my ex-boss from my days working at a large, Fortune 10 company. (I see him about 5 or 6 times a year now, and we still exchange Christmas cards.) I deeply respect Tom, and he asked me how things were going. He listened to my update and then said that it was good to see me so happy. I kind of found this ironic, given that I've been in a low period lately.

I go to my desk and one of the volunteers from my first week (Eva) was in the office and we talked for a bit. Ella (a volunteer from week 5) wished me well, and two encounters rather shook me. The first was the local cut up (Brian) wishing me a good trip and then saying, as he walked away, "Wow Jules – ya' just make the rest of us look like crap sometimes, ya' know?" And I had to remind him (or felt I should anyway) that I was only doing my job. The second encounter was that I randomly managed to raise close to $150 to donate for a co-worker who lost his home in the San Diego Fires recently and a fellow co-worker (Jamee) gave me a big hug for doing it. I guess I'll never understand being thanked for stuff like that, and I promise I'm NOT humble. It's just … it seems like an obvious thing to do, I guess.

Anyway, then I drove to our headquarters, where I passed a volunteer from week 2 (JJ) literally walking on the street and arrived at HQ for my mid-year review (hey, only 3 months late but who is really counting, right?) and then had to get some paperwork submitted and ran into a volunteer from week 4 (Marcio).

I also caught up with Scott and Andy, to find out how their quarters had gone and see what was up in their lives. Scott's house is likely gonna be done at the end of November, by which time Andy will have probably moved into a new role (but in the same division).

I left around 3:20 and spent an hour and a half at a coffee shop catching up with another volunteer from week 2, Bruce. I was right when I felt that he and I had really connected during our work week – we had. We picked up right where we had left off and just kept going.

When I return from Biloxi, I'll have to figure out my sabbatical. When I return from my sabbatical, I'll have to figure out what I'm gonna do for employment, as my current job will end on January 31st, 2008. I don't know what that will look like. I'm just not this seemingly amazing person that all these people keep giving me credit for being. I'm just trying to find my way. I have all these wonderful guideposts, and I'm making my way through by reading the signs.