The Beauty of Forgetting

The approximate 2 week lull in my blogging means only one thing...school groups are here. Oh, and I've been sick, which means, when I get home from work, I just lie in bed and try to recover. The only problem with trying to get better has been that winter hasn't entirely passed here in Logan. And I get to be outside during the wind, the rain, the snow, the sun--which makes getting better hard. It must be spring when I can get sunburned one day, and it can be snowing the next.

I have decided that the beauty of forgetting is a double edged sword. For example, I forget the horrible details about school groups that make me think, sure, I love my job. Then, when those horrible details come back in full force, I remember, and somehow the remembering--after I've already forgotten--makes it that much worse. So, I propose that any painful experiences will soon be forgotten, and then never experienced again. Somehow I doubt that will happen. But it is nice to live in bliss for awhile anyway.

The Biggest Surprise Of All

One month ago, I was surprised at how much I actually enjoyed Kansas. After being sure Kansas wouldn't be anything to talk about because there weren't any mountains, I find myself thinking that it was actually fun. And I turned into a Kansas fan because of it. It was that surprise of life: no matter how much you think you have something categorized or figured out, the possibility exists that it will actually turn out completely different. I forget this all of the time. And I literally mean, all of the time. But today, the biggest surprise of all came. It was yet one more weekend of chaos and exhaustion, all packaged in what we call Baby Animal Days. It has taken its toll on me through the years. For example, I am fairly certain that if I am ever lucky enough to have kids, I will never take them to an Easter Egg Hunt. I get a little bit panicked and nauseous thinking about it. However, as the day unfolded, I realized that I was sad. I was sad and realized that I was actually going to miss these festivals that we do. I realized it in a very real (as opposed to purely logical) way. I can't even quantify all the ways in which I will miss it...but I will. It's the people, the setting, the personalities, the animals, the mountains, the weather all in one package that I will miss. And that was the biggest surprise of all. I don't want to forget this lesson, because most of the time I like to think that I have things figured out. But in reality, you never know what surprising events or emotions life will bring.

The Customer Is Not Always Right

That is a true statement. I know, I've worked in retail. However, in my particular situation, I am right and America First Credit Union refuses to acknowledge it. I will spare you of the details...they seem to think I'm crazy anyway when I explain. In a nutshell, however, they deposited my money in someone else's account. They put it right, but not after I unknowingly spent money as if I had the money I thought I had deposited. Needless to say, my line of credit was maxed. So I paid it off (before I realized their mistake) from my savings. That money is now gone forever. But had they not made the mistake of giving someone else my money, I would never have lost that money to my line of credit. And now it's gone. (okay, so I didn't spare you the details)

All I want them to say is this: "I see why you are so upset. You are right." They could even say there is nothing they can do and I would even be okay. (I really do just want my money back that I paid to my line of credit...I know, I may be going out on a limb) But the two tellers (at two different branches, mind you) treated me as if I am an idiot. I don't like that. So, I'm waiting for my last checks to clear and then I'm changing banks. It just feels like I should. They are the ones that are crazy and I hate the feeling when people are treating me like I'm stupid.

So, that's my story for the day. I'm pretty sure I shouldn't be mad about this, but I am really upset.

Oh, and then I came home and got the letter from University of Washington informing me I didn't get into their program (another wait list). So, naturally, I now want to go there more than anything else and am really upset. Pretty much describes how I handle things that either come my way or don't. When will I learn to be happy with what I have or where I am?

The Promised Pictures

Kansas


The farmland and me, always on the lookout for historical sites. Who would have ever guessed the Civil War pretty much started in Kansas, just outside of Lawrence?

Downtown Lawrence. More fun than it might appear. I really liked the place. And good job on the basketball team.

You too can find this sink at a restroom at a gas station in Rawlins, WY.

Cooperstown


The houses. Those on the left are the standard. The one on the right, well, I heard he painted his house that way to make the mayor mad. It probably worked. All he needs to do is boycott Christmas and he may get thrown out.

Notice the wreath and Christmas lights. The lights are on, by the way. It is just a small picture. And this was not an isolated sight. Christmas wreaths everywhere. I was there March 6-9, go figure.

James Fenimore Cooper is buried here. The town is named after one of his relatives.


It was March, probably one of the least attractive months for places that are transitioning to spring. No exception here. But it had it charm.

And the Baseball Hall of Fame. Roberto Clemente, if you can't read the dark, tiny engraving on the plaque.

Lost in Albany (left). The blue house is where I stayed (right).

What Should I Look Like?

The inevitable question is always going to arise: How old are you? For a little while I felt strange telling people my age because I was always older than the person asking the question, it seemed. But soon I became comfortable in my own age and now answer with confidence. I have earned each year of my life. I have had amazing opportunities and experiences. I have even had not so great experiences that have made me who I am. So, when people ask, I answer, "I'm 29." At this point, people seem to think they need to comment on my age, and the usual response is some form of, "You don't look like you are 29." [Although I did have one guy tell me, "No, you're not." I replied that yes, I was and he told me I wasn't. It seemed fruitless to argue with him so I let him win. He was sure I wasn't 29, but I have the birth certificate to back me up. Sometimes it is fun to let people be adamant about something when you know for certain that they are wrong.] So, here's my question: What should a 29 year old look like? Seriously. I have always just thought, oh good, I don't look old. But I'm beginning to wonder about this. 30 isn't old. 30 year olds don't look old. And heaven knows I don't want to look like I'm 22. Don't get me wrong, 22 was great. I loved it. But I want to be where I am now.

So, I posed this question to a friend, and her response was that people might say that because I still have energy. Still? What does that even mean? I have yet to meet a 30 year old that has the energy level of my grandparents. At 30, people are still fun and they still have energy--thus, I don't really think her theory is valid. For awhile, I thought maybe it was a Utah/Mormon thing and was grounded in some weird theory revolving around marriage. But no, I even got the "You don't look 29" response in New York where there wasn't a Mormon within miles. Ultimately my theory is this: people will guess your age based on their own and assume you are near their age.

The Real Thing

This is it...the real acceptance! (No dreams for this one) I was accepted to the Cooperstown Graduate Program and have accepted admissions there!! Yikes!! So I will be headed to upstate New York this fall. I am excited, but nervous, and pretty sad to be leaving everything I love here. But this is a great opportunity to further my museum education, so I feel so blessed and grateful for this chance. It's a little strange this has all worked out and it's funny that I am so surprised. I just now realize all the WORK I'm going to be doing. I never thought past getting accepted, but now that I have been accepted, I have to do the work! It should be really great, though. And anyone is welcome to visit!!

http://www.oneonta.edu/academics/cgp/

I Was Accepted to Clemson

Mind you, it was only in a dream, but it was fun, nonetheless. Clemson's method of letting you know you were accepted to the program--giving you a pin in class. When I would be in class in real life is still a mystery to me. However, in my dream, the box with the pin was found on the ground and the people from Clemson were really offended that their pin and acceptance would be treated with such disrespect. I guess I didn't want the pin. Or to go to Clemson*. (You really can't create the absurdity that happens in dreams.)




*Clemson is in South Carolina. It is not a school I have ever applied to.