little black journal

Shane is working late tonight, which initially bummed me out, but rather than feel sorry for myself (see previous post), I decided to make the most of my time alone and enjoy a “me-night”.  I came home, opened a bottle of red wine, put on my most comfortable pair of sweat pants, and curled up on the couch with a few of my favorite things: my current knitting project, my little black journal, and a good book.  With Over the Rhine playing on the stereo, the rain falling outside, and a comfy blanket wrapped around my shoulders, the stage was set for a perfectly relaxing evening.  And I soaked it all in.  Felt good.

I’ve been riding an emotional roller-coaster the last couple of weeks, and it’s taken some fairly low dips – I’ve found myself feeling overwhelmed, misunderstood, and very unsteady.  Concerns, pressures, and disappointments compound upon one another and form this totally out-of-control snowball that is hurtling at me at 600 miles an hour.  But so much of this is because of my own doing.  I am frustratingly emotional and I often let myself become totally absorbed in my feelings when I swing really far one way or the other.  Saturday at the pumpkin patch I was silly and grinning and telling Shane that we were having “one of the best days of 2008”, and earlier tonight I was sitting on the couch crying my eyes out for reasons that are too trivial to deserve elaboration.  It’s hard, being so emotionally volatile and not really knowing what to do about it.  Where is that healthy middle ground, and why can’t I find it?  I pray for steadiness and the ability to process things reasonably, but it’s just so easy to fly off the handle.  Immediate relief.  But then… the realization that my little outburst was totally unproductive and probably a little childish, and so I add “illogical behavior” to my list of self-woes.  I feel defeated.

Thankfully tomorrow is a new day.

Last night Shane and I went to the first class of a 3-part series our church is offering entitled “Faith and Gender.”  A broad topic, yes, but something that certainly pertains to me, since I am a woman of faith who is trying to understand what it means to actually live as a woman of faith.  The discussions last night made me realize that it’s been awhile since I’ve engaged in and wrestled with any deep spiritual, biblical, relational issues.  It feels good to struggle with opposing beliefs and ideas.  But it’s overwhelming, too, and so tempting to simply say “pass” when God calls on me to stretch and solidify my beliefs.  It is alarmingly easy to let one’s faith become stagnant.  And “stagnant” is not a word I want used to describe my thoughts, relationships, or beliefs.  So I’m taking the opportunity to step up to the plate and wrestle with this issue.

I am frustratingly stuck on the question, “How do a woman’s and a man’s roles differ in a Godly marriage?”  I know that Shane is in charge of mowing the lawn and I am in charge of grocery shopping, but our definition of roles can’t just be reduced to a simple task list.  Some would even argue that there should be no difference between male and female roles in a healthy marriage, but I tend to disagree.  I do sincerely believe that a husband is called to lead.  “Leading” is not an exertion of power, but it is a willingness to be held accountable.  It is not about the man “getting his way” – leading often means making sacrifices, compromising, putting his wife’s or children’s needs above his own.  And a woman who is “led” is by no means weak, timid, or constrained.  She should still have a strong voice, a sense of independence, and utmost confidence in herself.  These are things I hold to be true – a man is called to lead sacrificially, and a woman is meant to follow walk alongside him, while still retaining a sense of value and self-worth.  But I’m having such a hard time understanding what this really looks like, particularly in my own marriage.  Am I allowing myself to be led by Shane?  Is he even offering to lead?  In times when Shane is weak, or lost, or “stagnant”, is it my job to step up and lead?  What does “leading” even mean?  Is it about decision-making?  Providing?  Accountability?  So many questions…  I’m not expecting absolute resolution – it is the growth that comes from the process of seeking that is so formative, but still, it would be nice to be able to translate my vague doctrines into quantifiable actions.  And so, I will ponder/struggle/wrestle/explore.  I’ll let you know how that goes.

Shane and I left town for the weekend and came back to find that the leaves on our tree out back are rapidly changing from green to orange.  Though the fall colors are beautiful, I can’t help but panic a little bit: is summer really over?  Are the days of short-sleeved shirts and sunglasses already behind us?  And what about all those summer trips we were supposed to take and those summer projects I was supposed to complete?  I become discouraged when I think of all that I didn’t do…  But then I look back on this blog and see all that I did do (camping, canoeing, test-taking, seeing Vancouver for the first time, planting, redecorating, visiting my best friend, sketching, bonding with my niece), and I feel encouraged and motivated to keep planning, keep doing, keep seeing.  No, I didn’t finish that painting I wanted to get done, and no, we didn’t make it over to Eastern Washington for our wine-tasting weekend, but I have a whole new season ahead of me to continue working on that to-do list.  There’s no sense in fighting the onset of autumn, so I suppose I may as well embrace it.  Soon I will be making butternut squash soup, pulling those comfy sweaters out of the closet, putting the garden hose away as nature takes over our watering for us.  Sometimes it’s all about looking for the silver lining (you might be hearing a different tune from me on our 97th straight day of drizzle, but for now, I am remaining positive and optimistic).

Haven’t posted lately, for I’m in the depths of studying for architectural licensing test #5, coming up on Saturday.   Have I mentioned just how intensely I’ve come to dislike studying for these things?  Oh yeah, I have…  Well, let me reiterate:  there are so many other things I’d rather be doing right now!  Reading good books (NOT the Architect’s Handbook for Professional Practice), sketching cool stuff (NOT below-grade waterproofing details), curling up on the couch with my husband (NOT with my building materials flash cards).  I’m praying for good weather on Sunday, for I’m declaring it an offical celebratory play day!  (I desperately need something to look forward to, as I wade through the last of my stack of study materials.)  How would you spend a commitment-free, wide-open day in Seattle?

Shane and I took a quick trip to California last week to catch up with some old friends.  It’s good to be back home in Seattle (yes, I am officially referring to Seattle as “home”), but dang, after spending just a couple of days with my best friend, I’ve realized how much I miss her.  Amanda and I have been friends since high school, when we sat next to each other in Spanish class and were forced to sing Enrique Iglesias songs together (our teacher somehow thought that singing bad pop Spanish songs was vital to a complete understanding the language).  Our friendship apparently was sealed in that classroom, as we have remained close ever since.  We have almost nothing in common (Amanda loves Kelly Clarkson and goes to see the “American Idol on Tour” concert every year; I prefer Radiohead or maybe a little Death Cab for Cutie when I’m feeling poppy), but we never fail to have an absolutely fabulous time together.  Case in point: we spent over two hours in a shoe store on Thursday, strutting down the aisles, giggling, and giving each other the god-honest truth about the shoes we liked (thank you, Amanda, for saving me from those yellow loafers).  We stayed up late together every night, chatting, catching up, reminiscing about our high-school antics, just enjoying the comfort of being in an old friend’s presence.  We ate Mexican food together (oooooohhhhhh, I adore you, burrito supreme with cheese and green sauce and sour cream), and we loafed around her house afterward while our gut-bombs digested.  We stood in line at the post office together and somehow had a good time doing it.  We talked about work and marriage and family and shoes (yes, we do love our shoes).  It is such a blessing to have a friend that just “gets me” the way she does.  I’ve been discouraged that I haven’t found such a friend in Seattle yet, but I should remind myself that it took years for Amanda and I to come to know each other as well as we do.  Which means it might be years before I can enjoy standing in the post office line with someone up here.  Patience, I guess.

I had the privilege of being a bridesmaid at Matt and Cyra’s wedding on Friday.  It was a beautiful day – sunshine, flowers, good food, and an ecstatically happy couple.  As I watched them exchange vows that evening, and gaze lovingly into each other’s eyes during their first dance, and talk with anticipation about their honeymoon, I wondered, “Have Shane and I lost that newlywed spark?”  In a sense, yes, much of the “newness” of marriage has worn off.  But in its place, we have built a partnership that is full of comfort and understanding.  This isn’t to say that we’ve become a tired, boring, old couple (Shane has yet to refer to me as “the old ball and chain”, thank goodness), but we have definitely settled into our life together.  Each day, we know one another a little better than we did the day before.  We have come to understand when to pursue being together and when to give each other some alone time.  We have discovered each other’s pet peeves (I forget to turn the lights off when I leave a room, Shane puts a nearly-empty milk carton back in the fridge) and are trying to curb these small annoyances.  We have set goals together (money to save, trips to take, interests to develop) and we encourage each other toward realizing these dreams.  These are all good things.  But do we forget sometimes to be spontaneous and fun-loving and passionate?  Yes.  This is something to work on.  I know that it’s possible to combine the solidity of our life together with the excitement and joy that comes with being very much in love – it just might take a little effort.  But it’s a worthy endeavor with great rewards…

I got my third “pass” letter in the mail this week for my architectural licensing exams.  3 down!  But 6 more to go…  I never anticipated this being such a laborious process.  When I started studying for my first test back in February, I thought I might enjoy falling back into study-mode, reliving a small piece of student life.  I thought it would be fun to spend my Saturdays at a cafe with my books and flashcards.  I was wrong.  I am putting off doing that very thing as I sit here and type – I should be off somewhere else, distraction-free, studying for my upcoming test on Monday.  Instead, I have already spent much of today surfing the internet, cleaning the house, doing a little yard work.  I guiltily took a 30-minute nap after lunch.  Shame on me for not being the studious architect-in-training that I know I should be…  Some of the study material has been interesting, but I’m down to needing to memorize the nitty-gritty details, like the proper slope of a storm drain line, or the difference between mediation and arbitration in terms of an building-related lawsuit.  Why can’t the architectural licensing process require things like building cool models or using travel to experience the way that culture informs architecture?  One can only wish…

I am looking forward to having this process behind me so that I can enjoy spending more time on my neglected hobbies – I’m afraid the “now painting”, “now reading”, and “now stitching” pages I’ve posted on this blog don’t rotate nearly as frequently as I’d like with completed projects and new endeavors.  All the more motivation to get these tests DONE.

I was irritable today (unfortunately, Shane can confirm this).  I don’t know if it’s work, or my pesky summer-time allergies, or the fact that I couldn’t fall back asleep this morning when Shane got up at 4 a.m. to go stand in line for an iPhone, but I found myself getting incredibly bent out of shape by the most insignificant things.  Cases in point:

I was out at the jobsite all day today and popped over to a nearby supermarket/deli for lunch.  I was sitting at a table, enjoying my broccoli-cheese soup and sourdough roll, when I watched a man walk up to the tray of bite-size doughnut samples near the counter and commit a crime of total germ-spreadery.  The tray had a pair of plastic tongs sitting next to it and a note that said “PLEASE use tongs!”  As a slight germo-phobe, I can appreciate the sanitary reasons for not wanting people to reach their hands into a pile of food samples.  The man picked up the tongs, which was a good start, but then he placed the doughnut sample directly into his mouth from the tongs.  I think there may have even been lip-to-tong contact!  While this is definitely a little gross, I shouldn’t have let myself react with such repulsion.  My eyes followed the man with an icy glare as he moved about the store.  In retrospect, his show of such poor manners is almost funny.  Laughing might have been a more suitable reaction.

Irritable moment number 2 (or was is number 8?  I lost count today…) occurred when I got on the bus to go back to the office from the site.  It was a full bus, and my feet were tired from another day of punchlists.  I walked toward the back of bus, hoping to find an empty seat.  There was indeed an empty seat, but a woman had her purse sitting there.  She made absolutely no attempt to move her purse to her lap, even when I grabbed onto the pole near her seat and made a clear effort to look for a place to sit.  I hovered over her for the next couple of stops, grumbling something to the effect “that is soooo rude” under my breath.  She just watched me stand.  Really, I could have and should have politely asked her to move her bag, but in my grumpy state, I found it much more satisfying to pout and complain.  So silly of me.

The good news is that it is now Friday evening and I am contentedly enjoying a cup of tea in our quiet house while Shane is out having a beer with a friend.  I’ll have to apologize to him when he gets home – my first words when I walked in the door this evening were “I thought you were going to clean the house this afternoon!”  Not exactly the warm hug and “How was your day, Honey?” he was hoping for… Thank goodness he is a forgiving and understanding man.

With work being as busy as it is, and my next licensing test coming up in a couple of days, and my list of “free time” projects growing all the time, my mind feels like it’s stretched very thin. I feel like I have lost my ability to focus. When I’m at work, I’m thinking about all the studying I have to do. When I’m studying, I’m thinking about the unfinished painting or sewing project that I have sitting upstairs. I try to set aside time in the evening to work on these projects, but I never get around to it, because I am worn out and exhausted by 8 pm. And then as I’m trying to drift off to sleep, I find myself composing my task list for the following work day. I am one big, neurotic stress-ball. I find it impossible to relax. It’s frustrating. And tiring.

Thankfully, there is a light at the end of the tunnel, as my test will be over on Tuesday and my big project at work should be wrapped up by the end of the month. But then again, come next month, there will be another test to take and another project to work on. And will I allow myself to become consumed by these things once again? I desperately hope not. I just haven’t figured out yet how to avoid it. I have not been dealing well with deadlines and pressure and stress. Ideally, my feelings of stress would drive me to productivity, and my productivity would allow me to feel that I’ve earned the right to take a break and relax, but it seems instead that my stress is just frazzling me to the point that I’m not getting much of anything done. And so my frustration compounds and compounds and compounds. Goodness, I’m a Debbie-downer tonight… I think I’ve got a case of the “Sunday night don’t want to go to work tomorrow didn’t get much done at home this weekend” blues. Sigh.