Redundant-No longer needed, superfluous, omitted without loss of meaning or function.
Laid-Off-Having lost your job, discharged, dismissed, fired, pink-slipped.
Today was my last day at the job I’ve spent the last 3 years at. Continue reading »
This morning on BBC Breakfast there was guy talking about writing a letter to his 16 year old self. It caught my interest mostly because I’ve found that writing is the most therapeutic thing in the world to me.
I have journals and notebooks full of streams of conscious, I’m writing whatever comes into my head, I’m working out a problem, or how I feel about something. If anyone ever reads any of that stuff they’ll discover two things. 1) They’ll think I’m far more crazy than they ever thought and 2) They’ll be able to see my thought process at work and wonder how I’d avoided the nice padded cell.
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I have had a twitter account for about 4 or 5 years now. I was there before it was cool, long before the great Stephen Fry, and that’s something I brag about often. I’m sure everyone has heard of the power of twitter, with such stories as the plane crash on the Hudson River, and the Chilean Miners Rescue both of which were covered on twitter in real time and breaking news stories.
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Tuesday night Mal and I went to see Ed Byrne at the Floral Pavilion in New Brighton. As always we had fantastic seats, front row, or what I like to call The Firing Line. Mal’s been on the receiving end more often than not when it comes to comedians.
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So the 29th of April was the wedding of Kate and Prince William. I was 10 when Prince Charles and Lady Diana were married. I remember setting my alarm for some silly time in the morning so I could watch the ceremony. It was amazing to watch. Not only was I impressed with the whole grandeur of it all but I remember thinking how cool it was that it was live. England seemed like it was as far away as the moon.
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Today is Mom’s birthday. For her tenth birthday my Grandmother gave her an Army surplus compass.
Mother Nature gave her a blizzard.
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The days before Christmas always seemed to be a hive of activity. A huge build up to the big day.
There were some traditional stuff that, of course, happened every year. Christmas records were pulled out of the closet and played while we got the tree out and decorated. I remember the tree had a hidden brown plastic pine cone on the trunk of the tree. I suppose it used to give off a pine scent but it smelled of nothing to me.
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On the 13th of October I had carpal tunnel surgery on my left hand. Back at home and feeling sorry for myself M and I got some news that would change my focus of just what was important.
M is involved in the online and off-line gaming groups on the net. News came through that his friend Owen had collapsed and had been rushed to hospital. Later news was that he had sadly passed away. He was 37. We were both shocked and sad to hear the news. M and I shared a cry at the news. The mood in the house changed, neither of us knew exactly what to do. So M being so very British said he’d go make tea.
I found myself thinking and crying for not only Owen but for his wife Patience as well. Patience is from Idaho, so really not that far away from each other when you think about how big the states are. I identified with her on a level that I didn’t know even excised. She had Owens family with her, but her family was in Idaho, I thought how painfully alone she must feel. I know if it were me in her shoes I would want nothing more than my Mom. I cried like I thought my heart would break for her. I described it to some one as aching tears. I wanted to scream and shout at the sky that it wasn’t fair, none of it was fair. Every time she would post something I’d find myself crying for her.
I just couldn’t work it out, I was amazed at my reaction to the news because Patience and I have only spoken a few times on Twitter, but I have enjoyed reading her tweets. But for me there was that connection, we were displaced, misplaced Americans. We’d met our husbands over the net. And we were from the same corner of the world. It was a friendship that was slowly growing.
Then something amazing happened. A group of strangers came together, people who knew Owen from the gaming community, people who knew Patience through sewing and knitting groups and the rest of us who didn’t really fit into either corner. Someone set up a page where we could all donate money to help Patience get her Mom and her Brother here as well as help her with any financial stuff that would come up. So was born the Patience Love Fund. A collective of strangers came together to make it happen.
Today is Owens funeral. My heart goes out to his family and to Patience.
When we were planning our last trip back to visit my family, I suggested that we go in September because the Western Washington Fair would be going on (otherwise known as the Puyallup Fair or just The Fair). It was a big deal to me that M saw the fair. After all he had the shirt and he’d not even been there.
I’ve told him stories about The Fair, how it smelled and how it was a riot of colors and noise. I can remember how hot it always was, but how it would always rain. It would only rain just enough to make you soaked but not enough to make you want to go home. And it never lasted for very long anyways.
It’s been this shiny magical place for me for as long as I can remember. You could see vendors selling this years must have fair junk, wizzy whistles, marionette birds, or in a more tolerant (naive) time, you could buy a small gecko with a bit of string tied around it’s neck and the other bit tied to a safety pin. This I remember clearly because I some how talked Mom into getting one for me. I looked after it as best as I could. But of course it was bound to happen, it died. Hindsight is always 20/20 and being an adult I think of the suffering of that little creature.
I can also remember that as a kid in grade school the build up to Tacoma Day at the fair. Freshly back at school we had our first half day of the year with in weeks of starting school. The fair would provide kids in Tacoma with one free admission ticket. We always went. It was jammed packed with people. Mom and I would go, we’d eat, I’d go on some rides. We’d wander around looking at all the stuff, the cool stuff and the not so cool stuff which was always some how needed and magical cause it was bought at the fair. I still want a Doo Dah bird but this year I saw them and actually talked myself out of getting one.
The fair has always been an eclectic place, you can walk along and find games of chance with in a few feet of this years newest model of hot tub and the hot tubs would be in sight of the horses, cows pigs, sheep. You’d be elbow to elbow with people who were buying this years must have knife, shoe cleaning product, and those who were looking at the fruit and veg displays from the different granges that are in the state. Walk a bit farther and you’ll run into amazing hand crafted stuff sitting happily next to massive miniature train sets next to collections of Smurfs. One night you can watch the rodeo, see a bit of sheep wrangling in the afternoon and then see Tesla open up for Queensryche the next.
So there we were, on our way to the fair this year, I’m as excited as I always have been. Maybe a bit more excited because finally I get to show M this huge, amazing and magical place with all the sights, sounds and smells.
To start with I put the odd disjointed feeling I had down to coming into the fair from an entrance I’ve never come through. The hot tubs were there, the giant cookie stall was there, BBQ Petes was still there. But it just didn’t feel right. There was just something I couldn’t put my finger on. We did all the normal stuff you have to do while at the fair. I wanted M to see everything. He went on a few rides including the wooden rollercoaster which has been operating since 1935. And it did rain, we got soaked, then the sun came out. We didn’t have any Earthquake Burgers
which was a shame but I’m sure we can do something about that next time we’re home.
Still we had a good time, enjoyed ourselves. But still I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. I was missing something. Then it came to me, after rereading my post about going home and how some things had changed and that it was fine it still felt like home. I realized all these years in between visits to the fair (13 years) I had expected it to be the same. It would be frozen in time and I could just pick up where I left off.
The world has moved on, it’s not my fair any longer, it’s a fair that has moved on as everything in life does. The fair now holds magic for others. My fair is faded and old, it’s weird to think that the fair I’ve talked about since moving here the one I see when I close my eyes, the one that is still bright shiny and full of magic isn’t the same one any more. It makes me sad that the older I get the less magical places seem to be. But maybe it’s not that the magic for places like the fair has changed, maybe I’ve changed.
This year I turned 40. I had one moment of “oh fuck I’m 40!” I started to think of all the stuff I hadn’t accomplished and worried about all the stuff I’d put off and how old I suddenly felt. It passed as quickly as it appeared. But it did make me take stock of things and it also made me realize that I hadn’t seen my parents in a very long time.
So I told M that I’d like nothing more than to go home for a visit. It was my only birthday request.
Here I sit at my Moms house, feeling comfortable in my own skin and feeling that I have been able to come home and nothing much has changed. The landscape has changed, time passes, things move on. That’s okay, most of the things that have changed for the better. Some things I’m sad to see go but that’s the way with life nothing can stay the same forever. God wouldn’t it be boring if nothing changed?
I still have almost a week left of my holiday and it will be nice to be busy but also to just know that I can just sit here and watch the world go by from the couch.
It may not be the home of my youth, the home of my early adult life, but it’s still home.