How to Renew Your Faith in the Human Race

Last night Roy and I went to Borders, and I found a ton of books I wanted. I pulled out my handy moleskine to write it all down. This morning I could not find my moleskine anywhere. I frantically poured everything out of my purse and searched everywhere I could think of. No moleskine. I was a little upset about this. Even though I've barely begun to put the thing to good use, it had a few things in it that I didn't really want a total stranger to see. (I use my notebooks for pretty much everything: shopping lists, want lists, journal entries, food diaries, etc.)

So we made the trek back to Borders. I went to the information desk to see if anyone had turned it in, while Roy retraced our steps from last night. I was shocked to find that someone had indeed turned in my moleskine! I was ecstatic to hear of this good news, and in my mind, I was thanking this good-hearted stranger profusely.

With moleskine in hand, I headed up the art/photography aisle to look for Roy. I was stopped short by a middle-aged man accompanied by a young boy and a lady (his son and wife, respectively) waving and smiling at me like we were old friends. The guy didn't look familiar at all, so I turned around to make sure there was no one behind me. There wasn't.

Cautiously, I asked, "Are you waving at me?"

Very friendly man (VFM): "Yes, hi."

Me: "Oh! Hi! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude."

Very friendly man's wife: "He just likes to wave at people."

Me: "Oh, okay."

VFM: "Have a good day."

Me: "Okay, thanks. You, too."

It was very odd, but it left me with a good feeling. That encounter combined with finding my moleskine has renewed my faith in the human race.

For today, anyway.

Things That Make Me Go "Wow"

This is a collection of cool things I've come across lately.

1)



2) I found this on Kari's blog. Hilarious.



3) The Head Project!



(Image by the ever-so-lovely and talented Elle Moss.)

4) Things I've seen around town that have made me smile:





5) Angelina and I embraced our inner dancing queens when we saw Mamma Mia! today. What a great movie! I haven't been able to stop dancing yet. I'm even dancing as I write this. Just in case you've been living under a rock, here's the trailer:



6) Jenn showcased her radness when she sent me an edible arrangement as a thank you for taking her engagement pictures. Yummy, pretty, and incredibly thoughtful! Thanks so much, Jenn!





I have (what feels like) a bazillion posts in progress, so I'm going to try to catch up on those this weekend.

The Best Things in Life

Thank you all for your thoughtful, supportive, and loving comments on my last post. I really needed them.

I have this theory. When you write something down, it makes it real (or more real). I have been avoiding the topic of TTC in most of my interactions with people. I didn't want it to become the center of my universe or the thing that people started asking me about all the time. I thought I could keep it a secret until I actually got pregnant. (It wasn't a total secret. There are a few people who have known what we've been up to.)

As it turns out, I couldn't. Our secret is out. It's real. But I refuse to let it define me. So what if we haven't conceived yet? It doesn't mean that I won't be a good mother when that day finally comes. It doesn't mean that women who get pregnant easily are somehow more meant to be mothers or will be better at it than those of us who have had to wait awhile. It's just random. It's a crapshoot.

Anyway, the whole point of this post is not to rehash my feelings concerning TTC. I've said what I need to say for now. I'm glad that I have opened the doors of communication concerning this, because as we continue down this road, there will be times when I will need to vent and express my feelings, whatever they may be.

And so we've decided to tell our families (only parents and siblings). We are going to need them. I thought we could do this alone, but the fact that I've leaned so heavily on my close friends through this shows that we can't. We need people to get us through. And you guys are those people, too. Thank you so much for your support. It means more than you will ever know.

To those of you who have been there for me from the start of all this, I love you so very much and cannot thank you enough for putting up with the insanity. It has been a crazy ride, but it has been bearable because of you.

A Story About Wednesday

Today my friend Kristy and I went to Rubio's for lunch. On our way back our cars, Kristy noticed that an old man had fallen down in the parking lot. We hurried over to where he was; another concerned young woman met up with us on our way over.

I was completely shocked when I saw this little old man lying flat on his back on the concrete, holding onto his dog's leash for dear life. The dog was this really big black Labrador, and for some reason, the man was using his belt as a leash. What was really strange was that the old man's jeans had fallen down, and his button-up shirt was open. For an instant, I really didn't know what to think. I didn't know if he was some kind of pervert or homeless or what. I quickly decided that none of that mattered because of the look of utter anguish and helplessness on his face.

The other girl and I threw down our purses and handed the dog over to Kristy. We tried like hell to help the old man up, but for some reason, he wasn't trying to get up. He was just dead weight. He kept saying, "Let me pull my pants up," but he could never really get them up. And we couldn't lift him, even with three of us trying.

Thankfully, a young guy in an SUV stopped to help and was able to lift the old man up on his own. The old man was clearly shaky and embarrassed. He couldn't really stand up on his own. (I think he can under normal circumstances, but he was obviously shaken up.) He said something like, "The mailman left the gate open," leaving me to surmise that perhaps the dog was about to get out of the yard, and in a pinch, the man decided to use his belt as a leash so the dog wouldn't run away. I'm not sure how the parking lot of Rubio's figured into the equation, though.

We managed to get some information out of the old man. He gave us his daughter's phone number, and we tried to call her. No answer. We found out that his wife was dead and that it was just him and the dog. Also, the man kept saying that his truck was nearby, but he didn't think he could drive. Apparently, his house was very close by as well.

At this point, I had gone to my car for some rope in order to make the dog a proper leash. When I came back, another young guy had stopped to help, and I asked him to tie a good knot so that the dog couldn't get away. We were then able to return the old man's belt to him so that he could keep his pants up. We were also able to scrounge up some bottled water and an aluminum pie plate so that the dog could have a much-needed drink. The dog nearly dragged me into the bushes as he crawled in there to escape the heat.

We managed to flag down some firefighters who were apparently on their lunch break, and they came over and quickly took control of the situation. We determined that the young man who had helped the old man up would give him a ride home and that one of the firefighters would walk the dog to the old man's house. With nothing left to do, I dragged my sweaty ass back to work, the knees of my jeans dirty from kneeling down to hold onto the dog.

I thought about this poor old man and his dog for the rest of the day. I thought about how scared and vulnerable he must have felt. I have always loved old people: they contain so much history and yet some are so much like children in some ways. It's so difficult for me to watch the elderly suffer, knowing that they are fully conscious of that suffering.

I also thought about how a group of strangers were able to come together and help this man and his dog get home. We didn't introduce ourselves; we just did what we could to alleviate the situation, and then we went on our separate ways. I will probably never see any of them again, and yet today they all feel very important to me. And so do the little old man and his dog.

This experience is not something I will soon forget, if ever. At the moment, it feels profound, real, and raw. It just feels like something worth holding onto, no matter how sad I become when I see that poor old man's face in my mind.

I hope he and his dog are safe now.

The Kindness of Strangers

Lately I've been posting on some pretty heavy topics, and I just wanted to thank everyone for their kind comments. It's funny how I have never met most of you in real life, and here you are, being part of my support system. The month of November has always been a difficult time for me and usually lends itself to lots of reflection.

Thank you for listening and commenting. It's much appreciated in this very hormonal time.

(Before you ask, no, I'm not pregnant.)

Found Object

This morning, I went to fill up my ugly mug with some hot water to make some hot tea, and I came back to my desk and found this little guy. Excuse the blurry picture, but apparently I'm not that great of a cell phone camera photographer. He's cute, eh? Apparently one of my co-workers found him in a box and left him on my desk for me. He reminds me of some Christmas ornaments I had and treasured as a child.

I really love the found object phenomenon. I have often enjoyed speculating on the travels of the object, wondering who had it before I found it and how it ended up in my hands. I found quite a few things while waiting tables. One thing that I remember the best was a tiger-eye stone. I'm not sure where it is now.

Anyway, Jessica (the co-worker who gave him to me) and I named him Max. Max is a very nice Tuesday morning present, as I'm feeling a bit under the weather today. Once again, I really like how people can affect my life in a positive way without realizing it. It's not the grand gestures that matter, but the small ones.

Yes, there are good people in the world.

Have you ever had the experience of just looking at someone and knowing he/she is a good person?

I had that experience today. Myra and I went to the craptastic Baker's for lunch since I forgot my lunch. There was a nice middle-aged Hispanic man working in the dining room. He accidentally picked up my tray too soon. I wasn't done eating my fries. I asked for my tray back so I could finish and then realized that my tray was on the bottom of Myra's tray. I didn't want to eat the fries after knowing they'd touched the bottom of another tray. So he brought me out another order of fries. I didn't ask for them and didn't even want them (but I ate them anyway, of course).

I just thought it was a nice gesture on his part. Myra tried to tip him but he wouldn't accept the tip. He said our smiles were enough. And truthfully, he was probably being honest about that.

Catapalooza!

Our backyard is crawling with cats right now. Normally we already have quite a few adult strays hanging around, but once every few months, one of them gives birth to little stray kittens. As cute as the kittens are, it's sad to watch them at times. They tend to hang out behind our long row of trash cans, and there are unsafe objects there, like nails sticking straight up out of boards. Inevitably, at least one of the kittens has one of its eyes stuck shut because of the crappy conditions it has to live in. With the last batch of kittens, Roy and I cleaned out the eye of one of the kittens with a damp washcloth, and a massive amount of pus came pouring out. The kitten's eye was okay after that, though.

Then there are the cats who hang out on the porch of our house. One of them, who we call The Whiner, is tame enough to let us pet him but demanding enough to whine for food all the time. The other is a tiny, shy black cat who doesn't let us get near him but will accept the food we leave for them. It's so sad to see these too remain constantly hungry - and skinny. But they have a better life than most strays.

Seeing animals in need is why I will never buy a purebred dog or cat from a pet store. I will always root for the underdog (or undercat, as the case may be). We got our cat Ashe from PetsMart. She was brought in by the Humane Society - they had rescued her from death row at the pound. Our other cat Kerwin was stuck up in a tree one day, and we rescued him. He had obviously belonged to someone before but had been on his own for awhile. I am so happy that we were able to give these guys a home. I only wish we could do it for all the strays of the world.

This is Ashe (Woogas) the night we rescued her.

This is Kerwin a couple of days after we saved him from the tree.