Today, I started out the day with a few specific goals, mostly of watching all these videos I had lined up from this really great learning resource. That partly happened.
What happened unexpectedly was a tough conversation that ended in a massive stalemate. I won’t stop loving the person, of course, but the disregard for health and well-being is very difficult for me to accept. I want that person to be here for a long time and to be fully healthy and well for all of that time, for as long as possible. I also want to spend time together with this person, and a lot. Yet the subject of our disagreement necessarily takes away the chance of most of those desires. And it just really hurts, and I don’t know what to do about it.
God, please, give me clear guidance here. Please, help. In your name, I pray. Amen.
I was planning to shop for work clothes and that leather bag today at Walmart and at resale shops. However, my menstruation that began this morning kind of started hitting me hard by about midday – that, ‘It feels like diarrhea, but in the wrong place,’ feeling in the lower front part of my belly (aka my whole uterus area). So, I just got the Velcro I needed at Walmart, glanced quickly at the clothes and declined them, then went to three resale shops. I was quick in each, not even five minutes in any one of them. I got in, looked through all their bags, and got out. Well, I was probably in the first one a little over five minutes, because I had to wait in line to buy this great small leather purse that I likely will be using for a project in the future. It was two dollars efficiently spent, I tell you.
Then, there was nothing at the second store I liked much, so I was there only about two minutes, going through all their purses and handbags. It was easy not being in a mood to try on clothes. I knew I could do that another time with comparable ease. Today was focused on the Velcro and the bag search.
At the third resale shop, though, right as I entered, I glimpsed a bag behind a counter. A man asked if I needed help, and, though I hadn’t fully determined that I wanted to see the bag up close, I went ahead and asked to see it. After some quick research online, I agreed to buy the bag. I walked the store quickly, just to make sure I wasn’t missing some gem somewhere, and then purchased the leather bag.
I called my man to tell him I was headed home and that I’d found a bag. And, not only is it a good quality, real leather piece that I like, nor was it merely $35 plus tax, but it was also ‘a stinking name brand purse.’.
His immediate response was, “Is it real? Are you sure it’s not a fake?”
“No, I’m not sure! But now I want to know!”
It hadn’t even occurred to me that it might be a fake, because, well, I DIDN’T CARE. I cared about the quality and the leather, and those two things had checked the boxes. The name on it was more funny to me than anything else. But, now that he had mentioned the idea, I suddenly absolutely wanted to know if it was real or a fake. Mind you, I was and am still fully aware of the fact that it does not matter if the bag is a fake or not – we both agree it was a good purchase, whatever the case. I just really want to know, now that he’s brought up the idea.
And that almost feels stupider than caring about it for the sake of purchasing a crazy expensive purse just for the name. But, anyway, I still want to know now.
I looked up one article immediately and started comparing. Coincidentally, it passed the main tests – quality stitching, matching threads, quality and heavy-duty metal parts, quality and matching bordering leather. However, there is one test it fails: the tag. It doesn’t have a fabric tag inside it anymore. However, from what a quick search showed me, the bag is from the ‘90s. From the inside of the bag, this thing was not treated kindly by its last owner… at all. I crossed bags online with that little fabric tag partly or almost fully shredded. It would not surprise me if such a thing happened to such a tag in this bag. However, I will check tomorrow if there seems to be a seen in the right spot for that missing tag. In addition to that, the long strap on it has different thread. So, there’s a definite chance that the strap did not originally come with the bag. And the strap may be fake or may be from just another D&B bag altogether, and it merely got switched or stolen one day (mean that as you like it).
So, I’ll do some more online research tomorrow, especially with how to clean this poor thing. It really is great quality, especially seeing how terribly it must have been treated and how well it held up. With a good clean and conditioning, though, I think this bag will look spectacular again. And, as I said, whether it’s a real or a fake D&B purse, it was still worth the $35.
…. But I still want to know. 😛
Thank you, God, for this life and this success and fun today. Thank you for the amazing family dinner and music tonight. Thank you for my family. Thank you for my man, who carries part of my heart with him always now – thank you for such a blessing. Help us all to pursue and fulfill your will, being our best selves, better and better each day. Thank you. I love you. We love you. Amen.
I’m just searching for some quality work clothing and a quality (used, because I can’t afford new) leather handbag. But that, apparently, is too much to request from our clothing industry right now.
And that is just so, so sad…
There is so much junk out there. There is so much junk that will get thrown away without ever being sold. And there is so much junk that will fall apart quickly after people start to use it. And it isn’t even a matter of just not buying the junk – there is too much junk and too little out there that is of quality. I cannot even find the quality stuff(!!!!). (Aaaahhhhrrrrggghhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
The only place I’ve found not-junk (but also still loads of junk) has been as resale shops. I actually found a great leather handbag in one shop today – no, it isn’t even a name brand bag, because even most of those are rather crappy quality and aren’t actual leather anymore – but it is a bit big for my purposes. So, my search continues for the quality leather handbag.
Finding clothes has been distressingly difficult. They cost more than ever right now, yet their quality is significantly worse than they were even a few years ago. One distinct thing I noticed during the previous presidency was that product quality in general, clothing included, increased. Things were suddenly made better or they didn’t sell. And lots was made in the USA, and not crappily. It was suddenly kind of easy to find whatever I wanted as a product made in the USA and made well, and at a very reasonable price. Not cheap, but reasonable and worth the quality. Now, I am very much not into politics, but I have noticed that clear difference. During this presidency, there has been a weird supply chain issue, along with an intense drop of quality in products and a huge jump of products from China, and yes, I mean the crappy kind, exploding out of almost every store. On top of that, the prices of the junk are higher than the quality and quality made-in-the-USA products’ prices a few years ago.
Just the waste of it all is sad enough. But the lack of fair wages and intense markup pricing brings it all to a whole ‘nother level of sad…
Dear God, please, help us to restore quality to this planet, and on all levels. Help us begin with providing quality services, quality care, and quality products to one another. Help us all to learn to care about our own work and about the work of others. Help us to appreciate truly the value of quality work, services, products, and love. In your name, I pray. Amen.
I want to start waking up at my early hours again, and naturally so. And, by ‘waking up,’ I actually mean, ‘getting up and staying up.’ I still mostly wake up close to my former time. I get up and use the bathroom and go right back to bed most of the time. And I am so tired most days that I do fall back asleep somewhat quickly. However, I don’t want to do that anymore. I want to get up early and go to bed early. I like being nearly halfway through my day by the time most people are starting work for the day. I don’t get up to near as much good by staying up late, anyway. When I get up early, just as Marie Kondo said from her experience with customers, I get a whole lot more done, and faster than when I wake up at standard or late times.
So, here’s to looking into what has been in my way for the past year and (almost) a half, and seeing what I can alter for myself in order to get myself back to bed when I actually want to go to bed, and then getting out of bed for the day, rested, when I actually want to be starting my days.
Help me to see clearly, please, Lord. Guide me to pursue and fulfill your will by being my best self. Thank you for this life and this opportunity. In your name, I pray. Amen.
My left shoulder has been giving me some surprising grief this past week, and I’ve also had a lot of trouble sleeping well. At the chiropractor today, she said that the shoulder pain was mostly due to my jaw’s being slightly out of place. She then did some subtle shifting inside my mouth, and I felt almost I stand relief in certain areas of my neck and shoulder. The rest, she said, would dissipate over the next day-ish, as it likely was pain due to inflammation that remained. So far, it has gone down loads more since she adjusted my mouth this morning.
She also mentioned that clenching my jaw might be a factor… something that I know myself to do sometimes at night, though I haven’t yet figured out when I do it versus not (because I definitely don’t do it all the time – I can tell the next morning whenever I’ve done it overnight). But she also is concerned that my aligners might also be the culprits…, which, unfortunately, wouldn’t surprise me. I haven’t been able to rest with my teeth together ever since I had my teeth straightened… I spend the whole day with my lips closed, but my teeth never touching, and I had to train myself to do that. Not sure it was what was best for me to have done, but it was what I did as my teeth got straightened out. However, they never aligned for me to set them together comfortably. I have to push my lower jaw out in order to rest them all together.
And, boy(!), did we get loads accomplished in the yard today! I had an amazing time today, taking it easy while using my physical energy to make improvements to our backyard. We added so much beauty today, it was such a blessing to be able to do it all. And it was even more of a blessing not to have to check the clock… at all. We just got to take care of things, have fun together, argue a lot about what way to do certain things (especially when one of us already had a way we were going to do it, and the other didn’t realize that), and learn to let it go and continue onward together, even when we did separate things from one another. It was just a beautiful day making beautiful things.
And, oh, yeah, it was extremely hot. One neighbor mentioned that there may even have been a heat warning… so, there’s that.
But today was such a blessing and a meditation and a working out of kinks, it was perfect.
Thank you, God, for this day. We tidied so much more than just the yard today. Thank you for all of it. Help us always to see clearly our next step to fulfill your will. In your name, I pray. Amen.
We went to Mass this evening, and I kind of really like doing that. There is something about ‘making sure we go to Mass’ on Sunday that usually makes Sundays just not feel like a day of rest. I certainly want to go to Mass. But there is something about going Saturday evening that makes so much more seem possible in a weekend. It’s easy to have dinner after a 5pm on Saturday, because we can stay up late Saturday night. But dinner after a 5pm on Sunday must be quick and orderly, and we have to ‘get to it’ to get everything ready for bed and for an early start Monday morning. If we do Sunday morning Mass, we can’t stay up late Saturday night, removing much of the fun of having a Saturday night without a day of work after it, but with a day of rest to follow. Granted, we aren’t going out and partying hard or anything. Oftentimes, we are just doing things at home after dinner, or wanting to watch a movie or something, just hanging out together, even. But we’d have to cut it all short, especially in the summer, to go get ready for bed, if we had Mass the next morning. Plus, there is a certain stress around making sure alarms are set for everyone to get up and out the door in time for Church the next morning, allied with getting as much sleep as possible yet practicable. We can never seem to get to bed truly early enough on a Saturday night – we have too much energy for that on Saturdays – not to be rushing the next morning to get to Mass. So, Sunday morning Mass always has a certain stress tied to it.
What’s more, I get stressed having to keep an eye on the time all day to make sure we don’t miss the only chance we have for something. By going to Mass Saturday, the idea of having the options of Sunday morning and evening, just in case something changes or comes up, gives me great ease…
Coming home from Mass on Sunday requires down time for me. Often, I want to go do something, to celebrate the joys we just got to experience in Mass. But that doesn’t work out so easily on a Sunday evening, for reasons already mentioned, or on a Sunday after morning Mass, because it’s time to start getting ready for lunch and anything else that needs to get done that day before bedtime routines need to start.
This may all sound ridiculous, but it is very real for me. I had forgotten the ease that came with Saturday vigil. Experiencing it tonight brought forth a release of stress that I hadn’t fully realized I’d been carrying about Sunday Mass. But, boy, can I feel the lifting of that weight tonight as I go to bed…
I can now look forward to a Sunday in which I don’t have to get dressed up or go be around and with a lot of people. I can truly have a day of rest and contemplation in my own home. The hubbub and buzz of going to Church is much more suiting for Saturday and its many activities and events and general happenings around town. The restful start – without the alarm and rushing to get ready and out the door – with no requirements but to be faithful and to be here, makes Sunday a true day of rest, and, thereby, prayer and contemplation, as well as an offering to God. Wow.
Thank you, God, for this insight into my relationship with you and with the world around me. Thank you for this love. Amen.
Dear Lord, please, help my man to find relief and fulfillment in his work. If this is not the job for him, help him to find clearly what he must do now and next, and when next is. Please, make his every step clear for us both, that we may pursue and fulfill your will through his work. Grant him ease and confidence, please. In your name, I pray. Amen.
I prefer that term to the one actually used, traffickers, as the term used makes me think painfully of human and child versions of it. Super sore subject for me, which only increases the pain of the actual topic at hand.
Anyway, we crossed a National Geographic show that was a documentary-esque suspense-injected show following federal police at airports in Peru and Italy who track and aim to prevent drug trafficking. At first, it was really cool to see the police work and to work so well. But it eventually just became increasingly sad – all the people involved in the trafficking have miserably sad problems that led them to make the smuggling attempt in the first place. Most of them were convinced by some outside source that it would work and that they would receive enough money from that someone afterward that would solve some major problem in their lives. In a way, advantage was taken of them, and some even were conned into doing it.
These people’s lives are then directed to years in prison, the single instance of drug transfer is stopped, and the origins of the drugs in the first place are left practically untouched. So, it may make things a bit tougher for the drug organizations to distribute their drugs around the globe, but what do they truly care about a small amount stopped at an airport? It cost them only that small amount, and the people imprisoned were no skin off their backs. They likely will find more sad and desperate people to take the risk the next day, again and again.
The cycle is not stopped, only disturbed with a small ripple.
The one consolation I had – that they may at least have a place to live with food and water once imprisoned, keeping them off the streets and from utter poverty – was dashed at the mention of the high likelihood that they might be “removed permanently” by the drug folks and their connections within prisons.
How utterly sad… all of it is immensely sad.
Though it is a new way for me to look at the world, I can see very easily how this very much is the work of the devil. (Yes, that still sounds weird to me, but I believe it nonetheless.)
Dear God, please, help us to heal the broken people. Help the most broken ones to return to you and your guidance. Help us all to repent and to turn fully to you and your will, at all levels and in all places and at all times. We are all in such need of you – help us to hear your call and to respond lovingly to it and with the immediately due haste. Help us, please, to love and to be filled with your love. Help us to embrace your love such that we can always and powerfully reject the devil and his ways. Help us to start to heal your people and this beautiful world you created and in which we still are blessed to live. In your name, I pray. Amen.
Well, jury duty was a success. I prayed a lot about it, and I asked for clear guidance, courage, and the necessary words and judgement from God and the dear Saints in order to do God’s will and to share his love in the world through me, and I do believe they provided it all. I knew I would be selected as a potential juror – one of those God-granted feelings – and I ended up being the second-to last one called, of 80 people (from a total of about 200 folks who didn’t get excused).
But, because I’d known, when there were only five names remaining, I knew not to think I was about to go home. It was just a matter of which number I was. And that was juror number 79.
And juror number 79, despite full intentions not to speak up about things unless absolutely necessary, spoke up a lot.
Mostly, I asked for clarity on things, definitions, to repeat something that had been read aloud quickly (which half the room could not actually read on the far-away screen in small font – seriously, what are they thinking there?? – in the first place). Sometimes, I answered the questions they were asking, mostly when I had a clear answer to share and no one else was speaking up already or had not mentioned what I then added. For the most part, each time I contributed left me chucking to myself quietly afterward and shaking my head. I had asked for clear guidance and the right words for fulfilling God’s will, and it was quickly clear that God wanted me to be seen and heard today.
I was not one of the annoyances – a few people did it intentionally, and several just didn’t seem to have a clue on many things – but I was involved a decent amount throughout the two hours of questioning from the attorneys. By the end of it, I was genuinely wanting to be on the jury.
It was even a criminal case, which I had feared most beforehand. The subject, however sensitive it may be, was a matter in which I truly felt I could see both sides freely. I have had to sort through some serious crap that was done to me in my life, and that people I care about have done. And I have learned to honor that they did what they felt was the only option at the time – no matter how horrible the action may have been or how twisted their thinking likely was – and that people do not necessarily act maliciously when they commit crimes against others… even the really bad ones. Yes, there certainly are plenty of times that malicious intent is present for crimes in this world – the devil’s work is rampant at times. But it is not necessarily there, and that distinction is well beyond being of little importance, and possibly one of the most important aspects of a crime.
Now, the one place where I disagree heartily with the legal system is that people who’s really convicted of crimes rarely get the actual rehabilitative help they truly need to rejoin society as fully functioning, contributing, and valuable members of society. Often, they are merely given fines and/or locked up for a long time, and then released, older and a bit wiser, but not likely healed from whatever caused them to commit a crime in the first place. That, to me, is extremely sad and unequivocally important. However, that set aside for the moment, as there is nothing that would handle it so immediately as to be relevant today, my mind really went in a direction I had not fully expected for today (though, it did not surprise me truly).
Wanting to be on that jury felt odd. I would not be at all surprised if the defendant had done the crime of which he was accused. But I also would believe that he hadn’t done it at all, or hadn’t done it in a sound mind with the true intention of injury that may have resulted from it. But I knew I could see both sides openly, and that I could call out my automatic judgements and biases rather well – after all, I had been doing it since we’d started the afternoon’s questioning.
I had major biases that came up for each of the attorneys present, as well as the rest of the people in the room. And I intentionally let each of those drop, so that I could consider what was actually being offered to me, instead of my predetermined judgements. One side had a good-looking attorney and then a mostly smooth-talking attorney who asked all the questions. Though I fully love my state, I did not trust these young and clean-cut state attorneys. As I thought about it throughout the afternoon, I came up with a clear way to say how I seem to approach everything and everything: I am respectfully skeptical of everyone (and everything). I notice my biases and immediately look to see how things would be different without them. I typically alter my behavior with my thinking, whenever necessary in those moments.
The other side of the trial had an older, somewhat dumpy-looking (due to fat, not any actual unkempt nature of the man – he was quite clean and together) attorney who was not great with technology (but he figured it out well enough!), and a slow-talking and occasionally bumbling attorney who was clearly not the best at switching between reading and speaking on the fly. My natural instinct was to trust the good-looking attorneys and not the not-good-looking ones, to trust the easygoing quick-tongued one and not the slower one. But I saw those biases and did not trust them as truth. They are merely judgements, and do not necessarily determine what is actually true. Like with the slower talking attorney who struggled with the back-and-forth of questioning and reading his notes and adapting to changes – we all learn differently. Anyone can look like an idiot in the right setting, and anyone can thrive and seem like a genius in the right setting. These men are no exception. One lawyer thrives on the talking, the other does not. It does not mean that the latter cannot make a better legal case – just that it won’t have such pretty words and fluidity as the former’s.
So, anyway, having constantly to set aside my judgements had me realize that I not only could be quite valuable on a jury, but that I wanted to be on the jury because I felt I could be fair in my judgements. Even if the man had done the crimes, if the court could not provide evidence in support of it beyond a reasonable doubt, he is innocent in court, no matter if the whole jury were to think him guilty; he must be declared innocent of the crimes. Taking it one step further, no matter the outcome in court, his behavior going forward for the rest of his life will determine for him what happens for eternity for him. Either he will be with God or he will not be with God. Whatever the case, that part is on him in this life, determined by him and by him alone. We have no say in that. But we do have say as to whether the evidence provided supports one way or the other the accusation given to this man. (And, somehow, that realization this morning made all the difference for me.)
In the end, nine men and three women were selected, and they didn’t even make it past the 50s in the selections. So, though I very much expected to be on the jury, they never even got to discuss me as a possibility. I’d briefly forgotten what I had been grateful to remember initially this morning that juries are selected in order, only moving forward if one is denied – a jury could be the first 12 jurors if no denials arise on either side of the case, however unlikely that may actually be. Ours had the first half of the jury filled by juror ten, at which point I remembered how they filled a jury and was bummed out a bit. I likely was the only person released today who wasn’t really glad to have been released.
God granted me understanding and a change of mind, as I very much anticipated, and somewhat didn’t want. Haha
Now, it was perfect that I’d had the duty today, as it placed me near the car dealership. Just as I was leaving, I cracked my windows a bit to let out the hot air from inside the car. I rolled them all back up a few seconds later as I drove out of the parking lot to head home.
And I heard a metallic-like CRACK!
In some degree, the rear passenger window had come off its railings in a malfunction, and would not slide up anymore. I pulled over only to find that the window could slide casually down and down and down.
Not good.
So, I dropped it to the dealership – because this has to be covered under warranty, since I rarely use the window and the car isn’t even three years old – even though they had no appointments available for the final 40 minutes of their workday. The manager was actually helpful and kind to me, though – I’d never met him before, but I had had lots of struggle with agents in the past there – and sent me on my way in an Uber rather quickly, after a free snack and drink. (I had a soda can of V8 that was just veggies with tomatoes, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.) Someone will look at the window in the morning, and they’ll let me know the full situation. Until then, it will sit inside a shop, with window tape covering the slightly open window. It might be a few days for parts to be ordered and delivered. They would give me a free rental car, but only once they know what’s wrong and confirm it is warranty-valid (versus tampering). So, I’ll have to go back to get the rental car, which is rather far from home. So, we’ll see what happens.
Whatever the case, sure glad I had the jury duty summons today, which put me right by the dealership, and sure glad I don’t have the case the rest of this week, so I don’t have to figure out how to get way out there without my vehicle tomorrow.
Phew!
God sure has a way of helping us to find gratitude in upsets.
hannah ananas 