New Boss starts Monday

We still call it Diane's office, will be that to us for a while, even after Kendra moves in. After our amazing director left us in early June we all thought it would be September or October before she was replaced. That's how things move in university time.

Lo and behold, there was someone available who could start July 1. Amazing! The search process requirement was waived. The interview process condensed to one day. We gave our feedback. It wasn't glowing. We all like her and think she'll be a good fit here. She's a woman of integrity and has great experiences, they just have nothing to do with what it is we do here.

Not sure who to feel most sorry for, those of us who miss Diane, or Kendra who has no idea what she's getting into.

the breakup, follow-up

Her husband called my husband to talk. The guys were almost as close as we were. He wasn't upset, just wanted my husband to know that she had cried all night. She understood that the friendship was ending. So not what I intended. This isn't over. Still lots of praying, and hopefully lots of sharing to be done.

The Road Not Taken

I Googled an old boyfriend. What an interesting experience. He was an interesting experience! We met just as he was ending his foreign exchange year here in the states. He is from Oslo Norway. We swapped letters and dreamed of meeting again. But like all high school summer romances, except in Grease, it ended.

Stig is his name. He was part of the Norwegian Olympic cross country ski team. Oh yes, the legs were amazing. I knew his dad was a doctor and he was planning to go to med school.

Google was kind, the list was long. Seems he's not only a doctor, but the Orthopedic Surgeon for the Norwegian Olympic team and an internationally published researcher. I could have lived my life in Norway the wife of a minor celebrity. Oh well...

the breakup

She was waiting in the booth when I got there like so many times before. I even knew what she'd order. Only this wasn't just like every other time, one of us was holding back. We swapped our kid stories, kids whose lives were maybe more entwined than our own. We gave updates about our widowed moms. The fries 'extra crispy' came and I watched as the ketchup flowed onto the plate and the salt sprinkle melted into the puddle of red. I couldn't eat. Wasn't hungry. That had never stopped me before, but tonight I just wasn't interested in food. I wanted this meeting to end, had wanted it to end from the moment the date was made.

Here's why you're not hearing from me: and then I faltered, I struggled, I even pointed out how hard it was to get the words out of my mouth. No, you haven't offended me, per se. No, you haven't done or said anything that's made me mad, not really. You just don't enhance my life, but that's not as selfish as it might sound. Wait! That's not what I mean.

Then it happened. She quit listening. Just stopped. The eyes averted. The reach for the check and the purse. She was done. I asked if we couldn't dialogue. She said she wouldn't be calling any more. She had appreciated my friendship and support in the past and would be sad to not have that any more. She also didn't understand how she could 'fix' things if no one would tell her what was wrong. I asked if she could take a step back and look at her life from another perspective and see what advise she would give herself. I said I wasn't willing to laundry list the issues, that's not what adults do to each other. But she was gone, not physically, but gone.

We walked to our cars separately.

What shall we call you?

Blogging is really just an expression of our living in hope that we will be published some day. After the contract negotiations and editorial wrangling there's that one nagging question, "What shall we call you?"

My uncle, who was to be a famous musician, always wanted to be called Pierre Shastikovich. When I play lazer tag I'm known as Xena, Princess Warrior. But were I to be published in print that would open a whole other realm.

Perhaps I would choose just one name like Madonna, or the symbol formerly known as Prince. Cher almost had a commanding sound to it.

Or I could use my first and middle names as if they were all I had: Kristin Leigh. Then there's the possibility of a derivation of my husband's first name and I would be Kris Jefferson. My maiden name would provide a modicum of recognition in the world for anyone who knew me more than 25 years ago, but Kris Surface just doesn't ring for me any more.

I guess this question will have to remain unanswered for the time being.

Sleep disorder

Ever really look at your pillows? I did when I changed the sheets this weekend. They're really kind of sorry looking. Why don't I just buy new ones? They aren't that expensive. Maybe that answers the birthday question.

Speaking of pillows... Jeff and I have developed a new system of space allocation. It's working great, I highly recommend it. We have a "barrier pillow" that takes up the space between us. No, it's not a signal for no access. It's more of a speed bump to keep us from taking up each other's space. Just turn one pillow sideways between you. It's a good thing.

New trend in home building, master suite with separate sleeping rooms. That could work too! More expensive than a barrier pillow, but the idea has merit.

Money for nothing

My birthday is stressing me out, and it's not for almost a week.

What do I do with the birthday money I know I'll be getting from my Mom and my inlaws? Jeff's birthday money funded our trip to Colorado, which we shared. I need something to wear to my inlaws 50th in August. There are so many cute dresses out this year, just check out Erin's blog! Would love to get something decadent like tanning minutes. There's this divine chair at Target, yes Target, that would look smashing in our office. I'll only have my Target discount two more weeks, so maybe that's a good choice. We could share the furniture and then I wouldn't feel so guilty about Jeff not getting anything for his birthday.

What to do, what to do?

Life Partner

Following are 5 criteria for the selection of a life partner. I wrote these for my daughter. Hope they're useful to you.

#1. Shared values
#2. Do you fit in their family and do they fit in yours
#3. Can you see this person as the parent of your children
#4. Are you proud of their behavior at all times
#5. Do they challenge you intellectually

UtiliKilt

Yessiree Bob, you read that right. UtilaKilt. First one I've ever seen up close and personal.

We noticed him right away as he strode onto the green. He, along with several thousand others, brought their chairs, blankets, and multicourse meals to enjoy an evening of jazz outside the campus art museum. He was noticeable not just for his fabulous main of hair, or the distinctive way he commanded the space around him, but for his ensemble. He was wearing an open neck white linen shirt, a leather thong necklace with a crystal pendant, and a kilt.

Not your average kilt, but one that looked like it could have been made by Carhart for wear on the job. It had pleats in all the right places which made it hang just right. The rows of utility pockets were a complete mystery. We knew right away he was not a Target shopper! But where would one find such a thing?

The answer came as he stepped to the table to have the artist sign his CD. His name is Randolph. Just when I was conjuring up a question in my head about where he might find such apparel, there it was - the tag, stitched into the side seam. UtiliKilt.

If anyone could wear a UtiliKilt it's a guy named Randolph.

The RUSH of Adrenaline

I used to love the rush of adrenaline. That 'zing' you get by just sneaking in under a deadline. That creative surge that happens when you're not sure you're going to make it, but the ideas are fairly leaping from your head, each one seeming better than the previous.

Not so any longer. I still wait, I still put off whatever I can. Not because I want to, but because it's become a pesky habit. Now that rush that used to give me added spark leaves me with a nasty hang over and a load of self-doubt.

Oh the joys of having burnt out my entire central nervous system leaving nothing but a few arcs of excitement and an occasional spark of glory.

Communing with other beings. Does it happen? Are there angels and demons all around us?

Reading an amazing novel, "Demon: a Memoir" referenced at the bottom of this page. The short story is that a book editor is approached by a demon who asks that his memoirs be published. The writer makes it seem that most of us are aware of the presence of spirit-beings around us all the time. She also makes the point that when most people think they've had contact with an angel, it's actually a demon posing as an angel.

I encourage you to get a copy and read it. Meditate on it. Look at the scripture references in the back and find some friends with whom you can chew on the study questions over some yummy food. This book is worth your time, it will change your life.