an unexpected change of plans
A year ago, I would've never expected to do what I just did today. A year ago, I had big dreams to get my PhD, write a book, be some historian on the History Channel, and be a lecturer on urban history that people wanted to hear.
Instead, today, I just signed and mailed a letter declining $40,000/year to go to school to get my PhD. When I got ready to drop it in the mailbox, I had to call one of my friends who always gives witty perspectives so that I could laugh as I put it in the mail. Her response: "You don't want that money; it's New Jersey, it's mafia money, anyway." I chuckled, and dropped it and went on my way. Read more
sweet sweet home
I left Alabama in 1961 and never went back to live. Not because I don’t like it, but because living outside it, I can see it more objectively. –William Christenberry
I've told people before that I have a love/hate relationship with Alabama. Jokingly, I tell them that I love it when I'm away, and I hate it when I'm there. It's halfway right, but mostly wrong, too.
While I shouldn't joke about how my home state, there is a lot that I feel really proud that the state has accomplished. For one, I am in love with the governor right now. Gov. Bob Riley is the best governor the state has had since Big Jim Folsom. Of course, Big Jim was pretty crooked, so technically, Riley is the cleanest governor so far that the state might have had… pretty much ever. But, Riley has brought some amazing industry to the state, and most of all, he has put honesty, honor, and dignity back into the governor's mansion, something that has been missing for far too long in the state of Alabama (plus, he wears cowboy boots with his suits, and rides a motorcycle). I'm also excited to see about the prospects of 2010 for the Governor's Mansion. It will be interesting to see what kind of impact Artur Davis can make on the state and its voting habits.
I grow incredibly homesick at times… with all of my family there, it is harder and harder to be away and to see my niece growing up just by pictures seems so unfair. It's difficult to have lived there and know everything about daily lives to just talking a few times a week and the conversations are short-lived. There are also people there that I have dear friendships with that I have really grown to miss our connections. While I have been gone, one friend has birthed a beautiful son, a few have gotten married, and others, well, I'm not gonna lie, I miss their stories. I miss the lunch gatherings at regular spots. I miss getting to see friends do stand-up. I miss the BBQ. Oh, dear sweet Lord, do I miss the BBQ. I mean, not as much as my family, of course, but I can call and talk to friends… there's no connection with BBQ here. None. Nada.
At the same time, when I do go home, because of my seeming "black sheep" status in the family, or even in the state, I feel out of place because I've been in D.C. and lived a life completely separate from that of everyone in Alabama. There's a sort of disconnect that happens at gatherings and functions. Once again, it becomes small talk, which I can't stand. Much of it is my fault, because I become so busy that I don't stay in touch with friends, but it's only half my fault. Still, it's painful to have a disconnect in a place that I consider my home. I sincerely want to know what is going on with people and their lives. Sadly, instead of conversation, we've let technology in the form of Facebook and Twitter replace those meaningful exchanges. I love knowing what is going on, and it's helpful, but a simple message on the 'book or a tweet in 140 characters can't exactly divulge every emotion of the heart.
In retrospect, I am on and off the fence with Christenberry's view of Alabama. Being away from it, I don't know that I can always see it more objectively. There are times when I can, and times when I can't. It's like a power switch. Perhaps I didn't stay long enough before I departed to have a connection to be able to hold my objectivity. Maybe that it why I yearn to visit so much, and I long for home much more than many of those around me. Or, maybe Christenberry is off base, and has no idea… and we are all critics of our home, no matter where this life takes us. It's what we do with that criticism, positive or negative, that shapes our viewpoints.
Either way, I suppose that since I have been such a nomad in my life, I will be forced to live by the old adage, "home is where you are." And, I need to learn to get used to it. But, I secretly still count down the days when I get to visit my dear sweet home Alabama.
HIPAA-critical
After my illness took a pretty quick downturn today, my mom, the super nurse (and former ER triage nurse) sent me to the ER via phone from Alabama. So, knowing that it'd be a long wait and would be absolutely miserable, I went anyway, because some of my symptoms were veering toward serious illness.
I got to get back in a pretty decent time frame, mainly because my symptoms triggered the sirens of crazed illness beyond just the viral or bacterial sickness. Of course, once you get back, that's when the waiting begins. I was poked and prodded every way possible. Blood work, head CT, strep test, x-rays, UAs, and a spinal tap (which failed because the doc didn't have the right needles, and just left me in pain).
But, while I was waiting in the lovely clinic-like ER side unit that was divided by lovely curtains, and I was nestled in "room" D5 for about 8 hours this evening, I got to hear every single conversation going on in D1-D4 & D6. And boy were they interesting. Read more
