The Broncos won last night!! Such a good game to be at! The fourth quarter was lovely! And the weather was nice. I’m still not on the Tebow bandwagon, but at least I’m feeling a bit more proud of our team. Uncle Mike wins awesome Uncle of the Year award for hauling us back to the Light Rail station at DU, and also because his commentary during the game always makes me smile. He’s the best to sit by. (Also, Mom and I were reminiscing about the drive to Chicago all those years ago. And he still wins for that.)
Tomorrow is National Adoption Day. Did you know that there are over 107,000 kids in foster care waiting to be adopted? A lot of them won’t ever be, which is really sad. Every child deserves a family.
I hope that when I grow up (a little more), I am able to be a foster parent or at least get involved in helping foster kids find good adoptive homes.
Also, Mike just finished writing a big paper for his psychology class about adoptions and success in life. If you’re interested, you might email him and ask for a copy. I know that he spent a lot of time working on it and considering all of the factors that can affect people who’ve been adopted.
My boss (who has four adopted children of his own) always says that kids who are adopted only want to know two things: why they were given up and who their birth parents are. He’s so right. I know why I’m where I am today and I know half of who my birth parents are, but I find that as I get older, the desire to know just what my biological father looked like grows stronger. Where is this nose from?!
I’m stoked to procreate the regular way one day and have kids who look like me, but I think that should I run into conception challenges – I’d absolutely consider adoption over other fertility stuff. (Not knocking all the IVF and surrogacy stuff, just saying.)
Today is Grandpa George’s birthday (he would have been 86) and my half-birthday. Mom always sends me a text on my half birthday, and every year, I have no idea that it’s today until I get it. (This is also just another piece of evidence that she loves me more than Mike – he doesn’t get half-birthday texts or facebook wall posts.)
Happy Birthday Grandpa George! I emailed Grandma to say that this would have been the age we would have started to tease him about being very elderly.
Pretending that you’re not as poor as you are is getting to be really stressful. I know that I make a lot of lifestyle choices, including my adventures, but each of those choices involve a lot of careful planning and sacrifice. I am so grateful for all of the support systems I have in my life – I know that if I was desperate, I could call Mom, but at the same time, I’m so determined to be completely independent that I won’t dare. There’s no need. I won’t rely on anyone to take care of me. Not now, or ever.
Once bills and rent and loan payments are made, the daily budget sits somewhere around $15 (give or take) – which sounds like it’s good enough until you realize that filling your car up with gas is two days worth of life expenses. Everything comes down to “how many days do I lose?” if I do or eat or buy this or that or the other thing. That said, I refuse to let experiences pass me by. I will not stay home and let life go on without me. There are so many things I’d like to do (like get Simon a new bumper, one month of life expenses) that fall by the wayside. I spend a lot of time stressing out about this (and retirement), especially since I feel like so many of my friends (all of them) are making more than me.
I realize I shouldn’t complain. I’m really lucky. I’m happy at work; I’m learning a lot; it’s a laid-back environment (which I need and thrive in).
But it makes me feel like I’m not good enough, not as smart, not as talented, not as driven, not as successful, not as goal oriented, not as focused, utterly lacking potential for growth. (There’s a lot of NOTs in there, and I’d like to be able to focus more of my energy on being less NOT and more BE – as in I AM successful, I AM goal oriented, I AM focused, driven, etc.) It’s just overwhelmingly frustrating and really scary. I would like just one month where I could buy a new pair of jeans (a week or so out of my budget). Or boots that didn’t come from Target (3x the daily budget). Or eat three meals a day. Maybe next year. Maybe I just need to find another weekend job. Or start babysitting more. I’ve been eating the same damn baguette (1/7 of the daily budget) for three days now, and I’m getting about as annoyed as it is stale.
Sorry, that was ridiculous and completely self-pitying, but it needed to come out. I need to remind myself that I’m wallowing sometimes. It helps when it’s public – it makes you think twice before having any self-depreciating moments. It also enhances the wince and the inner shame. Both are great character builders.
Tonight, one of my favorite bands is in town. I didn’t even know they were coming (what does that say about me?) until yesterday when I saw that they had tweeted from Colorado Springs. But they’re going to be here! And I have tickets! And I’m beyond excited! Between this concert and the one in two weeks (Mickey Avalon), I am crossing two bands off my bucket list. It’s going to be a productive end to 2011.
Shwayze – Get U Home
Shwayze – Crazy For You
Shwayze – Drunk Off Your Love
Tomorrow is up in the air. I’m either going to take Mike’s car and go up to the mountains before babysitting, or I’m going to write my personal statement for grad school and get the mountain of laundry done before it threatens to eat both me and Carlos.
I’m secretly hoping that laundry wins this battle. I have just wanted to get rid of everything I own lately. I just want to pare down my clothes pile so that I’m only keeping what I’ll actually wear. I would also like to clean the entire apartment from top to bottom.
It’s been one of those really long weeks. I’m physically and mentally exhausted. I’ve done a lot of stuff, though. Boulder, Broncos game, Suite 200 – never again, whatever it was that I did on Monday night. I’m in a great mood and I’d like to channel this positive energy into something useful, like a clean apartment.