Monday, March 22, 2010

Messenger bike.

I spent the weekend in Pagosa Springs, Colorado with some friends just for a relaxing getaway. It was lovely.

We stayed in a bed and breakfast, which I had never done before, but very much enjoyed. I had the thought that it would be fun to own one myself someday... that is, if it weren't so impractical.

We stopped at several gift shops. At one in particular, the woman who sold her hand-made crafts was having a huge sale to celebrate staying in business for 8 years. I admired her commitment to her passion, especially because the things she sold were just trinkets that didn't serve any real purpose.

We spent a couple hours soaking in the hot springs. In one such pool, we talked to a man who was telling us all about his trip to New Zealand and how he and his family had taken a self-guided tour of a bunch of the places that the Lord of the Rings trilogy was filmed. As he described in detail how much fun it was, I thought about how expensive it must have been, and right then and there resigned myself to the fact that I'd most likely never get to see it for myself.

And then...

As we stopped off the side of the road to take some scenic pictures the next day, another car had parked 50 feet or so away from us. Two men got out of the car and began unloading their road biking gear. As we looked around at the scenery, I turned around in time to see the two men on their bikes begin climbing the fairly steep road up the canyon. I smiled and called out, "you're braver souls than I!"

One biker man smiled and called back out, still pedaling, "You could do it too!"

I snorted and countered, "Yeah right! In my dreams."

Then the biker, almost out of earshot, called out without looking back, "So dream!"

... He couldn't have said anything more appropriate if it had been scripted.

I spent the rest of the trip thinking about how any virtue taken to an extreme can become a vice... including practicality.

Saturday, March 6, 2010


This week a woman may or may not have lost her job due (at least in part) to my complaints about her lack of attention to detail in her responsibilities... which has a direct relation to how successful I am in MY job.

And last night I had a dream that this woman was stalking me and leaving threatening messages on my car hidden inside canned foods, which is evidence of how uneasily this rests on my mind (not too mention evidence that I spend too much time around canned foods).

I have many flaws, but one that has been consistent across my 28 years of life is that I am, at core, a tattle tale. I do my darndest to follow rules and work hard and be good, and sometimes it's not convenient, and sometimes I don't want to, but I do it anyway operating under the assumption that everyone else will behave the same way. (Like traffic laws. Except the speed limit part.)

So when someone blatantly DOESN'T behave the same way, and it has a negative effect on myself or a loved one, and I get a glimpse of a little gleam in their eye that comes from knowing that they're getting away with something, well...

...I, for some reason, feel it my responsibility to be the one to dish them a negative consequence. Because if there are never obvious negative consequences for deviant behaviors, why would an individual be inclined to cease the behavior? Am I right?

No, I'm not right. Jesus says so. But this is the part where I admit it's a fault.

I have vivid memories from elementary school where I would be standing in line for lunch, and someone would butt in front of me in line to stand with a friend, and I would without thinking twice point at them very obviously and say rather loudly, "Hey, he just butt in line! This kid here! He wasn't in line, and then he just butt in!" until the person, embarrassed by the attention, would retreat to the end.

Yeah. I was that girl.

I've gotten better at resisting this oh-so-popular impulse of mine. And in the case of this woman at work, I wasn't the only one who had complaints against her, and her lack of follow-through was negatively affecting much more than just me... but I still feel bad about her situation.

And I keep an eye out for mysterious canned goods near my car.