Musings on Rachel Joi

two years of dates

Wed, 18 Oct 2017 08:00:00 +0000

For Christmas of 2015, Carl and I decided to plan a year of dates. We alternated months and planned an activity around town (or at least within driving distance), trying to keep the overall budget down, but allowing for a splurge. We liked it so much that we did it again this last year and are planning on doing it this Christmas too. We haven’t done all of them, whether because of time constraints or budget constraints or something else, but we’ve managed to get to about 3/4 of them. Without further ado, here they are!

insecurity and bravery

Mon, 26 Jun 2017 08:00:00 +0000

My husband won’t sing in front of me. He’s taking voice lessons with a great teacher (Tyler Kofoed, if you’re interested), and he says he’s getting better, but he won’t sing for me. Part of it is intimidation, because I’ve been taking lessons and just singing a lot longer, but part of it is massive insecurity and not wanting to reveal that he’s not great at something. I didn’t realize it was actually a thing until he nearly had a panic attack after he almost got up the nerve to let me warm him up the other day. He calls me brave. It’s not a word I generally claim, because I think I would back down from a physical altercation, and I’m not sure I would rush into a burning building to save cats. But in some ways, I am brave. I ignore the part of my ego that cares what other people think, and when I want to do something, I just don’t give a damn about other people. Take climbing. It had been over ten years since I last went climbing (indoors, but still). Ten years and, oh, 50-60 pounds. My harness didn’t really fit anymore. Did you know that shoes feel tighter when you’ve gained that much weight? But I decided to go climbing at a gym here with a friend. We started with bouldering (stupid idea, but I didn’t have a harness that fit), and I fell off the wall. Many times. At one point, I fell on my way walking to the wall. Yeah. I shut down the part of me that said I was too big and clumsy and weak and lazy and all manner of bad things, and I made some progress. And then a little more the next time. And when I finally got a harness that fit, I got a little ways up a wall a few times. And then more. And now, I’m still not very good, and not very strong, but I’m getting better each time, and no one has even tried to say that I’m too big to climb, or anything negative at all. I’m really insecure about most everything. I know I’m smart, but I’m not doing big, important things with it. I know I’m a good musician, but I’m not in top-notch ensembles. I know I’m kind and funny, but I’m sometimes unsatisfied with my friendships. I could create a very long list of the things that I am insecure about, but you get the idea. My pride and my bravery and very closely related to my insecurity. It comes from deciding that my life would be better for having tried something, or for letting something go, than to stick with the old ways of doing things. And once I decide that, the external naysayers get the same treatment as the internal naysayers: I ignore them, or, at least, try to ignore them.

luxury and want

Mon, 03 Apr 2017 08:00:00 +0000

What conjures thoughts of luxury to you? Nice purses? Hand-tailored suits? Expensive scotch? For me, yes, those are luxurious items, but a much simpler luxury item is… Goldfish. Yeah, the cheese crackers shaped like fish. I still feel a little self-indulgent when I buy them. Realizing that has made me think about how our childhood circumstances continue to affect our thinking as we are older. Growing up, my mom supported our family of four on a pastor’s salary. She served congregations that were made up of people who were mostly middle and upper-middle class. I don’t know how much she made, and it’s not terribly relevant. We didn’t have money for new books (realizing that I couldn’t get the books I wanted from the Scholastic flyer is a decently strong memory), rarely went out to eat, and did a lot of shopping at Goodwill. My mom made most of my clothes until we moved to Germany. I didn’t have my first pair of jeans until I was in sixth grade, and those were hand-me-downs from a boy in the church. I loved the clothing she made me; she is a great seamstress, and I was never self-conscious about what I was wearing, though… I do remember a lot of pairs of pink sweatpants. I would get a new dress for Easter, and it was kind of a big deal when she bought me one instead of making it. She stopped making my clothes when we moved, in part because fabric was so much more expensive in Europe. Our snacks were not fancy - string cheese, homemade cookies (yum) - but she would sometimes buy Goldfish. I loved those things, but they seemed to only come out on special occasions. I felt really high-class when I would get to eat Goldfish, and that has stayed with me into adulthood. (Now that we’re just a couple weeks from Easter, I’ve been thinking about how our plastic Easter eggs were filled with Froot Loops and sugary cereals that were only in our house for those times.) In spite of not having much disposable income in our daily life (maybe because of it), we had an annual vacation that would take us camping in Yellowstone or driving along the Pacific coast while we lived in the US, and Italy, Spain and Portugal, Crete, Israel, or many other places while we lived in Europe. My mom spent money on experiences rather than stuff while we were growing up, so even though we would take our own snacks and sandwiches to Disneyland, we went to Disneyland most years with her family. We traveled widely in Europe, staying in hostels and not being terribly adventurous in cuisine, following Rick Steves’ guidance and exploring on our own. It was an incredible way to grow up, and I’m happy to have those experiences to remember. I now have a situation where we have two incomes and no children, in a city with a reasonable cost of living, but I still hesitate before I buy myself name-brand snacks or the leaner beef. And Goldfish, well, those are just special.

living in Utah - one year later

Fri, 04 Nov 2016 13:00:00 +0000

We have now been in Utah for a full year. We’re feeling settled and are having fun here. We’ve learned our way around, found friends, communities, volunteer opportunities, I found a job (!), we’ve done some outdoorsy activities (though not as much as either of us would like), and we’ve acclimated to the culture for the most part. Utah is just different in some ways, with the dominant religion influencing secular life in a fairly large way. The refugee family I mentor was told by another volunteer that Christmas isn’t big here, and that Halloween is much bigger. That jives with what we’ve seen, but it’s influenced by religion (the Christmas thing, at least) rather than just being less important. The institution I work for is a Utah business, so we don’t get Christmas Eve off, just Christmas Day. Another thing influenced by religion is the prevalence of specialty soda shops. There’s a big emphasis on sweets rather than coffee and alcohol. But those who aren’t LDS seem to drink a lot more coffee and a lot more alcohol to make up for it. Some of the politics and legal stuff is weird, but it’s not terrible, and we’ve gotten used to it. I get angry about politics in a lot of places, so Utah is just another instance of this. The outdoor activities in this state can’t be beat. We’ve been to three national parks this year (Bryce Canyon, Arches, and Canyonlands), have gone camping at Nine-Mile Canyon (petroglyphs all over the place), and have gone on a number of hikes. No skiing last winter, but we’re hoping to change that this winter. There’s a walking/bike trail that goes from pretty far up north all the way south along a river. We’ve only explored a few miles of it, but it’s quite inviting. The climate is more temperate than Kansas, still getting cold in the winter and hot in the summer, but nowhere near the extremes of Kansas. The downside of the climate here is inversion, which comes from living in a valley between two mountain ranges. The pollution stays in the valley, settling like smog and staying there for up to weeks at a time, until a storm clears it out. It gets so bad that people are supposed to stay inside, and people who work outside wear ventilators. I’ve found people with whom to play board games, people with whom to knit, and a great voice teacher. People are very friendly and welcoming. My church is a wonderful community. Work is a good place for me to be. All in all, we’re happy here and think we’ll be here awhile.