Two Things

1. Cakewrecks is my new favorite blog.

2. When I return from my 10-day end-of-summer vacation, I will have a job waiting for me. Today my bus choice became clear, and I have no question that this is the path I am supposed to be on right now in my life. I am giddy with excitement about this opportunity, and I promise more details later, but right now I'm headed out west to celebrate.

Interview Update

Both interviews went well yesterday, and I have a 2nd interview with hospice today during C's nap (his mom will be home - don't worry - I'm not leaving a 2-year-old home alone napping while I go out to a job interview!). I am hopeful that I will also get a 2nd interview at the hospital job, which is definitely my first choice. 

The very wise, never-updates-his-blog-but-he's-still-a-good-person Burger said he hopes that I might have my choice of busses, and I like that image.

Thank you all for the well-wishes from across the country and across the globe. It is nice to walk into an interview feeling so supported.

Stay tuned...

Hmmm.

I'm not sure what kind of sign it is that when I left my interview this morning at a hospice organization I got stuck in traffic waiting for a funeral procession to pass...

Bits and Pieces

1. Two job interviews tomorrow (2 different jobs). Both are jobs I'm qualified for and that I'd love to have, so please send happy, non-tongue-tied-interview-answer thoughts my way at 10:30am EST and 4pm EST. Thankyouverymuch.

2. Anyone have any hints for straightening out a strand of pearls? I want to wear them for the wedding I'm in next month, but they look like they've been stuffed in a box (they have). I'm hanging them on a hook right now, hoping that gravity can help, but seeing as pearls aren't all that heavy, the hanging doesn't seem to be making much of a difference.

3. I'm reading again! Finished Dan Brown's Deception Point a few weeks ago, and am now reading Eats, Shoots and Leaves and Freakonomics.  Any and all recommendations welcome.

A Summer Story

When I was eleven, I went to summer camp for the second summer. There was a girl there named Amy who was a few years older and had a kind of junior counselor role at camp. She had a beautiful smile and the kind of personality that lit up a room. She was incredibly talented musically and would often sing or play piano with a small group of younger girls all gathered around, singing with her.

On one such day we all gathered around her at the piano to sing. We happily belted out song after song until it was time to leave. As we all headed to lunch, Amy pulled  me aside. I was nervous about being singled out and was concerned I had done something wrong.  

"I just wanted to tell you that you have a beautiful voice," she said to me, "so keep singing." I remember just staring up at her, my idol, the young woman I wanted so much to be like someday, and being completely at a loss for words. I had always liked to sing - it had always been a part of my life - but this person was telling me that I was good at it and was encouraging me to make sure to nurture that talent. 

A feeling washed over me - a feeling I had never felt before. I was so honored and proud to hear those words of encouragement from her, and yet also somewhat overwhelmed. At a time when I was starting to feel the awkward insecurities of my pre-teen years, those words meant so much to me, and I found myself getting choked up from the emotion of it all.

I walked back towards my friends with tears streaming down my cheeks. They saw my tears and asked with concern why I was crying, and I shrugged because I didn't know. They asked if I was sad, and I found myself laughing through my tears and telling them that I was pretty sure I was crying because I was happy. 

I never saw Amy again after that summer. And I never became a professional singer. But I did carry with me the memory of how significant it was to be reminded of talents and strengths that I didn't even know existed.

This morning I received an email appreciating me for my honesty and caring and willingness to speak and act openly when many others do not. These are traits that are so a part of me that, like singing, I forget sometimes that they are strengths. The email spoke of the beauty that comes from making oneself vulnerable and the rewards that can come from being open to possibility, and as I read it I found myself full of that same mysterious feeling I felt 19 summers ago, with tears in my eyes and joy in my heart. Full of gratitude for all that is good in this world, and for the people who help me remember to appreciate it all, I share this with you now: