I hereby solemnly swear to play nice in the sandbox of life - Approach ability

After more than a few conversations and planning sessions this weekend. I was left thinking, praying, feeling and reeling. Hmmm. Deep thoughts by Jack Handy. Or not. I work in a public capacity. I'm on most of the time. But when I'm off. I'm off. Until I'm not. Makes no sense right? Exactly. 

Our office mission is Committed to Service, Committed to YOU! I love it. We go the extra mile for our constituents. Hell, since my boss knows 3/4 of the County; was raised with 1/2 and by the other 1/2, we go the extra mile often for folks that aren't even our constituents. We have a great team and we back each other up.  If I see someone in need of assistance or advocacy be it with a store employee or government actor, I often step in and try to help. I love my Seniors that are glad if you can get them the services they need, or young folks who are happy to get freebies. I like helping people, so I like talking to people, being around them, ect, ect, ect.

And when that's all done. I want to be left alone. 

I like to think that I'm pleasant, approachable, nice even. Although there are many times, I really don't want to be bothered.  I'm just trying to get the kids to school, get gas, get through the store or gym. I'm not trying to hear about any problems or even chit chat. Keep it movin chief - ya heard?

Alas, I have now been called out on this practice.... and I'm not sure how I feel about it. 

It started with the inadvertent question of being approachable. Which was met with a chuckle and the response "I'm so glad I was forced to get to know you because if not, I would have NEVER figured you are all sunshine and giggles" and "You'd never know how sweet you are, you can seem like a total B in passing" The there was the "Well sometimes you breeze by, no hello, fast walk, all  business - but I figure that's just your NY" comment. Ummm - I'm from Indiana dude. 

I can't say I was shocked, its not the first time I've been told that I'm not what's expected. I don't mean to appear stand off but I do have a low tolerance for foolishness, I'm often short on time and can be preoccupied. All of those things can lead to me breezing by cutting around folks, sand greeting. Which is a shame because I love a toothy hello.

Then there is my BS meter. My DNC boy described me as ready, willing and happily able to call out bullshit on the regular. Its good for my profession, and the folks I'm cool with appreciate it but can lead to a not so nice impression if you don't know me. 

Funny thing is I'm nice (to an extent), kind of a push over and really silly at times.  Most importantly I don't want my character to be mistaken for something I'm not and impact my ability to get the work done. 

So as I move into a more public role and phase in life, I hereby vow to work at being more approachable: I will smile more often. I will be conscious and conscientious of the fact that I may have my " NY" on and its killing my pleasant demeanor. I will smile and turn my head as if I'm interested. I will cease and desist my cold blank stare and lastly and most importantly: I will reserve BS call outs only for close friends and family, and will do so only with genteel words and pictures. 

Sincerely  Angela M. Angel

** Caveat Emptor - This contract shall become null and void upon the utterance of nonsense  bullshit and ridiculousness. This contact is non-enforceable between the hours of 11:30 p.m to 8:30 a.m. This contract is voidable at anytime at the will of Signatory. Signatory has absolutely no obligation to inform you if contract is or is not in effect. If contract is in effect and your actions or words cause contract to become void, Signatory reserves all rights allowable to her under the laws and regulations of the Country of Thailand, thus caning is completely possible. This contact is exempt from United Nations and all applicable peace treaties. 

So glad you stopped me,
being productive was not really working for me,
 of course I want to hear about your cat. Great talk!

Then again I have just enough room (and time) for love. So I'll just be me - take it as you wish. 

Back to Life, Back to Reality

I love the look of this blog. Its so me. A little bit of everything. I could live in a room like the wallpaper. When I saw it, it was perfect. Full of  vintage things, a pretty mess.

Just Enough Room for Love came to me as we downsized from our 4 bedroom, 3 1/2 bath, 3 level  1800 sq. feet townhouse to a two bedroom apartment. It was small, it was cramped, we got rid of a ton of stuff, (but not my law books and my files because I hang onto those for life, despite the fact they are dated and dusty and in truth I don't really want them but I think I do/should) and we squeezed into three rooms.

At times I thought I was going to suffocate from lack of space. The one thing I couldn't take in NYC was the lack of space. I grew up with my own room, my own space, hell for a good portion of my life I had a room big enough for a seating area and it's own fireplace. There are times no matter who it is, no matter how much I love them. I need them to back---the hell---up, and give me room. Yet, like NYC the one thing about this apartment and its lack of space was that the space that was there was so filled, with love. Like NYC that love along with all the amazing things that were right at the tip of my fingers made it more than ok. It made it perfect. Because you only need Just Enough Room for Love.

What's missing?

I was rushing back and forth from our local Board of Education and my office when my inner wood nymph was called by this amazing field. It was such a perfect setting and picture. It called to me to put down my phone, set aside my rushing, go grab some kids and play. Climb its fence, push on its football dummies, run the baseball diamond. This field was lonely, underused, unappreciated. This field called to me and I wanted to answer but I couldn't and the shame of it is most of the kids in the area wouldn't even know what to do on those fields.

By the time I was 10, the same age of my eldest daughter, I had played soccer, t-ball, softball, volleyball, basketball, ballet and cheer leading. I thought of all the opportunities that had been provided to me. I don't remember my parents ever telling me no. Of course they denied my pony request - although my girl Lisa got one, I remember being like wait your parents actually bought you a horse for Christmas?! But I digress as usual. So just about anything I wanted to dabble in was indulged with the one requirement that I must finish. Except for the one track meet where I fell out in the middle of the field and my dad carried me over the finish line.

Of course guilt over every missed opportunity for my children. They hadn't taken the lessons. How would they survive? What type of deprived lives have I given them? Will they recover? My goodness one look at my Facebook feed and Pintrest Boards and I'm seriously behind the curve. Hell I'm here getting my finger prints for my first field trip and its MAY!!! Its the last one of the year and DJ constantly looks at me like "are you really going to be able to get off" "Are you coming mom?" "Jabari's mom came to the museum AND the aquarium".... My God. I'm missing everything. I'm MISSING it.

So I pick them up from aftercare and we head home and begin the insanity of 2 hours to check homework eat dinner, get in bed and it starts to rain.

I think of the field that I passed. The field that called to my barefoot loving, folk neosoul and I call the kids to look out at the rain. DJ looks up and wants to feel it. So I let him. Then we all follow. I even grab Yezel and she lifts her little hand and we dance. And I realize I'm not missing. I'm right where I need to be.

Just Enough Room for Love. 

A Japanese Bath

I want to go to Japan.

Not just because I love Sushi (even while pregnant, and yes I eat the cooked kind but if I want one piece of Spicy Tuna, that's fine and you should not even blink wrong or be prepared for the wrath that shall be unleashed upon you) Not just because we have a Ninja complex in this family - complete with Samari sword and limited training, Not just because DJ has a weird Japanese accent, courtesy of watching non-stop Naruto in Japanese, Not just because I want to do Geisha training and pour perfect tea. All of that is true but I've love Japan ever since I heard about Japanese bathing rituals when I was a teenager.

All I remember is how they shower first, scrubbing themselves very clean, then they get into the hottest water possible and submerge until completely relaxed. The waterbaby in me can think of no greater pleasure. So why am I sitting here thinking about a Japanese bath? Weeellll because the sullen child in me is taking over and after a crazy weekend with the Governor and September birthday parties and campaign life. I want a Japanese bath.

 And I can't have one. And I'm pissed.

Its ridiculous. I know it. But I had gotten used to having them at the TH. The TH had the most amazing stand alone tub and fabulous shower. Right now I want nothing more than to be able to fill up the tub, add my salts and bubbles and oils and  pretend I am in Japan doing the Japanese bathing ritual with a glass of wine. Now I know here I can still soak but I hate having to shower, wash out the tub then wait for it to fill. I want to be able have my Japanese bath. I want what I can't have and in truth I'm a little bitchy about it.

I know, I know, there's a point to the sacrifice, we are recollecting ourselves, building, making good strong decisions. That's fine and as usual, I will buck up and get it together and move the hell on. But in this moment, in this minute in these few seconds I want to cry and sulk and obsess. I want to have a little conversation with my Father and pout and wait for His Spirit to fall on me and restore me and fill me and to be enough and it will be. Because it is.

Then I will run my good old American bath and be perfectly happy. Until the kids burst in.