Saturday, August 11, 2012

Five Stages of Crazy- a story of selling a house

I was thinking about the gamut of emotions I've run in the course of getting this house on the market and being on the market the last thirty-eight days (not that I am counting or anything).  Today I realized I saw a correlation and had a revelation.  I am mourning this painful, stressful process.  I am right in line with the Elisabeth Kubler-Ross stages of grief.

1) Denial- "We won't be on the market long! This house is a catch and a steal!  This is the best house on the market in this location- at this price point!"

2) Anger- "Why is this taking so long?  Why are people too stupid to see that this is clearly the best deal around here.  Does God not see that it's time for us to move on?"

3) Bargaining- "God, please tell me what I have to do to get this house sold!  Please send the right buyer!  I promise I'll ((fill in the blank)) if you could just throw me a bone here!"

4) Depression- "I can't take it anymore.  I want to give up on everything."  ((cries into breakfast))

5) Acceptance- "There is nothing I can do that I am not already doing to expedite this process.  It is what it is.  God has a plan, right?! ((please say yes))

As I say this, I note that I occasionally go back and forth between various stages.  Please, God, say there's a plan! (bargaining again)

Friday, August 10, 2012

Birdhouse in your Soul- A Friday Flashback

As I enjoy writing and would like to blog more- just for the fun of it, I came up with the idea- "Flashback Friday".  Every Friday, I will post a blog that contains a special memory- recorded for myself or for prosperity.

In 1995, I was in the seventh grade.  Being an only child, and a willful one at that, I felt I was a much older soul than my fourteen years reflected.  At this time, I began to experiment with fashion and fall in love with rock and roll. I was cultivating my own unique sense of self and I am proud of it, when I look back.  I was finding myself, instead of blending in.  I was being creative.   See examples from this era below:

Becky Reed (Recky Bead) and I in seventh grade.  She is wearing my EOI t-shirt; I am wearing Jeremy Hyde's Mellowdramatic Wallflowers t-shirt (that band is a Tulsa insider thing) and rocking the blazing red lips.
Clockwise from bottom: Angelene (Ripley) Wright, Becky (Reed) Davis, me, Christine (Hastings) Adamack, and Corrie (Feyen) Karlovich.  This is the beginning of my wardrobe devoid of any color.  Straight black dress that I wore until it was nothing but a series of tattered threads and baby barrettes in my hair!
Again with the blazing red lips and that shirt is They Might Be Giants with the cover of John Henry on it.  To the left, you can see my photo collage of pictures, bands, music, etc.  This was about 3x5 ft and I had a very nice mom for allowing me to put all that crap on the wall!

This is a pretty typical shot of Christine, Corrie and me on my ugly couch (hey, it was free!).  I am wearing a shirt that I later realized had an extremely subtle vulgar suggestion!  I had NO idea at the time- and apparently the message was so subtle that my mom didn't notice either!  Eek- sorry!

Again, finding myself. Through a friend at the time, I discovered a some what esoteric radio station.  I say that because it was only on the air from 12 a.m. to 6 a.m.  That's right, if you wanted to listen to it, you had to stay up all night!  It was called EOI- which stood for Edge of Insanity.  If you caught it between 6 a.m. and 12 p.m., you'd find a classical music station.  God bless. 92.1 fm.  Why yes, I did stay up all night and sleep all day when I got the chance.  I remember coming home from the seventh grade to sleep right away and waking at 12 to stay up and listen.  As much as I am an extrovert by day, there is an introvert inside of me.  I really treasured the time that was mine and mine alone.  No one bothered me.  The house was quiet.  I could write, scheme, dream- whatever I wanted.  I find that I still desire such time.  It's just harder to come by as I grow older.  This radio station- that turned me into a creature of the night, played indie, new wave, hard rock, oddities- you name it.  I cultivated a unique musical palette in those nights.  The music spoke to my growing pains and soothed me.  I was one of many followers who tuned in regularly and came to love the DJs: Deja and Mother T (her name is Teresa).  We all had call in names.  When I decided to call in a request one night, I lacked a call in name and blurted out "Sam I Am"- because Dr. Suess is a genius, y'all.  (really- I mean it!  I think I appreciate his work more as an adult!)

Anyway, one particular evening, I became aware of a concert I really and truly HAD to attend.  EOI had been publicizing Frank Black (of The Pixies) opening for They Might Be Giants!  Eek!  Every other 14 year old girl I knew was swooning over some ridiculous boy band, but me-- no, I was panting to see a sweaty bald dude (sorry FB) and two nerds playing accordions.  For those who know me well, this all makes sense I am sure.  EOI decided to do a ticket giveaway and I was poised!  You see, back in MY day, before the interwebs, a radio might offer a prize to a caller of a certain number.  Picture me sitting on my couch, in my pajamas, hand on my phone-- which looked like this:
Clearly, you are now jealous of my undeniable awesomeness, right?!  Don't lie.  But I digress, I sat with my hand on the phone- waiting for the announcement to call.  Aaaaannnnnndddd, finally, it was go time.  Busy signal, hang up, try again- ring!  Holy crap- it's ringing! "Guess what?" said the answering voice.  "What?" I said thinking I couldn't possibly win.  "You are the eighth caller!"  OH HOLY GOODNESS!  I WON!  I WON!  I WON!  Please, at this time, remember that this radio station aired 12-6 over night!  So, this good news came at 2 in the morning, when my mom was asleep!  I bounced around the house saying "I won, I won, I won!"  I got my mom's crystal stemmed wine glasses down from the cupboard and proceeded to poor chilled 7Up in one whilst continuing to recite "I won, I won, I won!".  The commotion awoke my mom, who at 2 in the morning, was incredibly groggy.  "Mom, guess what?!  I won!" Mom replies- not having a clue what I may have won, "That's great, honey, now go to bed". 

The next morning was a different story.  You see, mom remembered waking up and talking to me, but NOTHING else.  I proceeded to explain that I won tickets to see Frank Black and They Might Be Giants at the Cain's Ballroom and I was soooooo excited.  Then- BOOM, reality: "You're only 14 years old Lindsay!  There's no way I'm letting you see a show at the Cain's!"  This turned in to probably a week's worth of back and forth- teenager clinging to any sense of independence vs. mother trying to protect child.  In the end, mom decided I could go as long as I took a trustworthy friend with me, Corrie.   While every other girl my age has a concert story about being dragged to something their parents' liked or seeing the New Kids on the Block (nothing wrong with that at all), I was watching a Frank Black and Pixies at the Cain's Ballroom.  This is a favorite memory and the story of how a girl fell in love with the Cain's Ballroom.  I think I'd move into it, if they'd let me.



Post Script- In November 2011, I got a chance to see Frank Black again- this time, reunited with The Pixies.  I was super giddy, trying to explain it at work to people who were responded, "so is tonight when your going to see that band- the Fairies?"  Me: "you mean The Pixies?"  Yeah.  Luckily, my dear bff, Jill, was able to come with me.  As we listened to the music, it just felt like I was going home.  It sounded like home to me.

The Pixies- Nov. 2011 (Frank Black is the second from the left)
Jill and me- friends for 16 years!

Monday, August 6, 2012

Perspective: check.

It's pretty easy to fall prey to thinking about your own concerns in life.  I don't want to diminish the stress factor and challenges I have.  It's not that they are unimportant.  It's that they are factors which can be address by my mother's coin phrase (which I believe was her father's coin phrase), "and this too shall pass".  Do you know how much I hated hearing that from her when I was an angst filled teenager?

In a turn of events, the last few days have been turbulent for many.

Again, wildfires plagued the parched countrysides in Oklahoma.  This is something that stirs much emotion for me.  The first time I was evacuated was when my baby was just eleven days old.  I had never been under the threat or duress of such a natural fury before and it was combined with postpartum hormones and a body gone crazy, with a brand new high-maintenance, beautiful baby girl.  I remember sitting at my in laws' house, completely convinced that my house was gone.  I felt numb.  I couldn't even place my feelings.  I just sat, fixated on the television images of fire- wondering.  Somehow, my entire neighborhood was spared while every direction around it was scorched.  It was as though God had created a protective force field for my little girl. I still have no idea how it happened, but should one question such an undeniable blessing?  I choose to not question.  This was not the last time I have been evacuated.  Several instances occurred afterward.   Two years later, I was at work (at Harrah High School), when I started hearing mutterings of wildfires again.  Just a couple of hours later, the forum of the school appeared hazy and smelled of thick smoke.  I stood in the library watching the coverage, realizing it was merely a mile away.  Kids were checked out from school until hardly a soul remained.  When I was finally able to leave, I was rerouted by the police.  I had to take Harrah Road all the way to SE 15th, which is the opposite of the direction I'd normally take to get to my house.  As I drove up SE 15th, I passed my in laws' house- not realizing it would be the last time I saw it standing.  A fire blazed far to the south of it.  I did not (probably denial?) think the blaze would reach my in laws' house, but I stopped to call my mother in law anyway and continued to my house.  My mother and daughter were at my house when I received a panicked call from my mother in law- telling me she got a few things and the dog out of her house and that her house was burning to the ground.  I think I was still in denial.  I thought, surely she's shaken and the firefighters can save it.  Often, you believe what you want to believe in these cases.  That I did.  However, she was right.  Her home of twenty-eight years smoldered to a pile of ash and lumps of nearly unrecognizable, melted metal that used to be appliances.  The fire was so hot (approx. 2000 degrees according to the fire department) that the refrigerator collapsed and fell into an arch shape and the concrete of the driveway exploded.  Unfathomable.  Many times, I have kicked myself.  I drove right by it.  I knew how to get inside.  I knew where many favor items or heirlooms lurked.  If only I could have saved some things.  However, I am well aware I had no way of knowing what would happen and it was probably best that I drove away before the fire drew near. I'd be lying if I said the number of times I've made it through evacuation or threat of evacuation were not part of discussion about moving into a more metropolitan area.  Flash forward to this week.  The town of Luther is consumed by ravaging fire.  Luther is not that far from me.  It's maybe twenty miles. I know some people who live there.  Additionally, fires blazed in Creek County (Around Mannford, OK- west of the Tulsa metro).  I was on pins and needles- waiting to hear about my friend Misty Tharp's house.  By miracle and by faith, it was spared.  My dear friend, Tammy Devine, is from Mannford.  Sadly, members of her family lost their homes.  Above all, it is a blessing that they were not hurt of injured.

I am also empathetic to my sorority sister, Janna Graham, who lost her father to cancer this week.  Though the relationship was strained, I have also lost my father.  My mother, thank the Lord, is a breast cancer survivor.  It's hard to so many levels.  Janna will handle it all with grace, like she always does.  God bless her family.

While sitting in church on Sunday, I was filled with urgency and prayer for Misty, for Janna, for Tammy and many others.  At this point, I realized how little time I can waste worrying about my station- about the house selling (though I still hope it will happen soon), about expenses, about making a transition, etc.  God will show you what matters.  In that moment- this horrible propensity to want to control or feel like I am in control faded away.  I struggle each day to let go and let God.  In that moment, I felt I truly did. Each new day, I must learn how to give up control for the day.  I am so grateful that I was able to do so in that moment.  God is going to take care of my transition.  And that is my perspective: check.







Saturday, August 4, 2012

And now is the time on Sprockets when we dance!

In other words, I am delirious!

I am elated to have this amazing job.  My bosses seem fabulous and the staff seems friendly and enthusiastic.  I am so excited.

I am also overjoyed to be returning home.  The sights, the sounds, the comfort of being home.  i never feel better than when I am in Tulsa.  The second I see the downtown skyline, I can breathe.  It's wonderful.  I cannot wait for our family to enjoy the opportunities and conveniences of city living.  I am a city girl.  Michael is just excited about living within walking distance (that's right, walking distance- or biking distance) of two movie theaters and a Barnes and Noble.

We are so ready for this chapter of our lives to begin. 

Here's the catch.  WE HAVE TO SELL THIS HOUSE!  It's been on the market a month.  Yes, I know that's pretty standard, but I am steadfast praying for the right buyer to come along as soon as possible.  The media is fully ready to inform its general audience that it is a buyers market.  Why, yes, yes indeed, that will help us on the flip side.  Meanwhile, it is not boding well for us selling this house.  We've had one offer.  They took $6k off our rock bottom price, then asked for $4k for their closing.  FYI- we don't have $10k to give away to make this happen. The counter was only $2k more and we had to walk away.  It's painful to have an offer dangled in front of your face, only to have it disintegrate in front of our faces.

This is fully stressful.  I want to cry, I want to scream, I want to explode.  However, what I really want is to be done with this.  MWC, release me.  It's time to move on.  I am struggling to stay positive.  I keep reading blogs from sorority sister, Jesi Conder, and dear college friend, Mindy Russell, to remember that I am not alone.  Thank you, ladies, for sharing your stories with me.  It really helps. 

Everyday, I get down on my knees and pray.  I feel like I am begging God, which feels a little stupid.  Then, I feel selfish.  I feel like I am cognitively aware, without diminishing my concerns for my life, that others are struggling with life and death situations, despair, poverty, etc.  Last night, half the town of Luther was plagued by the fury of an arsonist.  Yes, there are more concerns to pray about and remember than just the ones in my life.  Today, I packed up Claire and drove to the store to buy a few cases of water for the firefighters (Claire kept calling them 'fireflies') and delivered them to the nearest fire station.  I can't just dwell on what is hard for me.  I need to keep moving.  I need to keep trying.  I need to be the best me I can be under stressful circumstances.  Today, I think I will relieve stress by painting cute canvases for my new office.  Did I mention I am temporarily carless and sharing a ride with my husband?  Because I am.  Any fun I can make inside (away from the 350 degree heat), without leaving my house (because I am sharing a car), and cheap (materials I already have in my house) is key to keep from losing my mind.  I'm a stay busy sort of girl.

PS- I learned quickly that pity parties were not permitted.  You see, I was busy having one on the way back to my house from my new job.  I was lamenting that I do not live there yet, that I do not know what I am doing or how I am going to do this- when the car in front of me slowed to pull off the road.  They did not move over fast enough, so I applied my brake- looking to get over, but couldn't.  The driver behind me couldn't slow down on time and clipped me.  Yeah, if you throw a pity party, you get something to be sad about...  Message received.  Must trust God.  The other driver and I were completely unharmed.  I felt so bad for her; really, she is only 23 and was worried about her dad being mad at her.  I kept hugging her and telling her it was okay.  She probably thought I was nuts.  I was more worried about her than I was about me.

And that, in a nutshell, is how the cookie is crumbling right now.  And this is the time on Sprockets when we dance.