SquidRoad

It's a good day

...when you can't remember what day it is. Which means today has been a good day. Tomorrow we return home from our ever-so-brief vacation at Outer Banks in North Carolina. It's been a series of come-and-gos since the weekend, but we've had the best time with family and friends. Not to mention we ate our weight in great dinners. Even the weather cooperated, for a little while anyway. Tomorrow night, we get home late, in time for a very full end of week. If you've ever taken time off and returned midweek to work, you know this is a bad idea. Everyone else is "warmed up" while your brain is still in a pleasant (read: ignorance is bliss) state of mush. I hope we at least slept more away than at home, but that's up for debate. In any case, I can't wait to return to the coast. If you haven't recently been near a large body of water, I highly recommend it.

Estate planning...kind of

My mom cracks me up.

She just visited me for my 44th birthday, traveling cross-country even against her own natural desire. She did it for me.

We made a few outings over last five days..some eating out, some making big meals and eating in, a good bit of shopping and overall lots of conversation. Largely about food, if I recall correctly.

But the funniest thing she did (this time) was some on-the-spot estate planning...at an estate sale. We passed a table filled with fancy teacups and saucers, and the ideas started to flow like a river. "Wow, look how much I can get for the ones I have!" and "I have some nicer ones than those...we can make a little money!"

Nearly knocked me over, I was laughing so hard. I mean, in the end, she won't care, right?

One of the things I love most about my mom is how open she is in talking about the things of life--love, loss, highlights, successes, failures...you name it. No topic is taboo with her. Guess that's why her grandkids love and consult her so much. In fact, it's something most people love about my mom.

Personally, I'm more inclined to let someone else figure out what to do with those fancy teacups. I'm not however, opposed to having a tea party with them before they're gone.

Does thinking make your head hurt?

A few years ago, I had one of those Aha! moments.

This one was a sinker: I realized I hadn't done any real, deep thinking in awhile. The kind that hurts. That kind that makes you struggle deep down inside, argue in your own head...so, naturally, it gives you a headache.

Now...it seems deep thinking is all I do. It's good--great, even. Just a little exhausting. Lots of headaches.

In terms of the online space, I've been trying for sometime to figure out what I really want to talk about as a blogger, or where I can make a contribution that's meaningful. My work is nonprofit. I work for an international org...spent years on the international side, in fact. I'm a marketing communications girl with a whole lot of interests.

While attending the NTEN Nonprofit Technology Conference several months ago in Atlanta, I was telling some friends how, when I used to travel extensively, I felt safer traveling nearly anywhere else abroad than here in the US. Got a very puzzled look and a load of disbelief.

It's true, for the most part. I mean, there are definitely cities where you feel stalked if you don't look like everyone else, but honestly, that happened maybe 1% of the time. And closer to home than you think.

But I digress....kind of.

There are two main things I've learned in my work:

1. The human race -- we're all the same. We want the same things--to belong, to be loved, to make life better for our kids than we had it. Everywhere, it is the same.
2. International work is hard. It is supremely rewarding, just incredibly complex.

So I've decided to attempt to write, at least some, about working across cultural lines. Not that there aren't people much more expert than I...believe me, there are many. But I can speak to my own experience struggling with the same things any international NGO works through--making a real difference in the lives of others...and making that difference mean something to the person who supports the cause.

On the nonprofit side, this is where I'll start. Wish me luck.

If I get anywhere near my target, it'll feel like a homerun.

Skeletons in the closet? Make 'em dance

I've lost an ancestor.

Somewhere in the rubble, my great-grandfather Braulio up and disappeared. Aaaaackkk! Actually, he disappeared a long time ago. (Right, Nydia, that's what happens when people die. Glad you're coming to terms with it.)

Back when I was doing everything I could do to finish school, I took electives to make classes a little more entertaining. (My father died prior to my junior year in college, so finishing school was a long and winding road...see my LinkedIn profile. I really should be a lot smarter than I am!)

One such class was a history elective: Chicano History up till Civil Rights. My term paper required me to research as deeply as possible my family history. Let's see...on one side, I have Cabello. On the other, Garcia. That was easy: Cabello it is!

So I went back through my father's lineage, and after about a year successfully linked the youngest living generation of Cabellos with the six generations before it.

Long story short: I'm at it again, and man, this stuff SUCKS. YOU. IN.

Here's why: Learning about yourself by studying where you came from is really humbling. It brings all the pieces of your life together. And suddenly, things start to make sense.

Now, the pieces may not all be pretty, so be prepared. There's a saying in genealogy: "If your family has skeletons in the closet, you might as well make them dance."

And it is addicting. Don't say you haven't been warned. Still, it's worth it. If you're near middle age like me, stuff like this will really matter to you. Or if you feel disconnected from your culture and heritage, family history research is a great way to get grounded in your identity.

Got questions? Let me know. I'll do my best to get you started. I'm no pro, but I do love my family, skeletons and all. :)

(For the record, if you look closely at this image, you'll see the name "Braulio." Yeah, he's the wrong one. The hunt continues...)

I love the letter "J"

Jesus.
Jehovah.
Janitors.
Co-workers.
Teammates.
List makers.
Get-it-done types.

I love Js. Where would the world be without them?

Today I'm especially thankful, because here I am w/my eyelids dropping on this post like there's no tomorrow. I can hardly type, even, because I'm so near REM w/my eyes wide open.

And still, my hubby and his friend Chris are working. I just wanted to do a little reading/studying before I went to bed, but they're still at it...and it's nearly 12:30am!

We thought we'd be farther along by the time Chris arrived Thursday AM, but alas, life got the best of us, and we're more thankful than ever that he is here now. Thing is, he's a finisher. Mikey and I--we're mostly starters. Mike is a much better finisher than but Chris, well, he's better than both of us put together! He doesn't stop till he can't go anymore. Us...we stop when we're tired.

Maybe Chris doesn't need sleep. Maybe he's superhuman! Tomorrow, I will check.

Tired and cranky

After a 4-day week when it seems an entire 7 were crammed in, I'm pretty pooped today.

And now I'm in an airport terminal with screaming children everywhere. Can't blame them though. If it were within adult decorum to scream right now, I'd probably do it too. Our flight keeps getting delayed, and it's grating on the natives. I'd post a photo but I'm afraid someone in security would nail me.

Lots of military troops leaving for the field today, too. It was actually quite difficult watching their kids and wives wave very tearful goodbyes as troops stripped down for security checks (along w/all the rest of us, of course. It was one happy nudist party.)

I need to get it together before getting into town to take care of my mom. I'm not well rested, and I'll still need to drive from Indy to South Bend this evening. Hopefully there'll be no further delays and the back end of the trip will stay on schedule.

Ok, I'm done whining. For now anyway.

Flat Stanley: In town for a limited time only

A friend of ours has a son, Colt, whose class in school is trying to send this little paper figure off to interesting places. Since they knew I travel a lot as part of my work, they sent one to me.

Meet Flat Stanley.

Part of Flat's mission is to go to as many interesting places as possible.

I am a deadbeat friend--I've only remembered so far to take him out for sushi on Friday. I think Flat's as excited about my new favorite, the White Tiger Roll, as I am!

He was supposed to come along as a cheerleader to my match today, but someone (I won't mention any names, Mikey) forgot to fold him up and pack him in. His loss--Flat missed a hot match.

So off to work he will go w/me tomorrow. Maybe I'll have him run a meeting or something. Yeah...

Do we smell bad?

Don't answer that.

Maybe there's something about our little neighborhood that we don't know, because we've had exactly three--count them, THREE--trick-or-treaters this Happy Halloween.

So few, in fact, I can rattle off a description of each:

1. Small child w/Grandma (our neighbors from across the street, I think)
2. Mr. Fantastic (although I doubt the kid looked like this)
3. A bunch of "older" trick-or-treaters (at least I hope so, because they had cigarettes hanging out of their mouths)

I guess we just don't have many kiddos around here. That's too bad, because one of MacGyver's favorite things to do is pass out the treats.

UPDATE: Another bunch just showed up. There's finally a little Halloween action. Whoop!

Dad: 20 years on

It's hard to believe that 20 years ago yesterday, my father died. On the one hand it feels like just yesterday. On the other hand--the part I hate most--I often have to look at photos of my father to remember what he looked like.

Don't know if that's why I feel down this week, or if I'm just not ready for a work trip tomorrow. But when I think of my mom and how much has happened in her life since Dad's been gone, I am so proud of her. She's about to have surgery on her knee while I'm away, and she's such a trooper. That's probably what Dad adored in her.

Here, she's shown last year when we visited my dad's grave in Corpus Christi, TX. Memories are sweet, but on big anniversaries, for some reason a touch of melancholy enters in, too.

In any case, I couldn't be more proud of the legacy Dad left--he was so strong in character, faith and leading by example. I pray that someone one day says of me that I was my father's daughter.

Messin' with my head

Dang it, I hate it when God does this.

Last week was loaded with all kinds of introspection. And, well, it kinda hurts... in a good way, I guess. I haven't finished my brain dump yet from the Willow Creek Association's Leadership Summit. I attended last year too, but this year's sessions hit me very differently.

From vision to leadership to doing something about the inequities of the world, this summit was just plain deep. Heavy, even.

Don't get me wrong--I loved this thing. I'm thoroughly impressed with the faculty they selected this year, too: President Jimmy Carter, Colin Powell, Carly Fiorina, movie producer Richard Curtis, Marcus Buckingham, John Ortberg and others.

Just have to parse it all out now. Lots to think about.