Mistakes

This week was a week of making a lot of mistakes, and hopefully learning from them. Mistakes can come in many different ways, from forgetting to sign a form that will impact someone's pay to hurting a friend to drinking too much juice in too short a period of time. Each mistake has its consequence. 

It is said that "time heals all wound". Perhaps this is true. For the mistakes I made this week I hope that not too much time will pass for each of the wounds to heal. For each of the mistakes I made this week, I am able to look back and say "I should have known better; I could have prevented this outcome" and that is true. What is also true is that I have my blind spots, I am human, and I am not perfect. I hope that those people that I impact will forgive me, an I'm working to forgive myself. I also hope that I am able to remember the things I learned this week. 

giggly, goofy, giddy friends

I've had a goofy 24 hours, all thanks to my friends John and Jess. Miss Jessica came over yesterday evening and again today, and John, Jess, and I had a giddy, giggly, goofy time filling out surveys and reading personality reports about ourselves.

I got to learn all about what the computer thinks of my 'agreeableness', 'openness', 'emotional stability', 'conscientiousness', and 'extraversion'. Surprisingly, a lot of it feels on target. Some of it doesn't sound like me, but, well, it is a computer program telling me about me.

I feel the need to record some funny things that were said so I can remember them later and laugh and laugh again.

What three things am I most thankful for?
Yummy food, good friends, and warm socks.

And what am I most passionate about?
Cheese, cooking, and scifi.

I did some hardcore knitting today...this scarf is coming along nicely. I am learning that complicated patterns take a long, long time. This scarf I'm making is reversible (same pattern appears on both sides of the scarf, and has 5 cables (fat cable, skinny cable, fat cable, skinny cable, fat cable). Very complex, but oh, so lovely. I hope Lu will like it :)

angry rant

I am angry and I am sad. If you don't want to read an angry rant, just move on.

This morning I got a call from some people who saw the ad for my house to rent, and are interested in renting. When I spoke with the guy, he said it would be three men renting the house. We scheduled a time for later in the day to meet there so they could see it. I already had another family coming later in the day, so it felt good to get so much interest all at once. 

After I got off the phone, I started thinking. I thought about my house, how it is in a rural community where the houses aren't close together. I thought about how my body is perceived as small and weak, and that makes me vulnerable. I was thinking about what I should wear--baggy jeans and my baggy, thick hand-me-up sweatshirt were on the list. I thought about calling my neighbors to let them know I'd be at the house. How I was already planning out which pocket I'll have my whistle in, and which pocket my phone will be in. That I hadn't thought about any of this when I was going up to meet a family (husband, wife, and two young girls) popped into my mind. I thought that if I was a man, I wouldn't have to think about any of this, and I am angry. 

I am angry that I do have to think about these things. I am angry that I have friends that have been sexually assaulted. I am angry that I have to put on my extra-tough masks when I'm going to meet 3 men that I don't know. 

I am angry that my physical appearance puts me at risk. The fact is, I am strong, and a lot stronger than many people would guess. I am physically stronger than many women I know. I lived on a farm for a bunch of years, and now I go to the gym to maintain the strength that I hadn't even realized I gained. And even so, I am still a small woman, and so I am vulnerable. 

I am angry that in order to feel less vulnerable, I put on baggy clothes to hide my curves, I build up myself image and show off by talking about carrying hay bales and other physical feats. I keep everyone at a distance. 

I am angry that I get ignored and I don't get respect because of my small, female body. There is an angry, strong, beautiful, smart woman in this body who doesn't like being ignored. An angry woman who is fed up with all misogyny. 

Feminism ain't about equality; it's about reprieve. 

abundance and claustrophobia

I've been bouncing back and forth lately between abundance and claustrophobia. Having a lot of something can be wonderful, but if it crosses over into too much, I get all claustrophobic and tight. I think this is caused by feeling like I don't have enough time. I have lists of things that I want to do and need to do, and not enough time to do those things.

This weekend I had a list of people I wanted to call (friends and family), and I did talk to my parents, but that was it. No calls to my sibs or grandparents, not to my Paulie, Fern & Jeff, Jess, Brooks & Lisa or Jess or my EmilyG. I had a 15+ hour workday on Sunday...traveled up to Shambhala Mountain Center. It was nice to see students and staff. It was nice to have some space to talk to those people who matter to me, but I didn't get to talk to the people who matter most.

I had a mini-pretravel freakout on Sunday morning...frantically cleaning the kitchen, taking out half-full trash, running to the grocery to buy too many beverages and snacks for the road (a kombucha and a smoothie and a water bottle and two granola bars and wasabi peas?!), stopping at my office to grab office supplies, and all that before 9am on Sunday.

The line between abundance and claustrophobia is one I walk a lot. Having a lot to do, having too much to do and getting stuck because there are too many things and not enough time. Feeling paralyzed when there is too much. I've since gotten unstuck, but that stuck, claustrophobic feeling is so difficult.

A new old name

Hello, my name is Jennie Hyatt.

I learned this week that I am divorced. This is not a time of celebration, but a continuing in the process of mourning the end of my marriage. I love Michael. He is and was my friend. There were many aspects of our relationship that I appreciate. He is a kind and generous man, and he did his best to be a good husband and partner. I am very sad.

My name has legally returned to my maiden name, and it is strange. I haven't been Jennie Hyatt for seven and half years. I was Jennie Hyatt from the time I was born until I was 23. I remember who Jennie Hyatt was. I know who Jennie Sanchez was. I'm not sure who Jennie Hyatt now is.

Names are such strangely, important things. All this ego and identity attachment around a few syllables.

Jennie Hyatt is a woman who is divorced. Jennie Hyatt is a woman who remembers being asked if she was related to the hotel. She wasn't and she isn't, by the way. Jennie Hyatt is a woman who knits, slowly. Jennie Hyatt is a woman who loves cooking for herself, and really loves cooking for others. Jennie Hyatt loves listening to Ani DiFranco. Jennie Hyatt is a woman who doesn't have a plan for the future. She used to be a girl with big plans and a lot of ambition.

Jennie Hyatt is a woman who needs to practice saying her own name because she isn't used to it.

Jennie Hyatt is...me.