If it was ever possible for a bookcase to have a sense of humor...

My mom just reminded me of something hilarious that happened a few weeks ago. I kept meaning to post about it, but forgot.

So, I've been doing some serious decluttering around my house. I've spent the past few months getting rid of anything I don't absolutely love.....clothes, furniture, extra chicken coops, worn out sofas, etc. Partly because it just needs to be done and partly to get a little extra cash flow. Anyhow, when we moved into this house, there was a pretty antique barrister bookcase that the previous owners left for us. After selling a bunch of books I know I'll never open again to the used bookstore, I found that I had consolidated my books into the three bookcases I love more than that one. I put it on Craigslist and a woman responded right away. She sent me a seriously low-ball offer and some story about how her son really needed it for his school books and that her offer was all they could afford. I agreed. She showed up in a super-fancy and ridiculously large SUV, wearing very nice clothes. All she could afford? Whatever, that is beside the point.

Anyhow, she walked up on the porch to see the bookcase. Just then Lady (a 15-20 lb puppy) pushed the door open and came running out of the house. The woman was clearly afraid of dogs and immediately said she would pass on the bookcase and started walking back to her car. Lady started playfully running along side her. I began yelling, "Lady, Lady, get back here! Come here Lady!" The woman took off in a full sprint to her car and drove away so fast she left a big cloud of dust in the driveway. I was so confused and a little hurt. I had rearranged my schedule so this woman could come and pick up this nice antique bookcase for 1/10th of what it was worth. What had gone wrong? A day later it hit me. She had no idea my dog's name was Lady. No wonder she was terrified. Haha. When I told my mom this story, we both laughed so hard we couldn't breathe.

I ended up selling the bookcase for my asking price to a man in Franklin, so I'm kind of glad Lady foiled the first sale. The man who bought it called a few minutes after he bought it to apologize to me, because he noticed the zipper on his pants had been unzipped while we were talking. (I hadn't noticed.) That bookcase had some awkward encounter curse. Or something. (Pictured above.)

Sometimes life is just plain funny.

(photo of me on 9.21.11 by Mark Tucker)

To say the week of my birthday was wonderful and inspiring would be a very true statement. To say the week of my birthday was one of the hardest weeks of my life would also be a very true statement. I think something shifted...not with the numbers 3 and 0 necessarily, but in the whole process of my relationship (or lack thereof). I think my birthday felt a lot like the anniversary last month....except I expected the anniversary to sting more than it did. The anticipation of the anniversary was what made me sad. The actual anniversary was surprisingly bearable. I didn't necessarily expect anything or anticipate any emotion for my birthday, so I felt a bit blindsided when it happened. In my defense, there was some new and very hurtful information that came to my attention in a very unexpected way. I think my difficulty this week was partly processing what that meant, and partly just a sinking in or a realization of what has actually happened this year. Day-to-day, I can be so zoomed in on life and present that I almost don't even notice, but when I zoom out to look at the timeline of this past year and see the past six months as a whole entity, I almost want to puke.

I've promised to be honest and truthful. Last week I felt so loved and celebrated and cared for....and I also felt very very sad....like I-don't-want-to-get-out-of-bed sad. That's just not the normal me. I guess I say all of this, because this process has to be human and transparent. I get emails and comments from people who read the blog all the time. Some are so sorry for me, as if this whole process has been awful. It hasn't and that pity makes me uncomfortable. It has been such an inspiring and hopeful transformation in a lot of ways, and I really want that to come across. Then I get emails and comments from people saying they are so inspired by how strong and positive I have been. I definitely think I'm able to pull the positive to the forefront the majority of the time, but I also have some not-so-inspiring moments of anger and sadness. I guess I just want to be really clear that it is both, and I'm okay with that. If it were either of the extremes, I'd probably be very concerned about myself. This process shouldn't be all happy. It also shouldn't be all devastation. I think I felt like I couldn't post on here last week, because I set unrealistic expectations of myself and it took me a while to sort those out. I felt like I was supposed to be all glowing and empowered and thirty. I felt like I would be disappointing if I admitted, "I really feel like crawling into bed for a week. I just feel lonely and sad."

Anyhow, it was suggested to me a few nights ago to document the twelve weeks after thirty for this blog as a compromise...to still keep it a temporary project, but also not end it so abruptly...to give the perspective of three months on each side. I kind of like that idea. For now, I'm still trying to catch up on the birthday updates, since I fell behind last week. Heading over to my friend Alan's house for lunch and to see more photos he took at the party last Friday.