Messed up Friendships

What does it mean when (all of) your friends at one point or another stop talking to you?

Granted being in the military and now as a military spouse, we move a lot so that makes it hard to meet people and keep up friendships. I get that. But somehow it seems as if I must not be a very good friend if people keep dropping me.

When we were at Scott AFB, I made a few friends in the Spouse's Group. Now, I'm rarely, if ever, in contact with any of them. When I am in contact, it's just through a Facebook note or something small like that.

The same goes for friends I made at the Pentagon. I'm "friends" with most of the other Interns on Facebook but even when one or two of them are at the same base as I am, I don't see or speak to any of them. Some of that has to do with my weight and how I feel about myself. Most of it just seems to be that no one feels the need to get together with me. Not feeling sorry for myself here, just wondering why that is?

Now, my best friend (we've known each other since 1997 and have been friends since 1998 or so...) is not speaking to me. She says she's "not 'not talking'" to me. But the last communication I got from her was over two weeks ago. I finally called her and left a message yesterday and she texted me today saying that we're "not not talking" but that she still "needs space" and isn't ready to talk to me yet. It's a long story of why she's not speaking to me but from my point of view it was all a misunderstanding. I'm guessing by her needing so much time & space that there's probably more to it, but if she won't talk to me then I have no idea what she's mad or upset about so I can't make it better or fix it.

The only other person who has ever told me not to call them is my older sister (a whole different convoluted story). I never in a million years would have guessed that my best friend would treat me in the same manner. Nor would I ever have guessed that I'd put the two of them in the same category as to how their actions/words make me feel. Which makes me wonder (as my husband has pointed out) has this friendship reached its end?

So what is it about me that seems to drive people away after a year or two (or eventually...)? What is it that keeps ending these friendships? I know its normal for people to grow apart but it seems as if I'm turning into a serial grow-aparter...

I'm sad and mad at the same time...leaving me not knowing what to do (other than not calling her since she "needs space") or how to deal with my feelings...bottom line, not real happy right now.

Apple Picking

On Monday, we took a road trip to visit a friend who was passing through the area. We had some time before she arrived to go apple picking at an orchard. Bubba had a good time - the first one he picked went right into his mouth

The few times I went apple picking last year, it was only Bubba and I. This time my husband was able to get the day off so he could go with us. I was happy that both my boys were there with me. We had such a beautiful day for it. Clear blue sky, slight breeze, beautiful area...all of it made for a great road trip and family outing. In case you missed them, there are two more pictures from the trip on my Wordless Wednesday post which you can find here.

One of my favorite things to make with apples is a really easy apple crisp. We have enough apples to make some other things too...do you have any recommendations for what I should try?

Abbey Ruins

As you may recall, in the post about my recent birthday (read it here) I discussed how one of my David Winter Cottages broke during the earthquake. As a wonderful surprise, one of my friends found a new one for me. He's actually the one who started my collection. I'd liked David Winter cottages for quite a while since my step-mother was a collector (mostly the castles). My friend gave me my first two cottages (I bought a third from him) and now he has given me another one. That means he is directly responsible for over half of my collection! Pretty good way to remember a friendship...

As you can see by the picture, the new one seems to be in better shape than my old one. You can definitely tell when comparing the two side by side that these cottages are hand painted and no two are exactly alike. The colors in my new "Abbey Ruins" are much brighter and well, more colorful. 

Thank you, trebord, for the wonderful gift!

New Place, New People

We moved about three months ago and so far the only new people I've met and talk to with any regularity are my neighbor and the women at Bubba's daycare. As nice as they are, I don't think we're exactly friends...

Tomorrow is the "Welcome Social" for the local Officer's Spouse's Club. I'm actually looking forward to going and seeing what they have to offer and meeting new people. Judging by their website, they seem like they have lots of interesting things going on: books clubs, a "Tea Time" group that goes to different "Tea" places around the area, a mom's group for play dates and mom's night out events, a crafting group, and a group that just gets together to explore the area. I hope to get a lot of information and see what kind of plan I can come up with to get involved and still have lots of time with Bubba. I already had to promise my husband that I would not volunteer for anything and especially not to be on the board. Easy promise to make...I had enough of being on the Board and dealing with opinionated women at our last base.

Tomorrow's event is supposed to be stroller friendly, so hopefully Bubba will do OK and not get bored too quickly. I figure if I have milk and crackers, he should be good to go. Plus, he loves to see new things and watch people so it should be fun for him too.

I plan on doing some recon today so I can find the Officer's Club more easily tomorrow...I'll let you know how it goes.

Birthdays

At this point in my life, it feels a little silly to get excited about birthdays. Every year, I tell myself it's really just another day, nothing special. Then, the day comes and I'm disappointed that it's just another day, nothing special.

It's been forever since I had a birthday party - sophomore year at the Academy is the last one I really remember. My friend Carrie tried to have a party thing for me once when we were Lts...no one showed up except Carrie, her husband and a sort of friend. That kind of turned me off having parties - the fear of no one showing up is a great motivator. Not really the right word, since it motivates me not to have a party but somehow seems to fit...

I opened a box this morning thinking it might be a birthday present (it arrived yesterday after all) and instead it was magazines and books. Stuff I want to read/look at but not really what you want to receive on your birthday. Then, I opened a card thinking it was going to be a birthday card and it was probably the saddest, most depressing card I've gotten in a while, if ever. The fact that it said "Happy Birthday" doesn't really change that it wasn't a birthday card and the content was not happy nor birthday related.

Luckily, I woke up this morning with my wonderful husband and amazing little Bubba - and all is well with the world. Bubba was in a  great mood and we found a couple good Elmo songs to watch on You Tube as Daddy was showering. Then we all had a nice breakfast together before my husband left for work.

Yesterday, Bubba and I were taking a nap when I was rudely awakened by an EARTHQUAKE. My first one. I was a bit shaken up :) but otherwise OK. Bubba pretty much slept through the whole thing - he woke up briefly when I picked him up to take him downstairs but then went right back to sleep.

A few things fell off counters but the only real casualty was a David Winter cottage. Unfortunately, it was one of my favorites. Abby Ruins - I got it when I was TDY to England about 12 years ago. It got smashed pretty good - no hope of fixing it. Gouged the antique hutch as it fell too...It could have been much worse though. I'm sorry it was something that had special meaning for me but I'm glad it wasn't something I really cared about or that couldn't be replaced. 

Now, I'm off to check Facebook and respond to random birthday wishes. 

Mental Snapshots

Recently, a name from my past cropped up in a conversation. She was a friend of mine while I was at the Academy and for a few years after. Then something happened, I still don't know/remember what it was, and she stopped talking to me. We got back in touch through e-mail a year or so ago but then she deployed to Afghanistan and I never heard from her again. I'm not sure if she's still there or back home or what...I feel as if I can't really go looking for her again because she seems to have made her choice pretty clear.

Anyway, thinking of her made me think of the four or five rolls of film she offered to get developed for me (she had a place to do it real cheap and then she could get doubles made for both of us to have prints) that I never got back. I know what's on at least one of those rolls - pictures from the day of and week leading up to the USAFA class of 1994 graduation. Since I started out with that class, and their graduation day was the day I re-entered USAFA, there are a lot of pictures on the roll of people/events I cared about. So instead of having lots of pictures to record the year I spent in Colorado Springs, I have about five. I've asked this friend in the past if she ever found the pictures and that I would like to see them. She always said she didn't know where they were since she's moved so much. At least I have the mental snapshots...

I have a horrible memory. That's why I like taking pictures and now scrapbooking. It helps me to remember people and events. Yet there are times where for one reason or another I don't have pictures to help me remember. For example: it's been almost 15 years since my USAFA graduation and I've never even seen, let alone gotten my hands on, the video my father took...On several deployments while in the AF, I didn't want to look like a geek (or too girly) by taking pictures, so I didn't pull the camera out...on a trip to Poland, I dropped and broke my camera - I didn't get a new one for most of my assignment in Germany...most recently, while at the beach with my husband and Bubba - I wanted a picture of our three footprints side by side in the sand but had forgotten my camera up at the house...

Despite my bad memory, I've got some mental snapshots from these time periods and these events. I cherish those mental images even more than the pictures I can put my hands on. Mostly because those few images are all I have from those moments. Do I wish I had something more concrete? Yeah. But since I don't, I'll treasure what I can remember. I just wish my mental snapshots weren't so few and far between...

Duct Tape, Quilting and Oprah

I've been working on a quilt for my best friend for a couple years now. One of my friends has been helping me to finish that and a couple other quilting projects before we move. So, needless to say, I'm in a bit of a time crunch.

The couple quilts I've done before I've used blue painter's tape to tape it to the floor in order to do the basting (pinning the layers together before quilting). In this case, I couldn't find the painter's tape and the duct tape happened to be handy. I had already used duct tape once before on a smaller project and it worked fine...besides when something needs sticking, use duct tape, right?

Unfortunately, I didn't take into account that I was using a much lighter batting and had used much larger pieces of duct tape. Holy Cow was the duct tape a mistake. As my friend pointed out, it's true there are many uses for duct tape - in the garage...

I'm hoping since the friend I am making the quilt for was also a maintenance office in the USAF, she will find it both funny and appropriate that I tried to make a quilt using duct tape.

On the deeper end, thinking about the duct tape and quilting made me think about the two different sides of me: the over-achieving, fast-track USAF maintenance officer and the stay-at-home mom quilting, crafting and baking cookies for the husband's office...using the duct tape just seemed to be an interesting combination of the two. The fact that it didn't quite work is something else to ponder...

I have always loved crafts but felt like it didn't really fit into my life while I was on Active Duty. Baking for the "office" would set me apart from the guys and not in a good way. So, I just didn't do any baking or crafting...essentially not at all until I got out of the AF.

Someone recently said on Oprah that she thought Oprah didn't like her...that Oprah only wanted the work - not her. That really resonated with me. I think that's how I've felt for my whole life - especially while in the AF. I felt as if I had to work harder and do better than everyone else - that my work had to be the best so that "they" would continue to want me. Every time I was recognized for my work, I felt as if it was just proof they only cared about the work...sort of a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Some days (most days?), I still feel that way...that I need to prove myself worthy of being someone's friend or of being loved. But I'm getting better at doing things just because I want to and because I enjoy it...and like the duct tape and the quilt - some days it works and some days it doesn't...but it's not the end of the world and if it gets messed up or doesn't turn out quite right, it's usually good enough or can be fixed to be better.

Audience of One

I just found a new blog I think I might enjoy by Women Living Well.

The first post I read was an Easter recipe for Resurrection Rolls - each part of the recipe has some meaning regarding Easter. If you make it properly, the roll is EMPTY when you take it out of the oven. Very cool! I can't wait to try it.

The second post I read was about her first failure as a mother. Coincidentally (a God-incidence?), her failure was my own. As much as I wanted to breastfeed my son (for nutrition, bonding, weight loss, etc.) I was not able to do it well. The Little Man was always hungry and no matter what I tried (pumping, Lactation Counselors, etc.) I couldn't feed him what he needed. Over a year later, I still feel as if I somehow failed because I wasn't able to do what is supposed to be so "natural and easy." If I had done something different, would I have been able to provide for him? Who knows?

God Knows!

Courtney ended her post with a Bible verse: "Cast all your anxious thoughts on him because he cares for you." (I Peter 5:7)

What a great thought! God cares for me. He cares for me. No matter what else I allow myself to think or the doubts I have or the "what if's" I torture myself with...God cares for me. Awesome! Just what I needed to hear...

The final post I read was a list of 25 things about the author...it was the final one on the list that really hit my heart. In this post she again states "God cares for me" (which I guess I really needed to hear today) but she also says "there is an audience of One to please" which made me think of my Tier One post from yesterday. Rather than worrying/thinking about what friends and family may or may not think of me or how much they may or may not care about me - God cares for me! He is really the only One I should be trying to please on a daily basis...

Thank you Women Living Well for the wake up call.

Spontaneity

I'm not known for being spontaneous. I like to have a plan, to know what's coming up, to know what to expect...Every once in a while though I do something spontaneous and it usually turns out pretty good.

This past Friday afternoon I decided to call my best friend from school and ask what her weekend plans were. Turns out she didn't have a whole lot going on and agreed it would be great to have me come for a visit. So, Saturday morning I jumped in the car and drove four hours to Whiteman AFB, MO. We had a great visit. Sunday we went to her parents house for a barbecue. I hadn't seen her family (mother, father and brother) since we graduated - about 12 years ago! It was great to see them and get to spend some time with them. I never knew her father had been a maintainer for 20 years, so we had a couple nice conversations about "the good old days" in maintenance.

I also got to see another friend who's also at Whiteman. Before this I hadn't seen her since I left Ramstein AB 6 years ago! I only got to see her for a few hours Sunday morning because her husband was coming back from a deployment that afternoon. But we made the most of the three hours we had. I got lots of cool ideas from her to help support my husband's squadron. She's really creative so I just kind of picked her brain on things to do. She came up with an awesome idea that I am really excited about for the unit - I just hope my husband is as excited as we are. I've already created a whole power point presentation to win him over. Now I just have to wait another week for him to get back from his TDY. Did I mention his TDY? Among other places, they went to Oslo and he took the time to look up his ancestors. He found the town his maternal grandfather was from and loved it. I'm not sure I have ever heard him so excited. I can't wait to see the pictures...heck, I can't wait to go with him and see it myself sometime.

Back to my spontaneous weekend...That's one of the things I love about my military friends. Even if it has been years since the last time we've been together, we always seem to pick up right where we left off. It's as if military people realize more than others that life sometimes gets ahead of you and everyone makes the best of the time they are given. If there's only time for coffee or lunch, then you enjoy the time you have.

It was a great weekend and I'm really glad I picked up that phone and called on Friday. Maybe I'll remember that next time I think of something spontaneous...

Shkodra Albania

After visiting Lezhe, we drove to Shkodra. We didn't see much of the town other than driving through it. However, we drove up a mountain to Rozafa Castle and from there we could see all of Shkodra and the surrounding countryside. On one side you can see the Buna Rover and on the other side was the Drina River.

It was neat for me to see the Drina since on my 2003 Balkan trip I got to see the Drina in Bosnia-Herzogovina. I read Ivo Andric's book The Bridge on the Drina before going and actually got to have lunch next to, as well as walk on, the actual bridge from the book. As I said, it was kind of cool to see the river again in a different country. It also seemed to somehow join both trips...both were to visit with friends from the Marshall Center, both were to the Balkans and now both showed me different parts of the Drina...

Rozafa Castle seemed to take up the whole top of the mountain. The history has been traced back 4000 years to a Bronze Age settlement. Still standing are some Illyrian "Cyclopean Walls" from around 350BC. Because of its long history, the castle has had many additions over the centuries. Wandering through the different courtyards, you can see not only the Illyrian construction but Ottoman and Venetian as well. The main medieval building still standing is St Stephen's Church. At one point, after the Ottomans invaded, a minaret was added and the church was turned into a mosque.
Even though the museum inside the castle was closed, Igli had made some phone calls before we got there so we were allowed inside. Most of the items originally in the museum were plundered following the 1997 pyramid scheme collapse and resulting riots and chaos. There were however documents detailing Shkodra's history, a full-scale model of the castle and city, as well as many artifacts found in the castle and surrounding areas. On the main floor, just inside the doorway was a large sculpture of a woman feeding a child. the sculpture commemorates the Legend of Rosafa.

Rozafa Castle is "named" for the woman in the legend. The legend seems to be essentially an aid to show how important and worthy it is to put the needs of the many above the few (or in this case, above an individual).

The legend describes the initiative of three brothers who set about building the castle. They worked all day, but whatever they had built during the day, fell down at night. After this happened numerous times, they went to an oracle. The oracle advised them to make a sacrifice and then the walls would stand.

The three brothers couldn't decide whom to sacrifice. Finally, they agreed whichever wife brought them lunch the next day would be the one to be buried in the wall of the castle. They promised not to tell their wives. Yet, the two older brothers told their wives of the agreement while the youngest brother said nothing.

The next afternoon at lunch time, the brothers waited anxiously to see which wife was carrying the basket of food. It was Rosafa, the wife of the youngest brother. He explained to her what the brothers had agreed to - that she was to be sacrificed and buried in the wall of the castle so they could finish building it.

Rosafa had an infant son she would be leaving behind. In order to ensure her son's happiness, she agreed to be sacrificed on the condition they leave her right arm exposed so she could comfort her son, her right breast so she could feed him, and her right foot so she could rock his cradle.

V's parents have a painting representing the legend in the living room of their apartment, so it was nice to come full circle having seen the painting on our first night in Albania and seeing the castle on our last day.

Marshall Center

Several years ago (2003), I was incredibly lucky to be selected to attend the Leaders for the 21st Century course at the George Marshall European Center for Security Studies in Garmisch-Partenkirchen Germany. The Leaders Course has been combined with another course now, but back then it was a 9 week course. Nine weeks in Garmisch, one of the most beautiful places in the world, doing what I had always dreamed of - working with people from different countries, getting to know them and their stories, learning about national security, peacekeeping, etc.

For those who don't know the Marshall Center, their mission (from their website) is: to create a more stable security environment by advancing democratic institutions and relationships, especially in the field of defense; promoting active, peaceful security cooperation; and enhancing enduring partnerships among the nations of North America, Europe and Eurasia.

I was one of four Americans (two AF and two Army) in a group of around 180 people from maybe 40 (?) countries. We were split up into seminars of about 15 people each. Each day we would have lessons in the seminar room as well as mass briefings in Plenary Hall. Both rooms were equipped with earphones and all lessons/briefings were interpreted real-time into English, German and Russian. In addition, there were readings (homework) for each day.

V was sent as a representative of Albania and was one of the women in my seminar. We hit it off right away and the friendship grew from there. V's sister was going to school in Munich at the time, so we visited her over a couple weekends. Those weekends were so much fun. Picture a group of 6 or 7 people, speaking English, German, Albanian and even Italian. Yet, we were able to understand each other and have a really good time. I also got to meet V's cousin, her (now) brother-in-law and other close friends. [On the recent trip to Albania, I got to meet the cousin's mother - pretty cool.]

We also did some field trips from the Marshall Center such as a visit to Dachau and then to Vienna for briefings at the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE). Several of us also took weekend trips to see Europe. We went to Italy one weekend and saw Venice, Bologna, and Verona, and on another weekend went to Innsbruck.

In addition to V, I am still in touch with several others. I made some good friends during my time at the Marshall Center and hope we will continue to be friends for a very long time.

Remind me and sometime I'll post about my trip through the Balkans in 2003 to visit some of my Marshall Center friends...

I'll be in KY for the next 4-5 days so won't be posting again until I get back.

Durres Albania

After spending the morning in Kruja we went to Durres for a short tour and dinner. Durres is about 30 minutes from Tirana on the main (only) highway.

My friend V was born in Durres and spent the first six years of her life living there with her grandparents. Why she lived with her grandparents is actually a very interesting story. Her father started working as a translator when he was just 17. He was very good at his job speaking fluent German and Chinese among other languages. To stay on top of things (vocabulary, etc.) he read a lot. Since the communists limited the types of books available, he asked some friends to send him some books from Germany. They sent dictionaries and other books to help him with his work. One of those books was Freud. Somehow the Communists found out and he was punished. His punishment was being sent up into the mountains to live for 8 years. The mountains were not healthy for a young baby so V was sent to live with the grandparents in Durres and her parents visited every month. It's like something out of a book, yet the people who lived it are right in front of you. Amazing.

Durres is a very old city. As in ancient. As in founded in 627 BC! One of the amazing things about Durres is the history right in the middle of it. You can walk down the street and up a small hill and right in front of you is a 1st or 2nd Century Roman Amphitheater. It is supposed to be the largest in the Balkans and is thought to have seated 20,000 people. It wasn't discovered until the 1960s so there are houses all around it, and one or two decrepit looking houses are actually inside the fenced off area. There are some other Roman ruins in other parts of the city, one set we looked at was a ring of pillars. Or what used to be a ring. Now there are only 5 or 6 pillars still standing. Turns out they were planning on building in that area when they discovered the ruins. The contractors tried to hide it/cover it up (so they could keep building) and destroyed many of the pillars before they were stopped. The mayor supposedly gave them permission to continue but the Prime Minister over-ruled him.

This debate really got me to thinking about how to appreciate and save our past while still making room for our present and our future. My first thought was "how in the world can they destroy such a historical find?" My next few thoughts concerned how many similar finds must have been destroyed either unknowingly or because the builders didn't care. Then I realized that with such an old civilization, there must be things of historical significance everywhere. Centuries worth of people living in the same area must at some point have cleared away the old in order to build new and "better" living, working, farming areas. How in the world, especially in such a small country, do you decide what to keep and what to "throw away" in order to allow growth and expansion for the people living today?

We also drove up a small mountain to see the former home of King Zog. Ahmet Zogu was elected as Albania's first president in 1925 but then declared himself King Zog in 1928. King Zog had a palace in Durres which was supposedly very fine in its day, having been decorated and furnished by his aristocratic wife. Unfortunately, in 1997, following the collapse of the pyramid schemes, the palace, which had been turned into a national museum, was targeted by vandals and the many paintings, furnishings, etc. were stolen. Now it sits as a sad reminder of what used to be. V and her husband seemed genuinely distraught at the sight - sad their own countrymen are/were capable of such unnecessary damage and sad that part of their history is gone forever.

We had dinner at one of their favorite Italian restaurants along the beach. Salad, pizza and pasta. As we already had experience with the size of the pizza from our night in Milan, I planned on just having a couple slices of his. V's husband talked me into trying some of the pasta too. When the pasta arrived, there were nasty little gray clumps with stinger like things sticking out of one end. Turns out, they were little clams. Now I only like clams when they are the Howard Johnson's type of fried clams. As in, so much breading and dipping sauce that you can't really tell what it actually tastes like. These were not Ho-Jo's clams. I ate some of it to be polite and then handed it off to Tom in exchange for his pizza.

Following dinner, we walked along the beach for a bit. Not in the sand, they have a paved area similar to a boardwalk. We stopped for some gelato, walked a bit more and then headed back to Tirana, getting to bed around 2300.

Kruja Albania

On 1 Apr 09, our second day in Tirana, we went to Kruja (pronounced Kru-yah).

The day started out with coffee, of course. My husband has really taken a liking to Espresso, though I hope he will never get to I's regular 10-12 Espressos a day.

The drive to Kruja was relatively quick. It's about 32 km from Tirana. That's not really what made the trip so short. Driving in Albania is an art form and requires courage, a lot of courage. As "I" said when we first got there, "the only rule is there are no rules." There is only one main road, the "highway." The other roads are a crapshoot, some are OK and some are downright terrible. Most of the cars seem to be four-wheel drive or off-road capable types of cars -with good reason. No matter the condition of the road, they go fast. Very fast. And they take the art of passing to the next level. It doesn't matter if you can see the expression on the face of the driver heading toward you, if you want to pass the car in front of you, just go for it. The car you are passing will slow down enough for you to get in front of them, and/or the car coming toward you will swerve a bit to allow room for three cars while you're passing. This gets a bit trickier when there isn't enough room for the other car to swerve or make way. Not that this stops people from passing...my husband says he's ready to try driving the next time we visit - I don't think I'll ever be ready to drive in Albania.

On the way into Kruja, we drove past the cafe/bar where Pres Bush had coffee during his visit to Albania in 2007. The changed to name of the cafe to the "George W. Bush Cafe." V's husband wanted to stop and have coffee which would have been cool, but we were on a timeline so V could teach at 1400.

Kruja is a very historical city for Albania. It's over 800 years old and is considered to be the center of Albanian resistance to the Turks. It was the site of a huge battle, in 1450, between the Albanians (joined together by Skanderbeg) and an Ottoman army that outnumbered them 5 to 1. Skanderbeg is considered to have saved Europe and Christianity by keeping the Ottomans from crossing into Europe.

They took us to the Citadel in Kruja and the Skanderbeg Museum which is located in the castle. On the way up to Kruja Castle, built between the 5th and 6th century, we walked through the old bazaar. I really wish we had had more time so we could stop to look at everything. It amazed me that there was so much in the bazaar, especially since it seemed to be in the middle of nowhere on the side of a huge mountain. I could have happily bought quite a few things to remember this trip, but we didn't have time (or the available weight in our suitcase).

The Skanderbeg museum was built in 1982. It struck me as out of character for the communists to build a museum in memory of the man who gave Albania it's nationalism.Wouldn't it make more sense if the communists had tried to erase Skanderbeg from the Albanian mindset? Instead, it seems they realized that Skanderbeg was such a huge national hero and would only grow more popular if they tried to erase the memory of him.

We received a private tour of the museum with an English speaking guide. In addition, quite a few things in the museum had descriptions/explanations in English. It was very well set up and showed a lot of the history for the area. I was a complete geek and took a picture of the bathroom in the museum. It's probably not very cool to talk about bathrooms and toilets but I'm going to. If you don't like it, skip ahead.... Everything I had read about Albania before our trip talked about how it was still a bit behind the rest of the world and not to be surprised by hole-in-the-floor toilets (and to bring your own TP). As I had seen/used these before (during my trip to Bosnia and Serbia) I was prepared. However, everything we had seen so far was pretty modern (at least compared to holes in the floor) so I was surprised when the museum had the old kind of toilets. Despite the hole in the floor thing, it was very clean and no big deal...

Next to the citadel was the Ethnographic Museum. It was essentially the home of "rich" people from the 14-15th century and set up to show the visitor traditional Albanian life. We got to see tools they used for grinding corn, weaving and pressing grapes as well as how the home would have been set up at that time - bedrooms, eating area, etc.

After the museums, we drove back so V could teach her marketing class at the University of New York in Tirana while her husband, Tom and I went to lunch. We went to the restaurant where V and her husband met. It was a very nice, small Italian restaurant. We started with salad and these incredible sauteed mushrooms. They actually tasted like some kind of meat - very, very tasty. The "first plate" was three types of pasta. The "second plate" was "shoulder of beef" and potatoes. We finished with a fruit plate of sliced apples, oranges and kiwi. As usual, there was wine and water with lunch and followed by espresso for the men. As we were leaving, we were told someone who worked for V's husband, when he was the Minister of the Interior, had paid for our lunch. I didn't think stuff like that really happened...it was almost like being a celebrity.

After all that walking and food, all I wanted was a nap. So V's husband went to get some work done and we collapsed for an hour at the hotel. We met up again at 1800 and drove to Durres. Durres will be the next post...

First Day in Tirana

We arrived at Mother Teresa International Airport in Tirana on 31 Mar 09.

My husband exchanged some Euro for Albanian Lek at the counter in the airport while I went out to meet V and I. We had been a little nervous whether they would be there to meet us since there had been quite a few changes to our travel itinerary and we hadn't been able to get a phone call to go through. Note to self: don't book flights to essentially third-world countries on airlines floating above bankruptcy.

After checking in at the hotel, Tirana International, and the first of many, many coffees (where we were informed we wouldn't be allowed to pay for anything), we drove to see their son, D, and a bit of Tirana. One of the first things we saw was a car with an Illinois license plate! Small world! If only we'd had the camera out to snap a picture...Throughout the trip, I think we ended up seeing plates from about 15-16 different states (NY, AK, NJ, TX, etc...my husband probably remembers them all).

We had the first of many, many Italian meals at "La Tavernetta." We started with the salad bar - not the usual salad bar, most things were very fresh but dipped in, sitting in, or soaked in olive oil. V served me to ensure we tried everything and got the best stuff. It tasted much better then it looked. After salad, we had pasta with prawns (little beady eyes and antenna included), followed with a chicken dish for the men and finished with a fruit plate.

After lunch, we went to the apartment to pick up their. We met V's father and sat for a while talking and drinking some very good (in my husband's opinion) whiskey. Then we went to the mall for more coffee. From the inside, the mall could have been in any state in the US - different stores of course, but otherwise pretty similar. Following coffee, we drove up one of the mountains to get a good view of Tirana. We actually went up to the hotel we were originally booked in for the trip last fall that never happened. Thank goodness we didn't stay there - very nice place with great views, but way out of town and the roads were horrible! We would have been stuck.
The night ended with a dinner of traditional Albanian specialties made by V's mother. We started with a cheesy spinach crepe dish and salad. Then, wow, this amazing northern Albanian specialty made of meat, cheese, yogurt - I have no idea. It was served in a dish for two people and was incredible. The name sounds something like "fergess" but I don't know how to spell it or what's really in it. Then there were Albanian sausages, vegetables, and a pork dish. Then, as if that wasn't enough, we finished with a platter of three different Albanian desserts - a northern Albanian cake which was really good - not very sweet but a nice texture and good flavor, Baklava, and "Kadaif" which made me think of worms squirming out of phyllo dough but was actually quite tasty. I was corrected in that the worm-like noodle things were some kind of spaghetti dessert thing ("vermiccelli-like pastry"). I am not describing it right and if we hadn't been in V's parent's home, I might have gotten a picture of it (the picture here comes from Wikipedia). Regardless, it was good. What was really amazing is that V's mom worked until around 5 PM, then went home and made all this stuff. We started dinner around 7:30 PM (which turned out to be one of the earlist dinners we had while there) so she didn't have a whole lot of time, but managed to have a beautiful table set and wonderful food. I was quite impressed.

V's parents are really interesting. The type of people you can spend hours talking with and constantly learn something new. It helped, of course, that they both spoke English and German (add in Italian and Greek and you still haven't covered all their languages...). We spent a lot of time talking about politics - both in Albania and the US. The Albanian elections are coming up in June so there were many discussions concerning their party and the current administration. We also talked quite a bit about Albania joining NATO, which was set to offically happen the day we left (4 Apr) and there were flags and signs all over Tirana celebrating that "miracle of freedom."

We got back to the hotel around 10:30 PM. Needless to say, the day was quite long, especially after having spent the day before in Milan walking around quite a bit and then going to the airport pretty early for the Tirana flight. Surprisingly, the bed and pillows in Tirana were the most comfortable of the whole trip and despite all the coffee and copious amounts of wine, whiskey, raki and water throughout the day, we slept very well.

The Cave 2

Follow up from yesterday's post about my cave...

First a funny thing, I am reading Agatha Raisin and the Wizard of Evesham and last night she (Agatha) called the vicar "antisocial" because he doesn't like people coming to visit. Seriously, what are the chances of me talking about using the word wrong and then reading a book, published 10 years ago, and seeing the author use that exact word incorrectly? I had to stop and snicker a bit...if other authors can make mistakes like that and still get published - maybe there is still hope for a future in writing for me?

After writing the post I got a very nice e-mail from one of the few people who read this post. Then, later, I chatted with a friend on Facebook...Amazing how a friend can find the right things to say and then all of a sudden the funk is gone - or at least abated a bit. Maybe that's why the funk lasted so long in the first place - by going into my cave I was keeping myself away from the one thing that usually makes me feel better - friends. Ah, a light goes on...

So, yesterday I also talked about my Kaffe Klatch. I went and had a very nice time. The five of us just sat and talked (in German) for about two hours. Doesn't sound very exciting, but I really enjoyed it. All five of us are Air Force (AD/Ret) spouses, born overseas (four of us in Germany). The hostess was a wonderful lady named Doris who had just recently returned from a trip to Morocco. (I had to bite my tongue not to ask about "Casablanca" and look like a dork.) Doris made two wonderful cakes - a cappuccino mouse and an apple torte. I had a half slice of each and was wonderfully happy. They even gave me some great ideas about hostess gifts to take with me on our trip to Germany and Albania. All in all, I had a very nice time.

So, besides commenting on yesterday's post, I titled this post "The Cave 2" for another reason. The picture I chose for the post reminded me of a book I read as a child. I have never been able to remember the title or the author, which is really too bad because it made a huge impression on me. The story is essentially about time-travel and how one little thing in the past can have serious repercussions in the future (present?). The story has these people travelling back to the past, but the key is they had to stay on this path and not touch anything. Something happens and a flower or blade of grass gets crunched and that one small thing changes everything. In the cave picture, if you look closely, you can see a path through the cave. As soon as I saw that path, I thought of the book and time-travel. Ever since reading that first book, I have loved the idea of time-travel and have read numerous books with that theme - including, recently, A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court, which is supposedly the first time-travel book.

Anyone know what story I am talking about - title, author? How do you feel about time-travel? What's your favorite time-travel book?

The Cave

Quite often I get into a kind of funk where all I want to do is crawl into a cave for a bit and not see or talk with anyone. A serious kind of cave where I don't even want to read or send e-mail. It's not as if I have to see or talk to people when reading or writing an e-mail - but it still seems to be too much at that particular moment. I'm glad I have some very understanding friends, and sometimes sad that I might have lost some friends who were maybe not that understanding. Though I guess if they didn't take the time to understand me, maybe I didn't lose much anyway...

A friend of mine was the first to call it "crawling into my cave." That sounds much better than saying I am antisocial. Especially when you realize that "antisocial" is a personality disorder with the essential features of deceit and manipulation. So maybe antisocial is not really the word I am looking for...

How many other words are out there that we use all the time not realizing they don't mean what we think they mean? Yup, I've got to say it...Princess Bride music playing softly in the background, in a Spanish accent, "You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means"....and then, "Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die..."

Think about it though - when I say "antisocial" to me it means someone who doesn't want to be social. It doesn't necessarily make me think of psychopaths -which may or may not be the same thing. I guess the word I am really looking for is "asocial" which doesn't even really sound like a real word to me.

Is it any wonder that I didn't do well in college English? Though considering the comments I got on most of my papers, I chalk up my very poor grade to my attention to detail (or lack there of) since I paid more attention to what was in the paper rather than how it was presented.

Back to my main point - the cave. I have been in my cave for a few days now - maybe even a week. It happens quite a bit when my husband is TDY. I have things planned but then don't do all of them. Case in point, OSC Bingo today. I didn't really want to go anyway, but someone called and invited me. Since the husband is gone and I never sleep well when he is gone, I didn't get to sleep until after 0200 and woke up with a headache (no surprise) so I didn't go to Bingo. So, is it me being in my cave or just not wanting to go sit in a room for an undetermined length of time with people I don't know playing a game that reminds me of church socials when I was young?

I have a Kafee Klatch to go to this afternoon. I know one of the ladies and have met two of the others. We will have tea, coffee, whatever and speak German for an hour or so. Since I am going to Germany later this month and haven't spoken it in quite a while - it will probably be good practice. So, I guess I will crawl out of my cave for a bit today and see how it goes.

Do other people have their own version of a cave? They must, if a word has been created to fit the situation. I'm not talking about those people who are afraid to leave their homes. Just people who every once in a while, don't want to be social, who every once in a while, want to just sit and think about life with nothing else going on around them...where are those people? It might be nice to meet them.

How Have You Changed...?

The funny thing about Facebook is that people seem to be willing to admit to things they never would face to face. There are so many "quizzes" going around - 25 Random Things About You; How Have you Changed in the Last 20 Years?; Name your Firsts; Three Things; etc. There is some funny pull that makes me want to read these, even about people I hardly know - hardly knew even in HS or college. As if I am really going to know these people better after having read them.

There is an even stranger pull that makes me want to take part. To be part of the group. Yet, I don't share a lot of this information with my best friends or family - so why would I want to share it on an open "social network"? 

I did do the one about 25 random things about me. I thought about it for quite a while - what did I want these people to know about me? What was I willing to openly share that people might not already know? I shared juicy tidbits such as the fact that I like romance novels and sci-fi, that cleaning is not my forte, that I have always wanted to be a writer, that I miss being in uniform, etc. 

I've thought about doing the others. Yet, I don't want to look stupid - even in front of people I don't really know. For instance, the current one, "How have you changed in the last 20 years?" asks who your best friends were 20 years ago, 15 years ago, 10 and now. As I have found out recently, the people I may think are my best friends, may just see me as acquaintances. That would be pretty embarrassing if I were to say someone was my best friend and they didn't even remember hanging out with me...then I think, who cares? If that is who I remember hanging out with then who is anyone else to say different? The things I remember, or the way I remember them, aren't necessarily the same, nor do they have to be, as what someone else remembers.

One of the notes I read shows that the person has lived in Richmond their entire lives. On that one fact alone I thought about doing it, just to show that not everyone stays in Richmond - or in KY for that matter. That one can make new friends - maybe not the same kind as people you grew up with, but sometimes they can be even better because they know the person you are now - not just a grown up version of the person you were as a child.

I don't know if I will actually do it on Facebook, but it is sometimes nice to sit and think of those things...what was I doing 20 years ago? What was I doing 10 years ago? Who did I hang out with...? It's nice every once in a while to think back and remember (scrapbooking helps with that...). 

I have been doing that, looking back and remembering, quite a bit the last couple days as yesterday was Carrie's birthday. I miss her. 

Creek Fever

I don't watch scary movies because I don't want those images stuck in my head. I have a hard enough time with images stuck in my head from when I was a kid and watching scary movies was cool.

So, if I know that I can't ever get stuff out of my head once I have seen it, why is it that I keep watching sappy, unrealistic TV like Dawson's Creek? Sometimes, especially lately, I wonder if the reason I am so hard on my own life is because I somehow expect it to live up to the fantasy life I have seen on so many TV shows and movies.

It seems as if all my life I have wanted some ideal. At times, it's just me wanting to be perfect - for my real life to be a reflection of the life I feel I should be leading. Other times, it's my personal life. I want my family to be close and loving - people I know I can turn to no matter what, who will accept me and love me, no matter what. I want my friends to be the kind of friends who know everything about me and still love me. People who accept me for who I am but will also push me to do more and to be better.

In real (not reel) life, I feel like a stranger in my own family and most of my friendships seem to last only a few years and then somehow drift away.

Why do I watch Dawson's Creek when I know those images won't leave my head? When I know that, at least for a while, I turn into this strange kind of introspective geek who examines everything: events, what people say or didn't say, what I said or didn't say, every look, etc...if only I had the vocabulary of the "Creek Kids," then I could pretend I was one of them for a while...I definitely have the self-absorbed-life-revolves-around-me vibe going. At least for a little while.

Having moved around so much in the last 20 years, it's easy to see why I don't have the kind of life-long-lived-around-the-bend kind of friendships they show on Dawson's Creek. For better or for worse, I have a few friends that are friends no matter how long it has been since we last spoke. The kind of people who care about me enough to pick up where we left off 4 months ago, 2 years ago, or in some cases, 10 years ago or more. Those are the friends who really matter. The ones I wanted in my life back then, and want in my life today.

So, why am I hung up on the others? The ones who meant a lot at one point and are no longer part of my life for one reason or another? Maybe they were just meant to be in my life for that one season. They were there when I needed them, or I was there when they needed me, and then we both moved on. I can see how that makes sense, yet I still can't let it go. I feel as if it's some kind of judgement on me because they don't want to be in my life anymore. It's a struggle to just let it be and move on.

Maybe it's because I wonder if by fixing whatever went wrong in those relationships, then I can learn how to "fix" whatever is wrong with my familial relationships. If I knew how to fix whatever I did, maybe it would work to make my family love me more, want to be with me, want to share their lives with me, and would make them care enough to be part of my life...And again, I ask myself why I can't just let it be?

I have made a new family with Tom. And I am blessed with the love of a few wonderful friends. That should be more than enough. Most days it is. It's just when I catch "Creek" Fever and get too introspective that I let myself wander down this road. I just need to remind myself that I watch Dawson's Creek because it reminds me of friends who have wandered in and out of my life.

Whatever else it does or doesn't do, Dawson's Creek makes me remember my friends, old and new, and those who have moved on to other things. I am blessed whether they are still part of my life or not because for at least that one period of time, when I needed them most, they were there. So, I'll continue to pull out my DVDs and have a Dawson's Creek marathon every now and then. I'll get all angsty and introspective. And I'll remember my friends and count my blessings.

Missing Friends

In the last few months, pretty much since I started going through old pictures to try my hand at scrapbooking, I have been thinking more and more of missing friends. Some that I have lost forever, some that just somehow drifted away over the years.

Facebook has been a great thing for getting back in touch with old friends. I can't believe the number of people I have "found" again through FB. Yet, FB also has some drawbacks. There must be some contest I don't know about to have the highest number of friends on FB, because sometimes I am totally confused as to why these people want to "friend" me. They are friends of friends or siblings of friends or people I have never even heard of who have no "mutual" friends so I don't know how they found me.

Then there is what I have come to think of as the "High School Hang-up." I wasn't the geekiest person at my school but I wasn't the most popular either. When I look back, I think I have had a pretty successful and surely happy life in the 18 or so years since I graduated high school. Yet, somehow, being on FB and seeing people I graduated with "friending" my siblings or other friends instead of me brings back all those old HS insecurities. Do they just not like me? Why don't they like me? WHY DO I CARE? Yet, I do. So I have been avoiding Facebook like an insecure high school freshman. Hopefully, I will get over it soon, because I really do like FB....

I have also used the internet (mostly Google) to find some old friends. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. I have been pleasantly surprised at the response I have gotten from some long-lost, missing friends I have managed to track down. Now, I just have to keep in touch!

Then, there are those missing friends that are truly gone forever. Today marks one year since I lost my friend Carrie and her son Lucas. Today I talked with another friend who was also good friends with Carrie and we just spent some time reminiscing and missing Carrie. Sometimes it is hard to remember that Carrie wasn't perfect; there were so many good things about her. She was a great friend who truly cared about others - often doing little things just to show you how much she cared and that you were thought of; she was a great mother - she loved Ashley and Lucas so much, you could tell just being around her that they were her world; she was a good wife - (though Jim would be the better judge on that) when I stayed with them for two months, it was easy to see how important it was to her to make a good home for him, to support him and how much she loved him. The main thing I will always remember about Carrie was her love of life - she was ALWAYS moving, always doing something. Sometimes she thought of it as a flaw, that she couldn't slow down or sit still...but she was able to fit so much into her way too short life. She touched so many people who are changed forever for knowing her.

While I know I can never be exactly like Carrie, nor should I want to be for I am my own person, I do hope that I continue to grow in my love for others and learn to care more about showing love than worrying about what others may think.

I guess part of that will be continuing to search for those other missing friends and keeping in touch with those I have found. Being a good friend is probably the best legacy I can think of to remember Carrie.

Isolation

In the two years since I left the Air Force, I have spent a lot of time thinking about the things I want to change in my life. One of the main things I wanted to change was how I tend to isolate myself. I wanted to be a better friend, a better sister, daughter, wife, etc. It is just now that I am starting to realize that instead of being "better" I may have moved even further away from people.

In the AF, it was easy to use my uniform, or my rank, to create an island where I stood alone and only rarely let anyone else come in close. Those I did allow in, were not allowed to stay for long as I meant to stay the way they pictured me in their minds instead of how they would come to see me if they were too close for too long.

I realized today that in place of my "rank" I have put on another "uniform," one that is much harder to see around and much harder to discard. I have made myself invisible to a large part of the population and most likely an object of some disgust to another part of it. By allowing myself to gain weight, or more correctly, by hiding behind food and thus my weight, I have created an even more isolated island and allowed even fewer people access.

In my heart I feel as if people do not want to know me, be near me or love me. The outward expression of those feelings is a large size which even I cannot bear to look at. Despite that, I am confused when people don't want to be with me or worse, don't even think of me. I desperately want to be liked, loved, even while I do not love myself.

I have seven brothers and sisters and not one of them is a friend - someone I have faith in to be there when/if I need them. One of them, refuses to speak with me at all and returned my Christmas card unopened. After a full year, he will not forgive me for a situation he perceives as my failure to support him. I feel as if he took advantage of me and then stabbed me in the back, yet I have tried to clear the air and move forward. As evidenced by the returned card - it is going nowhere.

Another sister, the one who should be closest to me, won't answer my calls, letters or e-mails. I have no idea why. The others, I find out more about them through comments from others on Facebook. They are strangers to me. People I would not, and did not, choose as friends but who are tied to me through blood or marriage. They don't seem to have a problem not knowing me or my life - so why do I let it matter that I am not a part of their lives? Why does it bother me that they don't think of me?

As far as friends go, I just found out that one of my oldest friends is not only married but has a son. Once again, I find myself shut out of a life I thought I was involved in. I have tried to be a friend, yet I am surprised over and over when I realize the lives of others move on and change without me.

In two years, if there has been any change at all, it has been for the worse. Yet, I must keep trying, or at the very least learn to accept myself for who I am and as I am, and cherish those who love me no matter what. They may be few and far between, but they are the ones who truly matter. The others, ah, the others...Those I must try to accept as they are when they are near and not focus on them or feel as if they are judging me when they choose to be far away. If I can learn to be happy with myself - the lack of closeness with others will hopefully cease to matter so much.