minnesota moments.

I had one of those lovely MN moments yesterday. I was in a small coffee shop in Pequot Lakes, visiting with a dearest friend and her new babe. The day's special was veggie chili, which, depending on the ingredients, had the potential to do some damage to my system. It's funny how easy it can be to assimilate mediocrity into one's life; for example, when it began to appear that Obama was going to win the election, I realized how little I'd actually allowed myself to hope that anyone other than a Repube was going to snatch it (though I did allow myself to fear the vacuousness that lies behind Sarah Palin's eyes). Yesterday, at the coffee shop I experienced a similar sensation of hope. When I asked the barista if she knew what was in the chili, the only response I expected, after months in Louisiana (aka customer service hell), was the LA standard: blank stare, (maybe) proceeded by a quick look around to see if anyone more knowledgeable is in the immediate vicinity, followed by an uncomfortable "I don't know." She surprised me however, and ran in the back to check, even coming back with a packet of the seasoning mix used in the chili. So sweet.

I don't feel like writing much these days. I spontaneously realized while talking to a friend a few days ago that I'm simply having an inward experience of late. I don't feel like talking about myself, or what's going on in my life, or any of it.

I would, however, love to hear all about what's going on with you ;)

time again.

2 more days and I drive away from Louisiana. At least for a few weeks, which nicely coincides with that lovely holiday of no obligations, save eating too much and being immobile for hours in front of the television: Thanksgiving. I'm not sure where Christmastime will find me, but I'm pretty excited to be back in Minne for turkey!

I'm in the last 2 days of ROV training with Oceaneering. The curriculum: 1 week Safety/First Aid; 1 week intro to ROVs; 2 weeks Hydraulics Theory; 2 weeks Electronics Theory; 1 week Piloting; 2 weeks practical (hands-on, in the yard) training. There haven't been any updates here because I haven't felt like writing. Still not sure where the hell I'm headed, and this job is most certainly not the ultimate destination, but I'm here and looking for the best in the situation, but don't really feel like writing about it much.

mini break.

Just a quick note. I'm in Florida this weekend! Gary invited a couple of us back to hang out at his place for the weekend, and to head out overnight on his boat. Unspeakable joy is my basic sentiment at this point, not to be spending another weekend in Morgan City.

I was remembering a story instructor Geoff told us once about how, when he was working offshore, he would come back from a long hitch and treat his girlfriend to a weekend in Florida. One of the guys in the class, a California native, queried how a weekend in FL could be much of a treat. Geoff, in his infinite wisdom, responded that, after living in Louisiana, FL was definitely a treat.

At this point, I would have to agree.

highest common denominator.

Here are some good things about being in Morgan City:

1. Oceaneering: is an amazing company that really, really takes care of its employees.

2. Gary & Will Ferrell (real name, Christopher): are 2 amazing guys in my class. Gary is ex-Air Force, originally from Michigan, lives in Ft. Walton Beach with his wife and son. We go to the gym weekday mornings at 6. Chris is ex-Navy (but only sort of), originally from somewhere in the Mojave Desert, more recently of San Antonio. He is the class clown, and looks like a young Will Ferrell. I think most of our class doesn't even remember his name because we only call him Will Ferrell.

3. The gym: is one of the few places I venture to outside of work and the hotel (other places are the grocery store and the laundromat). Since I have little else to do, I typically spend at least 45 minutes here before work, and at least an hour both days of the weekend. This is another perk of working for Oceaneering, as the company covers membership costs for employees.

4. Close proximity to FL: is nice because Gary has invited Will Ferrell and me out for a weekend on his boat! Plus, we'll get to meet his wife and 11-month old son, plus other friends. Need I say this will be a heavenly respite?

5. Time: is on my side, yes it is. And it's kind of awesome. I do get a bit stir crazy on the weekends, but it's nice to have so few distractions. It's been a bit of an adjustment to get back to a 5-day a week, 8-5 type schedule, but it's also nice to have some stability for a while. I'm continuing to feed myself a daily dose (or 2, or 3) of personal development/ motivational materials, and it's helping to keep my motivation high, and to keep my brain focused.

quietude.

I've become a complete recluse, but in the best possible way.

I arrived safely in Morgan City, just over 2 weeks ago. The drive from MN took a bit longer than I had anticipated, but I arrived in plenty of time. My first stop in LA was to empty out my storage unit in Robert, where everything was dry and untouched by Gustav and Ike. Everything I own here fits nicely in the bed of my baby truck, so I packed up, hit the road, and headed south. Though it wasn't as easy as that sounds. There was a moment, several of them, in fact, after my truck was loaded and everything covered and bungeed down, where the rover in me (and the part of me who, prior to my departure from MN, was struck dumb and scared at the thought of not only returning to Louisiana, but to Morgan City, no less) couldn't help thinking about getting back in the truck and keep driving... out of Louisiana... But, in the end, I couldn't think of anywhere to go (except to Chicago, of course), so toward Morgan City I headed.

As you may know, Louisiana recently weathered a few bad storms. After the water rises during flooding, it obviously returns to more normal levels at some point, and what's left behind is real, real smelly. So on that day, when I was already one foot back out of the state (or, colloquially here, "one foot out the state"), driving my little truck with the windows open because my air-con doesn't work, and it's still blazing hot and humid here, I kept smelling some very. bad. smelling. funk. and the smell lasted for most of the 2.5 hour drive. The best part was that, through only some fault of my own (I'd explain, but it would take much too long), I ran out of gas along the spillway, which is the smelliest of smelly. So then I had to wait for close to 2 hours, in the heat and the smell to wait for AAA to arrive.

Anyhoo, eventually I arrived, unpacked, and spent the following day getting to know my classmates in the various waiting rooms of the Occupational Medicine clinic where we took physicals and drug tests. Online training modules began the following day at the training facility, and last week we were occupied with safety/ certification classes.

rest stop.

I'm increasingly impressed with the rest stops I've been finding along my route. I may have mentioned in a previous post that, during the drive up from Louisiana a few months back, I stumbled upon a rest area in Mississippi with a 24-hour security kiosk allowing rest stoppers to sleep in their cars, without fear of being mungled by ill-doers or harangled by the po-po. Today, an even awesomer discovery: an Iowa rest area with WiFi. Amazing, no?

So, I'm on my way. I awakened this AM round about 4:30, after a fitful sleep of about 4 hours. One last DBC latte got me motivated though, and now I've covered about 130 miles (a scant 1,200 more to go!!).

I noticed something last night, some kind of portent, perhaps, because you all know by now of my belief in such things: the moon is just about full, probably will be full tonight. The sky was crystal clear last night, and the light from the moon shone down bright in the yard, and I remembered that the moon was also full the night I left Louisiana. I'm not sure the symbolism, but I'm sure it must have something to do with completion. Because even though I'm a bit apprehensive about heading back south, I do know that it's time for me to move on. Time for the next big thing ;)

[And here I'll quote a little Tom Petty, because the song always pops into my head at times like these:

It's time to move on/Time to get goin'
What lies ahead/I have no way of knowin'
But under my feet, babe/The grass is growin'
It's time to move on/Time to get goin']

truth.

My eye has started twitching. Just today, or maybe yesterday, but it's twitching regardless, which is never a super-duper positive sign, because my eye only twitches when I'm stressed, agitated, etc. It's funny, because the past couple weeks have been some of the most emotionally draining I've experienced, and yet the twitching only commences now that the worst is past. Do you know what's making my eye twitch? It's the same thing that triggers an extremely virile urge to comfort-eat, the same thing that's given me the slightest sensation of panic in the pit of my stomach.

I'm driving back to Louisiana tomorrow.

I've been doing a lot of thinking in these 2 months since I've been back in Minnesota, I guess the generic term would be *soul searching. I've been reading, and writing, thinking, meditating, a lot of the things I haven't really kept up on since last I lived in Minne. I've arrived at some interesting truths, and not many of them bode well for my staying in the south, or working offshore.

1. I'm a different person now than I was when I made the decision to go to dive school.

I'm fairly certain that the person or entity who made that decision was an alien visitor briefly inhabiting my body, or maybe not so briefly. It seems to me that this particular decision, and many of those preceding it (namely any decision I made in my 20s), were based on the need to prove something. Initially it's easy for me to say I needed to prove this mysterious something to someone else, but I'm actually starting to realize it was me I needed to impress. Maybe it's the product of low self-esteem, or an over-active ego, or blah blah blah, but it feels sort of finished now. I don't feel like I need to be interesting, or unique, or brave, or whatever other quality I so desperately needed to have attributed to my person/exploits/adventures. I've done a lot. And I still do want to do a ton more, but I also want to be happy, and I think that has gotten lost along the way.

2. I want to be surrounded by people like me, and by friends and family who love me.

I feel sometimes like a dancing bear when I'm out on the rig, like a horribly obvious novelty. And you know, it's not that fun, and it's not super comfortable. But at the same time, I've made the decision to be there, and I knew what I was getting into, right? It's a confusing riddle I've riddled time and again, to no discernible solution. What has been amazing about these past 2 months is that I can dress like a girl, and I look like lots of other girls around me. I can get dazzled and dress like I want to, without worrying about my pants being too tight, or my tube-a-boob sports bra not being restrictive enough. It's lovely to just be myself, exactly how I want to be, without having to run the butch-woman mind interference.

Additionally, the offshore bunch are not, not surprisingly, the most interesting bunch you might come across, primarily because they work offshore, which can be extremely monotonous. Some are very nice, with families, and pictures of their kids, kind words to say, advice to give, [offshore] stories to tell, but, by and large, not the type I'd choose to hang out with. Back here, on the other hand (and don't get me wrong, I'm not ready to move back to Minne just yet. Rather, it makes for a nice contrast), I'm surrounded by my girls (and this is a big part of it- I have FEMALE friends and relatives here to talk to, and listen to, and open up to, and share with). Again, I think it really comes back to just feeling normal, and being with people who are like me.

3. I'm pretty sure I can find what I'm looking for in another, more suitable, profession.

I hate to say it, but I think a force majeur in deciding to throw myself at the feet of the burly gods of commercial diving was money. I do like diving, I love diving, in fact. I love to be underwater, even when it involves a heavy-ass dive helmet, and being verbally abused by my salty instructors via crappy comms. I love doing stuff underwater. But what I really liked about commercial diving was the possibility of diving and making decent, and eventually even good, money. And this, of course, is never appropriate motivation, especially for someone as flightly as me.

There are other things too, like working in an international industry, and being scheduled on rotation (though this has become a glass-half-empty issue: a month off is awesome, but that month on is brutal), and even working in this industry (though I think I still romanticize this more than I need to). But it's such a boy's club, and I don't think I'm the woman to infiltrate. Geoff, one of my dive school instructors, put it to me this way once, that to become a diver, you really have to want it, and I think that probably applies to working in the industry too- you have to really want it. I really want some of what comes with working in the industry, but I also think that what I want could easily be found somewhere else.

4. I don't want to work for someone else.

It's amazing the stuff you can learn and accomplish when you don't need to worry about going to a lame job every day.

I think this understanding can be directly attributed to my dear dad, who, in the movie of my memory, is often seen extolling the perceived benefits of working for oneself. I guess it sunk in, or maybe it was that my stubborn and independent nature has just always had a natural bent in that direction. After all, I'm a hard worker, and I was raised by folks who worked for the same company for years. Yet, somehow, even during those early high school years, I just could not get behind the idea of going to the same lame job (whether that job be hostess at the local Perkins restaurant, or my OJT class), even when, clearly, I really should have kept going (eventually I got *fired from that Perkins job, and OJT class was the only class I ever failed). Fortunately, over the years, the urge not to go to work has magically transmuted itself into a love of comfort eating, which has happily sustained me for these many years, in many unhappy jobs.

Note, though, that I'm not quite ready to say "I want to work for myself," though it is, of course, implied. Baby steps and minor gradations from one to the next.

5. And finally, the idea of service...

I'm starting to think that life has a whole lot more meaning than anything I've been getting out of it. I mean, aren't we all just trying to find ways to feel happy, and fulfilled, and connected to the world around us? Of course, all the above statements are simply arguments to myself to justify that, once again, I might have to look the career horse in the mouth, and move on.

But the more I turn my attention toward the learning most compelling to me, the more this idea of service keeps coming up. I won't say too much more, because ideas are still incubating. But I think what I keep looking for in my work is to find the best use of who I am, and my guess is that an industry where I feel I need to keep myself under wraps most of the time is not a place where I can let my strange and girly light fully shine.