Stream of Consciousness...

Warning: Post about random thoughts ahead! I normally don't write posts lacking a distinctive theme, but since four year's worth of my journal entries were destroyed when my computer crashed last June, this seems like a safer way to store my thoughts for now.

Italy
I've been thinking of Italy a lot lately, probably because if original plans would've worked out, I would be heading there in just about a month from now. I found myself (perhaps subconsciously) at Cafe Rome, an Italian cafe located in my office building, twice this week. Once for a latte, and once for gelato. An incomparable substitute, but a substitute nonetheless.

Actually, maybe I'm just thinking about Italy because it's the location of this season's Jersey Shore. Yikes. I expected that the JS kids - while highly entertaining - would fail to blaze a respectable trail for future American tourists, and so far they've exceeded my expectations. In fact, now that I think about it, the image of Team Meatball flashing their "kookas" all over town is probably pretty fresh in the minds of innocent Italian civilians. So, it's probably best to postpone my trip until the disaster that is the cast of Jersey Shore is no longer associated with American tourists. Can I get an amen?! How 'bout a fist pump?!

Tooth Stuff
As I've mentioned in a previous post, the direct result of postponing my aforementioned trip to Italy is due to the $5k worth of oral surgery my dentist discovered I needed last June. Well, I'm happy to report that I'm now post-op, and everything went well. I had to have a front tooth removed and had to get an implant with bone grafting. It's a procedure that not a single dental insurance carrier covers, but I found it quite necessary even though insurance bureaucrats do not. Anyway, my dentist told me this would be the best solution after she discovered that the bone near one of my front teeth was basically dissolving. This was occurring due to an injury I suffered when I was only nine years old, and the tooth has been a problem ever since. I wish I could tell people that I was a "rough and tumble" sort of child, and that the trauma resulted from an awesome monkey bar mishap, or a soccer injury where I sacrificed my body to block a goal. But sadly, I only have the fact that I'm a life-long klutz to blame. (I tripped. In my parent's living room.)

After the procedure of having a screw drilled into my face, the implant site then requires three months to heal and allow for the synthetic bone material to adhere to the real bone before getting a permanent crown. So, during the three month interim, I'm wearing a temporary denture while in public. During the first two weeks post op, I'd feel like such a hillbilly every time I'd walk out the door, despite donning my acrylic substitute. I'm pretty much used to it now, but I'm still hyper aware of it when I talk to people. And before having the surgery, I really thought it would be traumatizing each time I'd look into a mirror at home for the several months that there wasn't a tooth in place. Quite the opposite has occurred, however. It makes me giggle SO much! Mostly, I feel like a 32 year old 1st grader, which in itself is funny, but I find myself doing hillbilly impressions in the mirror to no one's amusement but my own.

But I don't just contain laughing at myself like an idiot to the privacy of my own home! Noooooo! I was at Target a week or so ago shopping for soft foods (of course). When I plucked a packet of rice off the shelf, a fellow shopper, who incidentally had no teeth, asked me, "Eesh that shtuff any good?" Ummm, it's rice, I thought. But not wanting to insult my fellow toothless comrade, I refrained from a smart ass reply and simply said, "Yeah, I like it." He then proceeded to tell me how he likes to cook rice with "tuna feesh." The first thought that ran through my mind was to ask him to go Hillbilly Handfishin' with me. I immediately rounded the corner to the next aisle, desperately trying to stifle my giggles. I didn't want him to think I was making fun of him! Quite the opposite, in fact, as I could relate to his struggle with whistling 's' words.

Dating
I met a guy in late July who seemed quite promising, and we even made it to four dates, despite the overwhelming results from a poll taken amongst my family members when we were all together for my cousin's wedding last month. They made it very clear that, because of his lack of chivalry on our second date, that he should not be granted a third date.

I met John for our first date at a beer garden situated in a neighborhood between our own neighborhoods. We each had a couple drinks and lots of great conversation. Score! For our second date, he suggested a very fancy sushi restaurant downtown. The fact that he took the reigns regarding the planning of this date thoroughly impressed me, so I was excited. And the level of excitement remained high... until the bill came. Even though I was 99.9% certain he'd be a gentleman and pick up the tab, I did the obligatory reach-for-purse-and-offer-to-help-pay move anyway. He then caught me off guard by saying, "So right down the middle works?" I was certainly taken aback, because he planned this whole thing, and when I plan a date, I also plan to pay. If I had known that I was going to have to fork over dough on that particular Sunday evening, I would have suggested the cheapo taco stand under the El tracks in my up-and-coming neighborhood, as opposed to fancy schmancy downtown fare. Instead, I reluctantly paid my half. But his lack of chivalry certainly rubbed me the wrong way, and my Aunt Diana told me I should have said, in response to him assuming we'd be splitting the bill, "Oh I'm sorry, I didn't bring my wallet. I thought this was a date!"

So what on earth possessed me to agree to a third date, you ask? I guess I really liked our conversations? I thought he was cute? I liked that I didn't have him all figured out by the first two dates? Oh wait - he offered to cook me dinner. And anyone who knows me knows that the way to my heart is through my stomach. I thought this could be a redeeming date, especially because the dinner did live up to his incessant bragging about his cooking skills. But, I was deathly allergic to his cat! In fact, I was such an allergic mess that I had to leave immediately following dinner so as not to die of asphyxiation. Also, and possibly the more important reason for making an abrupt exit, the central piece of decor in the living room of his fancy loft was one of those hideous carpeted cat tower thingies. Barfity barf barf.

So what on earth possessed me to agree to a fourth date, you ask? I have no idea, except for maybe I'm insane? Anyway, I agreed and he told me I should plan the date. So, I randomly intentionally chose to get dinner at the cheapo taco stand under the El tracks in my up-and-coming neighborhood (I'm no dummy!). He pulled out his wallet at the register once we finished ordering. I reflexively executed the reach-for-purse-and-offer-to-help-pay move. (I assume this move is a subconscious reflex developed in women only after years of fruitless dating.) Without a word from me, John spotted the wallet in my hand and said, "Oh you got it? OK." and put his wallet back in his pocket. And at that moment I realized that he would never get it, but I was really hungry so I decided not to angrily bolt out of the place like I had momentarily envisioned in my head.

He was then rude to the super friendly owner by giving him a "note" that the ginger in the fish tacos (which were complimentary with our order) was "too strong." What a d!ck. As we were leaving, he told me that my restaurant selection was great - and SO cheap! Yeah, especially cheap for you, buddy.

Instantly cured of my insanity, I did not agree to any more dates with him.

Great Unexpectations

Over the past few years, I have developed the belief that the universe has its way of shuffling us in the right direction in life. While it's easy to understand how good experiences move us forward, I also firmly believe that every problem and failure is a blessing in disguise (most often revealing itself in hindsight).

If it hadn't been for my motivation to get into the AUSL teaching program last year, I can't guarantee that I would have become a mentor with Mercy Home's Friends First program. Becoming a mentor had been in the back of my mind for years, but had I not been convinced that I needed experience working with children to gain acceptance into the teaching program, I may have been discouraged by all of the hoop jumping required to become a mentor. But because my eyes were focused on the "prize," I dutifully filled out enough paperwork to make trees cringe, took the El out to a part of the city that's more suburb than urb for fingerprinting, and used a half personal day to get a physical and TB test, in addition to attending all of the interviews and training sessions.

What I didn't realize then, and am so eternally grateful for now, was that the actual "prize" wasn't becoming a teacher at all - it was becoming a mentor. Even before I found out that I had not been accepted into the teaching program, I knew that mentoring was going to make a special impact on my life.

Today is my one year anniversary as a mentor with Friends First. I can hardly believe it has been 365 days since I met my marvelous mentee. Although I'm the mentor, we've both grown leaps and bounds just from spending time together. I credit mentoring for helping me become a better communicator, leader and friend. Being a mentor also serves as a reminder of the value I place on commitment and dedication in my life.

Mentoring has taught me a lot, but I'm not sure I would have learned as much as I have if my mentee wasn't such an outstanding individual. Her positive attitude, resiliency and eagerness to take in all the good the world has to offer is inspiring to me. She is sweet, smart, funny, outgoing, respectful, appreciative, helpful, determined and responsible. Although we've been together for a year, it took much less than a year for us to grow quite close. We've developed inside jokes (mostly about my horrible singing), learned each other's quirks, and are even able to read how each other feels just by a facial expression, which includes a "dance face."

Even when we aren't together, I'll think of something that happened during one of our outings and giggle. We're both clumsy, so that fact itself resulted in plenty of comic relief throughout our year. For instance, during our first outing after ringing in 2011, she was reenacting counting down to the new year (5! 4!...etc.) while we were crossing the street, until she tripped over the curb and completely wiped out on "1!" We consequently burst into giggles, and I'd catch myself giggling about it for weeks following. And another time, as she told me about a good grade she received in math, I gasped in excitement and then wiped out on some ice. "I guess I'm REALLY excited about your grades," I'd said. We didn't stop laughing until we got to the bus stop.

In addition to humor, we are both proud to be nerds. We love vocabulary words, and she'll never hesitate to stop me when I use a word she doesn't know to ask for its meaning. She then repeats the word a few times and makes it a goal to use it at school the next week. We also love to visit museums and learn about other cultures. We frequently discuss strong female characters in history, including Jane Addams, whose own museum we subsequently visited after seeing a display about her at the Chicago History Museum. Our love of learning, in fact, is going to be the theme for the Friends First newsletter that she and I will be on the cover of next quarter!

And speaking of learning, she has brought home all A's and B's since I became her mentor. She confessed that she hadn't had such good grades since 3rd grade. I intentionally put an emphasis on the importance of school and getting involved, and so we take time to celebrate her accomplishments in school and sports. In fact, during a meeting with my Match Support Rep, he relayed to me that she said I'm the first person she thinks of when she does something well in school, because she knows I'll be so proud of her. And being genuinely proud of her is what I most certainly am.

Additionally, to acknowledge that our year together has exceeded my expectations would be an understatement. Actually, it would be a lie. As I reflect on our year, I'm realizing that during the course of our time together, my expectations were virtually flipped into unexpected results. Here are some of my expectations going into the program compared with what actually happened:

• I expected to be matched with a pre-teen who was more "pre" than "teen."
• I didn't expect that she would morph from "pre" to "teen" right before my eyes.

• I expected that our activities would always be creative, imaginative and entertaining.
• I didn't expect that our trips on the El or random strolls through various neighborhoods would spur conversations that contributed to the most significant moments in our friendship.

• I expected to be her biggest cheerleader.
• I didn't expect that she would become mine. When we were rock climbing, for example, I cheered her on as she barely struggled to scale to the top. I had a more difficult time scaling up that wall, but hearing her cheer me on made me realize that there was no way I could quit, ultimately letting her see me fail, so I fought to conquer the wall as well. It was exhilarating for us to be proud of each other.

• I expected to take her out of her comfort zone and expose her to new things as often as possible.
• I didn't expect her to get (okay, drag) me out of mine. Hello!? Ice skating!

• I expected to develop a strong bond with her and be her biggest confidant.
• I never expected to sometimes feel as though I need her more than she needs me.

• Finally, I expected to commit myself to the mentoring program for one year.
• I didn't expect to be so eager to commit myself to a second year.

Becoming a mentor with Friends First has been one of the best experiences of my life. While few and far between, there have been challenges (heading out in bad weather and feeling under the weather, for example) but there has not been one single outing when I wasn't happy to have spent time with her, regardless of the activity. The completion of 365 days just doesn't seem like the natural ending point for us, and so I can't wait to see what adventures lie before us in our 2nd year!

Mentor & mentee mural painting for Artists of the Wall project on the lakefront in the Rogers Park neighborhood. We painted the yellow section, and ours are the red & green hand prints near the bottom left.