For years I’ve heard my husband talk about how much he wants to go back to ASL classes. I don’t know what is the extent of his sign language knowledge, but I’ve been on the watch for a local class we both could attend. My motivation didn’t really come until I watched this show on ABC Family called “Switched at Birth,” but after I finished watching the first season I knew I wanted to do something about it.

So John and I signed up for an ASL class at my work place and we start on September 26; I can’t wait! Many people who want to learn other languages probably don’t have sign language in mind and just the thought of being able to communicate with those who can’t hear is amazing. And as a culture, we will get to know their view of the world, so that makes it even more exciting.

I don’t know any deaf people, or at least I haven’t really gotten close to one. I recently met someone who’s deaf and I’ve been wanting to ask him so many questions, but since I’m so ignorant about it, I feel like I’m going to be offensive. The class will teach me so much.

A few years ago my husband had one of his online acquaintances, Carole Rule, analyze our handwriting. I blogged about it, but I really never did one of the things Carole suggested: raise the bar of my t’s. I currently put that bar right in the middle of the letter and it apparently means I have no long-term goals. That isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but maybe I wouldn’t feel so lost sometimes if I had a plan. The problem is, when I make plans, I usually end up getting disappointed because I set my standards way too high (but that’s a story for another day).

Anyway, I hadn’t read Carole’s email with the analysis for a long time and I looked for it this week. Now I’m making the conscious decision to raise the bar of my t’s when I’m writing something and hopefully it will help me to have a clear view of what I want for my future as a person and the future of my relationship. John and I have been talking of getting serious about buying a house next year and I think it is time to allow myself to believe I will get a house, I will settle in Chicago and I finally will be able to answer when people ask me “Where do you see yourself in 10 years?”

I can tell you it isn’t easy and it looks weird to me, but my t bars are higher now.

Visit Carole’s website if you’re interested in graphology.

ant·sy/ˈantsē/
Adjective: Agitated, impatient, or restless.

Do you ever feel like a plastic bag,
drifting through the wind
wanting to start again?

I can consider myself a happy person. I have relatively good health, a husband who adores me (and I adore back), a job I enjoy, enough toys to keep me entertained, etc. My life is good, no doubt about it. But there are some days when I feel restless; my uncle would call it “El aquí no es,” which means I just can’t find/figure myself.

I know I’m antsy when my thoughts start being all over the place and I try to do too many things at the same time without really paying attention to any of them. I read two pages of a book and then switch to another activity. I withdraw and get quiet because my head is so full I can’t stand getting extra input. I start thinking of things I want to buy and go on a crazy online window shopping without actually buying anything. Like trying to fill a void or give my life some purpose. It bothers me for a while, but it also helps me center myself and reorganize my life.

Hopefully the antsy phase will pass soon and I can re-focus. And of course this is one of those times where I really should get serious about meditation. But housework will do for now. The clothes are not going to fold themselves.

My husband is starting a new job today, so he needed to bring his ID and I keep everything in a magical place called my grandma’s little purse. Yes, she used to carry her money and important papers in a funny-looking, snake-skinnish purse when she went to run errands. I don’t remember how I ended up inheriting it, but it became some kind of safe for me. I keep passports, SS cards, credit cards for emergencies, and other things. Amongst those “important” documents there is one thing I always think I should throw away, but I never do: an old plane ticket, the one I bought when I decided that I could conquer the world and move back to Canada by myself after my divorce. I look at that ticket and I feel the same fear-excitement I felt 6 years ago. It is a two-way ticket that didn’t get used to go back because I didn’t give up.

One of my recent online discoveries is Mike Lawson’s What Some Would Call Lies and he has a pretty good collection of what he calls Mirror Mantras. Today’s mantra made me think of that plane ticket. And because it’s awesome, I’m posting it here.

It caught my eye because it’s true. Some of us seem to think we can’t do or be what we want, or we don’t see our true potential. For me, moving back to Canada by myself was a huge step. I grew up being a very sheltered person, always with someone by my side either to tell me what to do, or do things for me. In the face of adversity I understood I couldn’t keep living like that and I had to face my fears… the biggest one: being alone. I thought I wasn’t strong, I thought I wasn’t brave, I thought I couldn’t do it. But then I changed my mind and I did what I had to do. In 6 years I was able to walk a path that has lead me to where I am right now and my life is nothing but wonderful.

So that old plane ticket is a reminder of all the things I’m capable of and I’m not ready to put it in the garbage just yet. But thankfully I now share my life with someone who reminds me of my potential every single day, so the ticket is just a nice memento.