Stereo Types

I've been seeing a chiropractor lately to fix a few things.  One of which entails taking a dietary supplement.  About the time I began taking this supplement I noticed I was running a tad hot.  Actually a lot hot.  Now, I am a woman of a certain age known for temperature instability.  However given the proximity of the onset with starting this supplement I asked my chiropractor if that was common.  She considered for a moment and then said it was possible with Type A people. 

"Wha???  I'm not a Type A."

She smiled and nodded in her gentle way and said I was.

Needless to say I had to tell everyone I knew about this new development.  Without exception everyone laughed.  Not that I was told I was a Type A, but that I didn't know I am a Type A.  Going so far as to say they probably wouldn't like me if I wasn't a Type A, because they are all Type A. 

Wha....

When did this happen?  Was there some Type-shifting occurance I'm forgetting?  How did I lose my grip on my Type B self?

To be honest, I haven't even entertained thoughts of personality types since I learned about them in high school in the 70's.  At the time it was a no-brainer.  Type B, through and through.  I remember a conversation with my sister Carol when I said "I'm pretty laid back" in describing my reaction to something.  Carol's reply was "Pam, I'm laid back, you're catatonic".  This from my sister who's mellow enough to be mistaken for a nice piece of Havarti.  Back then my nickname was Casual Pam for God's sake.  You can see how I would be disarmed by this new revelation.

Okay, so my life is a tad different now.  I'm self-employed.  As a CPA.  Some would say that alone puts me in Type A Land by default.  I discovered I like to organize things occasionally.  There's something very comforting about sitting down with a yellow legal pad and listing out tasks.  I don't understand why when the traffic light changes, all the cars can't start moving as one. 

Sigh~~this isn't looking good.

This morning I took an online quiz to determine if I am indeed a Type A.  The result -

You have several Type A traits.

(Read: "You really need to chill.")

Then I read about Type B traits.  I have plenty of them also.  So I am going with my own assessment.  I am a Stereo Type - both A & B.  I'm transmitting on both bands.  I'm a mixed drink. 

I'm okay dammit!

Okay, enough of that.  I don't have time for this nonsense.

Space

Size matters.  Less is best for me.  I prefer to inhabit smaller spaces.

As a child it was cardboard boxes.  I could fit a perfect world into a washing machine carton.  However happiness could be attained in three quarters the size. 

Yep, that'll do.

Currently I am in too large of a space.  Our home measures out to roughly 1600 square feet.  It has three bedrooms and two baths, a "living room" we fill with projects, a "family room" we spend waking hours in, a dining room we rarely use and my haven, the kitchen.  By world standards this is opulent.  By my countrymen's standards it's average.  Perhaps even "working class".  By my standards it's just too freaking big.  We use perhaps half of it.  We could thrive in half of that.

It's no wonder I find myself longing for our next adventure.  We are moving toward the life mobile.  Our time will be split between a 34 foot fifth-wheel

(Not our actual unit, but I don't have a

picture of ours and it's raining out.)

 and a 37 foot sailboat. 

Not ours - yet.

These will cube out to about 300+ and 200ish square feet respectively.  And in each we will be packing along our plumbing, electrical, and heating systems.  In the case of the boat, we will also share space with two propulsion systems - diesel motor and sail rig. 

When I am in our fifth wheel I can clean the whole magilla in a couple of hours.  I'm talking wiping walls, floors, washing windows, vacuuming and sanitizinng the toilet beyond reproach.  Everything has a place, and by God, it better be there.  It is a "kit".  It lives well.

Yes, I am aware that this screams Control Issues.  And no it doesn't bother me in the least.

Things.

A couple of weeks ago we had a garage sale.  The day before we emptied out our RV in order to consign it.  As a result of these two events, I have been wading in a sea of our things.  And Dave and I have said countless times to each other "They're just things.  Get rid of them." 

But I've found myself contemplating the nature of things.  As much as I don't like the idea, my things define me.  I've realized this while dealing with the many "thing thoughts" that hovered through my head in the past week.
"Why have I kept this thing?"
"Why did I buy this thing?"
"Who gave me this thing?"
"Oh I remember this thing!"
"I have no recollection of this thing, where did it come from?"
"My mom loved this thing..."
"Gotta keep this thing."


The answers can be telling.  At some point I felt the thing was worth parting with time, money, effort to acquire.  I thought it was a cool, necessary, useful thing.  It made me feel happy, prepared, equipped.  Then at some point some of those things became anchor things.  Next thing I know I feel like Gulliver, tied down by a bunch of little anchors.  Well he had the Lilliputin problem, but you get the picture.  Tied down is not a good place for someone who is happiest moving.  So, beloved and not so, some things are gonna go.

Who am I?

A little history.

I'm Pam.  I was named by my brother, Brad. He was 15 when I was born and not very happy about my arrival.  Think about it.  He was old enough to realize that my existence was evidence his parents were, in teenage parlance "EWWWWWWWWWWWW!"  So in my mother's wisdom she gave up her desire to name me after herself and let Brad name me.  He chose the name of the girl who's locker was next to his.

So I'm Pam.

I am the youngest of the four children born to Ralph and Barbara Crosby.  In addition to the aforementioned bookends, Brad and I, are my two wonderful sisters.  Nancy and Carol. 

I was raised in the San Francisco Bay Area, East Bay actually.  Walnut Creek to be exact.  It was a lovely burg back then in the sixties.  I used to play amongst plum and walnut trees where currently the 680 exits onto Olympic Blvd. 

Through a series of twists and turns, I now find myself in Medford, Oregon.  It's in southwestern Oregon.  It's kind of like Walnut Creek was.  It's a beautiful area that plays host to the wild and scenic Rogue River.  I live here with David, my best friend and husband since 1984.

Traditional "Having-a-great-time-wish-you-were-here" photo.

Together we've owned horses, played golf, camped, skied, ballroom danced...

These days we sail.  And share the care and feeding of the Dogi-lama, Simon.

Professionally, I'm a CPA.  I've been in partnership with the perfect business partner for 14 years now.  We share a common desire to cram our work into about three and half months of the year - tax season.  Easier said than done, but I'm working on it. 

Dreams and aspirations?  I've got a couple.  Currently Dave & I are actively working toward securing a mobile life.  We will sell our fixed home and split our time between rolling and floating homes.  The rolling home has been acquired, a 34 foot fifth wheel.  The boat will come when the house goes.  At this writing it will be a Cooper Seabird 37. 

I feel I've been blessed with the best friends I could ever hope for.  I am surrounded with people who are caring, fun, smart, fun, real.

I enjoy~
Cooking, sailing, reading, writing, friends, driving, walking, camping.  I am happiest when on the move.

Enough about me, who the heck are you?

Let's get this party started!

Okay, not really a party.  More of a discipline really.  As with many of the things I've enjoyed during my life, I've been avoiding writing for several years.  Oh, there's been the occasional limmerick here and there.  But no prose.  So this morning I committed myself to blogging.  Yes, I'm going to participate in the society of exhibitionist journalizing.  Bear with me as I stretch my fingers, mind and imagination.