So I'm applying for jobs. And after applying for jobs on and off non-stop over the past oh... FOUR YEARS... I'm kinda burned out on the whole job application thing.
But there's this guy whose specialty is helping folks get their careers going, and he has an awesome website that should give me some great tips to make me more successful this time around. And there's this job that just came open and sounds really perfect-- It's for a Communications Consultant at a local Community College. I'm so good at communicating, it's fugging AWESOME. And the application (all fifteen plus pages of it, including the short paragraph answers to each of eight different "describe this about your experience and training" questions) is due on Monday. Today is Saturday.
So I really need to get going on this. I want a job that keeps me excited and challenged, and that pays an actual living wage. I keep putting off applying for the housecleaning jobs because somehow, I really want a job that pays more than $10 an hour. Maybe my ego is getting in the way of my actually finding a job and working it again... but you know? I have a Master's Degree. And half of another Master's Degree. And I just came off six months of being the Executive Coordinator for a three-prong work project. Successfully. I deserve a high-paying high-responsibility job. I'd do well in a job like that, even.
Mostly, though, I know how hard it is to force myself out of bed every morning when I'm getting up for a job I don't like. And how hard it is to do a quality job on any daily tasks that I know your random stranger off the street could do just as well.
(insert brief pause and complete loss of mental track HERE when I am called to find housemate's keys, since I was the last one to see them-- when I pulled them from the outside door lock upon my return home this afternoon)
In other news, GB and I are discussing the logistics of moving in together. The most complicated bits seem to be internet access for yet another computer, and the fact that his housemate has two troublemaking teenage girl kitties, and I have one crochety declawed matronly girl kitty. And if we confine Abbigale strictly to his bedroom where they are not allowed, how will we keep her cat food away from the dog, while still making sure SHE can reach it, since she has arthritis and can't do a lot of jumping-- and the dog is rather tall. I think we'll figure out the whole computer thing. After all, GB used to set up cable systems for a living.
And, in the meantime, wish me luck on the job front. Again.
Showing posts with label Communication. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Communication. Show all posts
Saturday, December 12
Sunday, October 11
Granted
Last week was interesting. I feel confident that I can say YES-- I have a full time job now. I'm not so confident that I'll have it much longer if we don't find a way for the farm to produce some serious income in the middle of winter.
Technically, I'm the "Executive Coordinator" for the Farm, the Foundation, the Education programming that comes out of both, and to some degree also for the farm Community and Household. I asked the head of our Foundation Education Committee to look over the job descriptions that the three of us fleshed out for future reference, having filled in the details of what currently rests on my shoulders, and she said it was a perfect recipe for burnout. I agree.
Last week, I finally struggled through the last three days of writing and submitting a grant to the ubs govgt. The grant that may, in twelve months, pay for me to actually preserve, digitize, and web-ize the Foundation's Archive. You know, that job I was originally actually HIRED FOR six months ago. It's the first grant proposal I've ever written.
And boy-howdy was it a learning experience for the first one to be a govgt one! Before I could access the application packet, I had to apply for a DUNS number. And before I could apply for a DUNS number, there were one or two OTHER applications and passwords I had to request. Each of which took between 2 days and a week to get. And you can't skip steps.
Then, on the two days I'd set aside to write the grant, we first spent all day interviewing and meeting about our new Farm Manager (thank you god, she's on board for at least the next three months). The second day I spent doing last minute preparations for the Foundation Appreciation Dinner, and having conversations with my two team mates about the structure of our jobs so that I could, in fact, get on with my job without interference from She-Rex. Who-- I want to acknowledge-- is a vital and incredibly committed member of the team. I'm glad she's there. I just don't want her interfacing with clients. She has a tendency to make them run away.
So I set aside a day to work from home. And I did work from home all that day, but not on the grant. So I worked off the record the next day and a half-- on the grant. And I worked a full day (minus the two hours I spent meeting with the team because SR needed to make decisions about something that won't happen until next Spring) the day before the grant was due on pulling together the final application materials and the budget, and getting signatures where they were needed.
The day the application was due, my day off, I discovered that there was an ADDITIONAL APPLICATION FORM that was only available online, and that my computer operating system was too old to let me open. And then I spent the day at GB's house on HIS computer, swearing and filling out forms online. Then I discovered that the Budget Form (which is on a different website from the application form and application download site) can only be filled out online, and can't be saved once you fill it out, and has to be uploaded to the application download site, which you can only do if it's saved to your computer. AAAAAAARRRGHH!
I over came that hurdle, and got all the way to the place where you finally get to hit SUBMIT... only to discover that one must have a login and password to submit anything. WTF?
So I tried the first login and password I'd had to sign up for waaay back when I was applying for the fricken DUNS number. And was told no, that's wrong, and you have two more tries before we lock you and your application out of our system. Shit.
So I tried the second login and password I'd had to sign up for waay back when I was trying to get signed up to apply for this fricken grant. And was told, no, that's wrong, and you have one more try. Neener Neener Poopoo Head.
Okay.
So I called the govgt grant offices at 6:15pm Eastern Time for help, and SOMEONE HELPED ME!!!! She told me how to sign up for the login that lets you actually submit the grant application. And she stayed on the phone with me while I did it. And it only took two minutes instead of two weeks. And then I submitted my grant proposal, with three hours to spare before the deadline.
OMFG!!!
That was Tuesday. On Wednesday, I worked. On Thursday, I did accounts and worked and prepped for the Teacher Fair on Friday that I had a booth at, and organized a couple of new orders for our Big City Contingent of Dairy Buyers.
On Friday, I spent all day at the Teacher Fair, getting us tons of potential new Education Field-Trip Clients, and networking with other museums and historical sites in the area.
On Saturday, my one day off this weekend, I got an email that totally blew all my work with the Dairy Contingent out of the water, and basically put me in a position where the Dairy Contingent will probably not want to work with me because they don't think I know what I'm talking about. It was an email sent by my boss to me, the dairy contingent, and SR. I still don't know why SR got the email, as she's made it clear she wants nothing further to do with the dairy or the goats.
So I sent a not-happy email to my boss, explaining the effect of her email on my ability to help her with the Dairy Orders in the foreseeable future. Hard to help when nobody believes a word you say, non? And then I spent the rest of the day trying to pack and sort some of my stuff, and cleaning house, because it needs it.
Today, Sunday, I go to work again. We have a Foundation Board Meeting, and I have to arrive early so that I can prepare the materials and reports necessary for that meeting, and find out if I still have a job after the email I sent my boss.
Talk about your recipe for burn out! ...sigh... And I really love my work and this farm. So I really hope we overcome some of these challenges soon.
Well, that's all from Lake Woebegone this week, where all the women are strong, the men are good-looking, and all the children are above average.
Technically, I'm the "Executive Coordinator" for the Farm, the Foundation, the Education programming that comes out of both, and to some degree also for the farm Community and Household. I asked the head of our Foundation Education Committee to look over the job descriptions that the three of us fleshed out for future reference, having filled in the details of what currently rests on my shoulders, and she said it was a perfect recipe for burnout. I agree.
Last week, I finally struggled through the last three days of writing and submitting a grant to the ubs govgt. The grant that may, in twelve months, pay for me to actually preserve, digitize, and web-ize the Foundation's Archive. You know, that job I was originally actually HIRED FOR six months ago. It's the first grant proposal I've ever written.
And boy-howdy was it a learning experience for the first one to be a govgt one! Before I could access the application packet, I had to apply for a DUNS number. And before I could apply for a DUNS number, there were one or two OTHER applications and passwords I had to request. Each of which took between 2 days and a week to get. And you can't skip steps.
Then, on the two days I'd set aside to write the grant, we first spent all day interviewing and meeting about our new Farm Manager (thank you god, she's on board for at least the next three months). The second day I spent doing last minute preparations for the Foundation Appreciation Dinner, and having conversations with my two team mates about the structure of our jobs so that I could, in fact, get on with my job without interference from She-Rex. Who-- I want to acknowledge-- is a vital and incredibly committed member of the team. I'm glad she's there. I just don't want her interfacing with clients. She has a tendency to make them run away.
So I set aside a day to work from home. And I did work from home all that day, but not on the grant. So I worked off the record the next day and a half-- on the grant. And I worked a full day (minus the two hours I spent meeting with the team because SR needed to make decisions about something that won't happen until next Spring) the day before the grant was due on pulling together the final application materials and the budget, and getting signatures where they were needed.
The day the application was due, my day off, I discovered that there was an ADDITIONAL APPLICATION FORM that was only available online, and that my computer operating system was too old to let me open. And then I spent the day at GB's house on HIS computer, swearing and filling out forms online. Then I discovered that the Budget Form (which is on a different website from the application form and application download site) can only be filled out online, and can't be saved once you fill it out, and has to be uploaded to the application download site, which you can only do if it's saved to your computer. AAAAAAARRRGHH!
I over came that hurdle, and got all the way to the place where you finally get to hit SUBMIT... only to discover that one must have a login and password to submit anything. WTF?
So I tried the first login and password I'd had to sign up for waaay back when I was applying for the fricken DUNS number. And was told no, that's wrong, and you have two more tries before we lock you and your application out of our system. Shit.
So I tried the second login and password I'd had to sign up for waay back when I was trying to get signed up to apply for this fricken grant. And was told, no, that's wrong, and you have one more try. Neener Neener Poopoo Head.
Okay.
So I called the govgt grant offices at 6:15pm Eastern Time for help, and SOMEONE HELPED ME!!!! She told me how to sign up for the login that lets you actually submit the grant application. And she stayed on the phone with me while I did it. And it only took two minutes instead of two weeks. And then I submitted my grant proposal, with three hours to spare before the deadline.
OMFG!!!
That was Tuesday. On Wednesday, I worked. On Thursday, I did accounts and worked and prepped for the Teacher Fair on Friday that I had a booth at, and organized a couple of new orders for our Big City Contingent of Dairy Buyers.
On Friday, I spent all day at the Teacher Fair, getting us tons of potential new Education Field-Trip Clients, and networking with other museums and historical sites in the area.
On Saturday, my one day off this weekend, I got an email that totally blew all my work with the Dairy Contingent out of the water, and basically put me in a position where the Dairy Contingent will probably not want to work with me because they don't think I know what I'm talking about. It was an email sent by my boss to me, the dairy contingent, and SR. I still don't know why SR got the email, as she's made it clear she wants nothing further to do with the dairy or the goats.
So I sent a not-happy email to my boss, explaining the effect of her email on my ability to help her with the Dairy Orders in the foreseeable future. Hard to help when nobody believes a word you say, non? And then I spent the rest of the day trying to pack and sort some of my stuff, and cleaning house, because it needs it.
Today, Sunday, I go to work again. We have a Foundation Board Meeting, and I have to arrive early so that I can prepare the materials and reports necessary for that meeting, and find out if I still have a job after the email I sent my boss.
Talk about your recipe for burn out! ...sigh... And I really love my work and this farm. So I really hope we overcome some of these challenges soon.
Well, that's all from Lake Woebegone this week, where all the women are strong, the men are good-looking, and all the children are above average.
Wednesday, July 15
It's Own Self
Funny thing... I stopped trying to guess what would make others happy, stopped trying to control outcomes, and started simply stating my personal preferences directly as the day unfolded... And the outcomes started taking care of themselves. Today has been a wonderful day.
Had an awesome breakfast with GB around lunch time. Ordered what sounded good to me instead of worrying about the price. Acknowledged that I wasn't interested in watching one of his favorite shows-- knowing he can watch it when it replays on Friday. Was therefore not resentful about the time we spent watching TV. Petted cats for a while because they needed to be petted. Felt no need to justify my priorities to anyone.
Cleaned out my entire car in anticipation of lots of family and luggage fitting into it on Friday (yay!). Stopped worrying about identity theft and recycling and finally threw that huge-ass bag of junk mail in the trash. Ate a few bites of ice cream to cool me down. Cleaned out the plastic leftover food containers bin with my housemate like I've been promising to do for the last few months. Now everything that's left has a fitting lid, and the door to the bin actually closes. YAY!!!
Cooked the little organic corns from the food box, and had some really yummy greens (courtesy of my awesome roomie!!) Because I wanted greens, and I've been drooling in anticipation of that corn for nearly a week now... Decided not to stress that GB was late for our double-dinner-date with his friends I'd never met before... Only tried on two shirts in the process of getting ready. (And if I hadn't sweated out the one I had on, I'd have been ready to go just as I was. No more vacillating in front of the mirror as I try to look like the right kind of girlfriend. I'm me. Isn't that enough?!) Decided to send him a reminder text when he still didn't show up because I wanted to know what was going on. Good decision, as he'd gotten sucked into the world wide web, and was totally lost to reality 20 minutes after he'd planned to let me know he was on his way. Decided to read up about healthy relationships while I waited for him to finish getting ready and come pick me up for our double date.
Decided it is his worry and not mine if we are half an hour late the first time I meet his friends. Failed to worry. Had a total blast with GB and his friends at a really yummy bar with fuzzy black wall paper and the Kentucky Fried Colonel's photo in the place of honor over the restroom hallway. Felt just fine eating-but-n0t-drinking in a punked-out restaurant-bar. Had a good conversation about friendship and friends with GB after we took his awesome friends back to their apartment. Kicked him out when I started getting sleepy. Wrote a blog post about my day.
Started the laundry, and went to bed early enough that I won't be tired when I drive out to the Farm tomorrow morning. At least, that's the plan. Really, when I decided to make sure *I* was enjoying my life, life suddenly became so much easier to enjoy!
I think sometimes when you stop struggling to make the flow go your way, and just go with the flow that's already inside you... the rest takes care of itself.
Had an awesome breakfast with GB around lunch time. Ordered what sounded good to me instead of worrying about the price. Acknowledged that I wasn't interested in watching one of his favorite shows-- knowing he can watch it when it replays on Friday. Was therefore not resentful about the time we spent watching TV. Petted cats for a while because they needed to be petted. Felt no need to justify my priorities to anyone.
Cleaned out my entire car in anticipation of lots of family and luggage fitting into it on Friday (yay!). Stopped worrying about identity theft and recycling and finally threw that huge-ass bag of junk mail in the trash. Ate a few bites of ice cream to cool me down. Cleaned out the plastic leftover food containers bin with my housemate like I've been promising to do for the last few months. Now everything that's left has a fitting lid, and the door to the bin actually closes. YAY!!!
Cooked the little organic corns from the food box, and had some really yummy greens (courtesy of my awesome roomie!!) Because I wanted greens, and I've been drooling in anticipation of that corn for nearly a week now... Decided not to stress that GB was late for our double-dinner-date with his friends I'd never met before... Only tried on two shirts in the process of getting ready. (And if I hadn't sweated out the one I had on, I'd have been ready to go just as I was. No more vacillating in front of the mirror as I try to look like the right kind of girlfriend. I'm me. Isn't that enough?!) Decided to send him a reminder text when he still didn't show up because I wanted to know what was going on. Good decision, as he'd gotten sucked into the world wide web, and was totally lost to reality 20 minutes after he'd planned to let me know he was on his way. Decided to read up about healthy relationships while I waited for him to finish getting ready and come pick me up for our double date.
Decided it is his worry and not mine if we are half an hour late the first time I meet his friends. Failed to worry. Had a total blast with GB and his friends at a really yummy bar with fuzzy black wall paper and the Kentucky Fried Colonel's photo in the place of honor over the restroom hallway. Felt just fine eating-but-n0t-drinking in a punked-out restaurant-bar. Had a good conversation about friendship and friends with GB after we took his awesome friends back to their apartment. Kicked him out when I started getting sleepy. Wrote a blog post about my day.
Started the laundry, and went to bed early enough that I won't be tired when I drive out to the Farm tomorrow morning. At least, that's the plan. Really, when I decided to make sure *I* was enjoying my life, life suddenly became so much easier to enjoy!
I think sometimes when you stop struggling to make the flow go your way, and just go with the flow that's already inside you... the rest takes care of itself.
Tuesday, July 14
Vulnerabilities
My copy of "Truth In Dating" by Susan M. Campbell went missing a couple of months ago, so I borrowed a copy from the library. Now it's due back because someone else put a hold on it. Probably someone I've recommended the book to. It's a really great book, for ANY person-to-person relationship, be it work, family, friends, or actual dating scenarios. I highly recommend it. Often.
So I'm sitting here contemplating the return trip to the library, and I flipped the book open to a page about being vulnerable. It's a very relevant page for me right now, because I've been feeling rather vulnerable the past few days for no reason I could find. I've also been trying to put my finger on a lingering concern I had yet to define in my dating relationship.
So what is my big vulnerability? Besides my fear of asking for more than someone has to give me? And why haven't I shared that with GB? What is it that's about ME, regardless of the relationship I'm in? Well-- I realize that I have a deep fear of being disposable. That I've started to resent the people who like to talk, but don't make time to listen. And I don't tend to share that bit of angst when it comes up. I know how important a good listener can be, and I am very very good at listening.
So many people in my world-- for the past twenty years or so-- They seek out my company when they are working on a big life change. When they need counsel or a leg up or just someone to listen and love them anyway. And when they get what they need to move forward with their lives, they spread their wings and fly away... until next time. That's part of why I finally opened an office. Why it's been so hard to give notice and close the office down again. I wanted to create a category in my life for the folks I support, so that I would be less likely to expect them to support me in return. It's not the way those relationships work.
It's a pattern I've known about for years, but I hadn't thought about it in a while. And I used to work hard at clarifying which were my fly-away friends, and which were my solid and constant friends who actually want to be there for ME on a regular basis, too. The folks who make time for me and appreciate more about me than my ability to support them. Because there is a lot more to me than the fact that I'm a good listener who helps others become the people they want to be. Guess I haven't paid enough attention to that lately.
From there I went back to thinking about my current relationship with GB. I realized that (from my perspective) my biggest function with him seems to be as a good listener, and as a catalyst for him to lead the life he has wanted to grow into for so long. And as much as I'm honored to fill that role for him, it makes me feel disposable. I'm just waiting for him to get what he needs and fly away like so many others do. And a big part of me wants to feel that the man I'm dating finds me interesting and fun and enjoyable and special for who I am and what I've done in my life-- and not just what I do for him. Anybody can listen.
Granted, I'm making a big assumption of what he likes or appreciates or even what he knows about me. But when my interest in watching "Warehouse 13" shocked him, because he was interested in it, too, and he hasn't been interested in watching anything else I like... I had to acknowledge just how little he does know (or find interesting) about me. And I'm not sure how to fix that. I mean, he's considerate, and observant, and works to remember any preferences I express. He's a good listener when I open my mouth and talk, and he's totally supportive when I let him know about a challenge I'm facing in my life. He respects me, and he appreciates my input. But that's the rub-- I share bits of his life with him... but I don't know how to get this awesome guy who I really like to share bits of my life with me. I think I'm pretty unique and have a lot of interesting stories to share, if given the opportunity. Clearly, it's something *I* have to work on. Making opportunities. And not just with GB.
For now, I've decided that a return to my original game plan of dating would be a good morale booster for me. And that's got to be my priority. Me. So when I go over to his place tonight, I'm going to wear the most outrageously "ME" clothing I own, (You are, by the way, reading the blog of a woman who wore poofy purple genie pants and a dragon medallion in high school, had a very tall "mohawk" buzz cut for a few months in college, cox'd for the West Poignt men's crew team, lived for several years as the perfect little Army Wife, has prophetic dreams, works as an Archival Librarian on a woman-run organic goat farm, and daydreams of riding motorcycles at high speeds.) and I'm going to bring a movie I want to watch for once! I'm going to be sassy and strong and demanding, and just get what I want for myself-- and let the boy worry about keeping up with me for a change. (--this was the original dating plan, btw) If he wants to stay with me, he's going to have to form functional relationship with ALL parts of who I am, prove he doesn't scare easy, and not just interact with the safe and supportive bits of me that I've been putting out there for him lately.
Yes, I'm pretty and sweet and I don't cheat, but there's a hell of a lot more to me than that!
...should be fun...
So I'm sitting here contemplating the return trip to the library, and I flipped the book open to a page about being vulnerable. It's a very relevant page for me right now, because I've been feeling rather vulnerable the past few days for no reason I could find. I've also been trying to put my finger on a lingering concern I had yet to define in my dating relationship.
So what is my big vulnerability? Besides my fear of asking for more than someone has to give me? And why haven't I shared that with GB? What is it that's about ME, regardless of the relationship I'm in? Well-- I realize that I have a deep fear of being disposable. That I've started to resent the people who like to talk, but don't make time to listen. And I don't tend to share that bit of angst when it comes up. I know how important a good listener can be, and I am very very good at listening.
So many people in my world-- for the past twenty years or so-- They seek out my company when they are working on a big life change. When they need counsel or a leg up or just someone to listen and love them anyway. And when they get what they need to move forward with their lives, they spread their wings and fly away... until next time. That's part of why I finally opened an office. Why it's been so hard to give notice and close the office down again. I wanted to create a category in my life for the folks I support, so that I would be less likely to expect them to support me in return. It's not the way those relationships work.
It's a pattern I've known about for years, but I hadn't thought about it in a while. And I used to work hard at clarifying which were my fly-away friends, and which were my solid and constant friends who actually want to be there for ME on a regular basis, too. The folks who make time for me and appreciate more about me than my ability to support them. Because there is a lot more to me than the fact that I'm a good listener who helps others become the people they want to be. Guess I haven't paid enough attention to that lately.
From there I went back to thinking about my current relationship with GB. I realized that (from my perspective) my biggest function with him seems to be as a good listener, and as a catalyst for him to lead the life he has wanted to grow into for so long. And as much as I'm honored to fill that role for him, it makes me feel disposable. I'm just waiting for him to get what he needs and fly away like so many others do. And a big part of me wants to feel that the man I'm dating finds me interesting and fun and enjoyable and special for who I am and what I've done in my life-- and not just what I do for him. Anybody can listen.
Granted, I'm making a big assumption of what he likes or appreciates or even what he knows about me. But when my interest in watching "Warehouse 13" shocked him, because he was interested in it, too, and he hasn't been interested in watching anything else I like... I had to acknowledge just how little he does know (or find interesting) about me. And I'm not sure how to fix that. I mean, he's considerate, and observant, and works to remember any preferences I express. He's a good listener when I open my mouth and talk, and he's totally supportive when I let him know about a challenge I'm facing in my life. He respects me, and he appreciates my input. But that's the rub-- I share bits of his life with him... but I don't know how to get this awesome guy who I really like to share bits of my life with me. I think I'm pretty unique and have a lot of interesting stories to share, if given the opportunity. Clearly, it's something *I* have to work on. Making opportunities. And not just with GB.
For now, I've decided that a return to my original game plan of dating would be a good morale booster for me. And that's got to be my priority. Me. So when I go over to his place tonight, I'm going to wear the most outrageously "ME" clothing I own, (You are, by the way, reading the blog of a woman who wore poofy purple genie pants and a dragon medallion in high school, had a very tall "mohawk" buzz cut for a few months in college, cox'd for the West Poignt men's crew team, lived for several years as the perfect little Army Wife, has prophetic dreams, works as an Archival Librarian on a woman-run organic goat farm, and daydreams of riding motorcycles at high speeds.) and I'm going to bring a movie I want to watch for once! I'm going to be sassy and strong and demanding, and just get what I want for myself-- and let the boy worry about keeping up with me for a change. (--this was the original dating plan, btw) If he wants to stay with me, he's going to have to form functional relationship with ALL parts of who I am, prove he doesn't scare easy, and not just interact with the safe and supportive bits of me that I've been putting out there for him lately.
Yes, I'm pretty and sweet and I don't cheat, but there's a hell of a lot more to me than that!
...should be fun...
Saturday, June 27
Chewing
Today, I sent out two majorly awesome job applications. I feel good about my qualifications for the positions, feel good about the positions themselves, and feel good about my cover letter etc in relation to applying for the positions.
However, I also notice I'm back to chewing my fingernails. Which I haven't done in nearly two months now. And I sent out two or three TOTALPANIC emails to people who I think of as mentors... in a very unprofessional way... after midnight last night, when I was still working on that awesome cover letter and freaking out about who to use as references. I'm sort of hoping they just hit delete. Because *I* don't want to go back and read what insane freaky things I wrote to them in my sudden exhausted and financially unstable need for reassurance late last night.
Sigh...
Sometimes the internet is a little TOO instantaneous.
However, I also notice I'm back to chewing my fingernails. Which I haven't done in nearly two months now. And I sent out two or three TOTALPANIC emails to people who I think of as mentors... in a very unprofessional way... after midnight last night, when I was still working on that awesome cover letter and freaking out about who to use as references. I'm sort of hoping they just hit delete. Because *I* don't want to go back and read what insane freaky things I wrote to them in my sudden exhausted and financially unstable need for reassurance late last night.
Sigh...
Sometimes the internet is a little TOO instantaneous.
Sunday, May 3
Gone Fishin
So, having decided I'm ready to date... and being a woman of action...
I've informed my friends I'm available to be set up (in a good way). And then I joined a dating site. Well, actually, I joined TWO dating sites. And the first thing I learned was that the free ones work just as well as the costly ones (I'm not paying, thank you). The second thing I learned was that dating websites are popular BY REGION. So the one that works for my bff in Philly just ain't cutting it here in my neck of the Western Woods.
HOWEVER, there's another free one that my awesome housemate introduced me to, and It's called PlentyofFish. Aptly named. And then I discovered that there are RULES. UNWRITTEN RULES about using dating websites. Like-- the boys I'm emailing with all asked me a deeper relationship question ON THE FOURTH EMAIL, so apparently three good exchanges are the magic number. And boys may ask lots of leading questions about places you like to go and things you like to do... but they don't actually ask you to DO ANY OF THEM. And on the public conversation threads, questions for girls to answer are actually answered JUST AS OFTEN BY BOYS. They just don't read directions, do they. And not only that, but the boys who come across via email as "shy" seem to have gotten favorable rating stars on their profiles more often than boys who come across as Lotharios or jocks. You know how it goes-- the quiet ones usually have a lot more going on than the braggarts.
Luckily, I also got some great advice, and some great pumping up of my ego, from two of my favorite male friends, before I went fishing for boys on the interweb. And, they tell me that since THEY are boys, too, their advice is very good indeed.
So, per the advice of happily married male experts everywhere, I am being a bit selfish, very self-confident, and I am calling all the shots MY WAY. It's quite fun.
And as a result, I am now looking forward to meeting someone (who sounds really cool, very intelligent, and has an awesome motorcycle and a really cool job fighting fires and setting up aid stations after natural disasters) in a very public place to walk, talk, and find out what kind of vibe I get from him in person-- later this week. And this is after telling him I'm divorced and I'm worried about his self-esteem. Nice, huh?
I've also been invited on a hike by another nice-sounding local man, who is definitely in better shape than I am, and has now reassured me TWICE that he grew up in a household where his mom worked and his dad raised the kids, and so he's really into equality. But I'm going to run that one by some friends first. It's not as public as I'd like for a first meeting. But it's a hike I've never done in an area I told him I like hiking, and he's already made two other semi-suggestions that I vetoed. I'm really glad he keeps trying. He sounds nice. And that's to say nothing of Kirk, who lives on a farm and raises organic wheat grass for smoothies. He's shy.
The rest of the advice, which I'm keeping carefully in mind-- per my tendency to care a lot about others' well-being-- is that apparently, it is good for boys to cry into their beers over a woman once in a while. And that I'm worth going to a lot of trouble for.
Whyever it is, this advice TOTALLY freed me from guilt, worry, or nerves while "fishing." And I expect it to continue to serve me well in actual meetings with boys, and even potential SECOND MEETINGS WITH BOYS. (Look out, Trouble! I'm coming to visit, and somebody else is paying the tab!!) I love my friends.
The most bizarre thing I've learned about dating websites is that 90% of the men on them (at least in my age group) are divorced, and 75% of those have their kids on alternating weekends. Don't know why that surprised me so much... All these divorced men with kids in their early thirties.
And I find that while I'm not sure I want to make babies of my own, I don't mind the idea of occasional visits from other peoples' babies. And I have more respect for the guys who put it RIGHT OUT FRONT that whoever dates them has to understand that their kids come first. As well they should, I say! However, I'm also just as glad that the two guys I'm probably going to meet soonest don't have kids. Or so they tell me.
And the photo I used on my profile? It's of me on the beach in the middle of winter. I'm bundled head-to-toe, but I'm also totally happy because I'm on the beach. So these guys aren't picking me for my bra size. I'm sneaky like that.
So, you know, adventures in dating. I'll keep you posted.
I've informed my friends I'm available to be set up (in a good way). And then I joined a dating site. Well, actually, I joined TWO dating sites. And the first thing I learned was that the free ones work just as well as the costly ones (I'm not paying, thank you). The second thing I learned was that dating websites are popular BY REGION. So the one that works for my bff in Philly just ain't cutting it here in my neck of the Western Woods.
HOWEVER, there's another free one that my awesome housemate introduced me to, and It's called PlentyofFish. Aptly named. And then I discovered that there are RULES. UNWRITTEN RULES about using dating websites. Like-- the boys I'm emailing with all asked me a deeper relationship question ON THE FOURTH EMAIL, so apparently three good exchanges are the magic number. And boys may ask lots of leading questions about places you like to go and things you like to do... but they don't actually ask you to DO ANY OF THEM. And on the public conversation threads, questions for girls to answer are actually answered JUST AS OFTEN BY BOYS. They just don't read directions, do they. And not only that, but the boys who come across via email as "shy" seem to have gotten favorable rating stars on their profiles more often than boys who come across as Lotharios or jocks. You know how it goes-- the quiet ones usually have a lot more going on than the braggarts.
Luckily, I also got some great advice, and some great pumping up of my ego, from two of my favorite male friends, before I went fishing for boys on the interweb. And, they tell me that since THEY are boys, too, their advice is very good indeed.
So, per the advice of happily married male experts everywhere, I am being a bit selfish, very self-confident, and I am calling all the shots MY WAY. It's quite fun.
And as a result, I am now looking forward to meeting someone (who sounds really cool, very intelligent, and has an awesome motorcycle and a really cool job fighting fires and setting up aid stations after natural disasters) in a very public place to walk, talk, and find out what kind of vibe I get from him in person-- later this week. And this is after telling him I'm divorced and I'm worried about his self-esteem. Nice, huh?
I've also been invited on a hike by another nice-sounding local man, who is definitely in better shape than I am, and has now reassured me TWICE that he grew up in a household where his mom worked and his dad raised the kids, and so he's really into equality. But I'm going to run that one by some friends first. It's not as public as I'd like for a first meeting. But it's a hike I've never done in an area I told him I like hiking, and he's already made two other semi-suggestions that I vetoed. I'm really glad he keeps trying. He sounds nice. And that's to say nothing of Kirk, who lives on a farm and raises organic wheat grass for smoothies. He's shy.
The rest of the advice, which I'm keeping carefully in mind-- per my tendency to care a lot about others' well-being-- is that apparently, it is good for boys to cry into their beers over a woman once in a while. And that I'm worth going to a lot of trouble for.
Whyever it is, this advice TOTALLY freed me from guilt, worry, or nerves while "fishing." And I expect it to continue to serve me well in actual meetings with boys, and even potential SECOND MEETINGS WITH BOYS. (Look out, Trouble! I'm coming to visit, and somebody else is paying the tab!!) I love my friends.
The most bizarre thing I've learned about dating websites is that 90% of the men on them (at least in my age group) are divorced, and 75% of those have their kids on alternating weekends. Don't know why that surprised me so much... All these divorced men with kids in their early thirties.
And I find that while I'm not sure I want to make babies of my own, I don't mind the idea of occasional visits from other peoples' babies. And I have more respect for the guys who put it RIGHT OUT FRONT that whoever dates them has to understand that their kids come first. As well they should, I say! However, I'm also just as glad that the two guys I'm probably going to meet soonest don't have kids. Or so they tell me.
And the photo I used on my profile? It's of me on the beach in the middle of winter. I'm bundled head-to-toe, but I'm also totally happy because I'm on the beach. So these guys aren't picking me for my bra size. I'm sneaky like that.
So, you know, adventures in dating. I'll keep you posted.
Saturday, April 18
Communi-Que?
Can I just tell you how much I love my writing group? And also Crazy Aunt Purl. And possibly a few other folks as well, but I haven't gotten very far in catching up on my emails lately, so I'll have to get back to you on that.
The e-correspondence for my writing group over the past few days looked something like this:
J: I think we're down two people this week, so probably that makes eight, plus the two of us who lead the writing group, so I think you need to bring ten copies of your work this week. But I could be wrong. (actually, she meant eight INCLUDING the two leaders, but five people showed up, plus the two leaders, so that made seven)
H: Sorry I missed y'all, but I had car problems, and I'm looking forward to next week.
D: Well, we all voted, and GOOD NEWS! Everybody except R decided to give you one last chance!
H: Where does R live?
(insert shark music here!)
D: Under the Chevy's downtown.
R: Hah! Joke's on you, D. I moved out from under the Chevy's as soon as you tracked me down. Well, actually, I just moved in deeper to avoid all the rats... And H? I misunderstood the vote. I thought we were voting to give you one last dance, and I didn't think it was fair that you were the only one getting to dance. Sorry.
H: Too late, R. Sleep with one eye open.
J: Oh, and thanks to H and D for giving me more background info on R when I give his intro at the Reading Event tonight!
OMFG-- I think I nearly coughed up a lung from laughing too hard with a head cold!
I realized why these folks are so helpful and so much fun when I bring in bits of my own story to read to them every Wednesday night. Then I read the latest blog entry for Crazy Aunt Purl. Again-- laughter can be such a healing medicine! I can't believe-- and yet I so CAN believe-- that she wrote a note to her auto mechanic while he was serving time "up north" because she had a question about converting her jeep from gas to vegetable oil (or maybe cat poop, since she has a ready supply of it).
Maybe I'm not so crazy for volunteering to help muck out a stable at a local farm just so I can see what farmlife is like-- and for writing that email that said, "Wow, you guys are cool! and also, if you are looking to hire a librarian with social skills, I'm available." to a local green home building company I found online.
In other news, I recently had an interview with a big city library system, so I could get on the list of folks they'll notify if they decide to accept applications for any open positions in their libraries. I was actually rather concerned that I'd flopped. Ninety minutes of interview, including a pointed grilling on my complete lack of knowledge about practical adult reference services, a book-talk presentation I put together with a teen audience in mind (I actually used a really cool hip word the interviewers didn't know-- don't tell them I made it up, k?), and an outline for a toddler storyhour, including a five-minute sample of my "storytime reading skills." I knew I represented myself and my skills fairly accurately... But I also know those skills are getting rusty with disuse, and it shows.
Imagine my joy and utter amazement to finally check email this afternoon, and find that I've qualified for ALL THREE AREAS of reference services-- adult, teen, and children. WAHOO!! Of course, now I'm waiting around to hear of any job openings that come up, and that they decide they'd like me to apply for. But I was impressed by the library system and the teen book selection there. I think I'd enjoy working for them, and I'm actually hoping to hear back soon.
You never know. Stranger things have definitely happened.
The e-correspondence for my writing group over the past few days looked something like this:
J: I think we're down two people this week, so probably that makes eight, plus the two of us who lead the writing group, so I think you need to bring ten copies of your work this week. But I could be wrong. (actually, she meant eight INCLUDING the two leaders, but five people showed up, plus the two leaders, so that made seven)
H: Sorry I missed y'all, but I had car problems, and I'm looking forward to next week.
D: Well, we all voted, and GOOD NEWS! Everybody except R decided to give you one last chance!
H: Where does R live?
(insert shark music here!)
D: Under the Chevy's downtown.
R: Hah! Joke's on you, D. I moved out from under the Chevy's as soon as you tracked me down. Well, actually, I just moved in deeper to avoid all the rats... And H? I misunderstood the vote. I thought we were voting to give you one last dance, and I didn't think it was fair that you were the only one getting to dance. Sorry.
H: Too late, R. Sleep with one eye open.
J: Oh, and thanks to H and D for giving me more background info on R when I give his intro at the Reading Event tonight!
OMFG-- I think I nearly coughed up a lung from laughing too hard with a head cold!
I realized why these folks are so helpful and so much fun when I bring in bits of my own story to read to them every Wednesday night. Then I read the latest blog entry for Crazy Aunt Purl. Again-- laughter can be such a healing medicine! I can't believe-- and yet I so CAN believe-- that she wrote a note to her auto mechanic while he was serving time "up north" because she had a question about converting her jeep from gas to vegetable oil (or maybe cat poop, since she has a ready supply of it).
Maybe I'm not so crazy for volunteering to help muck out a stable at a local farm just so I can see what farmlife is like-- and for writing that email that said, "Wow, you guys are cool! and also, if you are looking to hire a librarian with social skills, I'm available." to a local green home building company I found online.
In other news, I recently had an interview with a big city library system, so I could get on the list of folks they'll notify if they decide to accept applications for any open positions in their libraries. I was actually rather concerned that I'd flopped. Ninety minutes of interview, including a pointed grilling on my complete lack of knowledge about practical adult reference services, a book-talk presentation I put together with a teen audience in mind (I actually used a really cool hip word the interviewers didn't know-- don't tell them I made it up, k?), and an outline for a toddler storyhour, including a five-minute sample of my "storytime reading skills." I knew I represented myself and my skills fairly accurately... But I also know those skills are getting rusty with disuse, and it shows.
Imagine my joy and utter amazement to finally check email this afternoon, and find that I've qualified for ALL THREE AREAS of reference services-- adult, teen, and children. WAHOO!! Of course, now I'm waiting around to hear of any job openings that come up, and that they decide they'd like me to apply for. But I was impressed by the library system and the teen book selection there. I think I'd enjoy working for them, and I'm actually hoping to hear back soon.
You never know. Stranger things have definitely happened.
Wednesday, November 19
T is for Timid
Haleleujia Brother! I am here to comfort the sinner, and return the stray man to the Pope. Let him whose...
ever see the movie "Cat Balou" ... a lot? It was one of my favorites for about six months there somewhere in the dank depths of my pre-teen weirdness. I don't know if it explains something, or makes me even scarier... but it's TRUE.
And today, I am here to tell you that it is HARD. HARD. HARD to communicate to people in the office without stepping on landmines of the shitastrophic variety. Land mines. In the office. Hidden. Evil. ...or, to quote an office-mate of mine who happened to be talking about the way my email made her feel about our relationship... Icky.
Yes. I made the mistake of letting her know that I was getting frustrated after her sixth attempt to reschedule me to a new time and/or date for an appointment. Even spread out over the two appointments we tried to set, that's pushing it. But she didn't ask for feedback, or maybe the moon is in Saturn again, or maybe she'd just been told the same thing by a REAL client, and not just the upstart new office-mate who was doing a trade-- my services for hers-- and it rubbed her the wrong way.
Sigh. I decided that rather than jeopardize my comfort (and everyone else's) while working in the office we all share, I'd take full responsibility for our "miscommunication" and apologize.
A lot.
I think she has forgiven me, and decided to move magnanimously forward without holding any bad feelings for how I insulted her. I am grateful, Yogisan. I am also going to write scathing criticisms of the Icky in the Office Communication Network on my private blog-- because it makes me feel a little bit better about things.
Sad, but True. Just like my pre-teen fascination with corny Westerns with wimpy female leads.
ever see the movie "Cat Balou" ... a lot? It was one of my favorites for about six months there somewhere in the dank depths of my pre-teen weirdness. I don't know if it explains something, or makes me even scarier... but it's TRUE.
And today, I am here to tell you that it is HARD. HARD. HARD to communicate to people in the office without stepping on landmines of the shitastrophic variety. Land mines. In the office. Hidden. Evil. ...or, to quote an office-mate of mine who happened to be talking about the way my email made her feel about our relationship... Icky.
Yes. I made the mistake of letting her know that I was getting frustrated after her sixth attempt to reschedule me to a new time and/or date for an appointment. Even spread out over the two appointments we tried to set, that's pushing it. But she didn't ask for feedback, or maybe the moon is in Saturn again, or maybe she'd just been told the same thing by a REAL client, and not just the upstart new office-mate who was doing a trade-- my services for hers-- and it rubbed her the wrong way.
Sigh. I decided that rather than jeopardize my comfort (and everyone else's) while working in the office we all share, I'd take full responsibility for our "miscommunication" and apologize.
A lot.
I think she has forgiven me, and decided to move magnanimously forward without holding any bad feelings for how I insulted her. I am grateful, Yogisan. I am also going to write scathing criticisms of the Icky in the Office Communication Network on my private blog-- because it makes me feel a little bit better about things.
Sad, but True. Just like my pre-teen fascination with corny Westerns with wimpy female leads.
Monday, September 15
Self-Offense
I'm becoming more and more aware of the ways in which women often punish and/or defend ourselves in situations where we feel we don't HAVE power or control or even basic rights.
As my business grows, I'm working with more and more women who have used food as a method of having control in their lives. They punish themselves for not being good enough by not eating. They over-eat to feel comforted and to fill an emotional void in their lives; they often become grossly overweight as a defense against rape and other sexual encounters they don't want to face.
We tell ourselves that we are not pretty enough, not skinny enough, not curvaceous enough, not smart enough, not accomplishing enough, not ENOUGH-- and in doing so, we limit ourselves so that nobody can do it to us. We don't want to give that power away, too. We don't want the criticism that women sometimes receive when we take risks, acknowledge our strengths and abilities, attempt change, rock the boat. There are enough critics in our lives already.
I'm learning that these patterns of behavior-- the self-criticism, and self-limiting; the over-eating and the starvation diet-- more and more, these are cropping up among men as well. And since these are "women's diseases" men often have an even harder time admitting that the problem exists, or understanding why, let alone seeking help to make positive changes and enact healthy patterns.
As a society, we cut ourselves off from feelings. From feeling too deeply, from recognizing our emotions and our reactions to our life experiences (especially the traumatic ones!). We ignore the messages our bodies try to send us in the form of felt aches, pains, and nausea. We get so caught up in trying to be smart and world-savvy that we ignore our own inner wisdom. We lose touch (if we ever found it to begin with) with our inner selves.
Sometimes we are so out of touch with our feelings that we fail to react in fight-or-flight situations; we don't get angry when we are mistreated, or we simply assume that we must have done SOMETHING to deserve the anger directed at us by another, the dismissal of our concerns and of our priorities.
And our internal criticism of our own not-enoughness becomes cruel. There is no pause to ask WHY we couldn't do 100 crunches at our twice-daily workout on Tuesday... after not eating for three days and then staying up all night to study for a class that we're taking after our 40-60-hour work week; caring for our households; caring for our families. Caring for everything but ourselves.
When is it time to care for ourselves? When do we pause and ask ourselves who has judged us-- where that criticism we are using as our measuring stick has come from... And then ask ourselves who has the right to determine our individual worth-- our individual definitions of a successful life. Most of the time, we begin by looking outside of ourselves for approval of our choices, our values, our style of dress and our sense of humor. We look outside of ourselves for clues about what we are supposed to do, who we are supposed to be, and what our reward for "getting it right" should look like. And none of it makes us very happy.
You see, until you have a good relationship with YOURSELF, until you like yourself and figure out what sort of a life would make YOU happy-- chances are, you won't be. It is a risk-- taking responsibility for our own choices and our own happiness. Back to the Cinderella Complex again, really. Hoping someone else will come along and save us from all this.
It's a risk to feel all those feelings that you've repressed or didn't even know you were having for so many years. What if they overwhelm you? Why are you suddenly getting ANGRY all the time?? Well... it's your body finally balancing out. All the emotions you ignored didn't go away-- they just got packed and compressed and repressed into this little box, and when you release the catch on the lid, it springs open and all the unfulfilled unhappy feelings come rushing out. ...But then, the box is empty. It no longer sits there oozing poison and secret shames, feeding your bodily illnesses and emotional instabilities and dependencies on people or on substances or on food-management.
There is finally space for you to learn new coping skills, to learn to recognize when you are having an emotion, and what emotion it is, and maybe even begin to recognize that there is probably a GOOD REASON for you to be having that emotion. Listening to yourself. Deciding how you want to act, now that you have all the information available to you. Befriending and trusting yourself. Accessing your inner wisdom. ...learning to love yourself as an imperfect and wonderful individual... Learning the joy of working toward a lifestyle and a decision-making process that will actually make you HAPPY!! Happy to be alive. Happy to be here, and do that, with people who appreciate you for YOU, and who share similar aspirations and a similar respect for you that you are learning to have yourself.
...If you don't learn to respect and love yourself-- to feel that your needs and your goals and your values and your decisions are important... nobody else will either. Make a different choice. And remember that even if the people you love and currently interact with don't support your goal of finding and appreciating yourself... someone else will. You are worth waiting for, worth searching for, worth working to find. Worth listening to. But this time, you get to do the waiting, working, listening and searching for yourself. It is deliciously empowering to put your energy and efforts to work in pursuit of your OWN GOALS-- and very few of the women I know have ever done this consciously. Intentionally.
Live intentionally. Live joyfully. Live your own life.
Dance on top of the world.
Please.
As my business grows, I'm working with more and more women who have used food as a method of having control in their lives. They punish themselves for not being good enough by not eating. They over-eat to feel comforted and to fill an emotional void in their lives; they often become grossly overweight as a defense against rape and other sexual encounters they don't want to face.
We tell ourselves that we are not pretty enough, not skinny enough, not curvaceous enough, not smart enough, not accomplishing enough, not ENOUGH-- and in doing so, we limit ourselves so that nobody can do it to us. We don't want to give that power away, too. We don't want the criticism that women sometimes receive when we take risks, acknowledge our strengths and abilities, attempt change, rock the boat. There are enough critics in our lives already.
I'm learning that these patterns of behavior-- the self-criticism, and self-limiting; the over-eating and the starvation diet-- more and more, these are cropping up among men as well. And since these are "women's diseases" men often have an even harder time admitting that the problem exists, or understanding why, let alone seeking help to make positive changes and enact healthy patterns.
As a society, we cut ourselves off from feelings. From feeling too deeply, from recognizing our emotions and our reactions to our life experiences (especially the traumatic ones!). We ignore the messages our bodies try to send us in the form of felt aches, pains, and nausea. We get so caught up in trying to be smart and world-savvy that we ignore our own inner wisdom. We lose touch (if we ever found it to begin with) with our inner selves.
Sometimes we are so out of touch with our feelings that we fail to react in fight-or-flight situations; we don't get angry when we are mistreated, or we simply assume that we must have done SOMETHING to deserve the anger directed at us by another, the dismissal of our concerns and of our priorities.
And our internal criticism of our own not-enoughness becomes cruel. There is no pause to ask WHY we couldn't do 100 crunches at our twice-daily workout on Tuesday... after not eating for three days and then staying up all night to study for a class that we're taking after our 40-60-hour work week; caring for our households; caring for our families. Caring for everything but ourselves.
When is it time to care for ourselves? When do we pause and ask ourselves who has judged us-- where that criticism we are using as our measuring stick has come from... And then ask ourselves who has the right to determine our individual worth-- our individual definitions of a successful life. Most of the time, we begin by looking outside of ourselves for approval of our choices, our values, our style of dress and our sense of humor. We look outside of ourselves for clues about what we are supposed to do, who we are supposed to be, and what our reward for "getting it right" should look like. And none of it makes us very happy.
You see, until you have a good relationship with YOURSELF, until you like yourself and figure out what sort of a life would make YOU happy-- chances are, you won't be. It is a risk-- taking responsibility for our own choices and our own happiness. Back to the Cinderella Complex again, really. Hoping someone else will come along and save us from all this.
It's a risk to feel all those feelings that you've repressed or didn't even know you were having for so many years. What if they overwhelm you? Why are you suddenly getting ANGRY all the time?? Well... it's your body finally balancing out. All the emotions you ignored didn't go away-- they just got packed and compressed and repressed into this little box, and when you release the catch on the lid, it springs open and all the unfulfilled unhappy feelings come rushing out. ...But then, the box is empty. It no longer sits there oozing poison and secret shames, feeding your bodily illnesses and emotional instabilities and dependencies on people or on substances or on food-management.
There is finally space for you to learn new coping skills, to learn to recognize when you are having an emotion, and what emotion it is, and maybe even begin to recognize that there is probably a GOOD REASON for you to be having that emotion. Listening to yourself. Deciding how you want to act, now that you have all the information available to you. Befriending and trusting yourself. Accessing your inner wisdom. ...learning to love yourself as an imperfect and wonderful individual... Learning the joy of working toward a lifestyle and a decision-making process that will actually make you HAPPY!! Happy to be alive. Happy to be here, and do that, with people who appreciate you for YOU, and who share similar aspirations and a similar respect for you that you are learning to have yourself.
...If you don't learn to respect and love yourself-- to feel that your needs and your goals and your values and your decisions are important... nobody else will either. Make a different choice. And remember that even if the people you love and currently interact with don't support your goal of finding and appreciating yourself... someone else will. You are worth waiting for, worth searching for, worth working to find. Worth listening to. But this time, you get to do the waiting, working, listening and searching for yourself. It is deliciously empowering to put your energy and efforts to work in pursuit of your OWN GOALS-- and very few of the women I know have ever done this consciously. Intentionally.
Live intentionally. Live joyfully. Live your own life.
Dance on top of the world.
Please.
Sunday, July 27
Hard to Say, Really
Well, I had a grand tour of CatMan's home last night. And realized that while I appreciate his passion for old stuff because I like and respect him... I wouldn't want to live with all the old stuff he has collected.
So once I got home last night, and again when I got up this morning, I've been trying to figure out the most honest, respectful (to me and to him), and compassionate way that I can let him know I've enjoyed getting to know him, and I respect him greatly, but I don't want to date him. I'd love to have him as a good friend, instead.
(Can you tell I've been thinking this through for a while now?) For all that it needs to be said, I know from the long email he sent me this morning that he's really enjoying our (still non-physical) relationship... It's going to be really hard to tell him that his path is not the one I want to walk.
So once I got home last night, and again when I got up this morning, I've been trying to figure out the most honest, respectful (to me and to him), and compassionate way that I can let him know I've enjoyed getting to know him, and I respect him greatly, but I don't want to date him. I'd love to have him as a good friend, instead.
(Can you tell I've been thinking this through for a while now?) For all that it needs to be said, I know from the long email he sent me this morning that he's really enjoying our (still non-physical) relationship... It's going to be really hard to tell him that his path is not the one I want to walk.
Thursday, July 24
Whydoi
I have to laugh at myself. Often.
For example, when it comes to dating, I've learned just how easy it is to have very conflicting wants. I've met a man who actually likes to talk, and listen, and to whom I like to talk and listen, too. But last night, after making marketing calls for a couple of hours, and then coaching for a couple of hours, my throat hurt, and the idea of talking to anyone about anything made my voice and my brain hurt.
So, instead of calling CatMan, and falling into a long conversation, I emailed him. And said how much I did NOT want to talk. I didn't clarify that talking to ANYONE would have been unappealing, and I was so tired that I doubt my email would have made much rational sense to anyone. I also think I asked him out to a movie this weekend. But I couldn't swear to that.
This morning? The first thing I did was RUSH to email to see if he'd responded yet. Responded to what? My apparent desire not to interact with him? ...before 7am on a work day?
And then I started to laugh. Last time I checked, my life was about me. And being tired and taking care of myself was a GOOD thing. I'd forgotten how easy it is to get swept into relationship, and how hard I find it to think of myself and my needs when I'm in relationship with someone I really care about. The good news is that I noticed myself being silly, and can now make a different choice.
So I'll call CatMan when he gets home from work tonight, and maybe we can enjoy a good conversation then. I think it'll be okay. I think maybe we don't have to call out the Nagtional Guard on this one. You think?
For example, when it comes to dating, I've learned just how easy it is to have very conflicting wants. I've met a man who actually likes to talk, and listen, and to whom I like to talk and listen, too. But last night, after making marketing calls for a couple of hours, and then coaching for a couple of hours, my throat hurt, and the idea of talking to anyone about anything made my voice and my brain hurt.
So, instead of calling CatMan, and falling into a long conversation, I emailed him. And said how much I did NOT want to talk. I didn't clarify that talking to ANYONE would have been unappealing, and I was so tired that I doubt my email would have made much rational sense to anyone. I also think I asked him out to a movie this weekend. But I couldn't swear to that.
This morning? The first thing I did was RUSH to email to see if he'd responded yet. Responded to what? My apparent desire not to interact with him? ...before 7am on a work day?
And then I started to laugh. Last time I checked, my life was about me. And being tired and taking care of myself was a GOOD thing. I'd forgotten how easy it is to get swept into relationship, and how hard I find it to think of myself and my needs when I'm in relationship with someone I really care about. The good news is that I noticed myself being silly, and can now make a different choice.
So I'll call CatMan when he gets home from work tonight, and maybe we can enjoy a good conversation then. I think it'll be okay. I think maybe we don't have to call out the Nagtional Guard on this one. You think?
Monday, July 21
The Scary Part...
I think I went on a date. Now what???
This guy is intelligent, self-sufficient, capable, stable, easy-going, and also knows what he wants and what he thinks. He's mature, and he's sturdy, and he's thoughtful and caring-- especially toward his family and his community, and he doesn't seem to worry about what anybody else thinks, and seems to have his life pretty well planned out. What on earth would I bring to his life that he doesn't already have? Would there be room for me and my goals and my way of living? And... could I maintain my own newly and hard-won self-awareness and personal opinions and sense of purpose in the world if I ended up in a serious relationship with him? Would I stop being silly around the edges so that I'd appear mature and sturdy, too? Standing on one foot isn't very sturdy, and the Christmas carols aren't always sung in tune... but it's who I am, and I really like me.
It's part of a larger concern. The last vestiges of my fear of fugcking up at dating like I did at marrying, and of not finding someone who actually IS all those things I THINK he is; mixed with this irrational fear that I'm not enough for a guy like this.
I just have to let actions speak, and listen when they do. I have to give myself (and him) TIME. And ask frank questions if/when I want more transparent communication between us. That's a challenge all by itself, but it's important to me.
Without good, solid, honest, and timely communication... there isn't really anything else.
My job is to make sure I stay in touch with myself and my needs, and that I clearly communicate my needs and my questions to whomever I am with. I'm getting better at this, but I've got some learning left to do. All that is about me. It would be the same with any guy... And this guy seems to be really great. Really Great. In some ways, it'd be easier if his baggage was as transparent to me as mine is...
And... When I stop to think about who I am and what I have to offer a friend or a partner... it's actually pretty impressive. I'm caring, considerate (usually), and I pursue open and honest communication. I invite opportunity for consensus. I'm intelligent. I have plans for a career, and I enjoy being productive. I'm sometimes funny (it helps if you get my jokes). I've got a lot of skills, and I'm willing to try new things and lend a hand when I do know what I'm doing.
I'm artistic, and handy, and creative, and a good problem-solver (usually-- there was that time when I forgot that I didn't need an internet connection to transport information from one computer to another...). I take healthy risks, and I'm constantly working to improve myself as a person and a community-member. I'm genuine. I'm good with animals and children and... just about everybody else, too.
I steal the covers, but I give them back. I'm not afraid to ask for help when I need it. I cook excellent one-pot meals. I buy organic, and I like french fries. I'm a skilled writer and information-finder. I know how to use the spell-checker. I'm loyal. I'm flexible so long as SOMEONE has a plan. I don't get angry easily (though I get frustrated with myself more easily than I'd like)... I can laugh at myself, and I love to cuddle. I give a good massage, and I can be very sensual in a safe and committed situation. People seem to think I'm good company, and I'm pretty good at expressing my opinions when I have them. I really see people for who they are inside, when given a window in.
I mean, really, that's a lot to offer in the dating world...
and-- apparently-- I'm perky, too. So There.
It occurs to me... I need to start a list of questions we all want to ask, but often don't know how (or don't have the courage to ask) in dating situations! According to a girlfriend of mine who's done a lot of dating recently, the rules now are... THERE ARE NO RULES. Dating is what you want it to be. Huh. I'm really not sure how to interact with that. I want conflicting things. It's hard to take big risks when what I really want is not to get hurt. I don't want any more hurt in my life right now. I've had enough to last two lifetimes. I also want to see if there IS a good life-partner out there for me, and that involves taking some emotional risks.
So I wonder... is it simply time to focus on enjoying today, and let the future take care of itself? Ironically, the very next thing that comes to mind is a question: ...and where will that lead if I do?? How scary is that!
This guy is intelligent, self-sufficient, capable, stable, easy-going, and also knows what he wants and what he thinks. He's mature, and he's sturdy, and he's thoughtful and caring-- especially toward his family and his community, and he doesn't seem to worry about what anybody else thinks, and seems to have his life pretty well planned out. What on earth would I bring to his life that he doesn't already have? Would there be room for me and my goals and my way of living? And... could I maintain my own newly and hard-won self-awareness and personal opinions and sense of purpose in the world if I ended up in a serious relationship with him? Would I stop being silly around the edges so that I'd appear mature and sturdy, too? Standing on one foot isn't very sturdy, and the Christmas carols aren't always sung in tune... but it's who I am, and I really like me.
It's part of a larger concern. The last vestiges of my fear of fugcking up at dating like I did at marrying, and of not finding someone who actually IS all those things I THINK he is; mixed with this irrational fear that I'm not enough for a guy like this.
I just have to let actions speak, and listen when they do. I have to give myself (and him) TIME. And ask frank questions if/when I want more transparent communication between us. That's a challenge all by itself, but it's important to me.
Without good, solid, honest, and timely communication... there isn't really anything else.
My job is to make sure I stay in touch with myself and my needs, and that I clearly communicate my needs and my questions to whomever I am with. I'm getting better at this, but I've got some learning left to do. All that is about me. It would be the same with any guy... And this guy seems to be really great. Really Great. In some ways, it'd be easier if his baggage was as transparent to me as mine is...
And... When I stop to think about who I am and what I have to offer a friend or a partner... it's actually pretty impressive. I'm caring, considerate (usually), and I pursue open and honest communication. I invite opportunity for consensus. I'm intelligent. I have plans for a career, and I enjoy being productive. I'm sometimes funny (it helps if you get my jokes). I've got a lot of skills, and I'm willing to try new things and lend a hand when I do know what I'm doing.
I'm artistic, and handy, and creative, and a good problem-solver (usually-- there was that time when I forgot that I didn't need an internet connection to transport information from one computer to another...). I take healthy risks, and I'm constantly working to improve myself as a person and a community-member. I'm genuine. I'm good with animals and children and... just about everybody else, too.
I steal the covers, but I give them back. I'm not afraid to ask for help when I need it. I cook excellent one-pot meals. I buy organic, and I like french fries. I'm a skilled writer and information-finder. I know how to use the spell-checker. I'm loyal. I'm flexible so long as SOMEONE has a plan. I don't get angry easily (though I get frustrated with myself more easily than I'd like)... I can laugh at myself, and I love to cuddle. I give a good massage, and I can be very sensual in a safe and committed situation. People seem to think I'm good company, and I'm pretty good at expressing my opinions when I have them. I really see people for who they are inside, when given a window in.
I mean, really, that's a lot to offer in the dating world...
and-- apparently-- I'm perky, too. So There.
It occurs to me... I need to start a list of questions we all want to ask, but often don't know how (or don't have the courage to ask) in dating situations! According to a girlfriend of mine who's done a lot of dating recently, the rules now are... THERE ARE NO RULES. Dating is what you want it to be. Huh. I'm really not sure how to interact with that. I want conflicting things. It's hard to take big risks when what I really want is not to get hurt. I don't want any more hurt in my life right now. I've had enough to last two lifetimes. I also want to see if there IS a good life-partner out there for me, and that involves taking some emotional risks.
So I wonder... is it simply time to focus on enjoying today, and let the future take care of itself? Ironically, the very next thing that comes to mind is a question: ...and where will that lead if I do?? How scary is that!
Thursday, July 17
What's Your Favorite...
I'd forgotten that there can be this awkward period of "getting to know you" when you make new friends. Especially if you both know there's a possibility that you might be more than friends-- and neither one of you is really sure you're ready for that. I also hadn't realized that the questions I'd have asked in high school might not be quite so appropriate now...
Questions like: What's your favorite color? and Who's your favorite actor? and Which do you prefer-- boxers or briefs? (well, okay, that was college)... Umm...
It's actually a funny thing-- talking on the telephone, trying to find mutual topics of conversation, not sure of each other's verbal patterns so you end up starting to respond before he stops talking-- often enough to feel foolish about it. Some people are just easier to talk with in person, and with others... an hour or two might go by unnoticed while your relationship blooms via the technology that links you. It's a hit-or-miss sort of thing.
The good news is that I've discovered I no longer hold a grudge against everyone who shares the same interests, career, or bone structure as my Ex. I'm really fine with military guys (though that last one was a bit of a flake), and it's okay if you play the occasional video game (just don't play so much that you have to stop yourself from going into the nearest jewelry store because your "supply of pearls is low"). I can even handle men with a predilection for ... well, never mind that one. It's just good to know that I'm (generally speaking, since I'm not perfect) going into any future dating relationships with no preconceived judgments or expectations. It really IS going to be about how things go between me and the man I'm talking to. The ghosts are finally fading away. YAYYYY!!!
So... No Shight, there we were. Having a conversation about cats. His cats. His two female black cats who sound really fun, and have their own playground that has taken over most of the living room floor, and includes several army-issue ponchos because the material actually sheds cat fur. His cats that he picked out of a litter of kittens, and one of whom he has named Morgan, after Morgan le Fae from Arthurian Legends. How F-ing COOL is THAT?!
The things we talked about HINT at awesome things that didn't quite reach the surface. And I'm hooked. I want to find out if those hints are fool's gold or something more precious. And I want to be respectful. But it takes getting to know someone to really understand what "respectful" looks like to them. And I don't know him very well yet. So I'm guessing. I told myself very firmly-- months ago now-- that if I ever DID date somebody ever again, I would NOT play the whole "how long am I supposed to wait before I call back?!" guessing game. No. And now, here I am. Wondering if I can call and tell him about my weekend on Sunday, or if I should wait until later in the week-- give him a chance to call me again. ...and I'm not sure there's any way to avoid hazarding a few guesses. For instance, I guess I should probably stop editing this blog post, and get some sleep.
I can tell right now that I need to create a new label for all the posts that are going to show up about dating, now that I'm actually out there trying to participate in it.
And-- Hey!-- How the hell do you know if a guy is the right age for you anymore?! It was easy when we were all in school together-- either he was in your classes or he wasn't. But now? ...Umm...
While the whole age-range of datability has expanded as I've grown up (at twelve, dating a guy two years older was like REALLY BOLD-- I mean, he's OLD!!!), and I've discovered that I'm now okay with someone ten years older than me, I think, until proven otherwise, on a case-by-case basis, maybe... TWENTY YEARS IS PUSHING IT. But that's me. And if I run into a couple with a greater range in age than what I would accept for myself, I try to make my judgement based on whether there is respect, appreciation, maturity and enjoyment from each person for the other or not-- because those are the only things I know for a fact should exist in every relationship regardless.
Okay. That was a seriously run-on sentence. But it's a valid question. The older we get, the harder it is for me to guess how old we are. And can I just tell you that I was accused of being petite and blonde over the phone today? By a very nice woman who lives in Georgia. She's never seen me before, but I just SOUNDED like a blonde to her. Along these same lines, a friend once shocked me to my toes by telling me that he would describe me as "perky." ME?? ReALLY?? But... I'm so BORING! ... and he gave me that "what planet does your mirror live on, really??" look, so I guess it's true. Me. Perky.
...And I'd forgotten about it, and gone back to thinking of myself as boring and not anything like those fun cheerful bouncy cheerleader types... I mean, really. I'm a librarian, man. ...Until I talked with this woman from Georgia. And then the man with the cats called. I found myself trying not to say "like" quite so often, and not being quite as ...uhh... twinkly and random?... in my responses to his conversation. I didn't want to come across as "young" or "immature" or ... "blonde" somehow... And when I realized what I was doing, I had to laugh at myself. Either he'll like me or he won't. And either I'll like him or I won't.
But pretending to anybody that I don't stand on one foot and sing Christmas carols to myself when I wash dishes is just silly. Because all you have to do is walk into the kitchen while I'm doing dishes, and you realize that this is EXACTLY what I do, people. HONESTLY. And, just as with the whole "perky" thing, I didn't even know I did that until one day my mom came home from work early, walked into the kitchen, and burst out laughing to the point of actual tears.
...sigh...
I don't think I have this hangup in person, however (the one about trying to appear mature), so I'm going to cross my fingers and hope that the next time CatMan calls, he'll be calling to invite me to do something face-to-face. And maybe, if he's nice, I'll even sing him a Christmas carol or two. Like.
Questions like: What's your favorite color? and Who's your favorite actor? and Which do you prefer-- boxers or briefs? (well, okay, that was college)... Umm...
It's actually a funny thing-- talking on the telephone, trying to find mutual topics of conversation, not sure of each other's verbal patterns so you end up starting to respond before he stops talking-- often enough to feel foolish about it. Some people are just easier to talk with in person, and with others... an hour or two might go by unnoticed while your relationship blooms via the technology that links you. It's a hit-or-miss sort of thing.
The good news is that I've discovered I no longer hold a grudge against everyone who shares the same interests, career, or bone structure as my Ex. I'm really fine with military guys (though that last one was a bit of a flake), and it's okay if you play the occasional video game (just don't play so much that you have to stop yourself from going into the nearest jewelry store because your "supply of pearls is low"). I can even handle men with a predilection for ... well, never mind that one. It's just good to know that I'm (generally speaking, since I'm not perfect) going into any future dating relationships with no preconceived judgments or expectations. It really IS going to be about how things go between me and the man I'm talking to. The ghosts are finally fading away. YAYYYY!!!
So... No Shight, there we were. Having a conversation about cats. His cats. His two female black cats who sound really fun, and have their own playground that has taken over most of the living room floor, and includes several army-issue ponchos because the material actually sheds cat fur. His cats that he picked out of a litter of kittens, and one of whom he has named Morgan, after Morgan le Fae from Arthurian Legends. How F-ing COOL is THAT?!
The things we talked about HINT at awesome things that didn't quite reach the surface. And I'm hooked. I want to find out if those hints are fool's gold or something more precious. And I want to be respectful. But it takes getting to know someone to really understand what "respectful" looks like to them. And I don't know him very well yet. So I'm guessing. I told myself very firmly-- months ago now-- that if I ever DID date somebody ever again, I would NOT play the whole "how long am I supposed to wait before I call back?!" guessing game. No. And now, here I am. Wondering if I can call and tell him about my weekend on Sunday, or if I should wait until later in the week-- give him a chance to call me again. ...and I'm not sure there's any way to avoid hazarding a few guesses. For instance, I guess I should probably stop editing this blog post, and get some sleep.
I can tell right now that I need to create a new label for all the posts that are going to show up about dating, now that I'm actually out there trying to participate in it.
And-- Hey!-- How the hell do you know if a guy is the right age for you anymore?! It was easy when we were all in school together-- either he was in your classes or he wasn't. But now? ...Umm...
While the whole age-range of datability has expanded as I've grown up (at twelve, dating a guy two years older was like REALLY BOLD-- I mean, he's OLD!!!), and I've discovered that I'm now okay with someone ten years older than me, I think, until proven otherwise, on a case-by-case basis, maybe... TWENTY YEARS IS PUSHING IT. But that's me. And if I run into a couple with a greater range in age than what I would accept for myself, I try to make my judgement based on whether there is respect, appreciation, maturity and enjoyment from each person for the other or not-- because those are the only things I know for a fact should exist in every relationship regardless.
Okay. That was a seriously run-on sentence. But it's a valid question. The older we get, the harder it is for me to guess how old we are. And can I just tell you that I was accused of being petite and blonde over the phone today? By a very nice woman who lives in Georgia. She's never seen me before, but I just SOUNDED like a blonde to her. Along these same lines, a friend once shocked me to my toes by telling me that he would describe me as "perky." ME?? ReALLY?? But... I'm so BORING! ... and he gave me that "what planet does your mirror live on, really??" look, so I guess it's true. Me. Perky.
...And I'd forgotten about it, and gone back to thinking of myself as boring and not anything like those fun cheerful bouncy cheerleader types... I mean, really. I'm a librarian, man. ...Until I talked with this woman from Georgia. And then the man with the cats called. I found myself trying not to say "like" quite so often, and not being quite as ...uhh... twinkly and random?... in my responses to his conversation. I didn't want to come across as "young" or "immature" or ... "blonde" somehow... And when I realized what I was doing, I had to laugh at myself. Either he'll like me or he won't. And either I'll like him or I won't.
But pretending to anybody that I don't stand on one foot and sing Christmas carols to myself when I wash dishes is just silly. Because all you have to do is walk into the kitchen while I'm doing dishes, and you realize that this is EXACTLY what I do, people. HONESTLY. And, just as with the whole "perky" thing, I didn't even know I did that until one day my mom came home from work early, walked into the kitchen, and burst out laughing to the point of actual tears.
...sigh...
I don't think I have this hangup in person, however (the one about trying to appear mature), so I'm going to cross my fingers and hope that the next time CatMan calls, he'll be calling to invite me to do something face-to-face. And maybe, if he's nice, I'll even sing him a Christmas carol or two. Like.
Tuesday, July 15
Tagged for Life: A Memoire
So... There's this new form of the "get lucky" email going around. It's a blog challenge based on a mythological bet that Hemingway once made. His autobiographical words were purported to be, “For Sale: Baby Shoes, Never Worn.”
And here are the rules:
So... Can you sum up your whole life in six words?
Ahem: "wise others curious boundaries open self"
Wise
Others
Curious
Boundaries
Open
Self
Wise
Others
Curious
Boundaries
Open
Self
Wise...
It may change as my life continues. First, there were the wise others who watched me. There were may wise others, curiously. Then there were others, curious about me or about whom I was curious. I spent a lot of time focused on others. Isn't that curious? I also spent a lot of time being curious about HOW this was so... and I discovered that it had a lot to do with boundaries. My boundaries, and those that others had toward me were rather curious for much of my life, really. Curious boundaries, had we. Very open, they were. Yoda, I was not.
And then the curious boundaries opened, and in many ways my life transformed because I gave myself permission to pass them. And then I became curious about life. I decided I wanted to live it. So I started creating boundaries between myself and those who threatened my life. Boundaries. Curiously, my life opened before me as my boundaries became healthy and real. I myself became open. Open to life, open to health, open to change, open to possibility and hope and reality and new beginnings. I opened to myself, and got to know her in a new and intelligent way. Wisdom, they call it.
I opened to Self, and became wise. I became myself more fully and more joyfully than I have ever been before. And here I am. Open, and in relationship with my Self. Learning new ways of being. Making friends with others. Disseminating wisdom to others. Wise. Curiously wise in working with others, really. Especially for my age. I'm about to become 30. I have a lot of life left. And I'm curious about what it will bring...
My six-word autobiography might need some editing and modification and change as I go along.
....TAG! You're it.
And here are the rules:
1. Write your own six word memoir.
2. Post it to your blog including a visual illustration if you would like
3. Link to the person who tagged you in your post and to this original post (http://herebaby.blogspot.com/2008/06/six-word-memior.html) if possible so we can track it as it travels across the blogsphere
4. Tag 5 more blogs with links
5. Don’t forget to leave a comment in the tagged blogs with an invitation to play
So... Can you sum up your whole life in six words?
Ahem: "wise others curious boundaries open self"
Wise
Others
Curious
Boundaries
Open
Self
Wise
Others
Curious
Boundaries
Open
Self
Wise...
It may change as my life continues. First, there were the wise others who watched me. There were may wise others, curiously. Then there were others, curious about me or about whom I was curious. I spent a lot of time focused on others. Isn't that curious? I also spent a lot of time being curious about HOW this was so... and I discovered that it had a lot to do with boundaries. My boundaries, and those that others had toward me were rather curious for much of my life, really. Curious boundaries, had we. Very open, they were. Yoda, I was not.
And then the curious boundaries opened, and in many ways my life transformed because I gave myself permission to pass them. And then I became curious about life. I decided I wanted to live it. So I started creating boundaries between myself and those who threatened my life. Boundaries. Curiously, my life opened before me as my boundaries became healthy and real. I myself became open. Open to life, open to health, open to change, open to possibility and hope and reality and new beginnings. I opened to myself, and got to know her in a new and intelligent way. Wisdom, they call it.
I opened to Self, and became wise. I became myself more fully and more joyfully than I have ever been before. And here I am. Open, and in relationship with my Self. Learning new ways of being. Making friends with others. Disseminating wisdom to others. Wise. Curiously wise in working with others, really. Especially for my age. I'm about to become 30. I have a lot of life left. And I'm curious about what it will bring...
My six-word autobiography might need some editing and modification and change as I go along.
....TAG! You're it.
Thursday, June 5
Funny, That
It's a funny thing... I had an email last week from someone I always wanted to know better in high school. I emailed back, and then spent about 20 minutes trying to figure out WHY I thought he was who I thought he was back then. And I've yet to come up with something believable.
I always thought of him as a kind and gentle person, but pretty self-contained and fairly strong. Quiet, possibly even painfully shy, and yet someone with strong ideas of how to get along in the world. What did I base this on? I have no fugcking idea. My most recent memory is of him sitting slouched in the back of a classroom in his poofy down coat, with his pimp-wannabe baseball cap on backwards and a really bored expression on his face. Yeah.
In the whole of high school, I think we had maybe six conversations. And none of them lasted more than 20 seconds-- except the one where my mom forgot to pick me up from school and it was pitch black and the school was totally deserted, and HE showed up and offered me a ride home. That time, the poor guy was stuck in his truck with me for a full 20 minutes of horror.
I think what usually happened was that I wanted so much to be liked by this guy (remember-- high school) and was so self-conscious and weird as only a pre-pubescent girl can be that about 20 seconds into the conversation, I'd say something that was either really dumb, really bizarre, or both-- and he'd get this "deer in the headlights" look, and stop talking to me. This is how I remember ALL of our interactions. I don't even know what his parents did for a living (or do now, for that matter), I don't know his brother's name or age, I don't know what this guy did after school or even what sports he played-- if any.
But anyway, I got this email last week, and thought "HEY! How cool would it be to finally find out who he actually IS-- and maybe have a whole conversation, too!" So I responded. It's been a week, and I haven't heard anything back from his end. And I have to say, I'm finding it funny. THIS time, I don't think I said anything dumb, foolish, or weird. THIS time, I simply have the inclination to laugh at how familiar the whole situation seems to me. And I'm writing him another email if I don't hear back in a few more days. I'd sort of like to know what happened to shut him up. I'm honesty curious. After all-- HE STARTED IT!
Yeah. Between not hearing from him (YET), and not hearing (YET) from any of my applied-to libraries, I'm feeling kinda lost in the sea of interweberry. There's this book of poems that I really loved in middle and high school because the writer echoed so many of my own confused feelings about my life at that point-- the title is something like "Hello World, It's Me- Margaret." I remember the title being pulled from a poem that discussed that feeling of unwanted invisibility...
Invisibility. I has it.
...Funny, That.
I always thought of him as a kind and gentle person, but pretty self-contained and fairly strong. Quiet, possibly even painfully shy, and yet someone with strong ideas of how to get along in the world. What did I base this on? I have no fugcking idea. My most recent memory is of him sitting slouched in the back of a classroom in his poofy down coat, with his pimp-wannabe baseball cap on backwards and a really bored expression on his face. Yeah.
In the whole of high school, I think we had maybe six conversations. And none of them lasted more than 20 seconds-- except the one where my mom forgot to pick me up from school and it was pitch black and the school was totally deserted, and HE showed up and offered me a ride home. That time, the poor guy was stuck in his truck with me for a full 20 minutes of horror.
I think what usually happened was that I wanted so much to be liked by this guy (remember-- high school) and was so self-conscious and weird as only a pre-pubescent girl can be that about 20 seconds into the conversation, I'd say something that was either really dumb, really bizarre, or both-- and he'd get this "deer in the headlights" look, and stop talking to me. This is how I remember ALL of our interactions. I don't even know what his parents did for a living (or do now, for that matter), I don't know his brother's name or age, I don't know what this guy did after school or even what sports he played-- if any.
But anyway, I got this email last week, and thought "HEY! How cool would it be to finally find out who he actually IS-- and maybe have a whole conversation, too!" So I responded. It's been a week, and I haven't heard anything back from his end. And I have to say, I'm finding it funny. THIS time, I don't think I said anything dumb, foolish, or weird. THIS time, I simply have the inclination to laugh at how familiar the whole situation seems to me. And I'm writing him another email if I don't hear back in a few more days. I'd sort of like to know what happened to shut him up. I'm honesty curious. After all-- HE STARTED IT!
Yeah. Between not hearing from him (YET), and not hearing (YET) from any of my applied-to libraries, I'm feeling kinda lost in the sea of interweberry. There's this book of poems that I really loved in middle and high school because the writer echoed so many of my own confused feelings about my life at that point-- the title is something like "Hello World, It's Me- Margaret." I remember the title being pulled from a poem that discussed that feeling of unwanted invisibility...
Invisibility. I has it.
...Funny, That.
Wednesday, March 12
Interdisciplinarity vs Geraldine Ferraro
So I just happened to check in with one of my favorite blogs-- feministing.com
And discovered this lovely commentary (way at the bottom, I had a lot to say first, whoops) that is technically about Geraldine Ferraro, but really discusses the (more important) growing divide between 2nd wave and 3rd wave feminists.
Nowhere is this divide more evident than in the political debates of non-runners about this year's two most exciting candidates for President. Old-school feminists (ie: 2nd wavers) support HC simply because she is a woman. And I understand the point. They've been forced to act on one-party politics for a long time-- just to be taken seriously in politics at all. They've had to focus their clout very specifically for it to be enough force to enact changes. Important changes. But the latest wave of feminists (ie: 3rd wavers-- may there be many more waves to come, and may my cat's snores not wake the neighbors)... we see things a little differently. It's a bit of a one-world approach. And you can see it beginning to take root in the offerings of many small liberal arts colleges around the country.
You see, we have an interdisciplinary approach. We understand that it isn't just about being female. It's about being black and poor, or female and muslim, or any number of other intersecting (and now interdisciplinary) realities that we AS PEOPLE face every day. We are proud of who we are, and often of where we came from as well. But not everyone sees it that way. What we DO see is that if all underprivileged groups work together in support of a better world for all of us, we'll all win. Not just the women who choose to define themselves (and vote) exclusively by the shape of their genitals. In fact, while respecting greatly the progress and fights and sacrifices that many women before us have made to get us this far... I personally find it every bit as limiting (now) to define myself by my perceived gender as to be defined by it. So I don't. I see that I am a young healthy white woman from a poor farming town with two parents, etc etc etc. All those things intersect to define my personal challenges and my privileges.
I have been privileged to hear many intelligent and self-aware speakers on the subject of race, and how it intersects with other challenges and privileges. One of these speakers explained to me that if we continue to ignore difference (like skin color), we are sending a message to those whose individuality we ignore that these parts of them don't count, or aren't valued. Their cultural background, their family struggles, their special abilities and evident skills... Rather, to be truly anti-racism (or classism or any other ism you think of), we must EMBRACE DIFFERENCE, and find connection in our very uniqueness. We must find ways to bridge the gaps and become a community, without losing the gifts that difference brings. No community could survive by itself if everyone in it were a bricklayer. Who'd bake the bread?
And so I have pasted a small piece of the latest bit of intelligence (I don't always agree, but the site does always make me think about what I think, and why) from feministing.com:
And discovered this lovely commentary (way at the bottom, I had a lot to say first, whoops) that is technically about Geraldine Ferraro, but really discusses the (more important) growing divide between 2nd wave and 3rd wave feminists.
Nowhere is this divide more evident than in the political debates of non-runners about this year's two most exciting candidates for President. Old-school feminists (ie: 2nd wavers) support HC simply because she is a woman. And I understand the point. They've been forced to act on one-party politics for a long time-- just to be taken seriously in politics at all. They've had to focus their clout very specifically for it to be enough force to enact changes. Important changes. But the latest wave of feminists (ie: 3rd wavers-- may there be many more waves to come, and may my cat's snores not wake the neighbors)... we see things a little differently. It's a bit of a one-world approach. And you can see it beginning to take root in the offerings of many small liberal arts colleges around the country.
You see, we have an interdisciplinary approach. We understand that it isn't just about being female. It's about being black and poor, or female and muslim, or any number of other intersecting (and now interdisciplinary) realities that we AS PEOPLE face every day. We are proud of who we are, and often of where we came from as well. But not everyone sees it that way. What we DO see is that if all underprivileged groups work together in support of a better world for all of us, we'll all win. Not just the women who choose to define themselves (and vote) exclusively by the shape of their genitals. In fact, while respecting greatly the progress and fights and sacrifices that many women before us have made to get us this far... I personally find it every bit as limiting (now) to define myself by my perceived gender as to be defined by it. So I don't. I see that I am a young healthy white woman from a poor farming town with two parents, etc etc etc. All those things intersect to define my personal challenges and my privileges.
I have been privileged to hear many intelligent and self-aware speakers on the subject of race, and how it intersects with other challenges and privileges. One of these speakers explained to me that if we continue to ignore difference (like skin color), we are sending a message to those whose individuality we ignore that these parts of them don't count, or aren't valued. Their cultural background, their family struggles, their special abilities and evident skills... Rather, to be truly anti-racism (or classism or any other ism you think of), we must EMBRACE DIFFERENCE, and find connection in our very uniqueness. We must find ways to bridge the gaps and become a community, without losing the gifts that difference brings. No community could survive by itself if everyone in it were a bricklayer. Who'd bake the bread?
And so I have pasted a small piece of the latest bit of intelligence (I don't always agree, but the site does always make me think about what I think, and why) from feministing.com:
| Geraldine Ferraro |
| Geraldine Ferraro, Democratic politician and champion of reproductive choice, said the following to The Daily Breeze in Torrance, California: If Obama was a white man, he would not be in this position. And if he was a woman (of any color), he would not be in this position. He happens to be very lucky to be who he is. And the country is caught up in the concept. It strikes me as more fodder for Jessica's awesome argument in The Nation--namely that some older feminist's insistence on making divisive, black vs. white arguments around the presidential election is indicative of a larger intergenerational trend in the women's movement. Younger women want to speak, breathe, and live intersectional feminism--the idea that social change emerges at the crossroads of race, class, gender, sexuality, ability etc. Some older women are stuck in a second-wave conception of feminism as wholly focused on gender and championing women no matter what the context or complexities. We see this divide showing up in women's organizations. We see this divide showing up in media coverage. And we see this divide showing up in the interpersonal, every day struggles between feminists of different generations who want to see one another and do good work together. So I ask you: What do you think? |
Tuesday, February 5
Without Wireless
Have you ever tried going without the internet for more than a day or two? I mean really-- no googlemaps to help you find the closest ATM or the nearest organic food market or Great Aunt Mabel's house since her directions were crap. No checking email, no blogging, no reading other peoples' blogs, no searching for jobs online, no searching for love online, no searching for a great deal online, no u-tube...
I mean, public libraries are great. They give you somewhere between 30 minutes and a whole hour of online time every day-- if you want to go to the library every day and do your work (and your confidential banking) on a public computer, in small chunks, if their software is compatible with what you need to get done.
So... my DSL was disconnected two weeks ago on Tuesday. And I ended up moving on that Friday. And on Sunday, we discovered that my lovely well-loved lovable computer HAD NO AIRPORT/WI-FI CARD IN IT.... so we ordered one. And it arrived on Saturday. On Sunday, we guessed at WEP passwords until the signal was established... and then rather than finally being off and running... we couldn't find any servers. WTF?
So today, we (this is the Royal We, by the way) called Customer Service. And discovered another more complex password. Which gave us BOTH a signal AND server access. I love technology. I love it even more when I have access to it.
Oh, and by the way, I love my new space. Even though I'll only be staying a couple of months. Happy February.
I mean, public libraries are great. They give you somewhere between 30 minutes and a whole hour of online time every day-- if you want to go to the library every day and do your work (and your confidential banking) on a public computer, in small chunks, if their software is compatible with what you need to get done.
So... my DSL was disconnected two weeks ago on Tuesday. And I ended up moving on that Friday. And on Sunday, we discovered that my lovely well-loved lovable computer HAD NO AIRPORT/WI-FI CARD IN IT.... so we ordered one. And it arrived on Saturday. On Sunday, we guessed at WEP passwords until the signal was established... and then rather than finally being off and running... we couldn't find any servers. WTF?
So today, we (this is the Royal We, by the way) called Customer Service. And discovered another more complex password. Which gave us BOTH a signal AND server access. I love technology. I love it even more when I have access to it.
Oh, and by the way, I love my new space. Even though I'll only be staying a couple of months. Happy February.
Thursday, January 3
Easier in an Email
...Plus it is WAY past your bedtime, and you need your sleep.
An open letter... with lots of intended recipients...
(partly because it was so cathartic to write... and partly because I realized that I owed this explanation to a lot more people than received the original email...)
Getting mad because you were offering me a suggestion about being more productive in my job hunt made me stop and think tonight. I really don't want us butting heads. I can't think of much worse that could happen, actually, for me. Not that we always have to agree, but more that you are such an important friend, and that your advice is nearly always worth listening to. The fact that I was so self-absorbed in doing things MY WAY made me wonder what exactly I was feeling so defensive ABOUT!
So... I finally realized just how NOT WELL I'm dealing with my responsibilities lately. And I suspect that any suggestions you have offered lately probably HAVE been met with grumpy resistance on my part. I wanted to apologize for that. It means a lot to me that you are always there to cheer me on-- even when I'm too stubborn and too overwhelmed to appreciate it. So... I'm going to try and be a little less self-absorbed, and a little more self-aware, and maybe be a better friend for you, too. I know you could use a good friend right now, and I haven't felt like I was really helping you much lately. You're important to me.
But, back to me. My favorite subject lately, even when you've had more important problems to discuss.
I think I'm just really afraid of the future right now. And this whole not knowing whether I'll find a job to go to or if I can really honestly support myself financially, and having to put most of my stuff in storage again-- it's all normal and fine, and it'll probably turn out okay, I know.
But it also all is very similar to the situation I was in when I moved out of my ex's apartment two years ago. Right down to the time of year. I don't have an angry, hurt husband this time-- and I think I've got more stuff, if that's possible. But I'm hoping that now I realize why I've been so paralyzed by the situations I'm currently facing, and why I've had SO MUCH fear in relation to this move and job-hunt... It's really been paralyzing. Maybe I can move forward a little better, now. Because while I know it's irrational... it's still THERE, you know?
...and maybe recognizing it will help me stop dreaming about vampires every night...
I don't know that I'll be any better about taking suggestions for a while-- I'm already so afraid of failure that sometimes I hear a desire to help as more criticism. Sad, but true. But as of February, I've decided to stop nannying. Two final days in Feb, and that's it. I'm hoping that one huge stress off my back will help me be more productive in searching for career-oriented jobs and doing what's best for me instead of doing what's easiest, the way I have done lately. Also, I'm hoping I'll have more energy to be there for you. I'm going to try not to use any more lame excuses about why I'm where I am in my job-hunt, or complain as much, either.
It's hard to admit I'm not doing everything I could be doing to improve my own situation, especial to people whose good opinion I care about as much as I do yours. So... I could be applying for more jobs than I have done so far. Three job apps in three months isn't a great average. But I have a plan for that, now. I could also spend less time reading books or watching movies or puttering around in my apartment... and have a lot more time to get the things on my list accomplished. Maybe having access to less stuff will help with that, once I move.
But mostly, I realized that I'm so tired from worrying and tired from feeling like I'm NOT meeting anybody's expectations (especially my own) and tired from getting over all the emotional shit that comes with a divorce and a graduate program and a big debt load and a new career and a new life and a new home (or two or three).... It isn't easy to face doing something new or difficult when I'm always drained. And these things just take time to work through. I should know-- I've been working through these same things for two years now. (but not the vampire dreams-- those started right after Christmas...) I probably need to sit back and recognize just how much I HAVE accomplished in the last two years, and just how far I've actually come emotionally. That might help... Anyway-
I'm going to do it. I'll get a good job, get by until then on the money I have saved up, get moved, get my shgit together, get over it... But I sorta wanted to explain to you what's going on with me lately. You may already know it, or maybe I did my whole "hide the problems" thing again, or maybe I just haven't called you in a few months-- I really don't know. Hence the long email. And the apology.
p.s.
I also finally figured out that my downstairs neighbor has been smoking at night, and that's why my allergies and my sleep are so bad all the time here. So maybe moving out will also help with some of my stress.
Glad to have you in my life. Just wanted to say that in case I haven't been acting that way lately.
-Me.
An open letter... with lots of intended recipients...
(partly because it was so cathartic to write... and partly because I realized that I owed this explanation to a lot more people than received the original email...)
Getting mad because you were offering me a suggestion about being more productive in my job hunt made me stop and think tonight. I really don't want us butting heads. I can't think of much worse that could happen, actually, for me. Not that we always have to agree, but more that you are such an important friend, and that your advice is nearly always worth listening to. The fact that I was so self-absorbed in doing things MY WAY made me wonder what exactly I was feeling so defensive ABOUT!
So... I finally realized just how NOT WELL I'm dealing with my responsibilities lately. And I suspect that any suggestions you have offered lately probably HAVE been met with grumpy resistance on my part. I wanted to apologize for that. It means a lot to me that you are always there to cheer me on-- even when I'm too stubborn and too overwhelmed to appreciate it. So... I'm going to try and be a little less self-absorbed, and a little more self-aware, and maybe be a better friend for you, too. I know you could use a good friend right now, and I haven't felt like I was really helping you much lately. You're important to me.
But, back to me. My favorite subject lately, even when you've had more important problems to discuss.
I think I'm just really afraid of the future right now. And this whole not knowing whether I'll find a job to go to or if I can really honestly support myself financially, and having to put most of my stuff in storage again-- it's all normal and fine, and it'll probably turn out okay, I know.
But it also all is very similar to the situation I was in when I moved out of my ex's apartment two years ago. Right down to the time of year. I don't have an angry, hurt husband this time-- and I think I've got more stuff, if that's possible. But I'm hoping that now I realize why I've been so paralyzed by the situations I'm currently facing, and why I've had SO MUCH fear in relation to this move and job-hunt... It's really been paralyzing. Maybe I can move forward a little better, now. Because while I know it's irrational... it's still THERE, you know?
...and maybe recognizing it will help me stop dreaming about vampires every night...
I don't know that I'll be any better about taking suggestions for a while-- I'm already so afraid of failure that sometimes I hear a desire to help as more criticism. Sad, but true. But as of February, I've decided to stop nannying. Two final days in Feb, and that's it. I'm hoping that one huge stress off my back will help me be more productive in searching for career-oriented jobs and doing what's best for me instead of doing what's easiest, the way I have done lately. Also, I'm hoping I'll have more energy to be there for you. I'm going to try not to use any more lame excuses about why I'm where I am in my job-hunt, or complain as much, either.
It's hard to admit I'm not doing everything I could be doing to improve my own situation, especial to people whose good opinion I care about as much as I do yours. So... I could be applying for more jobs than I have done so far. Three job apps in three months isn't a great average. But I have a plan for that, now. I could also spend less time reading books or watching movies or puttering around in my apartment... and have a lot more time to get the things on my list accomplished. Maybe having access to less stuff will help with that, once I move.
But mostly, I realized that I'm so tired from worrying and tired from feeling like I'm NOT meeting anybody's expectations (especially my own) and tired from getting over all the emotional shit that comes with a divorce and a graduate program and a big debt load and a new career and a new life and a new home (or two or three).... It isn't easy to face doing something new or difficult when I'm always drained. And these things just take time to work through. I should know-- I've been working through these same things for two years now. (but not the vampire dreams-- those started right after Christmas...) I probably need to sit back and recognize just how much I HAVE accomplished in the last two years, and just how far I've actually come emotionally. That might help... Anyway-
I'm going to do it. I'll get a good job, get by until then on the money I have saved up, get moved, get my shgit together, get over it... But I sorta wanted to explain to you what's going on with me lately. You may already know it, or maybe I did my whole "hide the problems" thing again, or maybe I just haven't called you in a few months-- I really don't know. Hence the long email. And the apology.
p.s.
I also finally figured out that my downstairs neighbor has been smoking at night, and that's why my allergies and my sleep are so bad all the time here. So maybe moving out will also help with some of my stress.
Glad to have you in my life. Just wanted to say that in case I haven't been acting that way lately.
-Me.
Wednesday, November 7
BTW$
By the way... in case you were wondering...
Higher One knew I'd be checking my phone for messages at 2pm last Friday.
They knew I was expecting a confirmation of wire transfer to my existing bank account, by 2pm, PST. I wanted my money back. Again.
Do Not Mess With The Angry StudentNannyLibrarianLady.
I'm determined, educated, and I have more experience using my voice to Get Things Done than you even want to imagine.
...kthxbai.
I received a phone call from Higher One at 1:47pm. Wire transfer confirmed.
I checked with my bank on Sunday. (I love online banking.)
Wire transfer received.
...I think my blood pressure went down about fifty points....
I love my Mommy Voice!
Higher One knew I'd be checking my phone for messages at 2pm last Friday.
They knew I was expecting a confirmation of wire transfer to my existing bank account, by 2pm, PST. I wanted my money back. Again.
Do Not Mess With The Angry StudentNannyLibrarianLady.
I'm determined, educated, and I have more experience using my voice to Get Things Done than you even want to imagine.
...kthxbai.
I received a phone call from Higher One at 1:47pm. Wire transfer confirmed.
I checked with my bank on Sunday. (I love online banking.)
Wire transfer received.
...I think my blood pressure went down about fifty points....
I love my Mommy Voice!
Wednesday, October 24
We Know What THAT Means
Recent additions to the list of phrases, and their history:
"Somebody oughta just pee on his shoes."
Folks, we were all sitting at my favorite Chinese Cuisine Restaurant, all twelve of us, and we were talking about that poor senator with the wide potty stance. R said (pointing out how totally NOT news-worthy the whole issue was) that if some strange guy had put his foot into R's stall, that looser would have walked away with a bloody stump. That's when I chimed in: "Or at least wet shoes!" It was a wild night, really.
"Anybody got a ziplock baggie? We could neutralize that (insert problem here) real quick!"
Now, as much as I think I'll probably say this to someone someday, it actually has to do with Crazy Aunt Purl. THIS ENTRY HERE. You gotta love the quick-thinking of the FAA when it comes to neutralizing threats to the American Public. I tell you, I'm going to carry a baggie like that with me from now on-- just in case! (You also gotta honestly appreciate that supervisor who managed to find a way to allow her to keep the offending mascara, but still meet regulation requirements in this obviously inapplicable situation.)
"He's the kind of person who'd hand in a poem for grading."
This one is a bit more obscure, but it did come up recently, for my mom. Basically, she went to a two-day workshop with a Nationally Acclaimed Poet (I think he won the Nobel prize for Poetry or something). On the first day, he asked folks to write a poem about their town. On the second day, he (being a free spirit and poet) forgot about the poems until folks asked if he could look at them after the workshop ended. And a few people actually handed their poems to him for "grading" like it had been an assignment and not an opportunity! And he did it!
Then other folks started reading their poems to him before handing them over-- which is how poetry is meant to be presented, by the way. And later that week my mom was confronted by a guy who obviously cared more about regulations and lines in the sand than about people and creative thinking. She described him to a friend from the workshop as "He's the kind of person who'd hand in a poem for grading." And now we all know what THAT means! (I enjoyed the story, but I think it took my mom a good 45 minutes on the clock to tell it, because she tells a story with such detail that you could actually have attended it yourself, whether you need those details to appreciate the punchline or not!)
Now, this list doesn't mention old favorites, because it's the NEW PHRASES list... but I'd just like to give honorable mention to "tweezers and a lemon," and omg-- I just tried to spell cuisine with a Q and a z!!! I need help. kthxbai.
"Somebody oughta just pee on his shoes."
Folks, we were all sitting at my favorite Chinese Cuisine Restaurant, all twelve of us, and we were talking about that poor senator with the wide potty stance. R said (pointing out how totally NOT news-worthy the whole issue was) that if some strange guy had put his foot into R's stall, that looser would have walked away with a bloody stump. That's when I chimed in: "Or at least wet shoes!" It was a wild night, really.
"Anybody got a ziplock baggie? We could neutralize that (insert problem here) real quick!"
Now, as much as I think I'll probably say this to someone someday, it actually has to do with Crazy Aunt Purl. THIS ENTRY HERE. You gotta love the quick-thinking of the FAA when it comes to neutralizing threats to the American Public. I tell you, I'm going to carry a baggie like that with me from now on-- just in case! (You also gotta honestly appreciate that supervisor who managed to find a way to allow her to keep the offending mascara, but still meet regulation requirements in this obviously inapplicable situation.)
"He's the kind of person who'd hand in a poem for grading."
This one is a bit more obscure, but it did come up recently, for my mom. Basically, she went to a two-day workshop with a Nationally Acclaimed Poet (I think he won the Nobel prize for Poetry or something). On the first day, he asked folks to write a poem about their town. On the second day, he (being a free spirit and poet) forgot about the poems until folks asked if he could look at them after the workshop ended. And a few people actually handed their poems to him for "grading" like it had been an assignment and not an opportunity! And he did it!
Then other folks started reading their poems to him before handing them over-- which is how poetry is meant to be presented, by the way. And later that week my mom was confronted by a guy who obviously cared more about regulations and lines in the sand than about people and creative thinking. She described him to a friend from the workshop as "He's the kind of person who'd hand in a poem for grading." And now we all know what THAT means! (I enjoyed the story, but I think it took my mom a good 45 minutes on the clock to tell it, because she tells a story with such detail that you could actually have attended it yourself, whether you need those details to appreciate the punchline or not!)
Now, this list doesn't mention old favorites, because it's the NEW PHRASES list... but I'd just like to give honorable mention to "tweezers and a lemon," and omg-- I just tried to spell cuisine with a Q and a z!!! I need help. kthxbai.
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