Saturday, January 31, 2009

Winter Notes

The winter season has never been a vast favorite but I can find it charming nonetheless. I am not a fan of the cold like some, the winter outdoor activities have never appealed - I have never even put on skis (cross country or otherwise), as I mentioned to a friend I find no reason to sled, though I like speed. I do wish to learn to ice skate but have no desire to do it outside on icy ponds.

Still I delight in watching snow fall, marvel at how beautiful bare trees are when encased in ice, particularly when the sunlight alits and makes the limbs sparkle. Shoveling is not a favored activity but I do like some physical labor and really like it when there is enough snow that one must move it in order to navigate the sidewalks and such. The Thursday before last it was delightfully warm, in the high forties to low fifties giving everyone a thin ribbon of spring fever very early in the year. After some of the brutally cold single digits, even going negative, we had just had this was a welcome reminder that it would not always be that cold. Then began the predication of much snow. Since moving to Ohio I have not seen what I consider a lot of snow, and no major ice storms so despite my less than graceful adaption back to winter temperatures I have not found winter so bad. On Tuesday we had snow, not a lot but it was pretty. Then came a freezing rain or sleet, or whatever it's called that adds that terribly frustrating layer of ice atop everything. This was followed by more snow. On Wednesday we had what I consider a reasonable amount of snow, maybe 6-8 inches here in our neighborhood; north of us got 9+ inches which I would have loved, except for the shoveling. The other thing I have noted is the snow here is usually light and fluffy. Not once have we gotten the heavy slushy type of snowfall that feels like one is moving wet cement from around their car - I consider this a plus to living in this area.

I love the quiet that snow brings with it. Cars move slower with more attention, fewer people are bounding about, and there is something about the particular winter sky right after a snow fall that is ethereal and still. All the usual sounds are either in hiding or muffled by the layer of crystallized water covering everything. The sun glints off the fresh sun fooling us into thinking there is mica mixed in with the frost. Except for walking the dog I have remained homebound delighting in the quiet, secreting loving that the cars are covered by a snow-ice-snow layer. It has been with a mix of sadness and thrill that I walked on untreaded snow on the greenway while I alternatively walk inside of others' footsteps and strike out on virgin territory. Because of the ice that fell between the snows sometimes my footstep sink, crushing the false shelf of stability; other times, where it is thicker, I feel inches taller as my perspective changes with the added height.

Yesterday I noted how similar snow can be to sand - it polar opposite in one's ideas of ideal landscapes, vacations and temperatures. In the street, where the walking is some of the easiest the snow has been churned up by tires and has the gritty texture of dampened sand. The soft crunch under my feet is satisfyingly dense and reminds me of beaches on both coasts, though in truth it probably more similar to the collection of sand on the boardwalks, bathroom stations and other sites further from the water's edge. From there I head to the greenway and walk the virgin area where the snow now resembles the sand dunes on Cape Cod - weightless and easily blown about by wind, my foot gently submerges briefly before kicking up a wisp of snowy crystals as I step.

This morning I woke, knowing by the way the light was falling that it was before 8am though I had no clock by my head to confirm it. I had given up on falling back to sleep despite how I love and crave sleep because it just seemed to beautifully quiet to miss. As I walked the dog this morning I watched my breath as I exhaled but this time carefuly noted as the breeze carried it to and from. I wondered how I had failed to notice this before after all the times I seen my breath but never bothered to watch it dance on air.

Saturday, January 24, 2009

It's A New Day

Two weeks ago today I was nervous. At 11:00 that morning I had an appointment with the psychiatrist at the crisis center I had been to the Monday before and given what a treat (NOT) that had been I was hesitant despite the so-called therapist and the apparently competent nurse telling how wonderful this doctor was.

Happily they were right, the doctor was calm, efficient with a kind face. I was also in much better spirits and better able to present myself, which no doubt helped her assessment of me - "You clearly have a good handle on your issues and know what you need to do to take care of yourself". That is very true, I just forget to actually take care of myself sometimes. As we were going over my medication she noted that the therapist (what a peach, again NOT) had written a different one. Smiling, I said, after correcting her three times I gave up. The doctor nodded. In that visit I also learned that my medication had gone generic and would only cost me $4 for a 30 day supply. I was doing proverbial cartwheels for hours about that information. One of the things I had been dreading was figuring out how to pay for happy pills that I expected to run more like $100 a month on no income. Did I mention we are both still out of work?

It has been almost two weeks since I started back on the medication, and a few days on the full dose (side effects required me to build up to the appropriate dosage). Yesterday I noticed that I was feeling happy in a way that had been largely missing for what feels like forever, but in reality has been a few months. The other day I noticed that my food cravings have changed. This was a positive side effect that I remember the strongest from the very first time I went on anti-depressants - I lost my food cravings which are clearly most emotionally driven and some of my appetite. It was an enormous revelation to me as someone who has battled with disordered thinking around food and my weight for the majority of my life. The other day I went to pick up some soda for Her Geekyness and thought "hm, ice cream sounds good". However the reality was that was patterned thinking because I walked away from the ice cream case empty headed. Me, no ice cream! Seriously for those who don't know me in real life, I consider ice cream a food group. I have since bought ice cream to have on hand but I recognized this moment as a sign that the pills are doing something positive.

This morning I got up first and took Puppyman for his morning stroll and damn if it wasn't beautiful out. The sky was all shades of light blue with cloud ranging from wispy white to deep pearl gray. The light was bright despite the sun being largely covered by a band of gray. The trees were bare, their silhouettes looking elegant in the morning light. It was a perfect winter morning except that the recent warm days had melted away the snow. There was a barest suggestion of snow falling, so slight one could think that were seeing things. The air was still and no one else was out but us. Everywhere I looked the sky was beautifully different in it's shading and clouds, the sunlight lit the house and tree limbs subtly.

It is a new day.



Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Holding my breath with hope

The television is on, it's early, nothing is really happening but yet everything is changing. My heart randomly seems to stop, tears well up at nothing in particular. The last time I watched an inauguration was Clinton's with his promises and charm; what I remember was hope and Maya Angelou. Now I am glued to the television. I am moved and fearful.

"The people we are waiting for is us". That piece of Obama's message was just stated again and it was projected that it will be a theme in his speech. That would certainly echo Kennedy's "ask not what your country can do for you but what will you do for your country" theme. It is a far cry from Bush's style of engagement with this country. We will just leave it that.

This is a day I always hoped for, very much tied in my mind with the hope of a woman president for this country, since I was a child. Raised in a democratic household, an academic household, and a feminist household gave me a sense of the injustice in the world but also they somehow managed to cultivate my innate hopefulness in humanity. That hopefulness, my optimistic nature has been scoffed even by my father who said a number of times that I would outgrow what he called my naivete. I would like to think that I have not.

My mother's first political activism was campaigning for Kennedy even though she was not old enough to vote (one had to be 21 years old at that time). She felt so connected to him that she sent him a birth announcement when I was born. it is had for me to imagine, even today doing the same with any president. I suppose it was a different time, or perhaps it was more about how connected one can feel to a public figure. It is true that I feel like I could actually have a conversation with Obama, but my mother's act feels like a stretch and yet I can imagine people sending birth announcement to him as she did all those years ago. She also received a formal acknowledgement from the White House. It is postmarked 11 days before he was assassinated.

Growing up my parents marched for civil rights, the women's movement, and against the Vietnam War. I went to a number of these events, though I remember little of them I am certain that they contributed to who I am today. I have no conscious memory of King's or RKF's assisnations but they too shaped me as they were topics that ran our kitchen table. Vocal condemnations rang out again Nixon and his politics. When Shirley Chisholm was campaigning her image littered our home, buttons on labels, and words of hope whispered, shouted. Stories that though my grandfather was a white European, an escapee from Dachau, he was so dark (helped by lying in the sun at every opportunity) that he and my grandmother were refused service. Even looking not white enough left one vulnerable to prejudice.

Today we have an African-American president. How did we get here? I don't actually know the answer, on a really deep profound level. I really don't. I am awed that we are but I also do not think this changes everything. Not even close but what a start to the potential new world. Now my heart has regulated, the tears have stopped (mostly), and my breathing is easier (again, mostly) because he is now officially our president and it does change everything regardless what happens next.

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Enter? I think not.

Seriously, I mean I just cannot begin to fathom would possess anyone to okay this design. It is not as though I ever thought the Bratz dolls were an ideal toy, and certainly they wound up being desired and purchased for much younger children than the presumed market. Or were they? So hard to know what toy is really geared to what ages given the number of "spa" and make up like products geared to the under 8 years old set. I did kind of dig their weird proportions, so clearly not life like versus Barbies who look more like (on first glance) and designed as a "realistic" body ideal (though they are not). Mostly I thought the look reminded me of the lollipop heads label being thrown on women (mostly starlets and stars) who are scary thin. Not any better I grant you.

In the comments in the article were not surprising, especially the people who said the woman quoted in the article deserved the dilemma since she was unconscious enough to buy the doll in the first place. While there is that high and mighty piece of me which agrees wholeheartedly, a large piece thinks of that saying which includes words like: stone, cast, first. Really is there anyone who's parenting we totally agree with? I mean assuming you could live on their shoulder for a couple of weeks, not just what you see during visits or what they write about on their blogs. Probably no one. Would I buy any of these dolls for my child? My niece? No I would not. Would I ascribe to all my philosophies full on given the stress of life, the whine of the child (because though my parenting skills so far are stellar, children are born with their own personalities which means we only have so much control), lack of private time to regroup? Sadly, I am certain I would not. As much as I would like to do otherwise I know I would use the television too much, I would not read to my child every day, and would not go for walks every day talking about the species of trees, the migration habits of birds, and collecting autumn leaves to preserve in wax later while sipping warm cider.

However given the realities of the world today I would be tempted to sew all of her clothes, think hard about homeschool networks, and give up cable. And I would not be buying or receiving toys of this nature. Mostly because you know, I don't want strangers making comments on internet about what a slacker feminist parent I am.

Friday, January 09, 2009

Are You There Blog, It's Me Dharma?

Hi,

I know it's been awhile. Too long really. Okay first thing that I need to tell is that I am no longer employed. Yes, it's true. No, I didn't walk. On New Year's Eve I was informed that this understaffed company was going to take three positions into two so I was out. On some level I must have tasted something in the air. I had decided to take Friday, January 2nd off and give myself another 4 day weekend so I was clearing up my desk, tidying up. A lot. I had even tucked the Moderator Training manual in my bag to move it to home since I had gotten to keep a copy after setting up that event. Given the new situation I wrote to the powers that be that I would come in briefly on Friday to finish cleaning up email and leaving a status report on my various projects. I was fully assured it was a "it's not you, it' me" type of break up. They are very happy with my performance, my decision to come back in fit with the level of professionalism I had display, blah, blah. The temp agency is totally happy with me. The job was stressing me to the max so except for the lack of income thing, this is pretty good.

It's not like I had any problem telling dear blog that I was let go, I think it was a lot of exhaustion and perhaps that I treat you sometimes like my dearest friends - I don't talk when I am depressed and going through a lot. Don't get me wrong I am still a bit depressed though without the stress from this job, it's better.

Monday I jumped through a series of fiery hoops in an effort to procure my happy pills. This acrobatic adventured culminated in a visit to the local crisis care center which is probably the most surreal experience of my entire life, which includes tripping on mushrooms and taking the NYC subway system to the East Village. We shall leave it at that as I am not sure I can write it in any way that can convey how warped an experience it is and that some people should not be in counseling.

This week I have also applied for five jobs. So far one is a bit of scheme which purports to turn you into a business coach, giving you all the tools it cost about $29K. Ha, yeah right. The other was one I had written off, but my friend Maria Niles nudged me about told me she wouldn't listen to my protests that I was under qualified. My friend Jennie graciously edited my cover letter into something wonderful and amazing. Withing minutes I received a "thanks for playing" response. Sigh. I suppose it was at least good for me to brave my insecurities and go for it. In that same vein I asked the trainer from the Moderator training to join my Linked In network, which he did. Again, something I usually would think about but never really do. So I am breaking my boundaries, challenging my insecurities and putting on a good face.

More later.

love
Dharma

Sunday, December 28, 2008

Work is Hell

It's been a long week. Work has been absolutely awful, as in coming home in tears on Monday. I feel so completely crumbled, torn down by that place; there are small moments of competency, or even a fraction of a second of flow, but mostly I just try to get through each day without breaking down, without walking out in a blaze of curses, without a broken soul. There are bargains made within myself about how long I will, how I will negotiate if ever actually offered the job.

Sometimes I feel like I am living someone else's life and I am not sure how I got here. Who is that person getting up and putting on make up everyday, who is that woman with the closest to chic and hip haircut I have ever seen in the mirror, who is that person picking up clothes the night before. There is no way I know that person who has to remember to take out the nose piercing all the freaking time for work. I cannot figure out where my time goes, aside from work and sleep. How did I once do other things beside work when I last had a full time job? Seriously? I did a lot of things it seems, plus often had a second job for periods of time. Okay, the other full time jobs where not as stressful every damned day which certainly helps to not feel souless at the end of the day, which in turn gives one energy to do other things.

The other day I realized that part of the problem with this place is that there is no intrinsic pay off, just a paycheck. I am not the person that can live like that long term. I do not feel like I am doing bits of good, or supporting associations that actually really make a difference in the world (okay, getting rid of termites is a good thing but not the kind of difference I am talking about). It occurs to me that I need to fill out that application for CASA that I received right after Thanksgiving. Now that is the kind of change, difference I can get behind. Which means it is, of course, a volunteer thing. However if I did something like CASA again maybe a job like this one, but not necessarily this one, bearable.

Right now I need to head upstairs, pick out an outfit so I can go to bed in order to get up in the morning where I will need to run to an office supply store to find pretty invitations that can run on a laser printer for an event that is in less than 3 weeks because that damn association is nuts because if they weren't I could have had the invitations I spent three hours drafting mailed out already. Yes the same association that emailed me at 4:26 Friday December 19th asking "where are we on sending out holiday cards". No they had never said a word about sending holiday cards before that email. Tomorrow I will tell my supervisor that I am taking Friday off so I can have another 3 day work week in a desparate attempt to stay working for them. Tomorrow I will come home and do something fun, or interesting, or in some way satisfying having nothing to do with work.

Saturday, December 20, 2008

Why I dig social media

Someone I know on an email list wrote about not liking texting/quick phones of the "I just left class" genre, not understanding the appeal of Facebook, etc. She talked about the lack of deep connection in her life, that she longs for debates with friends, about how she doesn't miss PTA meetings becuase the small talk about killed her. What follows is my response:

I completely understand wanting, craving deeper connection- it is that lack that makes living in Dayton so hard. The friends I have the deepest, long term connections with live far away. Through Facebook I have begun reconnecting with someone with whom I once shared a good bond but as our connective social circumstances shifted we had with one brief exception no real contact in a good 15 years until now where through Facebook we are learning about who and where we are now. Another bonus is that she lives about 3 hour drive from me, or maybe less I don't remember.

With the help of Facebook I am growing my connection with a few people from here (in fact some of them are invading our home the weekend between christmas and new year's - again please excuse the house!). [Here means the list I originally posted this on.]

So while Facebook, email, this list, Twitter* are not the same by any means as having deep conversations in person or even over the phone, it gives me ties that hold me in place - literally and figuratively, eases my sense of isolation, encourages me to reach out more than I would by sending random emails or finding backbone to call people. Like here, I am "meeting" people via these places as which helps. Without Ravelry* I don't think I would have survived this move. The online world is not, absolutely not the same but it can become a vehicle for real life connection.

*I am "dharmawrites" on both Twitter and Ravelry, in case you want to connect with me there.

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

In which our heroine is, well trying to be a heroine

Yesterday work just about crushed me with the weight of the unknown, the largess that is it's disorganization, the impending week of stress. It is trying thing for me to feel incompetent and yet that is mostly how I feel at this job. Sure I have moments of smooth running but they are not many and the feeling does not last long.

Up notes

  • Delighted with the pianist I found for the President's Party in January
  • May have gotten invited to a cocktail event at the Banker's Club on Saturday
  • My Boys (TM) help get me through the day

Down notes

  • Following last year's model for a task as I was told granted me a ton of grief (a repeating motif)
  • Trying to find a simple file took at least 10 minutes because of someone's inane idea of appropriate way to store things on a computer (a repeating motif)
  • Tomorrow I need to be Cincinnati by 7:00 a.m. until about 5:00 p.m. where upon I need to come back to the office to load up my vehicle so I can prep for the breakfast meeting on Thursday which means I need to be a the hotel (local thank the goddesses without husbands) for 6:00 a.m. The breakfast is immediately followed by a committee meeting, then I go back to the office until 5:00 p.m. If I was not a temporary employee I would get no overtime or comp time at this place.
  • I have no background in Pagemaker or InDesign yet I need to produce a "wow" invitation to be printed this week for a January 17th event - an event I have no information on except date and place right now.
There's a ton more but it paints a picture doesn't it? One of My Boys (TM) JP said I looked beaten down yesterday. I wish I was better at hiding my feelings about this job but I'm not, at least not in front of my coworkers. Each day I take many deep breaths, I literally shake off things that get throw at me, gripe and make jokes with My Boys (TM) but I have not found my Zen about this place. Each day I challenge myself with goals about staying, which range from another hour, all the way through six months. Mostly I feel a huge sense of accomplishment when I wake up in the morning knowing I will go back there. If only I could keep that sense of fullness for more than 5 minutes at a time. I suppose I should embrace the 5 minutes and focus on those moments. Actually I do because if I didn't reflect on them several times a day, I would have walked out already. Maybe I'm greedy thinking that work should be more satisfying but most of my other work has been or I've walked. Maybe my memory is fuzzy but I don't remember a place being such a nightmare from day one and every day like this one is but I suspect because I haven't experienced it at this level before in my work life. I have had sucky jobs but I expected them to suck (the Deb Shop in the Hampshire Mall comes to mind where I lasted 3 months working part time).

So I try to come up with schemes that would make it liveable to stay here. Mostly they include working less than 40 hours and dropping an association or two. If I could do that I would be able to lose the feeling of doing a really bang up job followed immediately by the sense of impending doom by all that is overdue somewhere else. It would be nice if I felt confident that I could make that proposal and it would be accepted. Instead I will focusing on getting prepped for the next two days, doing what I can before I leave, then I will focus on getting through until Friday. No promises about next week, sorry.


Sunday, December 14, 2008

Bullet Points

Lila, our newest baby, is just so damn cute and has the bluest eyes.

How does one lose a 4 foot curtain rod?

I {heart} my knit groups.

Because I'm i
nsane I just cast on a holiday yesterday and as soon as I find my size 5 short circular needles will cast on another one. According to my files on Ravelry I have 9 (soon to be 10) works in progress.

Wednesday I almost walked away from my job. The post event email I received was that bad. Truly.

Because of a flip comment in an email we will have our first real company in Ohio and I can't wait but I wish some of those folks from HGTV would come over quick. This place hasn't been painted in a decade, there's the half assed wall paper removal happening in the kitchen.

Without "My Boys" at work there is no way I would have lasted there at all. They help made that crazy place fun.

Penn Station makes the most awesome artichoke subs.



Yesterday I scored the best deal on shoes. One pair normally goes for about $90, for me? $20. They look kinda like these to the left. Great for work and everyday. Wore them to knit night today, love them!




The second pair goes for about $60 but I scored them for $12.50 and look like high heeled oxfords - great for work when I need to be dressy.

Have I mentioned I lovelovelove shoes?

Now off to bed so I can face the job.






Tuesday, December 09, 2008

Haunted Streets

Lately when I take Puppyman (aka Wyatt) for a night walk he has been stopping at the beginning of the Greenway to stare across the street in the direction of Brommel Park. I never see anything moving or hear any noises. It takes a few tugs to get him moving. It takes a few more psychic tugs for me to shake the feelings his studious gaze to the north inspire.

Last night I took him out and he did not stop in his tracks however I was spooked by something else. Three darkly dressed children, the youngest was probably no more than six years old, walking, slowly rather aimlessly at 9:30 at night on a weeknight. They might be the kids who are often running after a dog that has escaped and they probably live on Wyoming. But tonight there was no dogs with them, nor were they calling for a lost pooch. There was something rather dangerous in a haunted aura sort of way about them. Their slow movement and dark clothes reminded me of a movie I could not remember but something along the lines of The Riches television which I opted out of following because the desperately dark story lines, the edge of total disaster caused me too much anxiety to watch it. It also recalled the episode of CSI where a house is surrounded by homeless people.

Tonight we reached the spot where he often stops but tonight he was paralyzed. No amount of tugging, coaxing would get him to move. He was smelling something that was absolutely compelling. Giving up I went to turn around and go home but then I thought I would try to distract him a bit and try looping around on the grass rather than trying to get him to walk on the path. Nope he wasn't having any of that either. He headed to cross the street and went to the infamous (in this house) white house and we walked to it's back yard which leads to the alley and back to our house.

My imagination tends to run rampant anyway so as Wyatt sniffed suspiciously my mind became a swirl of activity thinking of wild animals leaving scents (the cemetery one block south has been known to have fox); pheromones of fear left during a mugging (which almost never happens in this neighborhood); to obscure twisted tales that couldn't even fully form in the time I was standing there in the damp, chilled air at the same time I was trying to fathom how to get the dog to move.

Are there energies there that only beings like dogs and babies can sense? Are there deep dramas going on there? Scandalous rendezvouses? Or simple some new animal who we just keep missing who is giving off compelling scents. No way to know but it casts a whole different light on my neighborhood after dark.

Friday, December 05, 2008

It's the small things

We went to the tavern and came home to a huge mess compliments of Puppyman. I am so furious I can hardly talk. The dumping of the cat food bowls is nothing new, annoying and messy but nothing meaningful. He moved my bag to get to a tupperware container located inside that had some chicken and noodles. I decided to be responsible and take it home rather than let it sit around in the office fridge over the weekend. However I was not responsible enough, or perhaps too tired, to remember to take it out of my bag when I got home. Now we have one less awesome piece of rock 'n serve, which sucks.

But the worst of it is that he ripped my bag, which he didn't need to do because the zipper was open. It was a big canvas duffel with a flower print in mauves, pinks, and browns with nice handles that allowed me to carry it on my shoulder. The bag was good for short overnight trips, it held a number of knitting projects along with whatever else I might need for any given day.

Most importantly of all it came from my grandmother's home. I no longer remember whether I snagged from her enormous collection soon before she died, or whether I took after her death when we were doing some cleaning of her hoarder's apartment where the walls were suffocating with her endless piles. It was one of the most tasteful things she owned. Honestly. She had a lot of a lot of things but most of it was cheap and tacky. I called it my Mary Poppin's bag because it could hold an amazing array of things for all occasions if I cared to stock it that way; because it was the closest thing I have ever had to a carpet bag, an item that holds romantic, bohemian imagery and longing in my heart. Yes it had it's faults and I confess to looking here and there for something that better suited for the purposes I needed, but my attachment to this item went far beyond practical needs.

Tomorrow I will look at it again to see if a repair is possible. I will also look for a new bag. If I can do both I will hold both realities - the one that truly suits my needs and the one is attached to my heart.

Thursday, December 04, 2008

How to care just the right amount

Balance seems to be the theme of my life right now. Yesterday I worked 13.5 hours so I rewarded myself by going in an hour late. I felt like I totally paid for that when I received a long email from the president of my company with a thousand and one details that needed to be checked up for the event on Tuesday. Let's just ignore the part where there should be an established check list in the files for this event as they have been doing it forever and I just started a month ago. As well as another email ragging on how I did not follow the procedure correctly on one of their systems. Never mind I didn't even know about this system until Monday afternoon, tried to accommodate the request using said system on Tuesday and busted my butt to finish it on Wednesday before leaving at 3 for a different event.

While trying not to curse out loud, while trying to not cry in utter frustration I turned her brain dump email into a table with columns for draft dates, proofing responsibility, etc. I sent it her and received a positive comment about how it would certainly prove to be a useful document to have. Also she noted that as the event manager it was my responsibility to make sure it was all done and that some items were already late. Um, excuse me but I did not have a reference for 80% of the tasks or know of a place that anywhere that had all that data, and if it existed as it certainly should (since they have been doing this event for literally over 10 years) it should have been known to me long before 3 working days before the frigging event!

Did I mention their "training" sucks? That files are buried under seven layers of directories? That this place functions in crisis mode, a lot?

In the end I threw my hands up several time about several things spanning two associations and quite a few events. I stayed half an hour late which mean the net gain of time off today was half an hour. Most people who work here work late, a lot. The place is understaffed and needs a major dose of organizational management to restructure how it runs things. So how do I do enough work to keep things running reasonably, but not trying for a level of perfection that cannot be done here? How do I accept the limitations of not just myself but the whole company since there is little hope of things changing here. Things could run better but it would require someone, even little old me, to look over all the systems and create calendars for each association which would then be coalesced to figure out the crunch times and make recommendations on how to shift staffing, hire more employees, how to incorporate temps during heavy work times. Something, anything like that would help so much.

But since the likelihood of that happening is close to nil, how to I make this work in way that won't make me crazy. I am writing up notes by association where things are summarized, as I learn them; building calendars for events. To do my job reasonably well and work on creating systems because I just need to do that but be able to let it go when I leave, to not feel like I'm on an emotional roller coaster while there, to have things roll off my back and not really touch me. That is the trick, that is my zen riddle.

Wednesday, December 03, 2008

Levels of assumption

Way back when I heard that one of the ways class gets demonstrated is how one finds a telephone number. It was posited that a lower soci-economic class person would use the phone book (remember those?) and an upper class person would call the operator.

Today was my first experience with the entrepreneurial association and I am their event manager. The event was held at a country club, a venue I'm not sure I have ever been to, ever. I have since learned it is a rather exclusive one at that. It was so clear that the people from this association have money, make major money. It was a joint event with another sibling organization whose guidelines I am not familiar with but for ours I know the members need to be owners, CEO, or a major share holder in a business that grosses at least one million and are under 50 years old. These folks read like that too. So did their spouses, who with one exception, were fashionably thin; who were with one exception perfectly stylish. With one exception the members appeared to all be white; with one exception one spouse appeared to all be white.

The other group had some stickers for spousal name tags since they had left the other format at their office about 2 hours away. At one point a spouse (yes all the spouses were women, and 98% of the members that came to this event were male) folded up a sticker tag that wasn't needed and without even looking for a trash container she handed it to me without even looking at me. It was so clear that as far as she was concerned I was merely staff and would of course handle cleaning up after her. It would have never occurred to me to act like that, to assume someone else would take care of my trash.

In the car returning from the event, my co-worker and I were chatting. Being me, I couldn't help stating out loud how white the event was though I did couch it to suggest that perhaps it was related to the area -southern Ohio and northern Kentucky. He chuckled and said something like "You're not used to that, are you?". No, no I'm not. I noted that wasn't shocked. He said perhaps I a bit surprised. I was but only because I like to be optimist and just because it made sense that this group would be all white did not mean that I had to expect it.

Which leads me to think, would I expect the behavior from a black woman that I received at this event? Probably not but then again I did not expect it from a white woman. It's not that I was surprised exactly but shocked at stereotype being played out.

It's been a very long day what with being on the job from 8am -9:30pm. My bed is softly calling me now. 'Night.

Tuesday, December 02, 2008

CASA in the casa?

During the four days I had off from work I wallowed, I waxed, and I waned. On one of the more waxy days I contacted my local CASA office. This is something I thought about doing when I lived in Massachusetts and California but hadn't gotten to it somehow.

Yesterday I received an email about my inquiry. This line made me laugh:
Do you have some flex in your schedule?
Flexibility? At this job? For such an honorable activity? Yeah right. But I can do the application and if I pass muster then I will do the training. I don't know what the future holds and this is something I want to do so why put off these steps. No reason at all. The most daunting part is the 36 hours of training: 6-9pm on Mondays and Wednesdays and three hours on Saturdays for the month of March. I checked the work calendar I emailed myself the first week on the job and I don't think any of the events fall on the training days. Of course who knows for sure if I will still be in March. Or I could be there and I will still be doing things to move myself in a forward direction.

Way back in about 1994 or so I trained with Massachusetts Department of Social Services to become a volunteer foster care case reviewer. Since I working at the Smith College School for Social Work I didn't expect a hassle for using my lunch hour, give or take, to do this activity. I didn't get a hassle either. It was not an easy volunteer experience, many of the cases broke my heart, caused an internal wrestling to find the "right" answer, which of course was really only the best answer at that given moment. Sometimes it was inspiring. When I finally ended my service there, which wasn't too long before I left the area in 2001, I felt good about it but knew I had only contributed a drop in the bucket. But a drop is still one that wouldn't be there unless someone had stepped up. Volunteering with CASA would allow me to once again put a drop in the bucket. It's a small drop but a worthy one.



Monday, December 01, 2008

Starting at the beginning

It's December 1st and the first day to try a new attitude about work. I will confess the positivity is not flowing freely. Perhaps a cwaptastic night of sleep is to blame in part. though right at the moment I am distracted, happily, by my three light colored kittens almost playing together - quite a breakthrough. And the moment has passed as they are each on their merry way. Perhaps that is a reminder to take each moment, and try to find some joy even if it is brief.

I have been thinking of writing a post about how my dog is my daily zen lesson but perhaps it really is the cats. I am more of cat person by nature anyway. Marcelle came up on the bed this morning for a cuddle. Instead of craving sleep or crabbing about having to wake up, I found happiness in petting her, having her sniff my face and tentatively lick at the combination of sleep and tears in my eye. After walking the dog, and attempting to find some zen in that moment that was cold and dark, I sat on the couch to check email. Lila, the newest baby - she is still so small, came up on my lap for her morning check in as she often does. She is the one that is truly "my" cat of the six (yes I said six, yes I know we moved here with only four) and I appreciate having that special bond so much it is hard to explain to folks who aren't cat, or even animal people. She is staring at me while she sits on the dog bed now while I type. She just ran over to squeak in my face and sit on my hands as I type.

Sorry I just had to pet her. So often I wish I could take her to work with me. It wouldn't work on so many levels but I swear it would make my day better. She is sitting on my left wrist as a type now, batting at her own tail.

It's now time to get dressed and put a face on. My lunch got packed last night, just need to grab it. Melissa, I am going to give it all that I have today but I may wind up crying in the bathroom at some point. It's just where I am right now.

Sunday, November 30, 2008

Putting One Foot In Front of the Other

Tomorrow is Monday. It is also the first of December meaning the end of NaBloPoMo, NaKniSweMo and NaKnitMo. In addition it means I made it through my first month (well almost given the four days off I just had) of work. Just the adjustment to work and its associated stress levels, that alone would have been, and has been, a lot. With this post I have completed my third NaBloPoMo "event" and I am rather proud of that. This one has been a rather emotional, self involved one but I think some inroads have been made.

As to the other two National Months, not quite as much was done but again given the above I'm pretty satisfied. I finished Owen's sweater, Miche's shawl is about 85% done, I actually did a little work on the sweater for Her Geekyness that I started last November for NaKniSweMo, and I cast on the matching sweater for Henry, Owen's little brother.

If I have picked up any new readers (I hardly ever check my stats),thanks for coming by and I hope you stick around. For my long time readers, I know I navel gazed a lot so I thank you for your indulgence.

Remember tomorrow is World AIDS Day. Take a moment to honor those who have died, those who are living with AIDS, consider making a donation or volunteering. Never assume that you don't know someone with AIDS.

Saturday, November 29, 2008

An Eye on the Present, and the Future

A few days ago I received a direct message on Twitter from an online friend of about three years asking me to email her about life coaching. In essence she was offering me a session. I plead poverty. She responded by expressing a belief in "paying it forward". With tears in my eyes I accepted the offer. We have never spoken on the phone, never met in person. This afternoon was our phone call.

She was able to coalesce a whole lot of angst and stress very well and with a lot of empathy. The upshot is that ultimately I will pursue a degree and license to become a therapist. But what I need to do right now is face life a day a time; to stop trying to prepare for every contingency, hedging bets, etc.

Everyday before opening the day to my office I will shake off negativity, go there with a smile, do my work in the best way possible. My first goal is to get through the next month or so in order to actually get the job. After that just focus on getting through until June before talking to them about any summer time off for my other job. If I can't get the time I will have at least been financially solvent (relatively) during this time which is an area of big stress so that if negotiations fall apart I will be in a better place and at a point where I start getting paid by DNE. She also pointed out that after six months I might have made connections for a job elsewhere as a planner that would better fit my long term goals, but even if not, all the above will still be true as well.

In addition to that I had been thinking about ways to make this work and fit in other things that are important to me. Once upon a time I worked full time and managed to cook, garden, and who knows what else (hey it was a long time ago!). How can I do that now? That's another piece that I have been contemplating. Of course part of it involves getting up earlier which is a bit of a challenge;
I want to do some stretching, pilates or something in the morning before work. The other place that is going to take some work is planning meals better. Okay at all. It has all fell to Her Geekyness. (No she hasn't found another job yet, so if y'all have any leads, let me know!) Which is reasonably fair given how stressful and exhausting this job has been, is not a state I want to keep and once she starts working won't be possible.

Aside from all this practical stuff, it was so wonderful to talk to Melissa live. Sometimes when I actually talk to someone I have known online their voice doesn't fit my imagination and it takes a bit to realign perceptions with reality. There was none of that dissonance talking her. She just sounded like Melissa. It is sweet to have bonds confirmed when you take them deeper.

Time to make a life calendar so I can stay in shape, meditate, eat well, and be a happier me. (M - let me know if I missed anything or misremembered something 'kay?)

Friday, November 28, 2008

Stuck

Sorry folks, I got nothing tonight. There are a few random things but nothing really compelling. I hope to have something tomorrow but until I know, I'm not talking about it.

Tired. Really tired. Sleep is going back to it's usual lousy state of waking often. Actually I have already dreamt about work. Great huh?

Thanksgiving yesterday was really nice despite my concerns and whiny of the other day.

One way or the other I will have something more exciting to read next post. At least I really hope so. Inspiration just isn't there tonight. The hefty glass of white wine over at the Tavern probably isn't helping.

See you on the 'morrow.

Thursday, November 27, 2008

Thankful Thursday

It is thanksgiving so it's of course that is a focus for many of us today. As hard as things have been internally for me, I am still grateful for many things. I am amazed by how people can show up in your life in unexpected ways that ooze with love and acceptance.

My goal is be more like for other people. I know I can be a good friend, but I think I need to focus more outward than inward in order to create some redirection in my world. I have not seriously volunteered since moving here and that would be a good place to start. (However I am about to become a liaison for HSPI with the South East Priority Board, so that's something.) Perhaps I will look into being a CASA which is something I have been looking at for a long time. I just plugged in my contact information so maybe I'll get a call soon.

My list:
- family
- friends
- my furry children
- my blog/twitter/internet friends who continue to amaze me
- that I have a home to live that has character even if it's chilly as all get out
- m optimism which is has been a little lacking but is never gone