So, the voices are gone now, hooray!  We spent the morning touring a potential school for Geeky Girl.  It was, I must say, a really nice experience.  And she thought so too.  We shall see what happens.  It’s late in the application period.  We’ve been back and forth on it quite a few times and if it doesn’t happen this year, there’s always next year.

After the tour, I headed over to *$ with my laptop and did some reworking of a couple of sections.  I made it to the end of the 2nd big section.  Hooray!  So that made me feel pretty good.  The next section is messier in parts, so I think it’s going to take more work, but I feel like I’m making actual progress.

I’m feeling much more like life is just going to fall into place however it is, and that I can do what I can, but there’s a lot I don’t have control over.  I can work hard, follow my passions, be honest with myself and others, and that’s really all I can do.  Something will come of it.

29. April 2010 · 6 comments · Categories: Uncategorized · Tags: ,
My weekend workstation
Image by lorda via Flickr

Yesterday, as I was walking the dog, I started an internal dialogue with myself.  I was debating what to spend my time on.  Just moments before my walk, I’d been writing, mostly revising, and I hit a section that needed a complete overhaul.  And then I glanced down at a page from the previous section and a sentence that needed some major work jumped out at me.  And suddenly, the whole project felt daunting.  And I wanted to continue working on it, but then, I wanted to paint, and I needed to do laundry, and, and, and.  Swirling in my head were various thoughts about money, work, things that pay off and things that don’t.  And by the end, I had put the writing in the things that don’t pay off category.  To be fair, I also put laundry in that category.

So I got home and I called Mr. Geeky to have lunch because damn, I needed to get the voices out of my head.  He had plans.  He offered to cancel and I said, no, that’s okay.  Are you sure? Yes, really, it’s okay.  So I hung up the phone, stared at my computer screen, and little tears started dripping down my face.  Not sobs, just little tears over I didn’t know what.  I cursed the hormones that likely caused this downswing in mood and started contemplating going to Starbucks to write, damnit.  Then I sighed, because the voices started up again about how that would be a waste of time.  And then the phone rang.  It was Mr. Geeky, saying he’d cancelled his lunch plans because his wife sounded sad.

And then we had Thai food and writing went back into the things that might pay off category and right after lunch, a job prospect called me back.  And so the world became somewhat right again.

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I’ve had some rough PuGs in the last few days.  In one ToC PuG where I’d taken my DK, no one admitted to not knowing the fight even though someone asked.  When we all died in the middle of it, it was clear that not everyone knew the fight.  Still, the leader only said to do one thing differently, which helped, but didn’t solve everything.  That fight is immediately followed by another with no break.  In the second fight, two worms appear and they each need to be tanked.  As far as I could see, only one worm was being tanked.  The other one I kept aggroing.  So, naturally, dead.  Also in that fight, there’s a complicated disease situation where when one gets the disease, you need to run to someone with a different disease to cancel it out.  No one explained this.  And I’m guessing that since a lot of people didn’t know the first fight, they didn’t know the second fight either.  And the leader, who was one of the tanks, didn’t say, Okay, I’m gonna tank this worm, you, other tank, tank the other worm.  Everyone just assumed that people would figure it out and/or do what was needed.  In addition, the healers (both priests) were not using the most effective heals.  When I looked at their stats, they both were using things frequently that one only uses every once in a while because they’re slow and ineffective.  Still, we might have overcome that with a little communication.  It was frustrating all the way around and about a half-hour or so of my time wasted.

My next failure was in HoR, a really difficult dungeon all the way around.  I was healing.  When I’d come in, the dungeon was in progress, and in fact, the group had just experienced a wipe after which the healer left.  I was the replacement.  My experience when I’m the replacement healer is that the healing was difficult.  Sometimes it’s the case that the healer just wasn’t up to par, but usually, there’s an issue with the tank or the dps or something.  And that’s what I found.  People were taking too much damage early on and I couldn’t keep up.  In theory, I should be able to heal mostly the tank with the occasional group heal or single target of someone who grabbed aggro.  In this case, everyone was taking damage, a lot of it.  And then, I was taking damage and before I could heal myself or shield myself, I died.  Wipe city.  Someone quit after this, and then we got a new guy and when he asked what went wrong, someone said it was a healer problem.  And I said, well, yeah, the tank didn’t keep the mobs off me.  But I wasn’t angry.  I was just assessing the situation.  So we gave it another try.  Less damage early on, so I was able to keep up.  But then the warlock took a big hit and was down and then everyone started taking lots of damage and again, I couldn’t keep up.  Then I was feared, so couldn’t heal at all, and well, of course, we wiped.  I’ve healed this before and I know it’s not supposed to be like this.  Yes, people take some damage, but people are not supposed to be taking lots and lots of damage.   I quit after the last wipe.  But, despite the appearance that it was the healer (me) who was failing, I think this was, again, a failure to communicate.  I couldn’t see everything that was going on, but I suspect the group wasn’t killing the mobs in the right order.  No one suggested other strategies.  Again, everyone assumed that people knew what to do.  And maybe, I should have spoken up and said, hey, everyone’s taking too much damage; it shouldn’t be that way.

When I think about why I didn’t say anything, it’s probably the same reason why many people don’t say anything.  Even suggesting that the fight isn’t going as it should sounds accusatory and some people, me especially maybe, don’t want to sound like assholes.  But people should speak up.  I should speak up.  I should have said in the first instance, hey, let’s make it clear who’s tanking and let’s talk about the disease thing.  And in the second, I should have said, I’ve healed this before and usually people don’t take this much damage.  What can we do to prevent that?  Sure, someone may quit over that, but in both cases I quit anyway, so I have nothing to lose.  It’s interesting because I think in real life, speaking up about failures or mistakes have consequences that can be harmful to the person who speaks up or others and so, people tend to be reluctant to say anything.  It’s why there are whistleblower laws.  In a game, though, there are no consequences, or it’s an opportunity to see exactly what the consequences are.  I wonder if WoW and games like it offer opportunities for people to test out behavior that’s risky in the real world and whether that translates back to the real world.  We assume, for example, that people who are jerks in WoW are probably jerks in real life.  Their game behavior is similar to real life behavior.  But I wonder if people might be encouraged to do things, some of them good and some not so good, that they would never do in real life.  It’s funny because I’m not particularly afraid to speak up in real life, but in game, I’m reluctant, and I don’t know why.

27. April 2010 · 5 comments · Categories: Uncategorized · Tags: ,
A typical youth soccer game.
Image via Wikipedia

This past weekend, Geeky Girl tried out for an upper level soccer team.  Although I’ve asked every year if she’s wanted to try out, she’s turned it down and I’ve been secretly glad because being on the team is as much work for the parents as it is for the player.  This year, I didn’t ask, but she did.  And so, we let her try out.  Mr. Geeky took her and when he came back, his first comment was, “I don’t like this.  It seems icky.”  And then, yesterday, she tried out for middle school chorus.  She’s starting to put herself up for evaluation for talents other than school work.  I don’t feel as icky about it as Mr. Geeky does.  In my opinion, if you can help your child maintain confidence, even in the face of failing to make a team (or a play or whatever), that’s a good thing.  If our kids want to compete, they’re going to have to get used to the ickiness of being judged.  They’ll have to learn to do their best without thinking too much about other people’s expectations.  Competition can push them in that direction.

Mr. Geeky often complains that some (very few, actually) of the women he ends up with in his classes shy away from competition.  Although his approach is cooperation over competition, he knows that in a field like computer science, you have to have the confidence to push your ideas past a lot of the guys.  So it actually surprised me a little that he was for Geeky Girl competing in a sport she likes.  Okay, some of the parents are hoping their kids will make the USA Women’s team or get a scholarship and therefore push their kids, maybe too hard.  But we don’t have to be those parents.  A little competition is good thing, right?

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Design Mind magazine’s latest issue is dedicated to work-life balance.  I haven’t read all the articles yet, but so far my favorite is Matthew May’s “Elegance and the Art of Less.”  Besides espousing my own theory that working more does not necessarily make one more productive (backed up by research in this article), it appeals to the artsy side of me by suggesting that paintings, novels, etc. are all better because of what those artists left out.  In fact, when I teach writing, the hardest thing to get students to do is to cut things.  I encourage them to cut entire paragraphs.  They shudder at the thought.  But I know it’s often for the best.  In my own writing, I’m a pretty ruthless cutter, even though I could always cut more.

So back to May’s less is more work-life balance theory.  He illustrates this idea with an assignment given by a professor to an overworked and stressed student:

Imagine that you’ve just inherited $20 million free and clear, but you only have 10 years to live. What would you do differently? Specifically, what would you stop doing?

So what would you stop doing? I think I’ve already stopped most things, though I would add some minor volunteer things to the list that have added to my stress rather than being fulfilling.  One thing I’d definitely add: stop feeling guilty!

President Nixon giving a televised address exp...
Image via Wikipedia

I actually hate that every scandal gets -gate attached to it in order to liken it to Watergate.  But the more I’ve been thinking about the financial crisis (or meltdown), and the more that comes to light about what many of the big banks were up to, the more I think that this scandal is more like Watergate than many of the other -gates we’ve seen over the last few years.  The news is awash with stories about Goldman-Sachs improprieties, some of which are being exposed through inter- and intra-office emails.  This Frank Rich column argues that it’s about time the banks were held accountable and that he’s ashamed that our government hasn’t done more.  As during Watergate, it’s the press that’s been exposing many of the problems that were at the root of the banking crisis.  The fallout of Watergate, many believe, is a loss of faith in our government to be honest and straightforward.  It exposed not just that the government used doublespeak to cover up bad things it was doing, but would resort to illegal activities in order to maintain power.  It’s why we often go there when our faith in presidents is shaken.  Maybe, just maybe, we think, they’re another Nixon.  But Watergate didn’t bring down our entire country.  Our democratic processes spun into action and we recovered.  The financial crisis has shown us to be chumps.  Many people trusted the big banks to, at the very least, not completely screw us over.  But we were wrong.  We believed the snake-oil salesmen, and unfortunately, the unveiling of the charade didn’t just bring down a single man and a few of his co-conspirators.  It brought down the whole economy.  It took with it millions of people who lost their homes, lost jobs, lost their entire savings.  Nixon was forced to resign.  Goldman-Sachs just awarded millions in bonuses.  What’s wrong with this picture?

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I almost titled this post “Mondays Suck,” but I decided that might get me off on the wrong foot.  And maybe just by mentioning it, I’ve already jinxed the day.  Sigh.  It’s cold and wet and rainy, which does not help matters much.  This weekend was evenly split between crazy busy and complete sloth.  On Saturday, there were soccer tryouts and training walks and then preparing for guests to come over for dinner.  Sunday, the rain caused the cancellation of our normal back-to-back soccer games, and so collectively, we all decided to stay in our pj’s.  Aside from the kids doing some kitchen cleanup, and my making brunch, we did stay in our pj’s, watching tv and playing on the computer.  I finally put clothes on around 3 in the afternoon.  It was awesome!

And then 6 a.m. this morning came too soon.  There are many things I want/need to do today, and I’m still sorting out exactly what and in what order.  There’s writing, working on some job things, painting, cleaning, laundry, grocery shopping, and kid carpooling.  And I think this is why I feel so anxious this particular Monday.  Especially after such a slothful day, being faced with so many things to do, some of which I can’t not do, just feels overwhelming.  But I’m formulating a plan.  Normally, I write for at least two hours in the morning.  Today, I’m cutting that to one hour.  Then I need to walk the dog, and after that, I’m going to go get more paint.  Then, I will paint, have lunch, and after lunch, do laundry and cleaning.  After that, I will tackle some job-related activities while I wait for Geeky Boy to come home.  Later, I have to pick up Geeky Girl, who is auditioning for chorus and she’s agreed to go to the grocery store with me.  By the time we get home, it will be time for dinner.  This is the life of a stay at home parent, in case you’re wondering.  Always pulled in multiple directions.  Some days are more packed than others, but most days, you have to be prepared for the unexpected.  You never know when a kid will need to be retrieved or a spill needs to be tended to.   And it doesn’t actually suck.  It’s just sometimes not that fun.

I’m headed out shortly to the first of many training walks I plan to go on as I prepare for my 3-day, 60 mile walk for Susan G. Komen. Many of you out there have already supported my efforts, and I am truly grateful.  I know we all have many demands on our time and money, but I still have a ways to go in my fund raising efforts.  If you’re reading this, and you can spare $10 or even $25, I’m asking for your support.  Please click on my logo in the sidebar and contribute whatever you can.  I thank you and the many women who survive thanks to new treatments and research thank you.

Mexico @ Carlos 'n Bryans
Image by Office Glen via Flickr

I hate shopping.  I like having clothes to wear, but I hate the process of finding those clothes.  My hatred for shopping goes back a long way, back when I was a scrawny preteen dying to get out of “kid” clothes.  I was barely 4’11, weighed probably 90 lbs, and nothing ever fit me.  I had been looking forward to shopping in the junior section, but back then, there was no such thing (at least not in my tiny town) as a size 1 or even a 3.  Size 5 was as small as you could go and even that hung on me.  Petite sizes were only for old lady pants with elastic waistbands.  So, inevitably, I’d gather a few things, head into the dressing room and then stare glumly into the mirror when I looked like a stick standing in a pile of crumpled cloth.  My mother didn’t help matters much, though I give her credit for hunting down a store a couple of hours away that carried small sizes and petite clothes in relatively fashionable styles.  I say relatively because had I been attending a posh prep school, those clothes would have been perfect.  Instead, I was in a public middle school where some 75% of the kids were on free or reduced lunch.  The first day I wore the purple linen pants with coordinating cotton shirt imprinted with an old tobacco ad on the back and penny loafers, I nearly got beat up.  “Who you think you are?” A tough girl said to me while I was standing at my locker.  Luckily, I had tough girl friends who intervened.  The next day I went back to my t-shirt, jeans, and nikes and reserved that outfit for dinners out with the grandparents.

And then there were the 80s.  We all looked bad.  I went through a Madonna phase, a punk rock phase, and a Working Girl phase.  I actually wore a business suit and carried a briefcase to school.  There’s an unfortunate spread in the yearbook of me and my best friend demonstrating the styles of the times.  There are stirrup pants involved.  There’s a lot of mousse.

In college, I went with the all-black poet look.  Literally, everything I owned was black.  I could be seen at parties wearing black jeans, a black turtleneck, and black Converse high tops.  I had black skirts, black t-shirts, black shorts, black socks.  Occasionally I wore patterns with black in them rather than all black.  I had a black houndstooth mini-skirt I was rather fond of and which survived into the 90s.  In my junior year, a tragic laundry incident caused me to rethink my wardrobe.  I was washing a load of blacks (some would say colors, but I owned nothing colorful) and when I went to go put them into the dryer, they were gone.  I had to start buying colors.

After college, I resorted to wearing what people gave me because I was broke, and by people, I mean my mother and my soon-to-be mother-in-law.  My mother’s style hails from the south and leans preppy and/or southern belle.  My mother-in-law’s style hailed from elementary school and involved themed sweaters.  When I look at pictures of myself from that era, I shiver.  Bulky sweatshirts with horizontal stripes topping coral pants with a too-high waistline.  The snowman sweater! The mom jeans.  Need I say more.  I was in my 20s, but because most of my clothes purchases were made by middle-aged women, I looked at least 40.  It was not pretty.

Now, I have better sense.  But I no longer have quite the body I did in my 20s, which, despite being a bad time fashion wise was a good time size wise.  I could fit into lots of good clothes.  I just didn’t have the taste to pick out good clothes.  So now shopping feels a lot like it did in my preteens.  I pull things off the rack, take them into the dressing room, and stare glumly into the mirror.  Only, instead of things hanging on me, there are bulges where I don’t want them, or a pair of pants in a size I thought I fit into easily won’t button or zip.  Or I feel like the clothes are just generally too young looking.  Sigh.

But I’m going shopping anyway, because everything I own now is only appropriate for schlepping around the house and/or lying on the beach.  The work clothes I owned have worn out or are too formal for a nice lunch out with a friend.  But I just hate it.  I hate having to look at myself in the mirror and be reminded of the fact that I’m not 20 anymore, and that I didn’t appreciate my 20s when I had the chance.  In other words, shopping often reminds me that I’m aging.  And frankly, aging sucks.

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There it is in all its mostly neat glory.  I even cleaned out the drawers.  What you can’t see in this photo is the filing baskets above the computer on the shelf.  Those really need to be cleaned out.  But the thought of it? Like fingernails down a chalkboard.  Despite having a clean desk, I took some of my work outside today.  The table on my deck is shaded until late in the afternoon, so it makes a nice place to sit and read, work on the computer, whatever.  I didn’t do it for long, however.  I needed a few more degrees to be truly comfortable in my t-shirt.  The dog likes to hang out out there with me and chew on sticks.  Thanks to a baby gate, she can’t escape, but she can still dream of chasing birds and squirrels.  It keeps her from getting too bored.

I swear it feels like Friday.  I’ve pushed myself this week, mostly on the job front, but I did manage to get some writing in today.  I’ve discovered a section that I think needs to be completely rewritten, which will be a long process.  And I did some more work on the job front today, even though it may be in vain.  And now, I’m going to do one more thing (maybe two) and then I’m taking the rest of the afternoon off.