**Please put on your humour goggles, and remember that I love My People fiercely. Precursor done.**
I decided it was time for another edition of Notes, because they're fun and because I haven't done any since January. The following are notes regarding actual things my people have said to me. And by "my people," I mean any given member(s) of my family who shall remain nameless to protect the Meany-Pantses (deliberate or not)--
My People, thank you for asking me questions, and then when I do the intellectually honest thing and reply "I don't know," or "I'm not sure," responding by repeating the question. And then when I suggest we might look it up (depending on the question), responding by repeating the question Louder. And when I say, "Sweetie. I don't know," responding by YELLING THE QUESTION AT ALL-CAPS VOLUME. We all win here, people...
My People, thank you for licking your ice cream at a leisurely pace, taking a bite out of the bottom half of the cone before the top half of the ice cream is gone, and then handing over the entire dripping, goopy mess with the following challenge: "Quick! Eat it before it melts!!" Thank you for sharing, my precious snowflakes...
My People, thank you for informing me that I smell anytime I complete the simple action of coming into the house from out of doors, regardless of activity or time spent outside, and THEN proceeding to insist that the AC be turned off and the windows open to "let the fresh air inside," even though the springtime air in Montgomery is of a sufficient dew point so as to make me sweat at any temperature above 70 degrees F. Thank you, sweat glands, and thank you, my people. I'll just be over here, sweating and smelling...
My People, thank you for telling me to feel free to turn the AC back on (after you leave), as long as I shut all the windows. And then rather than simply telling me which windows are open, making it a fun puzzle by telling me how many windows are open on each floor and sending me on a sweaty, house-wide journey to check them all. Thank you, my people...
My People, thank you for asking for help with your math homework, and then complaining when, instead of saying "You know, I bet that's an impossible question. You probably don't actually have to solve it," I begin going over the problem with you so I can check your understanding. You're probably right that my education and experience as an actual math teacher aren't sufficient here...
My People, thank you for making yourself sick by eating too much junk food, and then protesting when I instead tell you to eat some fruit or cheese. Please don't consider eating an apple instead of gorging on 13 granola bars and then suffering from digestive issues. Digestive issues are the best, my delicate flowers...
My People, thank you for suggesting that we begin to taper the pantry stockpile in anticipation of moving, and then complaining that "there's nothing yummy" to eat when I don't refill it to the previous quantity and selection of snacks. Please refer to the previous Note and have several granola bars. Please also crumble them on the carpet so the ants can have a yummy snack and I can find an ant in my bra as a sign of good luck...
All my love,
Skerrib
Showing posts with label rants. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rants. Show all posts
Apr 21, 2015
Mar 29, 2009
Does Not Play Well With Others...
Lately I'm wondering if I need to wear a sign that says something like "Normally I'm more personable than this, honest." I'm not going around yelling at people or anything (for the most part), I'm just having a hard time engaging very much with those around me.
I think there are, like, 5 or so layers to this whole thing. The most obvious aspect is the impending arrival of Kiddo #2, and to that extent I expect to draw inward as I prepare for it. I'm down to the last few weeks, where I'm thinking "There is not room for the both of us; the belly HAS to go," and my extremities all feel rather noodle-like and sometimes even like they might fall off if I'm not careful. Good for getting babies out. Bad for, say, putting out the trash while trying not to slip on the icy driveway because the Cat Daddy got stuck out on alert an extra night due to the snowstorm, otherwise he'd be glad to do it, but the trash is overflowing and MUST get out and it's too late to ask the neighbor for help so it's this or be overrun by a mountain of trash until a week from now. Or just wanting to walk around for more than 10 minutes at a time. Neither is fun. All to say I'm a little out of it in general, but this will remedy itself over time as my hormones all realign and re-regulate and whatnot.
Then there's the meeting people angle. Where the last time I had a kiddo we were well established and had close friends to make sure I didn't withdraw from society completely, I felt free to be less outgoing and concentrate more on the mental prep for crunchy birthing. But now we are still in the phase of needing to be more outgoing so that we can form such connections with others. I'm uncomfortable meeting new people to begin with, but lately I'm particularly unmotivated about it. I feel like somehow I should be more enthusiastic or something, I dunno.
Here's the thing. Over the years I've tried several ways to describe myself in a nutshell. "Benevolent subversive" is still by far my favorite. I've also used "Ragamuffin" from Brennan Manning's "Ragamuffin Gospel," but that still doesn't quite capture the warped-humor side of things. Lately I've been describing myself as "a little inappropriate sometimes," which while not very specific, is quite true.
I don't necessarily come out and say this immediately upon meeting someone, mind you; I try to be a little more subtle. I might toss out some sort of mildly odd or random comment and see what happens. The most encouraging reply is a smile, laugh, or snarky retort. This is how I knew I was in good company when I joined my moms' group on base (Spouses Helping Spouses, or SHS, it's called).
Then sometimes I get a blank stare, which is unfortunate but I can deal with it. It, um, actually happened quite a bit in grade school, come to think of it. The worst response, though, is when the other person appears frightened. This one I feel badly about because it usually comes from someone who seems very, very, very nice, which means I've just made them nervous, which then makes me nervous, and at that point I'm looking for some sort of sign marking where the inappropriate people should congregate so they can snark on each other and stop scaring people.
This happened at the meeting of another spouses' group on base a couple weeks ago, by the way; I'm not making it up. I've thus far not joined the base spouses' club, but different squadrons within the base will often have a spouses' group to promote unity and help people get to know each other and all that, and I met a couple of really cool ladies through the one I went to in California (neither of whom came to Wyoming, bummer), so I figured it was worth a try here. Alas, tons of nice people, just no kindred spirits yet. And no special section for the inappropriate people, so I was stuck sort of watching the craft time from the side. Of course I could have participated in the craft, I'm aware of that. I didn't though.
I feel really torn about it, because how ungrateful is it to lament meeting nice people? This makes me wonder about my attitude, and if I should be fighting against my cynicism some, or for heaven's sake cutting people some slack before deciding they're too nice for me to be friends with. How ridiculous is that! On the other hand, how long do I keep repeatedly forcing myself into a situation before letting myself off the hook and saying "OK, this one just isn't my thing" and concentrating my energies elsewhere? Where is the line between being kind and courteous, versus feeling like I'm stifling myself to the point of painful pretending?
Oh, and THEN thoughts creep in, like "Gosh how narcissistic, Skerrib. It's not all about you, you know." And other things that send me into what Homer Simpson calls a shame spiral, and it's all just very messy and a bit hard to sort out.
There's a hopeful note in there though. We've been to a few more churches in the area, and to one in particular a few times now. Here we have met a cool couple, and even scored a dinner invite & had a lovely evening chatting it up way past our kids' bedtimes, and went to their small group & had a good time, etc. Things might be looking promising here.
The challenge with this place is that it's a little more churchy, and intergenerational and all. I'm all for respecting the old (OLD) people and their tastes, especially when they are nice about accepting the changing styles, and don't think drums are inherently disrespectful (a personal peeve, go figure). The bummer is that consequently this involves compromise on the musical stylings, and I have a hard time with compromise on the musical stylings (See? The attitude!). The compromise is not so much on the song choice as the amplification methods and levels, meaning that while the music selections are good and have some nice variation, the volume and mix make me feel a little sad.
That and the drummer in the fishbowl, complete with topper, creating a drum chamber. Now this could be helped greatly by rigging up the drum chamber to have large sums of money flying around like in old game shows. That would make being relegated to the fishbowl much more bearable; then again, it would likely be kind of expensive, so probably not.
But the people are cool. They're really nice. And I'm a firm believer in people over things. The question is, will they still like me when they find out I'm a little inappropriate sometimes? (The insecurity!) With the cool couple, I'm almost certain yes. Because when I just came out and explained about it, and they seemed cool with it. But how well do I have to behave around the old people?
So we could try to find something else. Realistically, as far as comfort goes in the way of style, music, and such, I think our best bet is the other church we went to for several months...but then because of the theological differences I would likely leave every week feeling neurotic, and who wants that? Or we could stay, and I could allow myself to be challenged and find out where the fine lines are, and maybe get over myself and relax a little bit. And maybe find some old people who are a little inappropriate sometimes. That would be cool. They are very big into grace and grace alone, so if I'm going to be looking for fine lines, this is a safe place to mess it all up in the process.
And actually I get the feeling the pastor is a little inappropriate sometimes. In a very pastorly way (as opposed to my warped and wonderful compadres at the home church), but still if that's the case...well, we'll have to see what happens...
I think there are, like, 5 or so layers to this whole thing. The most obvious aspect is the impending arrival of Kiddo #2, and to that extent I expect to draw inward as I prepare for it. I'm down to the last few weeks, where I'm thinking "There is not room for the both of us; the belly HAS to go," and my extremities all feel rather noodle-like and sometimes even like they might fall off if I'm not careful. Good for getting babies out. Bad for, say, putting out the trash while trying not to slip on the icy driveway because the Cat Daddy got stuck out on alert an extra night due to the snowstorm, otherwise he'd be glad to do it, but the trash is overflowing and MUST get out and it's too late to ask the neighbor for help so it's this or be overrun by a mountain of trash until a week from now. Or just wanting to walk around for more than 10 minutes at a time. Neither is fun. All to say I'm a little out of it in general, but this will remedy itself over time as my hormones all realign and re-regulate and whatnot.
Then there's the meeting people angle. Where the last time I had a kiddo we were well established and had close friends to make sure I didn't withdraw from society completely, I felt free to be less outgoing and concentrate more on the mental prep for crunchy birthing. But now we are still in the phase of needing to be more outgoing so that we can form such connections with others. I'm uncomfortable meeting new people to begin with, but lately I'm particularly unmotivated about it. I feel like somehow I should be more enthusiastic or something, I dunno.
Here's the thing. Over the years I've tried several ways to describe myself in a nutshell. "Benevolent subversive" is still by far my favorite. I've also used "Ragamuffin" from Brennan Manning's "Ragamuffin Gospel," but that still doesn't quite capture the warped-humor side of things. Lately I've been describing myself as "a little inappropriate sometimes," which while not very specific, is quite true.
I don't necessarily come out and say this immediately upon meeting someone, mind you; I try to be a little more subtle. I might toss out some sort of mildly odd or random comment and see what happens. The most encouraging reply is a smile, laugh, or snarky retort. This is how I knew I was in good company when I joined my moms' group on base (Spouses Helping Spouses, or SHS, it's called).
Then sometimes I get a blank stare, which is unfortunate but I can deal with it. It, um, actually happened quite a bit in grade school, come to think of it. The worst response, though, is when the other person appears frightened. This one I feel badly about because it usually comes from someone who seems very, very, very nice, which means I've just made them nervous, which then makes me nervous, and at that point I'm looking for some sort of sign marking where the inappropriate people should congregate so they can snark on each other and stop scaring people.
This happened at the meeting of another spouses' group on base a couple weeks ago, by the way; I'm not making it up. I've thus far not joined the base spouses' club, but different squadrons within the base will often have a spouses' group to promote unity and help people get to know each other and all that, and I met a couple of really cool ladies through the one I went to in California (neither of whom came to Wyoming, bummer), so I figured it was worth a try here. Alas, tons of nice people, just no kindred spirits yet. And no special section for the inappropriate people, so I was stuck sort of watching the craft time from the side. Of course I could have participated in the craft, I'm aware of that. I didn't though.
I feel really torn about it, because how ungrateful is it to lament meeting nice people? This makes me wonder about my attitude, and if I should be fighting against my cynicism some, or for heaven's sake cutting people some slack before deciding they're too nice for me to be friends with. How ridiculous is that! On the other hand, how long do I keep repeatedly forcing myself into a situation before letting myself off the hook and saying "OK, this one just isn't my thing" and concentrating my energies elsewhere? Where is the line between being kind and courteous, versus feeling like I'm stifling myself to the point of painful pretending?
Oh, and THEN thoughts creep in, like "Gosh how narcissistic, Skerrib. It's not all about you, you know." And other things that send me into what Homer Simpson calls a shame spiral, and it's all just very messy and a bit hard to sort out.
There's a hopeful note in there though. We've been to a few more churches in the area, and to one in particular a few times now. Here we have met a cool couple, and even scored a dinner invite & had a lovely evening chatting it up way past our kids' bedtimes, and went to their small group & had a good time, etc. Things might be looking promising here.
The challenge with this place is that it's a little more churchy, and intergenerational and all. I'm all for respecting the old (OLD) people and their tastes, especially when they are nice about accepting the changing styles, and don't think drums are inherently disrespectful (a personal peeve, go figure). The bummer is that consequently this involves compromise on the musical stylings, and I have a hard time with compromise on the musical stylings (See? The attitude!). The compromise is not so much on the song choice as the amplification methods and levels, meaning that while the music selections are good and have some nice variation, the volume and mix make me feel a little sad.
That and the drummer in the fishbowl, complete with topper, creating a drum chamber. Now this could be helped greatly by rigging up the drum chamber to have large sums of money flying around like in old game shows. That would make being relegated to the fishbowl much more bearable; then again, it would likely be kind of expensive, so probably not.
But the people are cool. They're really nice. And I'm a firm believer in people over things. The question is, will they still like me when they find out I'm a little inappropriate sometimes? (The insecurity!) With the cool couple, I'm almost certain yes. Because when I just came out and explained about it, and they seemed cool with it. But how well do I have to behave around the old people?
So we could try to find something else. Realistically, as far as comfort goes in the way of style, music, and such, I think our best bet is the other church we went to for several months...but then because of the theological differences I would likely leave every week feeling neurotic, and who wants that? Or we could stay, and I could allow myself to be challenged and find out where the fine lines are, and maybe get over myself and relax a little bit. And maybe find some old people who are a little inappropriate sometimes. That would be cool. They are very big into grace and grace alone, so if I'm going to be looking for fine lines, this is a safe place to mess it all up in the process.
And actually I get the feeling the pastor is a little inappropriate sometimes. In a very pastorly way (as opposed to my warped and wonderful compadres at the home church), but still if that's the case...well, we'll have to see what happens...
Mar 24, 2009
So Are the Days of Our Lives...
I was wishing a good friend a happy 30th birthday a week or so ago.
I'm an awesome happy birthday wisher. I was lamenting our increasing age, and how my perceptions are changing. The Cat Daddy and I think all the newscasters in our city are about 19, straight out of high school, and I've seen so many really, really young-looking moms over the past week or so that I was thinking, "Holy smokes, is teen pregnancy really that big of a problem here in Cheyenne?" But no, every one of these moms had a wedding ring on. They were probably early-20's at the youngest. Heck, the way I'm guessing these days they could've been my age and I wouldn't know the difference.
So the "problem" is that I'm getting older. When did this start to happen? The Cat Daddy and I realized we were heading in that direction a year or so ago, when it dawned on us that we were no longer part of the "target demographic" (young, hip 20-somethings) of the type of churches we gravitate toward. Since we still gravitate toward them it gives us hope that we're not total sticks in the mud...but it is still a little unnerving to see ourselves fading toward the "older" crowd.
The change in visual perception, however, has been sudden and startling to me. Seriously, I didn't notice it until we got to Cheyenne. This along with the memories of growing up, and remembering when my parents were the ages we are right now, and thinking "Oh my goodness, we are there. We are them." Am I headed for the PTA, destined to become a "room mother" at the elementary school? Do I need to accumulate some nifty large Tupperware containers (via nifty large Tupperware parties, of course) for toting yearly rounds of classroom cupcakes with tiny sugary shapes sprinkled on top? Do I have to take a hiaitus on burping at the table, and making occasional inappropriate comments? Or, worse, do I have to discourage my kids from doing the same? **shudder**
I would just like to say that there are lots of things I will consent to, for now I understand better the plight of the parent. I do enjoy the baking, so I'll make cupcakes. I will tone down the cussing around children, especially those who are not my own. I will watch Sprout when I'd rather watch something grownup, and eat at McDonalds if for no other reason than the playland. I will continue to burst into Raffi songs at random times.
...and his name was Aikendrum...
I will draw the line, however. The mom-mobile I have is the one I'm sticking with. No minivan, even if you can haul all sorts of equipment & stuff in them. I will consciously fight against becoming a total stick in the mud, and/or saying things like "This is what you call entertainment/music? I can't even understand the words," but I will still keep enjoying my favorite music from back when everyone was on drugs all the time...which was really even before my time but my dad always listened to it so I picked up on his tastes. The 60's & 70's were good years for music, you know...
I'm an awesome happy birthday wisher. I was lamenting our increasing age, and how my perceptions are changing. The Cat Daddy and I think all the newscasters in our city are about 19, straight out of high school, and I've seen so many really, really young-looking moms over the past week or so that I was thinking, "Holy smokes, is teen pregnancy really that big of a problem here in Cheyenne?" But no, every one of these moms had a wedding ring on. They were probably early-20's at the youngest. Heck, the way I'm guessing these days they could've been my age and I wouldn't know the difference.
So the "problem" is that I'm getting older. When did this start to happen? The Cat Daddy and I realized we were heading in that direction a year or so ago, when it dawned on us that we were no longer part of the "target demographic" (young, hip 20-somethings) of the type of churches we gravitate toward. Since we still gravitate toward them it gives us hope that we're not total sticks in the mud...but it is still a little unnerving to see ourselves fading toward the "older" crowd.
The change in visual perception, however, has been sudden and startling to me. Seriously, I didn't notice it until we got to Cheyenne. This along with the memories of growing up, and remembering when my parents were the ages we are right now, and thinking "Oh my goodness, we are there. We are them." Am I headed for the PTA, destined to become a "room mother" at the elementary school? Do I need to accumulate some nifty large Tupperware containers (via nifty large Tupperware parties, of course) for toting yearly rounds of classroom cupcakes with tiny sugary shapes sprinkled on top? Do I have to take a hiaitus on burping at the table, and making occasional inappropriate comments? Or, worse, do I have to discourage my kids from doing the same? **shudder**
I would just like to say that there are lots of things I will consent to, for now I understand better the plight of the parent. I do enjoy the baking, so I'll make cupcakes. I will tone down the cussing around children, especially those who are not my own. I will watch Sprout when I'd rather watch something grownup, and eat at McDonalds if for no other reason than the playland. I will continue to burst into Raffi songs at random times.
...and his name was Aikendrum...
I will draw the line, however. The mom-mobile I have is the one I'm sticking with. No minivan, even if you can haul all sorts of equipment & stuff in them. I will consciously fight against becoming a total stick in the mud, and/or saying things like "This is what you call entertainment/music? I can't even understand the words," but I will still keep enjoying my favorite music from back when everyone was on drugs all the time...which was really even before my time but my dad always listened to it so I picked up on his tastes. The 60's & 70's were good years for music, you know...
Jan 26, 2009
Warm Thoughts...
My thoughts are warm because I am in sunny Phoenix and it's, like, 70 degrees outside. The rest of me is a little tired & grumpy because I am getting into the uncomfortable phase where sleep is sometimes elusive. And furthermore, even when I can sleep well, turning over requires actual thought & planning, and who wants to make an effort at anything having to do with sleep? Yes, I have come full-force into the third trimester.
Some comfort themselves with the idea that the discomfort and sleeplessness of the last bit of pregnancy prepares one for the crazy unpredictability of the early months. I might agree with that--it certainly comes with less of a shock than if one had been sleeping like a rock for 9 months and suddenly had to be up every few hours around the clock. I'm not a stomach sleeper, but just the thought that I could sleep on my stomach if I wanted to makes me feel better. And turn over without having to wake up and adjust my pillow nest. That's a big one.
Pregnancy woes aside, we are quite enjoying the warm sunshine and lack of 50 mph wind gusts. Lotsa family time. Did I mention I have a crazy family? Some time with friends too, which is always fun. Today we're off to capture His Highness in all his photographic splendor. "We" being myself, the Cat Daddy, His Highness of course, and all the grandmas in residence in the state. It will be grandma-tastic...
Some comfort themselves with the idea that the discomfort and sleeplessness of the last bit of pregnancy prepares one for the crazy unpredictability of the early months. I might agree with that--it certainly comes with less of a shock than if one had been sleeping like a rock for 9 months and suddenly had to be up every few hours around the clock. I'm not a stomach sleeper, but just the thought that I could sleep on my stomach if I wanted to makes me feel better. And turn over without having to wake up and adjust my pillow nest. That's a big one.
Pregnancy woes aside, we are quite enjoying the warm sunshine and lack of 50 mph wind gusts. Lotsa family time. Did I mention I have a crazy family? Some time with friends too, which is always fun. Today we're off to capture His Highness in all his photographic splendor. "We" being myself, the Cat Daddy, His Highness of course, and all the grandmas in residence in the state. It will be grandma-tastic...
Dec 28, 2008
Plugging In...
I have issues with church. More specifically with church hunting, but since we've pretty well settled on a church here it's not so much church hunting as it is with church plugging in.
I like a lot of the things about our church here. I like the casual, come-as-you-are vibe. I like the music. It's perhaps a bit on the edgy side even for my tastes, but that tells me that they are not afraid of any particular musical style. I like it that they meet in their own facility now. I loved the idea of meeting in a movie theater, but I didn't like the reality of it very much, for no reason other than it was too different than what I'm accustomed to (Sometimes I think I am starting to resemble a stick in the mud). I like that they are into serving the community with no strings attached, and are supportive of other area churches. Indeed, no sheep-poaching there (to use a favorite expression I got from Mrs T).
But then...I dunno. I can think of about 5 things that bug me--minor theological differences, quirks, that sort of thing. In the context of relationship I don't think any of them would be dealbreakers...but we are not yet in the context of relationship with the church, so it's hard to get an accurate perspective. Here my neurosis really rears its head, in the form of an in-depth analysis of every message. I can always find something to disagree with or get defensive about, but the question is whether or not I would react as strongly if we were a little farther in. It's much easier to take everything with a grain of salt when you already know and trust the one who is preaching.
Compounding this is that the pastor is a fairly strong speaker. At times he has a lot of passion and emphasis. In general this is a good thing, but often when he delivers his strongest emphasis and most dramatic pauses, I cringe a little bit at the point itself. There's always seems to be a point where I go "no, I don't have to agree with that; I don't think that's what God says at all." Now if he's just using good speaking techniques and going for the big effect, I can understand that. On the other hand, if he really feels as strongly as it appears about some of his finer points, then maybe the minor theological differences are more of a problem than they normally would be. I don't know.
Further throwing a wrench into the mix is the increasingly-obvious fact that the pastor is introverted, and not necessarily interested in connecting with individuals. I am an introvert, and I don't particularly care for connecting deeply with everyone and their brother, so again I can totally understand this. The church is structured so that there are places and people with which to connect, so that people can be taken care of while the pastor is freed to do his pastorly things, which in this case seem to be preaching and overseeing the whole shebang. The problem here is that, having exchanged maybe 2 words ever with him, I don't really know where he's coming from as an individual, so I'm not yet sure how much I can trust his leadership. I know he's a good orator--Toastmasters would be pleased. I know that he and his wife are extremely hip and cool when it comes to distressed jeans and other edginess indicators. I know that he is the head of this baby church that has grown to over 500 in its one year of existence, and that he well aware of how uncommon this is, and is highly grateful for the whole thing.
That said I don't really know what makes him tick. What sorts of things has he encountered on his journey to give him his particular bents, and what are his essential points when it comes to talking about God. And I'm not sure I'm in the place to ask those sorts of questions of him personally. In fact, I'm pretty sure I'm not. I would certainly feel defensive if someone came at me, looking more than a little bothered, and asking those sorts of things of me. Granted, I'm not in charge of an entire church, but still...I'm pretty sure I'm not in the proper state of mind to ask those things graciously and fairly, anyway.
Thankfully, the church has venues for such questions, and even has a catchy name for everything they do. Last week we attended the Tour, a little lunch shindig aimed at newcomers wanting to get acquainted with the place, and in two weeks they will hold what they call the Partnership class, where they talk about membership, and folks can ask more hardcore and/or theological questions and such. So that's our next step.
I have a lot of fears about plugging in here. I have a lot of fears about plugging in anywhere. What I would love is to go to a church and get a special feeling or instinct that it is home for the next 4 years, church-wise. I don't know if that exists for everyone, and I'm not sure it's fair to ask of a place before we've taken the time to plug in. Maybe my expectations are skewed in one direction or the other, or maybe I need to eat more iron-rich foods or something. Out of the churches we've visited, it does seem to be the best fit for us as a family, even if it might not be where I'd end up as an individual. But then again, maybe it is exactly where I'd end up; I dunno. What confuses me is that there are so many factors influencing my judgement at present, that I don't really trust my judgement. Hard to take that and make a solid decision.
I think the thing that sits heaviest with me is that, when all is said & done, to me it just feels like "doing church." Looking around during the service it is obviously not this way for a whole bunch of people, so it's highly likely that this is more of an indicator of the things I'm feeling about church lately, rather than the perspective from which this church is ministering.
I haven't seen any red flags, so that's a start. Still, my overall gut-feeling is one of discomfort. I don't see anyone else walking around in apparent bondage or oppression, but somehow I come away feeling neurotic pretty much every time. And I hate feeling neurotic. But again, I know my perspective is skewed, so it's hard to sort out much of anything. Ho-hum.
I think the next few weeks will be telling, what with the membership class and the new series they're starting up. The name of it is something like "21," which is borrowed from black-jack's perfect hand. The video trailer (yes, they do those here) has taunting little phrases like "living each day like the perfect day." I'm suspicious, but we'll see the angle they take...
I like a lot of the things about our church here. I like the casual, come-as-you-are vibe. I like the music. It's perhaps a bit on the edgy side even for my tastes, but that tells me that they are not afraid of any particular musical style. I like it that they meet in their own facility now. I loved the idea of meeting in a movie theater, but I didn't like the reality of it very much, for no reason other than it was too different than what I'm accustomed to (Sometimes I think I am starting to resemble a stick in the mud). I like that they are into serving the community with no strings attached, and are supportive of other area churches. Indeed, no sheep-poaching there (to use a favorite expression I got from Mrs T).
But then...I dunno. I can think of about 5 things that bug me--minor theological differences, quirks, that sort of thing. In the context of relationship I don't think any of them would be dealbreakers...but we are not yet in the context of relationship with the church, so it's hard to get an accurate perspective. Here my neurosis really rears its head, in the form of an in-depth analysis of every message. I can always find something to disagree with or get defensive about, but the question is whether or not I would react as strongly if we were a little farther in. It's much easier to take everything with a grain of salt when you already know and trust the one who is preaching.
Compounding this is that the pastor is a fairly strong speaker. At times he has a lot of passion and emphasis. In general this is a good thing, but often when he delivers his strongest emphasis and most dramatic pauses, I cringe a little bit at the point itself. There's always seems to be a point where I go "no, I don't have to agree with that; I don't think that's what God says at all." Now if he's just using good speaking techniques and going for the big effect, I can understand that. On the other hand, if he really feels as strongly as it appears about some of his finer points, then maybe the minor theological differences are more of a problem than they normally would be. I don't know.
Further throwing a wrench into the mix is the increasingly-obvious fact that the pastor is introverted, and not necessarily interested in connecting with individuals. I am an introvert, and I don't particularly care for connecting deeply with everyone and their brother, so again I can totally understand this. The church is structured so that there are places and people with which to connect, so that people can be taken care of while the pastor is freed to do his pastorly things, which in this case seem to be preaching and overseeing the whole shebang. The problem here is that, having exchanged maybe 2 words ever with him, I don't really know where he's coming from as an individual, so I'm not yet sure how much I can trust his leadership. I know he's a good orator--Toastmasters would be pleased. I know that he and his wife are extremely hip and cool when it comes to distressed jeans and other edginess indicators. I know that he is the head of this baby church that has grown to over 500 in its one year of existence, and that he well aware of how uncommon this is, and is highly grateful for the whole thing.
That said I don't really know what makes him tick. What sorts of things has he encountered on his journey to give him his particular bents, and what are his essential points when it comes to talking about God. And I'm not sure I'm in the place to ask those sorts of questions of him personally. In fact, I'm pretty sure I'm not. I would certainly feel defensive if someone came at me, looking more than a little bothered, and asking those sorts of things of me. Granted, I'm not in charge of an entire church, but still...I'm pretty sure I'm not in the proper state of mind to ask those things graciously and fairly, anyway.
Thankfully, the church has venues for such questions, and even has a catchy name for everything they do. Last week we attended the Tour, a little lunch shindig aimed at newcomers wanting to get acquainted with the place, and in two weeks they will hold what they call the Partnership class, where they talk about membership, and folks can ask more hardcore and/or theological questions and such. So that's our next step.
I have a lot of fears about plugging in here. I have a lot of fears about plugging in anywhere. What I would love is to go to a church and get a special feeling or instinct that it is home for the next 4 years, church-wise. I don't know if that exists for everyone, and I'm not sure it's fair to ask of a place before we've taken the time to plug in. Maybe my expectations are skewed in one direction or the other, or maybe I need to eat more iron-rich foods or something. Out of the churches we've visited, it does seem to be the best fit for us as a family, even if it might not be where I'd end up as an individual. But then again, maybe it is exactly where I'd end up; I dunno. What confuses me is that there are so many factors influencing my judgement at present, that I don't really trust my judgement. Hard to take that and make a solid decision.
I think the thing that sits heaviest with me is that, when all is said & done, to me it just feels like "doing church." Looking around during the service it is obviously not this way for a whole bunch of people, so it's highly likely that this is more of an indicator of the things I'm feeling about church lately, rather than the perspective from which this church is ministering.
I haven't seen any red flags, so that's a start. Still, my overall gut-feeling is one of discomfort. I don't see anyone else walking around in apparent bondage or oppression, but somehow I come away feeling neurotic pretty much every time. And I hate feeling neurotic. But again, I know my perspective is skewed, so it's hard to sort out much of anything. Ho-hum.
I think the next few weeks will be telling, what with the membership class and the new series they're starting up. The name of it is something like "21," which is borrowed from black-jack's perfect hand. The video trailer (yes, they do those here) has taunting little phrases like "living each day like the perfect day." I'm suspicious, but we'll see the angle they take...
Dec 19, 2008
Truly...
This week I’ve got the truth on the brain. I’m all for the truth—I think people should tell it, and embrace it, and love it. I much prefer being around people who aren’t afraid to tell the truth and tell it straight. I often say I would much rather know the hard truth than have to find out for myself. When the Cat Daddy was going through missile training this summer, my good friend whose husband had been a missileer told me stories about their experiences and you know what? Being a missileer is hard. It’s a hard job that’s hard on the family. At times she would be apologetic and say “I hope I’m not scaring you too much. Maybe I shouldn’t tell you so much,” but I said, “Oh no, I would much rather know what to really expect going in.” I meant it then, and I’ve been grateful ever since. It doesn’t keep me from fussing about the hard things, but it’s that much less painful to have known what was coming. I really think it makes it easier to adjust, and adapt, and other such things you learn in “Who Moved My Cheese?”
The problem is that, as much as I value the truth and straight talk, when it comes to telling the hard or unpleasant truth, I have a really hard time just coming out with it. Even with straight talk I do think there’s value in being as sensitive as possible, and since I do not have the natural gift of tact, I often take time to consider my words carefully. Problem is, I can overdo it and go from telling the truth in love to beating around the bush or avoiding the hard parts altogether.
In fact, twice within the past week the Cat Daddy has said to me, on separate occasions, “Skerrib, don’t be afraid to tell the truth.” To which I winced and replied, “I don’t know how to say it,” and he said, “Just say the facts. They are just the facts; they are neutral. People’s responses are up to them.”
See, this is why I love the Cat Daddy. He is so smart!
Sometimes I remember all of this, and can speak up and say hard things when necessary. But not always, and especially during times of major transition. Which would be this entire year. Meh.
This is because I have issues. “What’s that,” you say, “you, Skerrib? You have issues? No!!!” I know, I know, but it’s true. I often underestimate people, and worry that they won’t be able to handle hearing the straight truth. Having encountered this at points along the way, for some reason I assume it’s true of everyone.
Which it’s not, and I know that’s the case…but something about transition makes me go all random. Which means that issues tend to resurface during these times, and have to be dealt with again (and again, and again, and again…). Meh.
I’m tired these days, I think, from the transitions that just won’t quit. I did know this sort of thing was coming. Our last year and a half or so in Mass was a time of rest. Obviously there were changes—His Highness being the biggest one—but for whatever reason it was a calm season in life. I knew it at the time, and I enjoyed it, because I also knew that it would only last for a time. So like I mentioned before, I’m not shocked or caught off-guard, or anything. Just tired.
I do know from experience that my energy will come back. Not to sound pessimistic--because I really am not being pessimistic—but that will probably happen sometime around next summer. In the meantime though, when I get tired, life gets trimmed to the basics. Eat. Sleep. Exercise. Keep the kid and dogs alive. Don’t blow up or burn down the house. And tell the truth, even when it’s hard.
Write that down, kids…
The problem is that, as much as I value the truth and straight talk, when it comes to telling the hard or unpleasant truth, I have a really hard time just coming out with it. Even with straight talk I do think there’s value in being as sensitive as possible, and since I do not have the natural gift of tact, I often take time to consider my words carefully. Problem is, I can overdo it and go from telling the truth in love to beating around the bush or avoiding the hard parts altogether.
In fact, twice within the past week the Cat Daddy has said to me, on separate occasions, “Skerrib, don’t be afraid to tell the truth.” To which I winced and replied, “I don’t know how to say it,” and he said, “Just say the facts. They are just the facts; they are neutral. People’s responses are up to them.”
See, this is why I love the Cat Daddy. He is so smart!
Sometimes I remember all of this, and can speak up and say hard things when necessary. But not always, and especially during times of major transition. Which would be this entire year. Meh.
This is because I have issues. “What’s that,” you say, “you, Skerrib? You have issues? No!!!” I know, I know, but it’s true. I often underestimate people, and worry that they won’t be able to handle hearing the straight truth. Having encountered this at points along the way, for some reason I assume it’s true of everyone.
Which it’s not, and I know that’s the case…but something about transition makes me go all random. Which means that issues tend to resurface during these times, and have to be dealt with again (and again, and again, and again…). Meh.
I’m tired these days, I think, from the transitions that just won’t quit. I did know this sort of thing was coming. Our last year and a half or so in Mass was a time of rest. Obviously there were changes—His Highness being the biggest one—but for whatever reason it was a calm season in life. I knew it at the time, and I enjoyed it, because I also knew that it would only last for a time. So like I mentioned before, I’m not shocked or caught off-guard, or anything. Just tired.
I do know from experience that my energy will come back. Not to sound pessimistic--because I really am not being pessimistic—but that will probably happen sometime around next summer. In the meantime though, when I get tired, life gets trimmed to the basics. Eat. Sleep. Exercise. Keep the kid and dogs alive. Don’t blow up or burn down the house. And tell the truth, even when it’s hard.
Write that down, kids…
Dec 9, 2008
You Really Want to Know??
Today I would like to lament the fact that, while I am quite healthy overall, when I do have to go to the doctor it tends to involve symptoms and/or parts of the body that can be a little awkward to talk about. Now don't anybody freak out, I'm not talking STD's or anything. Just run-of-the-mill maladies that, unfortunately, require the utilization of a paper gown or some variant for a proper examination. Past and present nursing moms and women in general can identify here, I'm sure.
One might think that by this point in life I would have finally ridded myself of all sense of modesty and dignity when it comes to healthcare. Like the strangers you encounter in line at the store, who tell you about their recent bout with diarrhea and how it has affected their liver function and intimacy issues. That's always fun. And while it's true that in the process of pregnancy and birth ladies tend to throw propriety to the wind, I somehow managed to run out and grab mine right back after His Highness was born. I'm a total prude when it comes to these things.
Which is actually kind of interesting, because in my younger days I had a tendency to talk about all sorts of bodily functions and issues in front of anyone and everyone (youth group leaders included)--partly for shock value, and partly out of exasperation at instrusive questions like "why aren't you participating in the swimming today?" They asked, so I told them. Oh yes I did. Mandatory fun, my eye.
Let me throw one caveat in here about talking about girl-things with girlfriends--the vast majority of the time it doesn't bother me. First of all because they are people I know. And second, because we're girls and we're talking about girl-things.
And really the thing that bothers me the most isn't the appointment itself as much as making the appointment, where I'm having to talk to a receptionist, or call center agent, or worst of all, the poor, random senior airman who is filling in for the day and needs me to spell the more clinical terms. I say "I need to make an appointment." They say "What do you need to be seen for?" I say "Such-and-such," and think please oh please don't ask for any more details, because any doctor will already know exactly what I'm talking about. But no, they say "And what symptoms are you having," and the poor senior airman says "and can you spell that please?"
And THEN once I'm in the doctor's office the tech says "It says you're here to be seen for such-and-such. Tell me about your symptoms." I already told the receptionist about my symptoms, but no, the tech has to write them down again. This wouldn't be terrible, except after I give a brief description they don't say anything, so I assume they want more detail, and I end up rambling until I sense that they are thinking please oh please don't give any more details, because the doctor will already know exactly what you're talking about.
It's redundant, that's all I'm saying.
The upside of all of this is that, in exchange for some minor embarrassment, I'm not having to be seen for more painful things like bronchitis or broken bones. Kinda makes the paper gown worth it. Almost...
One might think that by this point in life I would have finally ridded myself of all sense of modesty and dignity when it comes to healthcare. Like the strangers you encounter in line at the store, who tell you about their recent bout with diarrhea and how it has affected their liver function and intimacy issues. That's always fun. And while it's true that in the process of pregnancy and birth ladies tend to throw propriety to the wind, I somehow managed to run out and grab mine right back after His Highness was born. I'm a total prude when it comes to these things.
Which is actually kind of interesting, because in my younger days I had a tendency to talk about all sorts of bodily functions and issues in front of anyone and everyone (youth group leaders included)--partly for shock value, and partly out of exasperation at instrusive questions like "why aren't you participating in the swimming today?" They asked, so I told them. Oh yes I did. Mandatory fun, my eye.
Let me throw one caveat in here about talking about girl-things with girlfriends--the vast majority of the time it doesn't bother me. First of all because they are people I know. And second, because we're girls and we're talking about girl-things.
And really the thing that bothers me the most isn't the appointment itself as much as making the appointment, where I'm having to talk to a receptionist, or call center agent, or worst of all, the poor, random senior airman who is filling in for the day and needs me to spell the more clinical terms. I say "I need to make an appointment." They say "What do you need to be seen for?" I say "Such-and-such," and think please oh please don't ask for any more details, because any doctor will already know exactly what I'm talking about. But no, they say "And what symptoms are you having," and the poor senior airman says "and can you spell that please?"
And THEN once I'm in the doctor's office the tech says "It says you're here to be seen for such-and-such. Tell me about your symptoms." I already told the receptionist about my symptoms, but no, the tech has to write them down again. This wouldn't be terrible, except after I give a brief description they don't say anything, so I assume they want more detail, and I end up rambling until I sense that they are thinking please oh please don't give any more details, because the doctor will already know exactly what you're talking about.
It's redundant, that's all I'm saying.
The upside of all of this is that, in exchange for some minor embarrassment, I'm not having to be seen for more painful things like bronchitis or broken bones. Kinda makes the paper gown worth it. Almost...
Oct 27, 2008
The Great Thing About Obama...
No, I'm not voting for him. But you wondered for a second didn't you?
Growing up, my parents were registered in different political parties, as were my mom's parents. It was never a big deal that I can remember...no heated discussions over holiday dinners or anything. Well, no heated political discussions, anyway. Gravy and green bean casserole are enough to set some of us off; no need to go anywhere near the government.
It wasn't until I was older that I learned how many people make the assumption that Christian = Republican.
I've always been one to challenge that assumption, but frankly over the years, and despite being registered Independent, I've always voted along Republican lines. It's only in this election that I've seen people actually considering both candidates and actually crossing party lines in their votes. It's madness, I tell you. It's refreshing to see something other than the same old boring political discussions, and same old approaches to the same old issues.
What's not refreshing is finding how badly folks can behave when they're not used to having their views challenged, and suddenly their friend goes & votes for the "other guy." No, sadly this is the same ol' same ol' when it comes to people not understanding how to disagree respectfully. And no matter how right you feel, "You're voting for who?!? But I thought you were a Christian" is not very respectful.
But you know what? I'm glad it's being brought up. I'm glad people are having to really explore why they think the way they do, and why they react the way they do, and how they handle disagreements. Where the candidates can sling mud all day long, suddenly things change a little bit when you're talking with a close friend. Who you know is perfectly intelligent, and thinks things through, and also loves Jesus. I think it makes us take a step back & try to understand the other side, rather than quickly dismissing it because it's all a bunch of right/left, liberal/conservative, Republican/Democrat hooey. It might well be, but better to know why we think it's hooey.
So anyway...I have a theory about becoming the president. I think that the president knows things the rest of us don't. I think they are things the rest of us don't want to know; things we are more than happy to live in total ignorance of. Secret things, dangerous things, scary things. I think no matter how experienced and knowledgeable a person is, it doesn't prepare them for the gravity of the office of president because of how much they suddenly become privy to. I think that whoever we elect will step into office, and as he gains a more complete perspective of these things that only he and a select few know about, he will go "Oh." And it will become clear to him why he cannot act a certain way with this issue, or he must do that over there, or he will understand why a decision was made that seemed completely idiotic at the time. Or maybe he'll understand that yes, it was in fact idiotic; who knows.
In that regard I'm not afraid for Obama to win. I'm not voting for him because he favors more government control in most everything, while I prefer less government control in general. While I don't think he'll turn the US into a socialist nation in 4 years, I do think that under him we will pay more taxes and there will be little snippets of socialism popping up. Which could lead to increasing socialistic patterns, which in some ways sounds really good, but in the end I don't think it's the right path for the US.
But like I said, I think anyone's claims are tempered when they get the full view. Plus if you're really a Christian, you probably believe that God is fully aware of what's going on and is in fact sovereign, and knows what needs to happen in this election to further his purposes everywhere. Whatever they may be.
Just do me a favor, and don't go around questioning people's Christianity based on their political views. Maybe ask them why they think the way they do...their answers might surprise you. And if, once the new president takes office, you find stuff happening that you don't like, write to your congresspeople. You can email them these days, even.
Give 'em what for...
Growing up, my parents were registered in different political parties, as were my mom's parents. It was never a big deal that I can remember...no heated discussions over holiday dinners or anything. Well, no heated political discussions, anyway. Gravy and green bean casserole are enough to set some of us off; no need to go anywhere near the government.
It wasn't until I was older that I learned how many people make the assumption that Christian = Republican.
I've always been one to challenge that assumption, but frankly over the years, and despite being registered Independent, I've always voted along Republican lines. It's only in this election that I've seen people actually considering both candidates and actually crossing party lines in their votes. It's madness, I tell you. It's refreshing to see something other than the same old boring political discussions, and same old approaches to the same old issues.
What's not refreshing is finding how badly folks can behave when they're not used to having their views challenged, and suddenly their friend goes & votes for the "other guy." No, sadly this is the same ol' same ol' when it comes to people not understanding how to disagree respectfully. And no matter how right you feel, "You're voting for who?!? But I thought you were a Christian" is not very respectful.
But you know what? I'm glad it's being brought up. I'm glad people are having to really explore why they think the way they do, and why they react the way they do, and how they handle disagreements. Where the candidates can sling mud all day long, suddenly things change a little bit when you're talking with a close friend. Who you know is perfectly intelligent, and thinks things through, and also loves Jesus. I think it makes us take a step back & try to understand the other side, rather than quickly dismissing it because it's all a bunch of right/left, liberal/conservative, Republican/Democrat hooey. It might well be, but better to know why we think it's hooey.
So anyway...I have a theory about becoming the president. I think that the president knows things the rest of us don't. I think they are things the rest of us don't want to know; things we are more than happy to live in total ignorance of. Secret things, dangerous things, scary things. I think no matter how experienced and knowledgeable a person is, it doesn't prepare them for the gravity of the office of president because of how much they suddenly become privy to. I think that whoever we elect will step into office, and as he gains a more complete perspective of these things that only he and a select few know about, he will go "Oh." And it will become clear to him why he cannot act a certain way with this issue, or he must do that over there, or he will understand why a decision was made that seemed completely idiotic at the time. Or maybe he'll understand that yes, it was in fact idiotic; who knows.
In that regard I'm not afraid for Obama to win. I'm not voting for him because he favors more government control in most everything, while I prefer less government control in general. While I don't think he'll turn the US into a socialist nation in 4 years, I do think that under him we will pay more taxes and there will be little snippets of socialism popping up. Which could lead to increasing socialistic patterns, which in some ways sounds really good, but in the end I don't think it's the right path for the US.
But like I said, I think anyone's claims are tempered when they get the full view. Plus if you're really a Christian, you probably believe that God is fully aware of what's going on and is in fact sovereign, and knows what needs to happen in this election to further his purposes everywhere. Whatever they may be.
Just do me a favor, and don't go around questioning people's Christianity based on their political views. Maybe ask them why they think the way they do...their answers might surprise you. And if, once the new president takes office, you find stuff happening that you don't like, write to your congresspeople. You can email them these days, even.
Give 'em what for...
Sep 12, 2008
Feel the Feeling...
I wanted to clarify something from my post a few days ago. I do not equate living in Minot to having tuberculosis. I almost certainly would rather live in Minot than have tuberculosis. I think. It depends on the duration of each, and the success rate of treatment for TB, which I don't know all that much about. But I'm nearly positive I'd take Minot.
My point was the random nature of the statement. Being sent to Minot was a concern at one time, but is no longer up front on my radar, much like the possibility of catching TB. While it would not be a fun thing in my mind, it's not something I generally worry about. So to compare it to the things up front on my radar doesn't quite match up. It's like looking at someone's brown banana and saying "Hey, at least you don't have a bruised apple." Not having the bruised apple, while good, doesn't change the fact that there's still a brown banana to be dealt with, which many will agree is no fun when it comes to eating bananas. The silver lining, of course, is that smushed-up brown bananas make fantastic banana bread. But that's a post for another day.
I think we all can slip into this. When we're trying to help our friends feel better, sometimes we're also trying to make ourselves feel better. It's uncomfortable to see our friends' discomfort. Because discomfort is, by definition, uncomfortable. So to help everyone involved, we try to think of something really, really bad to help put things in perspective. And it is a noble thing to want to help our friends feel better. I just don't think "At least..." is the best way because, as my friend smiller pointed out, it tends to have the effect of minimizing our friends' feelings, sending the subtle (or not) message that they should or shouldn't feel a certain way. "How can you feel that way when when there's all this good stuff over here? What's wrong with you?"
But feelings don't work that way, even for math nerds. I don't get up daily, tally up the good & bad in my life, and see how they compare so that I can decide, logically and rationally, how I should feel that day. At any given moment I could have a myriad of feelings about countless observations and personal circumstances, without them conflicting. Or even several different feelings about a single event. Furthermore, the weight of any situation can vary vastly between two different people due to individual personality, or even within one person depending on mood or relation to other situations and their respective weights.
Which is all to say that when you try to quantify events and feelings to see how you should feel, it all gets very complicated, and honestly (and perhaps ironically?) I think it gives the feelings more power than they deserve. We can drive ourselves crazy trying to avoid negative feelings, but I think in the long run it's more productive to go "hey, I have that feeling," and allow ourselves to remain in the feeling for a bit, even when it hurts (and to throw an arm around our friends when they're in theirs). I think when we allow the bad feeling to come, it doesn't stay as long as it would if we desperately kept trying to ignore it or deny its existence altogether. Feelings like to bang on the door like obnoxious solicitors. They keep coming back until someone answers. Once you let them come in, and sit through their spiel, it's much more convincing when you send them on their way.
Not to get all freaky-deaky, or touchy-feely, or anything...
My point was the random nature of the statement. Being sent to Minot was a concern at one time, but is no longer up front on my radar, much like the possibility of catching TB. While it would not be a fun thing in my mind, it's not something I generally worry about. So to compare it to the things up front on my radar doesn't quite match up. It's like looking at someone's brown banana and saying "Hey, at least you don't have a bruised apple." Not having the bruised apple, while good, doesn't change the fact that there's still a brown banana to be dealt with, which many will agree is no fun when it comes to eating bananas. The silver lining, of course, is that smushed-up brown bananas make fantastic banana bread. But that's a post for another day.
I think we all can slip into this. When we're trying to help our friends feel better, sometimes we're also trying to make ourselves feel better. It's uncomfortable to see our friends' discomfort. Because discomfort is, by definition, uncomfortable. So to help everyone involved, we try to think of something really, really bad to help put things in perspective. And it is a noble thing to want to help our friends feel better. I just don't think "At least..." is the best way because, as my friend smiller pointed out, it tends to have the effect of minimizing our friends' feelings, sending the subtle (or not) message that they should or shouldn't feel a certain way. "How can you feel that way when when there's all this good stuff over here? What's wrong with you?"
But feelings don't work that way, even for math nerds. I don't get up daily, tally up the good & bad in my life, and see how they compare so that I can decide, logically and rationally, how I should feel that day. At any given moment I could have a myriad of feelings about countless observations and personal circumstances, without them conflicting. Or even several different feelings about a single event. Furthermore, the weight of any situation can vary vastly between two different people due to individual personality, or even within one person depending on mood or relation to other situations and their respective weights.
Which is all to say that when you try to quantify events and feelings to see how you should feel, it all gets very complicated, and honestly (and perhaps ironically?) I think it gives the feelings more power than they deserve. We can drive ourselves crazy trying to avoid negative feelings, but I think in the long run it's more productive to go "hey, I have that feeling," and allow ourselves to remain in the feeling for a bit, even when it hurts (and to throw an arm around our friends when they're in theirs). I think when we allow the bad feeling to come, it doesn't stay as long as it would if we desperately kept trying to ignore it or deny its existence altogether. Feelings like to bang on the door like obnoxious solicitors. They keep coming back until someone answers. Once you let them come in, and sit through their spiel, it's much more convincing when you send them on their way.
Not to get all freaky-deaky, or touchy-feely, or anything...
Sep 7, 2008
At Least...
While driving along last week, out of nowhere, the Cat Daddy said, "Look at it this way--at least God still hasn't sent you to Minot."
At first I tried really hard to agree and said "True, and it looks like he probably won't either; wow I'm so thankful," but the more I thought about it the more it bothered me. Wanna know what my true, inner, gut-level response was that followed?
"Cat Daddy, that's like saying 'Look at it this way--at least God hasn't given you tuberculosis yet.'"
Did I mention I'm not in the best of emotional places at the moment?
I dunno. Of course I'm grateful for the things I have. I'm grateful for the good things about where we live, and the fact that I don't have a particularly harsh respiratory illness.
And let me say that the Cat Daddy was entirely well meaning. His statement normally wouldn't make me bat an eye, except for our current timing with having just moved and all.
It just seems to me that I'm in that place where I need to grieve the things we've left, gained, and left this past year, so that I can move on to accepting what's here and even find things to be excited about. My perspective is a bit skewed at the moment, but that does tend to happen when we move. The good thing is that it tends to work itself out over the next few weeks, months, etc. If I try to strongarm myself into seeing things a certain way, I might miss out on what really is. So I prefer to let it ride for the time being.
But hey, at least I don't have tuberculosis...
At first I tried really hard to agree and said "True, and it looks like he probably won't either; wow I'm so thankful," but the more I thought about it the more it bothered me. Wanna know what my true, inner, gut-level response was that followed?
"Cat Daddy, that's like saying 'Look at it this way--at least God hasn't given you tuberculosis yet.'"
Did I mention I'm not in the best of emotional places at the moment?
I dunno. Of course I'm grateful for the things I have. I'm grateful for the good things about where we live, and the fact that I don't have a particularly harsh respiratory illness.
And let me say that the Cat Daddy was entirely well meaning. His statement normally wouldn't make me bat an eye, except for our current timing with having just moved and all.
It just seems to me that I'm in that place where I need to grieve the things we've left, gained, and left this past year, so that I can move on to accepting what's here and even find things to be excited about. My perspective is a bit skewed at the moment, but that does tend to happen when we move. The good thing is that it tends to work itself out over the next few weeks, months, etc. If I try to strongarm myself into seeing things a certain way, I might miss out on what really is. So I prefer to let it ride for the time being.
But hey, at least I don't have tuberculosis...
Sep 3, 2008
Mountain Time...
The Cat Daddy and I were discussing our new time zone, trying to orient ourselves among the lower 50 in the way of the clock. It still takes me a minute when I figure out the time difference between myself and others, especially those in Arizona. This is because I grew up in Arizona, where the time doesn't change. And I prefer it that way.
So, for most of our tenure in CA we were on the same time as AZ, but now we're an hour ahead, until November 2, when we'll be the same time as AZ again and CA will be an hour earlier. And now we are always 2 hours behind our peeps on the East Coast, which is only one less hour difference than before, but somehow is way more bearable. For this reason I like living in the middle.
Our primetime starts at 7pm, just like the Central folks, and the TV show times do not change with the DST schedule. This is because, while people can adapt to changing the time completely, it would be simply inconceivable to adjust the TV schedules semi-annually. Not that there would be a reason to do such a thing; just something I wanted to point out.
Incidentally, this leaves the Central time zone as the only one we have yet to live in. I'm not sure how I feel about this. On one hand it would be nice to round out the Big Four along the way so I could speak from the greatest breadth of experience. Finally, after years of hearing "10:30, 9:30 Central" I would know firsthand the thought of "Oh, that's me," instead of having to wait for "10:30, 9:30 Central & Mountain," which always sounds to me like a reluctant inclusion. On the other hand, this adds a (very) small element of mystery to our lives, which some could (mis)construe as mildly nerve-wracking and/or exciting. What is it like in the Central zone? Are they regular people just like us? Or do they have some sort of knowledge the rest of us don't? Maybe. Or maybe it's just me.
Anyway, the discussion made me think of some friendly (I think) jabs my college roommate and I once exchanged on the topic. I said something snotty like "Yeah, AZ doesn't believe in arbitrarily changing the time," and she retorted "Well, at least we don't change time zones." At the time I didn't have a witty comeback. You could definitely look at it as Arizona switching between Mountain & Pacific times.
Now that I'm more educated on the DST sham/phenomenon (admittedly, from living it), however, I know the truth. Each zone vacillates between its respective standard and daylight time. Arizona, on the other hand, constantly remains on Mountain Standard Time. Everyone else: time & time zone change twice per year. Arizona: neither.
Now it's not like I want to get a time machine and go back to the original conversation and throw that little bit of insight in there--"Feh! Switch time zones? That's preposterous!"
OK maybe I do just a little bit. I'm just saying...
So, for most of our tenure in CA we were on the same time as AZ, but now we're an hour ahead, until November 2, when we'll be the same time as AZ again and CA will be an hour earlier. And now we are always 2 hours behind our peeps on the East Coast, which is only one less hour difference than before, but somehow is way more bearable. For this reason I like living in the middle.
Our primetime starts at 7pm, just like the Central folks, and the TV show times do not change with the DST schedule. This is because, while people can adapt to changing the time completely, it would be simply inconceivable to adjust the TV schedules semi-annually. Not that there would be a reason to do such a thing; just something I wanted to point out.
Incidentally, this leaves the Central time zone as the only one we have yet to live in. I'm not sure how I feel about this. On one hand it would be nice to round out the Big Four along the way so I could speak from the greatest breadth of experience. Finally, after years of hearing "10:30, 9:30 Central" I would know firsthand the thought of "Oh, that's me," instead of having to wait for "10:30, 9:30 Central & Mountain," which always sounds to me like a reluctant inclusion. On the other hand, this adds a (very) small element of mystery to our lives, which some could (mis)construe as mildly nerve-wracking and/or exciting. What is it like in the Central zone? Are they regular people just like us? Or do they have some sort of knowledge the rest of us don't? Maybe. Or maybe it's just me.
Anyway, the discussion made me think of some friendly (I think) jabs my college roommate and I once exchanged on the topic. I said something snotty like "Yeah, AZ doesn't believe in arbitrarily changing the time," and she retorted "Well, at least we don't change time zones." At the time I didn't have a witty comeback. You could definitely look at it as Arizona switching between Mountain & Pacific times.
Now that I'm more educated on the DST sham/phenomenon (admittedly, from living it), however, I know the truth. Each zone vacillates between its respective standard and daylight time. Arizona, on the other hand, constantly remains on Mountain Standard Time. Everyone else: time & time zone change twice per year. Arizona: neither.
Now it's not like I want to get a time machine and go back to the original conversation and throw that little bit of insight in there--"Feh! Switch time zones? That's preposterous!"
OK maybe I do just a little bit. I'm just saying...
Aug 20, 2008
Boston Manifesto II--Driving
Thought I should get this out before we move again. On Friday...
Pretty much anywhere you go, some group of people is going to say "The drivers there are nuts." When I was younger and growing up in Tempe AZ, it was said of California drivers. When we found out we were headed to New England in 2004, it was said of Boston drivers. I have come to believe the location discussed is at least somewhat a coastal issue. Much like closed-in porches are called "Arizona rooms" in the West and "Florida rooms" in the East, when really they are the same thing. And how people retire and move to Florida on a full or part-time basis in the east, and to Arizona in the West. I'm sure some would prefer to go to California (Ooh, oooh! Me! Me!), except for the dang taxes and other money-sucks, which is a tough thing to get used to for anyone, and I imagine moreso if your regular income is more or less stopping. But taxes are another blog post entirely.
And as with the people, it boils down to an issue of culture.
Ohio is laid-back. You can be in the fast lane, furiously passing those in the slower lanes, and still be driving at or slightly under the speed limit. California is just plain fast. With California, as with Phoenix, people just want to get where they're going. As long as your primary goal is to not disrupt the flow of traffic, it's not too terribly difficult to tell when you need to back off & let someone go by, or speed your butt up & go. You do need to be prepared to both signal and start your intended action simultaneously. While in Ohio a turn signal says "See, I plan to go that way, would you mind letting me in please," a turn signal in Phoenix or California is more like "Look, I'm going this way--right now, in fact!" or even "I just went this way, by the way." You make sure you've got the space and you go--boom.
Boston is a different animal entirely. While the freeways are somewhat similar to most big cities I've driven in (complete with the rush hour stop & go, when you plan your travels and/or stay home specifically to avoid the freeways), the in-town driving is very...different than I'm accustomed to. It's a common quip among newbies to the area that the people there are just plain nuts, or as I say, possibly smoking crack. Which is most likely an exaggeration. I hope.
To begin with, the roads are fairly well-marked. Sometimes. Other times you can be driving along watching the names of the side streets, & have no idea what road you are actually on, or that the road you're on has changed names three times in the past mile. And don't even get me started about the lack of a grid system. It's more like an anti-grid system. To tell what direction you're going you'd better keep a compass with you or have a really good sense of the sun's position (and then subtract about 2 hours in the winter), because no road is straight. And THEN the roads meet, merge, and divide in random forks--as opposed to intersections--and these are where you really need to watch for the signs, but being psychic sure helps too. I spent $20 on an atlas of the greater-Boston area and kept it in my car for, like, 2 years because I used it that often.
Thankfully, this convoluted web of roads has a simple explanation: animals. California and many (most?) of the more Western states had the luxury of planning their cities, so they did the most logical thing and set them up on grids. North/south and east/west. And there were some smarty-pantses who got all clever with the numbers, and the Avenue/Street/Drive/Road labels and such to make things even easier. Massachusetts--really, really old. So they built horse & wagon trails based on where the wildlife traveled, and consequently when cars came along, they simply paved over the dirt roads. Which when you think about it isn't all that bad of an idea--the wildlife probably knew to stay away from flood planes and the like, so if you don't have the convenience of modern survey and grading equipment, who better to look to than the deer.
The people are...well-meaning. There are some behaviors which seem really, really odd if you've never been to the area. There were times I'd be driving along and the driver in front of me would decide he really, really needed to stop dead in the middle of traffic to let Random Oncoming Driver turn left in front of him. Or I'd be waiting to turn left, and one guy would stop and flash me (with his headlights, perv), and get all torqued with me for not going, completely oblivious to the fact that those in his neighboring lane really didn't care if I got to turn left that day. Except for that one time I forgot about the neighboring lane and narrowly avoided a collision with said oblivious lane members. Yikes.
Much like with their terse style of interacting, their driving is more tolerable when you understand the reasoning behind it. It goes back to the horse-trails and so-so road markings. In their own way, they are trying to help everyone get where they need to go. So if it means sacrificing the pace in their own lane for a few seconds to let Joe-lefty get out of everyone's way behind him, they'll contribute to the greater good of those in his lane.
I did not comprehend this in the least at first, until I went on a business trip with two native New England co-workers. We were in L.A., where I was basking in the warm temps and sunshine, and had just gassed up on the way back to the airport. Mr. Mike was driving, and we were waiting to turn right, back onto the main road. The driveway was situated just after a stoplight, so in accordance with California culture the traffic kept moving. Completely accustomed to this sort of thing, I mentally thought "it'll be our turn after the light turns red." Meanwhile, Mr. Mike grew increasingly impatient, sarcastically muttering "Of course you can't let me in at all, can you." I replied "Um, they don't do that here." I don't think he appreciated that, but those few moments were incredibly enlightening for me.
Now all that said, I want to state that the exceptions are the same wherever you go. The ones in seriously fast cars will blow by at ridiculous speeds, and the truly obnoxious ones will weave in & out within what seems like fractions of inches and without regard to much of anything around them. Although THE most obnoxious driver I ever encountered was on a two-lane surface highway, on the way to work in Bedford. It was a Saab or Audi (European imports are big there), mainly driving in the oncoming lane, except for when a vehicle came up needing to travel in that lane, when this driver would abruptly cut in wherever (s)he was. Lotsa braking on everyone's part, intense incredulity on my part, and no shortage of Hail Marys on his/her part, I'm sure.
And of course there was a sense of urgency--one tends to have that when one is trying not to run head-on into people...
Pretty much anywhere you go, some group of people is going to say "The drivers there are nuts." When I was younger and growing up in Tempe AZ, it was said of California drivers. When we found out we were headed to New England in 2004, it was said of Boston drivers. I have come to believe the location discussed is at least somewhat a coastal issue. Much like closed-in porches are called "Arizona rooms" in the West and "Florida rooms" in the East, when really they are the same thing. And how people retire and move to Florida on a full or part-time basis in the east, and to Arizona in the West. I'm sure some would prefer to go to California (Ooh, oooh! Me! Me!), except for the dang taxes and other money-sucks, which is a tough thing to get used to for anyone, and I imagine moreso if your regular income is more or less stopping. But taxes are another blog post entirely.
And as with the people, it boils down to an issue of culture.
Ohio is laid-back. You can be in the fast lane, furiously passing those in the slower lanes, and still be driving at or slightly under the speed limit. California is just plain fast. With California, as with Phoenix, people just want to get where they're going. As long as your primary goal is to not disrupt the flow of traffic, it's not too terribly difficult to tell when you need to back off & let someone go by, or speed your butt up & go. You do need to be prepared to both signal and start your intended action simultaneously. While in Ohio a turn signal says "See, I plan to go that way, would you mind letting me in please," a turn signal in Phoenix or California is more like "Look, I'm going this way--right now, in fact!" or even "I just went this way, by the way." You make sure you've got the space and you go--boom.
Boston is a different animal entirely. While the freeways are somewhat similar to most big cities I've driven in (complete with the rush hour stop & go, when you plan your travels and/or stay home specifically to avoid the freeways), the in-town driving is very...different than I'm accustomed to. It's a common quip among newbies to the area that the people there are just plain nuts, or as I say, possibly smoking crack. Which is most likely an exaggeration. I hope.
To begin with, the roads are fairly well-marked. Sometimes. Other times you can be driving along watching the names of the side streets, & have no idea what road you are actually on, or that the road you're on has changed names three times in the past mile. And don't even get me started about the lack of a grid system. It's more like an anti-grid system. To tell what direction you're going you'd better keep a compass with you or have a really good sense of the sun's position (and then subtract about 2 hours in the winter), because no road is straight. And THEN the roads meet, merge, and divide in random forks--as opposed to intersections--and these are where you really need to watch for the signs, but being psychic sure helps too. I spent $20 on an atlas of the greater-Boston area and kept it in my car for, like, 2 years because I used it that often.
Thankfully, this convoluted web of roads has a simple explanation: animals. California and many (most?) of the more Western states had the luxury of planning their cities, so they did the most logical thing and set them up on grids. North/south and east/west. And there were some smarty-pantses who got all clever with the numbers, and the Avenue/Street/Drive/Road labels and such to make things even easier. Massachusetts--really, really old. So they built horse & wagon trails based on where the wildlife traveled, and consequently when cars came along, they simply paved over the dirt roads. Which when you think about it isn't all that bad of an idea--the wildlife probably knew to stay away from flood planes and the like, so if you don't have the convenience of modern survey and grading equipment, who better to look to than the deer.
The people are...well-meaning. There are some behaviors which seem really, really odd if you've never been to the area. There were times I'd be driving along and the driver in front of me would decide he really, really needed to stop dead in the middle of traffic to let Random Oncoming Driver turn left in front of him. Or I'd be waiting to turn left, and one guy would stop and flash me (with his headlights, perv), and get all torqued with me for not going, completely oblivious to the fact that those in his neighboring lane really didn't care if I got to turn left that day. Except for that one time I forgot about the neighboring lane and narrowly avoided a collision with said oblivious lane members. Yikes.
Much like with their terse style of interacting, their driving is more tolerable when you understand the reasoning behind it. It goes back to the horse-trails and so-so road markings. In their own way, they are trying to help everyone get where they need to go. So if it means sacrificing the pace in their own lane for a few seconds to let Joe-lefty get out of everyone's way behind him, they'll contribute to the greater good of those in his lane.
I did not comprehend this in the least at first, until I went on a business trip with two native New England co-workers. We were in L.A., where I was basking in the warm temps and sunshine, and had just gassed up on the way back to the airport. Mr. Mike was driving, and we were waiting to turn right, back onto the main road. The driveway was situated just after a stoplight, so in accordance with California culture the traffic kept moving. Completely accustomed to this sort of thing, I mentally thought "it'll be our turn after the light turns red." Meanwhile, Mr. Mike grew increasingly impatient, sarcastically muttering "Of course you can't let me in at all, can you." I replied "Um, they don't do that here." I don't think he appreciated that, but those few moments were incredibly enlightening for me.
Now all that said, I want to state that the exceptions are the same wherever you go. The ones in seriously fast cars will blow by at ridiculous speeds, and the truly obnoxious ones will weave in & out within what seems like fractions of inches and without regard to much of anything around them. Although THE most obnoxious driver I ever encountered was on a two-lane surface highway, on the way to work in Bedford. It was a Saab or Audi (European imports are big there), mainly driving in the oncoming lane, except for when a vehicle came up needing to travel in that lane, when this driver would abruptly cut in wherever (s)he was. Lotsa braking on everyone's part, intense incredulity on my part, and no shortage of Hail Marys on his/her part, I'm sure.
And of course there was a sense of urgency--one tends to have that when one is trying not to run head-on into people...
Jul 25, 2008
Powered By Solar Orange Juice...
Recently, I've been in on some interesting blog discussions. Doesn't that just ooze credibility and scholarship?
These discussions were totally unrelated to one another, but I must say that both were good for my personal growth. One was a debate of the parenting methods of Michael & Debi Pearl, who I now know have a rather large following, not unlike the Ezzos. Because of this one I got to read up on things like Hermeneutics 101, and Debate 101, and I actually paid money to read the Pearls' child training book (maybe like 3 halfway-decent suggestions but, in my opinion, mostly performance-based drivel and some...um...unconventional theology, let's call it).
The other was a discussion of whether or not Christians should go to the weddings of their gay friends. This one is a tricky question, but to me it really boils down to issues of conscience, whether or not you agree with gay marriage, and how that manifests itself with your beliefs on wedding attendance. I think I'd probably go, but then again if for some reason I felt God was telling me not to, I'd send my love and stay home. If they were good enough friends to invite me to their wedding, I should hope they would understand.
Now obviously I can't condense the facets & aspects & intricacies of these discussions enough to do them justice, so instead I will provide a sweepingly-general nutshell synopsis of each.
Regarding the Pearls' parenting methods: "I disagree with their methods and I'm not comfortable with their theology. I think they're wonderful, and people need to stop persecuting them! Disagreement is not the same as persecution! Yes it is! No it's not! My kids are awesomer than your kids! No mine are awesomer! You guys suck."
Regarding gay weddings: "I think it's OK to go 'cuz you can love someone and still disagree with them. I think it's OK 'cuz there shouldn't be a problem with gay weddings. I think it's not OK--to attend is to condone, and oh by the way all the homosexuals are going to hell. No they're not! Yes they are! No they're not! Yes they are! You guys suck."
Yeah, a little emotional, these two topics. On that front I grew weary quickly. Most people don't know how to debate & discuss. They make sure to get their opinion in there quickly and forcefully, but then when someone presents an different one they get all freaked out and feel personally threatened (um, this includes me, by the way). So things escalate, and tempers get out of control, and it's not pretty. Discussion is so much more productive when we can be a little more objective, and even academic about it...but then can you really separate your emotions completely from such sensitive topics as parenting and marriage? I don't think so. The trick is being free to feel your feelings without trouncing on someone else's.
The horrible part to me was seeing that, among a very diverse sampling of beliefs, the worst-behaved were the Christians, and those who would probably count themselves as the more conservative (ie, best?) Christians, at that. Where are we getting our license to verbally abuse people and call it speaking the truth in love? Seriously, a lot of the "sharing love, ideas, and/or the gospel" was more like "seething shame and judgement, but if you change your mind and start agreeing with me right now I'll be nice and sunny with you." Horrendous.
I'm pretty sure all (five) of you reading this do not go into hate-mode when discussing sensitive things, but for the benefit of the emotionally stunted who might find their way here someday, I would like to share some discussion tips I've picked up along the way:
1) People are allowed to believe whatever they want. Even if they believe that the sun is actually a giant orange and that traffic lights are run by tiny little men inside riding stationary bikes and running on hampster wheels. Doesn't matter if you agree. Doesn't matter if they're wrong. Doesn't matter if you crack open a "Don't Walk" sign and show them the wires and bulbs. If they are intent on trying to juice the sunrise, that is their prerogative.
2) Increasing your volume does not make you more credible or convincing. It just makes you louder, or MORE CAPITALIZED, whichever the case may be.
3) Sharing your personal experiences is fine. Expecting people to validate you by copy-catting your personal experiences is not. "Be a clone of me!!" is just not a healthy argument.
4) Diagnosing the state of people's hearts and minds based solely on blog comments is silly. And obnoxious. And judgmental.
5) Even if you're right, an angry diatribe based on scripture is not the same as speaking the truth in love. Mrs. T once described speaking the truth in love as talking to someone the same way you'd talk to your favorite aunt or grandma (or some other favorite person, if you have extensive family issues). Mrs. T is purple-haired wisdom personified.
6) If someone chooses to do things differently than you, it doesn't necessarily mean they think you're wrong. Or if they do, it doesn't mean you actually are wrong. I mean, maybe you are, but hey if you think you'll get some OJ out of the sun's rays go for it. But I think the little men in the traffic signals already drank it.
7) Including the words "should," "have to," and "must" is a good way to get me to dig in my heels, and then turn on them & run the other way. Probably other people, too. Simply put, you're not the boss of me.
Those are the biggies that come to mind. Feel free to chime in with your own. But you should know that my kid is awesomer than yours, and that you suck.
These discussions were totally unrelated to one another, but I must say that both were good for my personal growth. One was a debate of the parenting methods of Michael & Debi Pearl, who I now know have a rather large following, not unlike the Ezzos. Because of this one I got to read up on things like Hermeneutics 101, and Debate 101, and I actually paid money to read the Pearls' child training book (maybe like 3 halfway-decent suggestions but, in my opinion, mostly performance-based drivel and some...um...unconventional theology, let's call it).
The other was a discussion of whether or not Christians should go to the weddings of their gay friends. This one is a tricky question, but to me it really boils down to issues of conscience, whether or not you agree with gay marriage, and how that manifests itself with your beliefs on wedding attendance. I think I'd probably go, but then again if for some reason I felt God was telling me not to, I'd send my love and stay home. If they were good enough friends to invite me to their wedding, I should hope they would understand.
Now obviously I can't condense the facets & aspects & intricacies of these discussions enough to do them justice, so instead I will provide a sweepingly-general nutshell synopsis of each.
Regarding the Pearls' parenting methods: "I disagree with their methods and I'm not comfortable with their theology. I think they're wonderful, and people need to stop persecuting them! Disagreement is not the same as persecution! Yes it is! No it's not! My kids are awesomer than your kids! No mine are awesomer! You guys suck."
Regarding gay weddings: "I think it's OK to go 'cuz you can love someone and still disagree with them. I think it's OK 'cuz there shouldn't be a problem with gay weddings. I think it's not OK--to attend is to condone, and oh by the way all the homosexuals are going to hell. No they're not! Yes they are! No they're not! Yes they are! You guys suck."
Yeah, a little emotional, these two topics. On that front I grew weary quickly. Most people don't know how to debate & discuss. They make sure to get their opinion in there quickly and forcefully, but then when someone presents an different one they get all freaked out and feel personally threatened (um, this includes me, by the way). So things escalate, and tempers get out of control, and it's not pretty. Discussion is so much more productive when we can be a little more objective, and even academic about it...but then can you really separate your emotions completely from such sensitive topics as parenting and marriage? I don't think so. The trick is being free to feel your feelings without trouncing on someone else's.
The horrible part to me was seeing that, among a very diverse sampling of beliefs, the worst-behaved were the Christians, and those who would probably count themselves as the more conservative (ie, best?) Christians, at that. Where are we getting our license to verbally abuse people and call it speaking the truth in love? Seriously, a lot of the "sharing love, ideas, and/or the gospel" was more like "seething shame and judgement, but if you change your mind and start agreeing with me right now I'll be nice and sunny with you." Horrendous.
I'm pretty sure all (five) of you reading this do not go into hate-mode when discussing sensitive things, but for the benefit of the emotionally stunted who might find their way here someday, I would like to share some discussion tips I've picked up along the way:
1) People are allowed to believe whatever they want. Even if they believe that the sun is actually a giant orange and that traffic lights are run by tiny little men inside riding stationary bikes and running on hampster wheels. Doesn't matter if you agree. Doesn't matter if they're wrong. Doesn't matter if you crack open a "Don't Walk" sign and show them the wires and bulbs. If they are intent on trying to juice the sunrise, that is their prerogative.
2) Increasing your volume does not make you more credible or convincing. It just makes you louder, or MORE CAPITALIZED, whichever the case may be.
3) Sharing your personal experiences is fine. Expecting people to validate you by copy-catting your personal experiences is not. "Be a clone of me!!" is just not a healthy argument.
4) Diagnosing the state of people's hearts and minds based solely on blog comments is silly. And obnoxious. And judgmental.
5) Even if you're right, an angry diatribe based on scripture is not the same as speaking the truth in love. Mrs. T once described speaking the truth in love as talking to someone the same way you'd talk to your favorite aunt or grandma (or some other favorite person, if you have extensive family issues). Mrs. T is purple-haired wisdom personified.
6) If someone chooses to do things differently than you, it doesn't necessarily mean they think you're wrong. Or if they do, it doesn't mean you actually are wrong. I mean, maybe you are, but hey if you think you'll get some OJ out of the sun's rays go for it. But I think the little men in the traffic signals already drank it.
7) Including the words "should," "have to," and "must" is a good way to get me to dig in my heels, and then turn on them & run the other way. Probably other people, too. Simply put, you're not the boss of me.
Those are the biggies that come to mind. Feel free to chime in with your own. But you should know that my kid is awesomer than yours, and that you suck.
May 9, 2008
Um, No, That's Actually Not the Case At All...
Sometimes the Cat Daddy makes assumptions about certain aspects of me that have no basis in any reality whatsoever.
CD: "Hey are you borrowing these Kipper DVD's from the neighbors?"
Me: "Yep. And look, I also borrowed Fraggle Rock."
We didn't have cable growing up, so I thought it would be fun to see what I missed when it originally ran.
CD: "But you hate Fraggle Rock."
Me: "I've never even seen Fraggle Rock."
CD: "Oh."
Somewhere, in the Cat Daddy's imagination, I seek to actively despise anything toward which he feels any sort of affinity, preference, or iota of positive thought. Though to be fair, somewhere in my imagination the same is true of him.
But seriously, if we're watching the DVD and he says something like "See, and you thought Fraggle Rock sucked," I might have to scream...
CD: "Hey are you borrowing these Kipper DVD's from the neighbors?"
Me: "Yep. And look, I also borrowed Fraggle Rock."
We didn't have cable growing up, so I thought it would be fun to see what I missed when it originally ran.
CD: "But you hate Fraggle Rock."
Me: "I've never even seen Fraggle Rock."
CD: "Oh."
Somewhere, in the Cat Daddy's imagination, I seek to actively despise anything toward which he feels any sort of affinity, preference, or iota of positive thought. Though to be fair, somewhere in my imagination the same is true of him.
But seriously, if we're watching the DVD and he says something like "See, and you thought Fraggle Rock sucked," I might have to scream...
Apr 12, 2008
American Idol Shout Out (to the Lord)...
So, the big news in Evangelical circles is that they sang Shout to the Lord on American Idol this past week. The only bit I saw was the YouTube video where they replaced the very first "Jesus" with "Shepherd," so at least part of what I say here is hearsay.
That (hear)said, Chewymom posted a blurb here about it. In the comments she says that apparently they edited out the "Jesus" on Wednesday night and put it back in on Thursday.
I was in on a couple discussions debating the changing of the words, and have since found out that there's all sorts of debate about those performances...the word change, AI's using the song at all, and all sorts of things I wouldn't even think would be debatable about singing a song on a TV show. Some say triumph, others travesty.
My two cents: I thought it was great, but I'm not running around proclaiming personal victory over it or anything. Replacing the "Jesus" with "Shepherd" doesn't bother me because Jesus is often referred to as a (The) Shepherd, and it did nothing to alter the very obvious intent of the song. I guess there's some legal thing about it, but that's between AI and Hillsongs. Everyone dressed in white--perhaps a little cliche...but it still looked cool.
To be fair I'm a little biased because I'm pretty touchy about even the slightest aroma of legalism...so this one struck a nerve. Adding to this was my recent perusal of a site explaining in great detail why pretty much all Christian music was actually satanic (long story). One of the big arguments was that a song isn't really Christian if it doesn't specifically say "Jesus" in it. Right off that strikes me as a massively weak argument, since some of the most enduring hymns and songs don't mention Jesus (Amazing Grace, anyone?).
All that's to say someone in Chewymom's comment thread posted this link, which I think gives some really good "inside" info and sheds some perspective on the whole thing. It helped me to relax, anyway, which is saying something...
That (hear)said, Chewymom posted a blurb here about it. In the comments she says that apparently they edited out the "Jesus" on Wednesday night and put it back in on Thursday.
I was in on a couple discussions debating the changing of the words, and have since found out that there's all sorts of debate about those performances...the word change, AI's using the song at all, and all sorts of things I wouldn't even think would be debatable about singing a song on a TV show. Some say triumph, others travesty.
My two cents: I thought it was great, but I'm not running around proclaiming personal victory over it or anything. Replacing the "Jesus" with "Shepherd" doesn't bother me because Jesus is often referred to as a (The) Shepherd, and it did nothing to alter the very obvious intent of the song. I guess there's some legal thing about it, but that's between AI and Hillsongs. Everyone dressed in white--perhaps a little cliche...but it still looked cool.
To be fair I'm a little biased because I'm pretty touchy about even the slightest aroma of legalism...so this one struck a nerve. Adding to this was my recent perusal of a site explaining in great detail why pretty much all Christian music was actually satanic (long story). One of the big arguments was that a song isn't really Christian if it doesn't specifically say "Jesus" in it. Right off that strikes me as a massively weak argument, since some of the most enduring hymns and songs don't mention Jesus (Amazing Grace, anyone?).
All that's to say someone in Chewymom's comment thread posted this link, which I think gives some really good "inside" info and sheds some perspective on the whole thing. It helped me to relax, anyway, which is saying something...
Apr 11, 2008
Boston Manifesto I--People...
So, I'm a processor. I'm on the introspective side, and I'm neurotic, so I tend to be neurotically introspective. Sometimes I shut myself down for a while and deliberately don't think about anything. But usually I have a relatively harmless train of continual thought running in the background--much like the crawler at the bottom of the news channels--where I observe and evalute my current state. If something gives me pause, I'll shift it to the forefront where I can decide whether or not I need to take action. Usually it's just a matter of forming contingency plans in the event that we're invaded by flies and need to evacuate to higher ground...or something.
Of course all this introspection ramps up around moving time, as I more or less close one chapter and open the next. Comparing expectations with reality and so forth. This is good for my psyche. It helps me to structure my own corner of the world, and have a little closure and all that. And as it turns out, it has also proven very practical for getting acquainted with new people, since I'm then prepared to discuss driving, and the weather, and all those mundane topics that come up when folks are getting acquainted.
For example, Ohio can be best summed up by the words "laid-back" and "friendly." It's more or less in the Midwest, so you've got that unassuming nature and down home sensibility. People talk slower, move slower, and in general aren't in much of a rush. The speed limit on the freeways in town was 65--we would drive 65 exactly, and would be in the fast lane passing folks going 60 or even 55. Some of the time it was old people, but just as often it wasn't. Coming from fast-paced Phoenix, this was an adjustment. I was bothered by it at first, mostly because I was bothered by pretty much everything during the Cat Daddy's first 2 years in the AF, but over time I calmed down...and slowed down...and started to breathe a bit. Even the Cat Daddy calmed down some, which some would say is remarkable. And our good friend Mr. Bee, who never calms down if he can help it, did. Living amid that laid-back culture, one couldn't help acquiescing at least a little bit. Lovely place.
We knew that moving to Boston would likely involve some ramping back up. It is big, and crowded, and generally thought of as unfriendly or even harsh. We (I?) were worried that we wouldn't find a church, since churches are fewer in that area. I wondered if I would have to start wearing black all the time, and we both wondered how long it would take before we didn't have to concentrate so hard to decipher the accent--or if we'd end up taking on a little bit of the accent ourselves. So we geared up.
Then we moved, I found a job, we met people, found one church, then another, picked apples, blah blah blah. And here is what I've determined:...(get ready)...it's an issue of culture.
People are people pretty much wherever you go. Most people are fairly willing to get along. More than a few are nervous and/or insecure-types. There is always the compulsory handful of jerks. The key to understanding Boston (and probably most of New England), however, is understanding that everyone has stuff to get done, and people generally want to let people do the stuff they have to do. So where in Ohio it was common to linger just a tad at the checkout and exchange pleasantries with the cashier, in Boston it was an unspoken "here let me get you through the line and out of here so you can move on to the next thing." A quick, mumbly "thanks" or "have a good one," while seen as terse in the Midwest, was an overture of gratitude in Concord.
I think at least part of the reason for this is population density. Ohio--lots of wide open spaces. Coming into contact with another human being is generally a welcome occasion. Relationship is valued above task because there will always be work to do, but hey there's another person! Let's talk while we can. Boston--nearly zero wide open spaces. One might get a little claustrophobic even, with all the people, and buildings, and construction, and stuff going on. So maybe task isn't exactly valued above relationship (or maybe it is), but there are people everywhere, so please, can you just give me a second to get this done?
One telling experience to me was a conversation I had with Pastor & Mrs T. Mrs. T is a lifelong New Englander (originally from the South Shore, I believe), while Pastor T was brought up more or less in Iowa (and Ukraine, but that's another story). To Pastor T, sharing friendly conversation with random strangers is as normal as brushing one's teeth. Not so with Mrs T...my favorite response from her on the topic went something like "No way! I would wonder what they want from me!" Friendly conversation came after getting to know someone a little bit. Until then, respect a person enough not to detain them unless they wish otherwise.
Not that Mrs. T is some sort of standoffish rock, or anything. She's very hospitable, in fact. And extremely cool, which I've mentioned in a previous post.
The other most telling experience came on the way home from work one day. As I was hitting the turn-off to Rt 62, there was a car pulled as far to the left as possible, trying not to block the turn lane, its driver leaning against the median. This particular intersection is usually pretty busy--it's a long wait for the left turn arrow, so one doesn't dally. However as the traffic inched forward, I saw every, single car in front of me pause in front of the stranded motorist, presumably asking if she needed help, before she nodded and waved them on. But just to make sure, as I passed I rolled down my window and asked, "Do you have help on the way?" and she responded, "I do, thanks," to which I said a quick "Have a good one," and moved on before those behind me commenced with the barrage of honking (a story, perhaps, for the "Driving" manifesto). It made me feel good, knowing that plenty of people were willing to help the lady. Maybe their sole motivation was to get the left turn lane cleared, but still...
All that said, there are plenty of jerks. In a big city it's a statistical reality. And then there are the loud Italians, the stubborn Irish, obnoxious Bostonians and other colorful stereotypes. Sort of like the stereotypical, obnoxious Texans, or Southerners, or Europeans, or Canadians...
But seriously, all told I think people in New England are friendly enough. Yes, even the Canadians. It helps, however, to know where they are coming from. Not necessarily agree or even hang out with them on a regular basis...but to understand the cultural nuances that make them tick. Bostonians, in my opinion, aren't "unfriendly" so much as "trying to stay out of the way."
Write that down, kids...
UPDATE: check out my sequel, the driving.
Of course all this introspection ramps up around moving time, as I more or less close one chapter and open the next. Comparing expectations with reality and so forth. This is good for my psyche. It helps me to structure my own corner of the world, and have a little closure and all that. And as it turns out, it has also proven very practical for getting acquainted with new people, since I'm then prepared to discuss driving, and the weather, and all those mundane topics that come up when folks are getting acquainted.
For example, Ohio can be best summed up by the words "laid-back" and "friendly." It's more or less in the Midwest, so you've got that unassuming nature and down home sensibility. People talk slower, move slower, and in general aren't in much of a rush. The speed limit on the freeways in town was 65--we would drive 65 exactly, and would be in the fast lane passing folks going 60 or even 55. Some of the time it was old people, but just as often it wasn't. Coming from fast-paced Phoenix, this was an adjustment. I was bothered by it at first, mostly because I was bothered by pretty much everything during the Cat Daddy's first 2 years in the AF, but over time I calmed down...and slowed down...and started to breathe a bit. Even the Cat Daddy calmed down some, which some would say is remarkable. And our good friend Mr. Bee, who never calms down if he can help it, did. Living amid that laid-back culture, one couldn't help acquiescing at least a little bit. Lovely place.
We knew that moving to Boston would likely involve some ramping back up. It is big, and crowded, and generally thought of as unfriendly or even harsh. We (I?) were worried that we wouldn't find a church, since churches are fewer in that area. I wondered if I would have to start wearing black all the time, and we both wondered how long it would take before we didn't have to concentrate so hard to decipher the accent--or if we'd end up taking on a little bit of the accent ourselves. So we geared up.
Then we moved, I found a job, we met people, found one church, then another, picked apples, blah blah blah. And here is what I've determined:...(get ready)...it's an issue of culture.
People are people pretty much wherever you go. Most people are fairly willing to get along. More than a few are nervous and/or insecure-types. There is always the compulsory handful of jerks. The key to understanding Boston (and probably most of New England), however, is understanding that everyone has stuff to get done, and people generally want to let people do the stuff they have to do. So where in Ohio it was common to linger just a tad at the checkout and exchange pleasantries with the cashier, in Boston it was an unspoken "here let me get you through the line and out of here so you can move on to the next thing." A quick, mumbly "thanks" or "have a good one," while seen as terse in the Midwest, was an overture of gratitude in Concord.
I think at least part of the reason for this is population density. Ohio--lots of wide open spaces. Coming into contact with another human being is generally a welcome occasion. Relationship is valued above task because there will always be work to do, but hey there's another person! Let's talk while we can. Boston--nearly zero wide open spaces. One might get a little claustrophobic even, with all the people, and buildings, and construction, and stuff going on. So maybe task isn't exactly valued above relationship (or maybe it is), but there are people everywhere, so please, can you just give me a second to get this done?
One telling experience to me was a conversation I had with Pastor & Mrs T. Mrs. T is a lifelong New Englander (originally from the South Shore, I believe), while Pastor T was brought up more or less in Iowa (and Ukraine, but that's another story). To Pastor T, sharing friendly conversation with random strangers is as normal as brushing one's teeth. Not so with Mrs T...my favorite response from her on the topic went something like "No way! I would wonder what they want from me!" Friendly conversation came after getting to know someone a little bit. Until then, respect a person enough not to detain them unless they wish otherwise.
Not that Mrs. T is some sort of standoffish rock, or anything. She's very hospitable, in fact. And extremely cool, which I've mentioned in a previous post.
The other most telling experience came on the way home from work one day. As I was hitting the turn-off to Rt 62, there was a car pulled as far to the left as possible, trying not to block the turn lane, its driver leaning against the median. This particular intersection is usually pretty busy--it's a long wait for the left turn arrow, so one doesn't dally. However as the traffic inched forward, I saw every, single car in front of me pause in front of the stranded motorist, presumably asking if she needed help, before she nodded and waved them on. But just to make sure, as I passed I rolled down my window and asked, "Do you have help on the way?" and she responded, "I do, thanks," to which I said a quick "Have a good one," and moved on before those behind me commenced with the barrage of honking (a story, perhaps, for the "Driving" manifesto). It made me feel good, knowing that plenty of people were willing to help the lady. Maybe their sole motivation was to get the left turn lane cleared, but still...
All that said, there are plenty of jerks. In a big city it's a statistical reality. And then there are the loud Italians, the stubborn Irish, obnoxious Bostonians and other colorful stereotypes. Sort of like the stereotypical, obnoxious Texans, or Southerners, or Europeans, or Canadians...
But seriously, all told I think people in New England are friendly enough. Yes, even the Canadians. It helps, however, to know where they are coming from. Not necessarily agree or even hang out with them on a regular basis...but to understand the cultural nuances that make them tick. Bostonians, in my opinion, aren't "unfriendly" so much as "trying to stay out of the way."
Write that down, kids...
UPDATE: check out my sequel, the driving.
Mar 18, 2008
See? SEE??
From The Wall Street Journal (via A Singer, A Song)--
Daylight Saving Wastes Energy, Study Says
For decades, conventional wisdom has held that daylight-saving time, which begins March 9, reduces energy use. But a unique situation in Indiana provides evidence challenging that view: Springing forward may actually waste energy.
Up until two years ago, only 15 of Indiana's 92 counties set their clocks an hour ahead in the spring and an hour back in the fall. The rest stayed on standard time all year, in part because farmers resisted the prospect of having to work an extra hour in the morning dark. But many residents came to hate falling in and out of sync with businesses and residents in neighboring states and prevailed upon the Indiana Legislature to put the entire state on daylight-saving time beginning in the spring of 2006.
Indiana's change of heart gave University of California-Santa Barbara economics professor Matthew Kotchen and Ph.D. student Laura Grant a unique way to see how the time shift affects energy use. Using more than seven million monthly meter readings from Duke Energy Corp., covering nearly all the households in southern Indiana for three years, they were able to compare energy consumption before and after counties began observing daylight-saving time. Readings from counties that had already adopted daylight-saving time provided a control group that helped them to adjust for changes in weather from one year to the next.
Their finding: Having the entire state switch to daylight-saving time each year, rather than stay on standard time, costs Indiana households an additional $8.6 million in electricity bills. They conclude that the reduced cost of lighting in afternoons during daylight-saving time is more than offset by the higher air-conditioning costs on hot afternoons and increased heating costs on cool
mornings."I've never had a paper with such a clear and unambiguous finding as this," says Mr. Kotchen, who presented the paper at a National Bureau of Economic Research conference this month. A 2007 study by economists Hendrik Wolff and Ryan Kellogg of the temporary extension of daylight-saving in two Australian territories for the 2000 Summer Olympics also suggested the clock change increases energy use.
That isn't what Benjamin Franklin would have expected. In 1784, he observed what an "immense sum! that the city of Paris might save every year, by the economy of using sunshine instead of candles." (Mr. Franklin didn't propose setting clocks forward, instead he satirically suggested levying a tax on window shutters, ringing church bells at sunrise and, if that didn't work, firing cannons down the street in order to rouse Parisians out of their beds earlier.)
During the first and second world wars, the U.S. temporarily enacted daylight-saving time as an energy-saving measure. Over time, most states began changing their clocks, and in response to the 1973 oil shock, the country extended daylight-saving time in 1974 and 1975. Analyzing that time shift, a 1975 report by the U.S. Department of Transportation concluded that the change reduced electricity demand by 1% in March and April. But in a 1976 report to Congress evaluating that analysis, the National Bureau of Standards concluded that there were no significant energy savings.
Still, the Transportation Department study stuck. Speaking before the House of Representatives in 2002, Indiana Rep. Julia Carson said that under daylight-saving time, Indiana families would save "over $7 million annually in electricity rates alone."
In 2005, Reps. Edward J. Markey of Massachusetts and Fred Upton of Michigan drafted legislation that would extend daylight-saving time nationwide. Congress approved the amendment, which called for clocks to be sprung forward three weeks earlier in the spring and one week later in the fall. The change went into effect last year.
The energy-savings numbers often cited by lawmakers and others come from research conducted in the 1970s. Yet a key difference between now and the '70s -- or, for that matter, Ben Franklin's time -- is the prevalence of air conditioning.
"In an inland state like Indiana, it gets hot in the summer," says Steve Gustafsen, a lawyer in New Albany, Ind., who filed a suit in 2000 in an effort to get his county to abandon daylight-saving time. "Daylight saving means running the air conditioner more."
That was borne out by the study by Mr. Kotchen and Ms. Grant. Their research showed that while an extra hour of daylight in the evenings may mean less electricity is spent on lights, it also means that houses are warmer in the summer when people come home from work. Conversely, during daylight-saving time's cooler months, people may crank up the thermostats more in the morning.
Still, the case on daylight-saving time isn't closed.
"My read on this study is that it's one data point that gives us something to think about," says Richard Stevie, an economist with Duke Energy, of Mr. Kotchen and Ms. Grant's research. "I think
that additional research really needs to be done." And UCLA economist Matthew Kahn points out that even if the evidence on Indiana is airtight, the effect of daylight-saving time on other states might be different -- a point that Mr. Markey makes as well.
"One study of the situation in Indiana cannot accurately asses the impact of [daylight-saving time] changes across the nation, especially when it does not include more northern, colder regions," the congressman notes.There may also be social benefits to daylight-saving time that weren't covered in the research. When the extension of daylight-saving time was proposed by Mr. Markey, he cited studies that noted "less crime, fewer traffic fatalities, more recreation time and increased economic activity" with the extra sunlight in the evening.
In Indiana, the debate goes on. "The simpler the issue, the more people have opinions about it," says Indiana State Rep. Scott Reske, who voted against the switch to daylight-saving time. In the aftermath of the time shift, "a lot of people who hated it now love it, and a lot of people who loved it now hate it," he says. A separate debate over whether the state should be on Central or Eastern Time rages on.
Feb 16, 2008
Quite Possibly the Dumbest Quiz Ever...
You Are 20% Girly |
 Um... you're a guy, right? If not, you're the most boyish girl in the world. And for you, that's probably the ultimate compliment. |
Oh puh-leez. Yeah, go tell anyone who doesn't fit the stereotypical, western-world, materialistic view of "girly-girl" that she's the most boyish girl in the world. Sorry tribal African women--you're all the most boyish girl in the world. Whatever.
Feb 12, 2008
Tis the Season...
For all my friends, real or imaginary, who likely live in AZ and sometimes lament the lack of seasons...
The high (HIGH) temperature yesterday was 24 degrees. Fahrenheit.
The high temperature today was again in the 20s, I believe. The windchill was in the teens, at best.
We're in the middle of a snowstorm. We are scheduled to accumulate 2-4 inches of snow overnight, turning into rain for most of tomorrow, and a high of nearly 40. Just cold enough to make the rain really miserable, and just warm enough to make everything melty & slushy before refreezing overnight--yuck!
February is the worst part about having seasons...
The high (HIGH) temperature yesterday was 24 degrees. Fahrenheit.
The high temperature today was again in the 20s, I believe. The windchill was in the teens, at best.
We're in the middle of a snowstorm. We are scheduled to accumulate 2-4 inches of snow overnight, turning into rain for most of tomorrow, and a high of nearly 40. Just cold enough to make the rain really miserable, and just warm enough to make everything melty & slushy before refreezing overnight--yuck!
February is the worst part about having seasons...
Jan 31, 2008
Awwww, Freak Out...
OK, so I'm no good at not panicking. I thought I'd made some progress through the years. And I guess I have when I look at the things I used to panic about that I don't anymore...but the capacity is still there. And the extent of my panic tends to be inversely proportional to the degree of control I have of the given situation. Which actually doesn't seem all that remarkable to me...of course I tend to panic less when there's something I can DO about it. But today--today was a day of panic and banging my head against a wall.
It began several weeks ago, when I was temporarily farmed out to another project at work. It involved true technical, analytical, nerd work, which I don't get to do all that often, but is both fun and unnerving when I get the chance. Fun once the problem is solved; unnerving during the process leading up to the solution, which is like 80% of the time.
So in the process my turn came up for a replacement computer and I was really excited because I thought "Hey, a new computer!" and I thought a newer, faster machine would help the nerd work go a bit faster. So I got my new computer and was all excited to fire it up, but then I had a major software issue. The software wouldn't work. So I sent my new computer to be worked on. Then the problem didn't get better after the first couple tries, so I started to panic about the growing time crunch on my nerd work...amazingly, people are actually counting on my results, so I want to do it well and on time.
So I had a brilliant idea--while my new machine was being worked on, I would use my OLD machine to keep up with the work. Brilliant! But when I went to fire up my old machine I couldn't connect to my company's network. And therefore couldn't do the work. My panic grew ever so slightly, but I asked some folks for their thoughts and decided to call in some tech support. My company's tech support is good--they've always taken care of me.
Until I called and the automated system told me that they were in a STAFF MEETING. All of them. In the middle of the day. While I had no connectivity and my panic levels were reaching epic proportions. The nerve! I was seriously freaked out...not quite afraid of getting fired, but definitely nervous about what my team and my supervisor would say. I thought & thought and racked my brain, and I really was doing everything I possibly could, so I had to wait it out and occupy myself with other things for 3 hours (3 HOURS) until the help desk was back online. It was torture. So finally I got hold of them, and it took all of 5 minutes to fix the problem and get myself back in working order. Still frustrating to know that my new machine was stuck in a lab waiting for some TLC and probably some reinstallations...but I'll take what I can get with the old one. At least it works now.
Then my adrenaline levels started to recede, so I felt better...then I got home, took a jog with His Highness, and ate some chocolate--and I felt much better. Now if I can just get the Cat Daddy to watch something other than the political debates, just for tonight...wait, wait...yes, I've been able to tune them out completely. All I hear is "blah blah blah"--aaaaahhhhhhh...
It began several weeks ago, when I was temporarily farmed out to another project at work. It involved true technical, analytical, nerd work, which I don't get to do all that often, but is both fun and unnerving when I get the chance. Fun once the problem is solved; unnerving during the process leading up to the solution, which is like 80% of the time.
So in the process my turn came up for a replacement computer and I was really excited because I thought "Hey, a new computer!" and I thought a newer, faster machine would help the nerd work go a bit faster. So I got my new computer and was all excited to fire it up, but then I had a major software issue. The software wouldn't work. So I sent my new computer to be worked on. Then the problem didn't get better after the first couple tries, so I started to panic about the growing time crunch on my nerd work...amazingly, people are actually counting on my results, so I want to do it well and on time.
So I had a brilliant idea--while my new machine was being worked on, I would use my OLD machine to keep up with the work. Brilliant! But when I went to fire up my old machine I couldn't connect to my company's network. And therefore couldn't do the work. My panic grew ever so slightly, but I asked some folks for their thoughts and decided to call in some tech support. My company's tech support is good--they've always taken care of me.
Until I called and the automated system told me that they were in a STAFF MEETING. All of them. In the middle of the day. While I had no connectivity and my panic levels were reaching epic proportions. The nerve! I was seriously freaked out...not quite afraid of getting fired, but definitely nervous about what my team and my supervisor would say. I thought & thought and racked my brain, and I really was doing everything I possibly could, so I had to wait it out and occupy myself with other things for 3 hours (3 HOURS) until the help desk was back online. It was torture. So finally I got hold of them, and it took all of 5 minutes to fix the problem and get myself back in working order. Still frustrating to know that my new machine was stuck in a lab waiting for some TLC and probably some reinstallations...but I'll take what I can get with the old one. At least it works now.
Then my adrenaline levels started to recede, so I felt better...then I got home, took a jog with His Highness, and ate some chocolate--and I felt much better. Now if I can just get the Cat Daddy to watch something other than the political debates, just for tonight...wait, wait...yes, I've been able to tune them out completely. All I hear is "blah blah blah"--aaaaahhhhhhh...
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