Last year for my daughter's 6th birthday, we paid $300 to rent out a swim facility for 2 hours for her and her friends. That included pizza; we brought in a cake and ice cream. We invited the whole class, but only about 5 classmates showed up. Sure the kids had fun, but the experience was rushed and cost an awful lot of money for about an hour and a half of swim time. Based on over-the-top birthday parties we'd experienced when she was in preschool, I thought more kids would show. Boy was I wrong. Apparently the days of the entire class attending a birthday party were behind us.
This year, I resolved that we weren't going to have a party like that again. At the last minute, we decided to have a party at home, the old fashioned way. My daughter kept insisting that she wanted a "puppy cake", so I built a theme around that. We invited her girl scout troop, and about 15 kids from her class. All told, seven kids showed up, a decent amount. We converted the garage into the party space, decorated with a party pack I got on Amazon. For snacks, I got frozen food that was easily heated (corn dogs, mini-pizzas), ordered a cake from a local grocery store, and got drinks and chips and put them in large dog bowls I got from Dollar Tree. The only food item I labored on were the cookies--paw prints and dog bones to fit with her 'puppy' theme.
For games, we did Pin the Tail on the Puppy--my husband drew a giant pug and cut out curly tails for the pinning--and we had a blue dog pinata. For play activities, we already had a trampoline and an electric jeep. The girls made their own fun, trashing my daughter's room trying on play clothes, and then ran from trampoline to car and back again.
My daughter had a great time. It was a novelty just having friends over to her house, and playing with all of her toys. They had a blast jumping on the trampoline together. The adults at the party got a kick out of watching the blindfolded kids try to smash the pinata.
Granted, we had to put in a lot of good old fashioned effort in order to get everything ready for this party. But my daughter helped, and we ultimately had fun doing it, and had a huge feeling of accomplishment (and a vodka tonic for me) when it was done.
I don't know why people have fallen away from having birthday parties at home. Maybe because it's a sign of personal wealth if you invite people to an elaborate event party held elsewhere. Maybe people have those kinds of parties to keep up with others. Or maybe people just don't have the time or energy to put on a party anymore. I'm not sure of the reason. I'm not saying an at-home party is sustainable every year; I can see a point where my daughter will have a set of friends that she will want to invite, and at that point, doing an excursion party might make more sense. But in this brief period before exclusive friendships form, an at-home party is a good way to invite just a few kids and get to meet some of their parents in the process.
Also interesting we are at the age now where parents can leave their kids at the party. Almost every parent left their child for a couple of hours, even though some were hesitant to do so at first.
Next year we'll attempt a sleep over party...this year was too soon!
Sunday, December 2, 2018
Monday, April 9, 2018
The demise of the Gross-ery Store, or how we've come to hate shopping
I saw a commercial the other day that showed people shopping for food and the narrator saying, "people are at the GROSS-ery story right now." It was an ad for one of the ever-popular home food services out there right now--don't recall which one. The ad insinuated that people who still grocery shop are incipient fools, because all the cool people get food delivered to their home. Never mind that those new online food services operate on modern sweat shop labor, with employees working at such a furious pace that they occasionally break out in fights.
Home meal delivery is a new signifier of wealth in today's economy, another example of the alleged triumph of time over money. Shopping for one's own food or cooking that food are now considered undesirable wastes of time by a growing segment of the population. It is indeed now a sign of smartness and, one could argue, ostentation, to order meals delivered to your door instead of the quaint notion of shopping and putting a meal together oneself. Or so the marketing folks behind these services would have you believe. No one has the time to meal plan, these services seem to say, how nice to have complete meal ingredients and instructions delivered to your door, all you do is put them together, easy peasy.
Whether or not it's true that no one has time to meal plan is uncertain; what is more certain is that people are no longer choosing to devote the time to this task like they used to. One could argue that people have been trying to save time with meal prep for generations--the microwave, Betty Crocker, TV Dinners, InstaPots are a few examples of 'shortcuts' that have become popularized over the years. These meal services would have us believe that life would be easier if we submit and surrender to their monthly meal plans. We would have more time! To spend with our kids! To spend with our spouses! Sure, maybe, God forbid we actually spend more time with these people. But what we for sure will have less of if we subscribe to these meal services is money.
Once upon a time people loved driving and shopping so much that malls with huge parking lots were built. People would leave their homes and drive out into traffic to select their own clothing, furniture, appliances, and food. Now the idea of the physical act of going shopping in public has become so distasteful that people actively complain about it, even apropos of nothing (mention the mall in passing to a group of middle-aged women and wait for the acerbic vitriol that spews forth), and are ever-vigilant for ways to evade The Mall. I want to know why this has happened, because it makes no goddamned sense. In my particular area, we are on our third mall. Each time a new mall was built in this town, the old mall became defunct, dying a slow death, until finally taken over by server farms or career schools. The very idea of fighting traffic to get out of your car, walk inside of a mall where there are many things to look at, is horrific to women, even women who probably used to love shopping when they were younger!
Since the millennium, we have somehow grown disenchanted with the idea of malls, of being among a mass of people, of vying with the public to get goods and services required for life. I think it is because people who managed to obtain goods and services without leaving their home, especially if they're at a lower cost, feel somehow more clever than all of the 'fools' who dare to go out shopping among the masses of humanity. And so it goes. We are all worshipers at the altar of Amazon and the free 2-day shipping; it's like a dream! You want something, it appears two days later, no effort required, just a credit card. And so we order things, sometimes singly--a planner here, headphones there, a book--and we are mostly happy. Who cares that multiple shipments like that are bad for the environment? We didn't have to drive anywhere, never mind that your stupid self-help book had to be shipped across the country to get to you in two days.
But certain things--clothes, shoes, bathing suits--are not so easy to order online, no matter how hard we try. Because the human body comes in all shapes and sizes, and manufactured clothing does too, online shopping can make 'the right fit' even more elusive than it is when we shop in person for these items. I can speak from experience here. I tried online shopping for shoes, but have been so disappointed with the results that I now refuse to shop for shoes this way. It seems like a giant waste of my time and resources, because I will inevitably have to ship something I ordered back because of a lousy fit. I still occasionally fall prey to the lure of 'cheap' clothes on Amazon, but when they arrive 3 weeks later and don't fit or look much like their picture, I am frustrated and have to return the item, which Amazon half the time just tells me to keep because it's not worth the cost of returning it to them. Sucker!
I worry that if we stop going out and selecting the items we purchase, especially food, we become even more removed from the world and from reality. And are we really spending that time in better ways? We're probably just watching more TV, since there's so much of it now. Someday, when all of the brick and mortar stores are gone because of our lazy need for online shopping, we may regret that there is no place to go to physically view/feel/try on the items we seek; it is then that we will mourn the Shopping Mall That Once Was. There will be no more public interaction, no longer will we enjoy the feel of airing ourselves out in public; everything becomes an endless loop of clicking, buying, returning, repeat.
Home meal delivery is a new signifier of wealth in today's economy, another example of the alleged triumph of time over money. Shopping for one's own food or cooking that food are now considered undesirable wastes of time by a growing segment of the population. It is indeed now a sign of smartness and, one could argue, ostentation, to order meals delivered to your door instead of the quaint notion of shopping and putting a meal together oneself. Or so the marketing folks behind these services would have you believe. No one has the time to meal plan, these services seem to say, how nice to have complete meal ingredients and instructions delivered to your door, all you do is put them together, easy peasy.
Whether or not it's true that no one has time to meal plan is uncertain; what is more certain is that people are no longer choosing to devote the time to this task like they used to. One could argue that people have been trying to save time with meal prep for generations--the microwave, Betty Crocker, TV Dinners, InstaPots are a few examples of 'shortcuts' that have become popularized over the years. These meal services would have us believe that life would be easier if we submit and surrender to their monthly meal plans. We would have more time! To spend with our kids! To spend with our spouses! Sure, maybe, God forbid we actually spend more time with these people. But what we for sure will have less of if we subscribe to these meal services is money.
Once upon a time people loved driving and shopping so much that malls with huge parking lots were built. People would leave their homes and drive out into traffic to select their own clothing, furniture, appliances, and food. Now the idea of the physical act of going shopping in public has become so distasteful that people actively complain about it, even apropos of nothing (mention the mall in passing to a group of middle-aged women and wait for the acerbic vitriol that spews forth), and are ever-vigilant for ways to evade The Mall. I want to know why this has happened, because it makes no goddamned sense. In my particular area, we are on our third mall. Each time a new mall was built in this town, the old mall became defunct, dying a slow death, until finally taken over by server farms or career schools. The very idea of fighting traffic to get out of your car, walk inside of a mall where there are many things to look at, is horrific to women, even women who probably used to love shopping when they were younger!
Since the millennium, we have somehow grown disenchanted with the idea of malls, of being among a mass of people, of vying with the public to get goods and services required for life. I think it is because people who managed to obtain goods and services without leaving their home, especially if they're at a lower cost, feel somehow more clever than all of the 'fools' who dare to go out shopping among the masses of humanity. And so it goes. We are all worshipers at the altar of Amazon and the free 2-day shipping; it's like a dream! You want something, it appears two days later, no effort required, just a credit card. And so we order things, sometimes singly--a planner here, headphones there, a book--and we are mostly happy. Who cares that multiple shipments like that are bad for the environment? We didn't have to drive anywhere, never mind that your stupid self-help book had to be shipped across the country to get to you in two days.
But certain things--clothes, shoes, bathing suits--are not so easy to order online, no matter how hard we try. Because the human body comes in all shapes and sizes, and manufactured clothing does too, online shopping can make 'the right fit' even more elusive than it is when we shop in person for these items. I can speak from experience here. I tried online shopping for shoes, but have been so disappointed with the results that I now refuse to shop for shoes this way. It seems like a giant waste of my time and resources, because I will inevitably have to ship something I ordered back because of a lousy fit. I still occasionally fall prey to the lure of 'cheap' clothes on Amazon, but when they arrive 3 weeks later and don't fit or look much like their picture, I am frustrated and have to return the item, which Amazon half the time just tells me to keep because it's not worth the cost of returning it to them. Sucker!
I worry that if we stop going out and selecting the items we purchase, especially food, we become even more removed from the world and from reality. And are we really spending that time in better ways? We're probably just watching more TV, since there's so much of it now. Someday, when all of the brick and mortar stores are gone because of our lazy need for online shopping, we may regret that there is no place to go to physically view/feel/try on the items we seek; it is then that we will mourn the Shopping Mall That Once Was. There will be no more public interaction, no longer will we enjoy the feel of airing ourselves out in public; everything becomes an endless loop of clicking, buying, returning, repeat.
Monday, August 21, 2017
Back from the Dead and Spewing Bile
I have been thinking about posting here periodically over the past 8 months. I've had many fleeting thoughts and comparisons about what it's like to live in Louisiana again, and what it's like to miss New York, but now that I'm actually logging on for the first time since December, I can't for the life of me remember any of them. I should really take better notes. Let's just see what comes out.
I was also scared off of posting anything for a bit because of a bit of a stalker situation, but I'm past the trauma of that experience and no longer have any fucks left to give about that.
It's been almost a year since I left my job at Cengage, and since I left New York. It has been a long and difficult transition, and in many ways, we are still transitioning. From where I sit now, I honestly can't foresee a time when we're done 'transitioning.'
Louisiana...is stupid. It's ridiculously hot, people are the exact opposite of people in New York, meaning they may seem nice and polite, but really they are hateful motherfuckers. I have been shocked by the secret racism that permeates everything here, and the horrific rage people seem to be hiding underneath that glistening surface of politeness. People here are dicks! They just hide it real well.
Why did I move here again? Family...I moved here to be closer to family. Right. Why on earth did I think that was a good idea?? My mother is certifiable, you never know which version of her you're going to get when you speak to her. And she's on the outs with one of my uncles, which means we never see that entire side of the family now. At least I have my sister and her daughter, I try to focus on that.
Politics...maybe it's just me, but I feel like I live in the secret annex with Anne Frank because I feel I have to keep quiet about politics and social issues because EVERYONE HERE DISAGREES WITH EVERYTHING I BELIEVE IN. I have somehow made close friends who have diametrically opposed belief systems to me. It's BIZARRE. I choose not to discuss this stuff, try to stay away from it, but people sure are quick to discredit everything I might have to say BECAUSE SHE'S LIBERAL, SHE DIDN'T VOTE FOR TRUMP. I am so disgusted with the way people prejudge Democrats that I changed my political party to INDEPENDENT when I registered here. Fuck y'all, motherfuckers, I hate both parties!
Trump...the obvious reason to hate living here. EVERYONE voted for him. You know those 60% of white women who voted for him? Well most of them live here. Nearly everyone I know voted for him, and they are proud of it. I don't have the guts to ask them if they regret that decision now in light of recent events...mostly because I know many of them don't even follow the news and probably have no idea of what he's done and what an ass he is. And I just know my mom would poo-pooh "all that racism stuff" because I know her and she would probably say the liberal media is blowing it out of proportion, making a story where there is none. Seriously. I already know that whatever she would say would send me into a rage fit, and there's no arguing with latent racism. But enough about that.
My job...the job I was hired to do, I no longer do. Mostly because they decided to hit the pause button on developing the side of the business I was initially hired to work on...so I have been moved to other projects. It's a good thing, they wanted to keep me so they moved me to protect me...but it's like having a new job all over again after a year of "adjusting" to a new place, a new industry, new coworkers, new office culture. Still, I'm grateful for my job, it's the one thing giving me hope and keeping me sane amidst all of the insanity in my personal life at the moment.
At least in my new office location I will no longer be an unwitting witness to whomever washes or doesn't wash their hands after using the bathroom. Especially scary when you consider that men shake hands here like they haven't seen you in months, but they saw you yesterday. *Shudder*
Ok, that feels better. I had to get it all out. It's not all bad, but sometimes the bad far outweighs anything remotely good. Perhaps in future posts I can extol some of the virtues of living here again after 25 years away, like how I feel like Rip Van Winkle, awakening after 25 years to a town with horrific infrastructure and terrible traffic, where cars are abandoned on the side of the interstate at regular intervals, where there are now homeless beggars at every major stoplight. Scratch Rip Van Winkle, I'm more like Marty McFly in Back to the Future II when he returns to Lyon Estates and it's wasted and crime-ridden.
I was also scared off of posting anything for a bit because of a bit of a stalker situation, but I'm past the trauma of that experience and no longer have any fucks left to give about that.
It's been almost a year since I left my job at Cengage, and since I left New York. It has been a long and difficult transition, and in many ways, we are still transitioning. From where I sit now, I honestly can't foresee a time when we're done 'transitioning.'
Louisiana...is stupid. It's ridiculously hot, people are the exact opposite of people in New York, meaning they may seem nice and polite, but really they are hateful motherfuckers. I have been shocked by the secret racism that permeates everything here, and the horrific rage people seem to be hiding underneath that glistening surface of politeness. People here are dicks! They just hide it real well.
Why did I move here again? Family...I moved here to be closer to family. Right. Why on earth did I think that was a good idea?? My mother is certifiable, you never know which version of her you're going to get when you speak to her. And she's on the outs with one of my uncles, which means we never see that entire side of the family now. At least I have my sister and her daughter, I try to focus on that.
Politics...maybe it's just me, but I feel like I live in the secret annex with Anne Frank because I feel I have to keep quiet about politics and social issues because EVERYONE HERE DISAGREES WITH EVERYTHING I BELIEVE IN. I have somehow made close friends who have diametrically opposed belief systems to me. It's BIZARRE. I choose not to discuss this stuff, try to stay away from it, but people sure are quick to discredit everything I might have to say BECAUSE SHE'S LIBERAL, SHE DIDN'T VOTE FOR TRUMP. I am so disgusted with the way people prejudge Democrats that I changed my political party to INDEPENDENT when I registered here. Fuck y'all, motherfuckers, I hate both parties!
Trump...the obvious reason to hate living here. EVERYONE voted for him. You know those 60% of white women who voted for him? Well most of them live here. Nearly everyone I know voted for him, and they are proud of it. I don't have the guts to ask them if they regret that decision now in light of recent events...mostly because I know many of them don't even follow the news and probably have no idea of what he's done and what an ass he is. And I just know my mom would poo-pooh "all that racism stuff" because I know her and she would probably say the liberal media is blowing it out of proportion, making a story where there is none. Seriously. I already know that whatever she would say would send me into a rage fit, and there's no arguing with latent racism. But enough about that.
My job...the job I was hired to do, I no longer do. Mostly because they decided to hit the pause button on developing the side of the business I was initially hired to work on...so I have been moved to other projects. It's a good thing, they wanted to keep me so they moved me to protect me...but it's like having a new job all over again after a year of "adjusting" to a new place, a new industry, new coworkers, new office culture. Still, I'm grateful for my job, it's the one thing giving me hope and keeping me sane amidst all of the insanity in my personal life at the moment.
At least in my new office location I will no longer be an unwitting witness to whomever washes or doesn't wash their hands after using the bathroom. Especially scary when you consider that men shake hands here like they haven't seen you in months, but they saw you yesterday. *Shudder*
Ok, that feels better. I had to get it all out. It's not all bad, but sometimes the bad far outweighs anything remotely good. Perhaps in future posts I can extol some of the virtues of living here again after 25 years away, like how I feel like Rip Van Winkle, awakening after 25 years to a town with horrific infrastructure and terrible traffic, where cars are abandoned on the side of the interstate at regular intervals, where there are now homeless beggars at every major stoplight. Scratch Rip Van Winkle, I'm more like Marty McFly in Back to the Future II when he returns to Lyon Estates and it's wasted and crime-ridden.
Saturday, December 31, 2016
2016: the year everyone died.
There were many notable celebrity deaths this year, especially these last few big ones at the tail-end, and they're going to mark 2016 forever after (aka for the next month, tops) as a standout for how many people were taken from the public sphere. But more importantly, what has happened to me on a personal level this year, and can the list of dying celebrities reveal anything about how this year was for me? Yes, it’s time to look back on 2016, in the episodic style of the recent Gilmore Girls revival on Netflix (which was abysmal btw), punctuated by celebrity deaths. Let's see what results.
Winter
In January my grandfather died after being in a nursing home for a couple of years with Alzheimer’s. Many, many lessons were left to be read in his death, a life well-lived but not well-advised. He died with nothing in the end, very sad on many levels, the subject of which could be a book that maybe I’ll write someday. David Bowie and Alan Rickman died.
Spring
At some point during the spring, I turned 40 and got fed up with my job and my life in upstate New York, and started looking for jobs down south, recklessly applying to one that looked promising. After an intense phone screening, I landed an interview during a trip home in late April. I started fantasizing about moving south after 15 years away. Nancy Reagan, Merle Haggard, and Prince died. My mom threw a crawfish boil for my belated 40th birthday.
Summer
After a strong interview but no movement on the Southern job, sudden contact again in mid-July with an hour-long phone interview right before one of two final work trips to Colorado. The first trip was to Denver in late July for a conference with authors I’d worked with for 11 years, a trip that ended with a visit (with coworkers current and past) to Red Rocks to see a Queen cover band. Red Rocks is amazing, and brought me back to my youthful obsession with U2’s Under a Blood Red Sky concert in 1983. Some drunk guy behind us threw up but we had a great time. Early August was the obligatory “drink-the-Koolaid” company retreat in beautiful Keystone, Colorado, fated to be my last trip with my coworkers and friends of many years. While there I enjoyed a full-body massage partially paid for by the company, which included pool and hot tub time, as well as a sample of the local chocolates, which made the overall experience all the more fantastic. There was lots of hard work and drinking on the company dime, line dancing one night, and the next, a DJ dance party that I closed down. During the work trip I scheduled a video conference call with the Southern job for the following week. Two days after the video interview, I was offered the job on a Friday, the weekend of the Flood in South Louisiana. I put in my notice the following Monday. Shock and awe ensued as word spread that I was leaving the company. A nice going away happy hour was held for me, and I said many goodbyes and shed a few tears. I started packing up the entire house and planning our trip south. Meanwhile, Morley Safer, John Berry, Muhammed Ali, Anton Yelchin, and Gene Wilder passed away.
Fall
The fall brought intense change. The plan was for me and my daughter to live with my mom until my husband could join us, which would happen if we sold the house or if he got a job down south too. So the three of us drove to South Louisiana over 4 days, stopping on the way to see some sights, staying in hotels largely paid for by hotel points I’d earned through my travel with my former job. Then, my husband flew back to NY after a few days, and it was just me and my daughter, living with my mom and grandmother. I started a new job in a new industry; my daughter started a new pre-k daycare. Essentially living like a single parent in a town with legendarily terrible traffic, I had to give up working out, had to adjust to living in my hometown again after 25 years, not to mention living with my mom and her mom who has dementia and can’t retain much from minute to minute. I started drinking pretty much daily, a glass of wine or two after work to relax. As I conformed to my new status, I started to lose the ability to feel joy on a day-to-day basis, and no longer had idle time to watch tv or read a book. The happy, boring family life we had in New York had become a memory, a simple state of being once taken for granted that now had to be earned all over again. Brief visits with husband on Halloween and Thanksgiving. Arnold Palmer, Pete Burns, Leonard Cohen, Gwen Ifill, Florence Henderson all died.
Winter
Aemon Targaryen (or the actor who played him) died, a reminder that Winter is Coming for all of us. Except this year, it didn't come for me. I wintered in Louisiana with no snow and a sprinkle of cold days, while 'back home' in upstate NY, they got a ton of snow before Thanksgiving. I don't miss that white shit at all. Closing in on year's end saw a couple of holiday visits from my husband, and the realization that we need him to move down here, as soon as possible. Living as a single parent is hard; living as a single parent when you're not a single parent is harder. It's taking a toll on me and on my daughter, as she misses her dad terribly between visits. On the one hand I live with a mother who is like Cybil from minute to minute, reminding me of why I left home at 18; on the other, my grandmother with dementia set my Bose Colorsound speaker (it was last year's anniversary gift) on fire last night, and tried to hide the evidence, so I'm done pretending I don't think she belongs in a nursing home, time for Mom to face facts. And my husband leaves tomorrow at 6:30 to return to NY until March, when he will join us here for good, job or house situations be damned. John Glenn, Alan Thicke, Zsa Zsa Gabor, George Michael, Carrie Fisher, Debbie Reynolds.
Ok. It's time for me to start drinking. 2016 wasn't that shitty for me personally, looking back on it now. I saw a lot of change this year, but it was good and necessary change for me, but I have a feeling there's a few more hurdles to come before it's smooth sailing again. Fingers crossed that it's all good. However with Donald Trump becoming president in 2017, I'd say we're all fucked on a national scale.
Here's hoping that 2017 doesn't see the further erosion of health care, civil rights, and environmental policies, but I won't hold my breath.
Can you ever go home again? (old draft from 2012)
Ever since I had my baby daughter last year, I've been contemplating moving back home to Louisiana more and more. It reached a critical point when, last summer, family members started suggesting that my husband could get a better-paying job down there. But, luckily, moving to another state is not something that can happen on the spur of the moment. At first I was all gung-ho and excited, then the reality of what moving home would mean started to hit me. So for the past 6-7 months, I've done nothing to further our chances of moving home. I've stalled working on my husband's resume, and I've kind of let the conversations about moving home drop. You see, it's complicated.
In New York State, I became an adult. In New York I got a real job, got married, bought a house, and had a baby. Along the way, I've made some good friends that I will hopefully have for life. But, Louisiana is where my family is. All of them. When I left for New York 12 years ago, I felt like my family didn't know me at all, didn't appreciate me for being 'different' than them; now, I'm starting to feel like I don't really know them at all, when I thought I did.
It's irrational, but when it finally hit me that my daughter wouldn't grow up Southern, and wouldn't know her Southern family except through those shallow twice-a-year visits, I realized that I had to do something to change that, because, much to my surprise, that is unacceptable.
Whether we choose to stay or go, we hurt someone's family, so we have to make the decision that is best for us in the end.
But I'm terrified that going back to live near my family again will put a strain on my marriage. Right now we have a very ideal existence, with family nearby that isn't intrusive and who we don't see everyday. Going home will mean we live near my family, which I haven't done since I left home at 18. My husband and I lived in New Orleans together for 6 years, but my family was an hour away and we lived in a one-bedroom apartment, so there wasn't the risk of a drop-by or an extended visit. This time, if we move back, it will be to the BR and not NOLA, so we'll be within 30 minutes of about 50+ current and past family members. Kinda scary.
I'm glad that we've lived here in New York for as long as we have. Otherwise, I wouldn't have gotten to know my in-laws as well. Our relationship will continue, because we will visit here twice a year instead, and they will come and visit us. But unlike my Southern family, my in-laws don't need us--they are very self-contained people who have a lot going on in their own lives. Back home, I would be the 'rock' for my mom and my sister--a role I've long resisted, but one that is inevitable and that I now choose to embrace as my lot in life. I once said to my husband that I would rather live far away from my family so that I could live my own life, instead of living near them and having to be there for them and deal with their drama (which has been significant); but now? I have lived my own life here, and I've become the person I am on my own--so I think moving back I'd be stronger and better prepared to create boundaries than I was 12 years ago.
Still, I worry that I'll hate living in Louisiana again, that my husband will hate it, and we will miss the independence of our lives here. We won't have friends there right away, only family, and with more family interaction comes more obligation, and for some reason, too many people in my family look to me to solve all their problems. I'll have to put limits on that. But maybe, just maybe, I'll gain a sense of community, if for no other reason than I will know more people per square mile down there than here? But will they be people I like? Here in NY, we surround ourselves with people we chose--friends--family is by definition more difficult because you don't choose them, and they can annoy the crap out of you.
If we hadn't had a baby, we probably would have lived here forever, or moved to some other random place. But we had a baby, and now suddenly my worldview has shifted in very unpredictable ways. I never dreamed I'd end up back in the BR again after so long--I haven't lived there since I was 14! I always thought if we moved back, it would be to NOLA--but now post-Katrina, it's as unsafe as it was when we lived there 12 years ago, plus housing is more expensive b/c of the influx of white college kids. BR is the best option if we are moving to be close to family, and hey, NOLA is only an hour's drive away, and we'll have tons of free babysitting. Right??
It's irrational, but when it finally hit me that my daughter wouldn't grow up Southern, and wouldn't know her Southern family except through those shallow twice-a-year visits, I realized that I had to do something to change that, because, much to my surprise, that is unacceptable.
Whether we choose to stay or go, we hurt someone's family, so we have to make the decision that is best for us in the end.
But I'm terrified that going back to live near my family again will put a strain on my marriage. Right now we have a very ideal existence, with family nearby that isn't intrusive and who we don't see everyday. Going home will mean we live near my family, which I haven't done since I left home at 18. My husband and I lived in New Orleans together for 6 years, but my family was an hour away and we lived in a one-bedroom apartment, so there wasn't the risk of a drop-by or an extended visit. This time, if we move back, it will be to the BR and not NOLA, so we'll be within 30 minutes of about 50+ current and past family members. Kinda scary.
I'm glad that we've lived here in New York for as long as we have. Otherwise, I wouldn't have gotten to know my in-laws as well. Our relationship will continue, because we will visit here twice a year instead, and they will come and visit us. But unlike my Southern family, my in-laws don't need us--they are very self-contained people who have a lot going on in their own lives. Back home, I would be the 'rock' for my mom and my sister--a role I've long resisted, but one that is inevitable and that I now choose to embrace as my lot in life. I once said to my husband that I would rather live far away from my family so that I could live my own life, instead of living near them and having to be there for them and deal with their drama (which has been significant); but now? I have lived my own life here, and I've become the person I am on my own--so I think moving back I'd be stronger and better prepared to create boundaries than I was 12 years ago.
Still, I worry that I'll hate living in Louisiana again, that my husband will hate it, and we will miss the independence of our lives here. We won't have friends there right away, only family, and with more family interaction comes more obligation, and for some reason, too many people in my family look to me to solve all their problems. I'll have to put limits on that. But maybe, just maybe, I'll gain a sense of community, if for no other reason than I will know more people per square mile down there than here? But will they be people I like? Here in NY, we surround ourselves with people we chose--friends--family is by definition more difficult because you don't choose them, and they can annoy the crap out of you.
If we hadn't had a baby, we probably would have lived here forever, or moved to some other random place. But we had a baby, and now suddenly my worldview has shifted in very unpredictable ways. I never dreamed I'd end up back in the BR again after so long--I haven't lived there since I was 14! I always thought if we moved back, it would be to NOLA--but now post-Katrina, it's as unsafe as it was when we lived there 12 years ago, plus housing is more expensive b/c of the influx of white college kids. BR is the best option if we are moving to be close to family, and hey, NOLA is only an hour's drive away, and we'll have tons of free babysitting. Right??
Beware the Man-Boys (unfinished draft, 2016)
I work with a handful of male creatures I've nicknamed 'Man-Boys'. I only just today realized that I know at least three Man-Boys, and realized I was onto something when I connected the commonalities in their behaviors. I'm still working out this theory so bear with me.
The Man-Boy is a late 30s/40-something adult man who still retains the interests he had as a 12-year old boy. These interests may include, but are not limited to, superheroes, sports, comic books, drinking liquor, music, boobies, and video games. Now there is nothing wrong with maintaining interests in any of these things; the tip-off is the perennial wide-eyed excitement they get when talking about their interests, paired with an utter lack of interest in so-called 'grown-up' things like politics or current events. But it's great to stay young at heart, you say, so why is this a bad thing? The problem with Man-Boys isn't their interests; those are merely indicators that help you identify the Man-Boy. The problem is that the Man-Boy also retains a boyish sense of right and wrong, mistaking their solipsistic world for the real one the rest of us live in. Theirs is a world where jokes and innuendos soften the edges of reality, and allow them to live in a cushioned bachelor-pad like space that they create for themselves. It is a space without consequences, where only their desires matter, and where other people and their judgments cease to exist.
The Man-Boys I know are typified by what I term their 'perverted' sense of humor. They are the men who make sexual innuendos at every turn, and who everyone sees as 'harmless' and 'endearing' because they're so jocular and witty. Women secretly like to be flattered, so when the Man-Boy makes a sexual innuendo in their direction, they love it, even though ostensibly nothing will come of it. Man-Boys are usually fun to be around, and attract friends (male and female but mostly female) quite easily. They may even be considered the life of the party in the office, the fun guy who always has the clever quip, and a clever view of the world to go with it.
Man-Boys are harmless, you say, they are fun-loving dudes who like boobies and comic books--big deal, you say. I think that with all Man-Boys there is a destructive potentiality in them that goes unrecognized, and that's when they can become dangerous. I think Man-Boys joke about sex and make innuendos because they are fishing. Even if they aren't conscious of it, it is fishing nonetheless. Fishing for anything that feeds their ego: confidence, acceptance by their peers, laughter of women, and possibly, sexual intrigue with female coworkers. If taken to task for a sexual innuendo, they can just insist they are joking, make you feel like a prude, and it is easily brushed off. Man-Boys may not even be conscious that they are seeking validation in this way; they may be even less conscious that they are overtly fishing for sex. But if sex is presented as an option, the ever-hopeful Man-Boy would absolutely jump at the opportunity. Man-Boys likely think that life is like a spy movie, or should be.
The Man-Boys I know all have complicated relationships with the significant others in their lives, and would likely make better bachelors than life partners. Nevertheless, some are (unhappily) married, and others are permanent cohabitators with their SO, since they view marriage as unnecessary (it's 'just a piece of paper' they say). Most don't have children, though I know of at least one exception.
Because Man-Boys usually have a dismissive attitude towards the world generally, and see themselves as Deep Thinkers who are therefore Exceptions to the Rules, as such they usually have pretty loose moral standards. They get away with saying pretty perverted things, or making stupid jokes that give off the (false) impression that they have deeper knowledge and are sexual dynamos. In my experience, this behavior usually indicates that they are lacking in some aspect of their sexuality--maybe they aren't getting any at home, hate their contentious spouse, or they just have small dicks--and make up for this lack by being overtly sexual at every turn.
Some Man-Boys that I know have the self-awareness to see that their behavior is disgusting, but they do it anyway. It's like a compulsion. This one Man-Boy I know said some pretty gruesome, aggressively sexual things about other female coworkers in my hearing. But generally, I think most Man-Boys think their behavior is blameless, and even winning. All of them are capable of being very professional, speaking with intelligence and clarity, thus earning the respect of their peers even while making disgusting sex jokes.
There are plenty of Men out there who do not behave the way Man-Boys behave, which is why the Man-Boy classification is so distinct. They don't drop sexual innuendos in the presence of female coworkers, they don't have an obsession with boyish things or topics; they respect women and view their wives and girlfriends as partners and friends. They enjoy sex, but they aren't constantly trying to validate something in themselves by seeking sexual attention; and their interests usually evolve over time to include more mature matters than the boyish obsession with superheroes and female body parts.
The Man-Boy is a late 30s/40-something adult man who still retains the interests he had as a 12-year old boy. These interests may include, but are not limited to, superheroes, sports, comic books, drinking liquor, music, boobies, and video games. Now there is nothing wrong with maintaining interests in any of these things; the tip-off is the perennial wide-eyed excitement they get when talking about their interests, paired with an utter lack of interest in so-called 'grown-up' things like politics or current events. But it's great to stay young at heart, you say, so why is this a bad thing? The problem with Man-Boys isn't their interests; those are merely indicators that help you identify the Man-Boy. The problem is that the Man-Boy also retains a boyish sense of right and wrong, mistaking their solipsistic world for the real one the rest of us live in. Theirs is a world where jokes and innuendos soften the edges of reality, and allow them to live in a cushioned bachelor-pad like space that they create for themselves. It is a space without consequences, where only their desires matter, and where other people and their judgments cease to exist.
The Man-Boys I know are typified by what I term their 'perverted' sense of humor. They are the men who make sexual innuendos at every turn, and who everyone sees as 'harmless' and 'endearing' because they're so jocular and witty. Women secretly like to be flattered, so when the Man-Boy makes a sexual innuendo in their direction, they love it, even though ostensibly nothing will come of it. Man-Boys are usually fun to be around, and attract friends (male and female but mostly female) quite easily. They may even be considered the life of the party in the office, the fun guy who always has the clever quip, and a clever view of the world to go with it.
Man-Boys are harmless, you say, they are fun-loving dudes who like boobies and comic books--big deal, you say. I think that with all Man-Boys there is a destructive potentiality in them that goes unrecognized, and that's when they can become dangerous. I think Man-Boys joke about sex and make innuendos because they are fishing. Even if they aren't conscious of it, it is fishing nonetheless. Fishing for anything that feeds their ego: confidence, acceptance by their peers, laughter of women, and possibly, sexual intrigue with female coworkers. If taken to task for a sexual innuendo, they can just insist they are joking, make you feel like a prude, and it is easily brushed off. Man-Boys may not even be conscious that they are seeking validation in this way; they may be even less conscious that they are overtly fishing for sex. But if sex is presented as an option, the ever-hopeful Man-Boy would absolutely jump at the opportunity. Man-Boys likely think that life is like a spy movie, or should be.
The Man-Boys I know all have complicated relationships with the significant others in their lives, and would likely make better bachelors than life partners. Nevertheless, some are (unhappily) married, and others are permanent cohabitators with their SO, since they view marriage as unnecessary (it's 'just a piece of paper' they say). Most don't have children, though I know of at least one exception.
Because Man-Boys usually have a dismissive attitude towards the world generally, and see themselves as Deep Thinkers who are therefore Exceptions to the Rules, as such they usually have pretty loose moral standards. They get away with saying pretty perverted things, or making stupid jokes that give off the (false) impression that they have deeper knowledge and are sexual dynamos. In my experience, this behavior usually indicates that they are lacking in some aspect of their sexuality--maybe they aren't getting any at home, hate their contentious spouse, or they just have small dicks--and make up for this lack by being overtly sexual at every turn.
Some Man-Boys that I know have the self-awareness to see that their behavior is disgusting, but they do it anyway. It's like a compulsion. This one Man-Boy I know said some pretty gruesome, aggressively sexual things about other female coworkers in my hearing. But generally, I think most Man-Boys think their behavior is blameless, and even winning. All of them are capable of being very professional, speaking with intelligence and clarity, thus earning the respect of their peers even while making disgusting sex jokes.
There are plenty of Men out there who do not behave the way Man-Boys behave, which is why the Man-Boy classification is so distinct. They don't drop sexual innuendos in the presence of female coworkers, they don't have an obsession with boyish things or topics; they respect women and view their wives and girlfriends as partners and friends. They enjoy sex, but they aren't constantly trying to validate something in themselves by seeking sexual attention; and their interests usually evolve over time to include more mature matters than the boyish obsession with superheroes and female body parts.
Monday, May 16, 2016
Living in limbo.
So I've done something potentially life-changing: I applied for a job down south. The interview was two weeks ago tomorrow. A series of personal connections landed me the interview, and the interview itself went really well. But for the last two weeks I've been living in a weird sort of limbo, where I can't make any definite plans for the summer or the immediate future because I simply must refrain from doing so until I have more information on what is going to happen.
They said they would let me know about the job either way, but that I would likely hear in early June or late May. It's really hard not to get my hopes up, because I'm sick of my job (it's just time for a change), and I'm sick of the weather here, sick of our neighborhood, sick of my daughter's private school. I know I'm setting myself up for extreme disappointment by daydreaming about leaving here this summer, but I can't stop. If nothing else, I'm learning that I'm more ready to leave here than I originally thought!
They say you can't go home again (well, specifically, Thomas Wolfe said it). In many ways, I think that's unfortunately true. There will be many uncomfortable family-related things that I will need to confront and/or deal with. I've lived away from them for 15 years now, and I'm not used to regular contact, and there are a lot of uncomfortable conversations about politics and religion that I manage to avoid in my visits home. But the advantages of moving back outweigh any personal strife I will have initially with my family.
Unless you've lived away from family for an extended period of time, you can't appreciate how fast things change when you're not there. One visit home, my sister is pregnant; the next, she has a baby; by the next planned visit, that baby will be crawling. Their lives have flown by for me, and my family and I have lived separate lives thousands of miles apart, and they're becoming like strangers because of the distance. Phone calls and video chat help, but it's no replacement for regular in-person contact. For many years I believed that I needed space to live my own life, because my mom's needs would have swallowed me up. Well I've had that space and then some. I no longer shrink from the fact that my family looks to me for guidance, as the voice of reason amidst the insanity; I welcome the challenge to feel that needed.
I'm ready for the next phase of my life. I turned 40 this year, so I think I've turned a corner in terms of life experience. I've been at the same job nearly 12 years now, and it's time to prove myself elsewhere and get paid a more realistic wage for the work I do. After 15 years I still don't feel personally connected to upstate New York; it's just not home, and I miss my family. I lost my grandfather this year; my grandma has dementia. I want to connect with and spend time with the rest of my family before we all get too old and/or it's too late. Love 'em or hate 'em, they're still your family at the end of the day.
Whether I get this particular job or not, I know now that I'm ready to move, impatient even. It's hard to continue in the same situation once you've come to the conclusion, not just that you're ready to move on, but that you need to move on. You have to embrace the unknown and the uncomfortable because suddenly it's preferable to continuing to live in the prison of current reality. One step at a time and I'll get us home.
Sunday, February 21, 2016
There is too much TV now.
There, I've said it. Gone are the days when there were only a few channels and everyone grew up watching the same dozen or so shows. Those shared collective entertainment experiences of the early TV generations helped to make the super-referential pop culture we all enjoy now. Back in the day, we all knew who shot JR, but now we can't answer the question, did Glenn just die on the Walking Dead? No, because I haven't seen it yet, and SPOILERS! Glenn, who's Glenn? What show again? No I'm not caught up, I stopped watching it in season four, I don't watch TWD, I don't like scary shows, I watch OITNB instead. Sigh.
Because there were so few channels and shows back then, you could go into work or school the next day and bank on the fact that everyone had watched the latest episode, because there were no repeats! There was no catching it again tomorrow night on Hulu, or saving it to your DVR, or whatever. In the 80s you might have 'taped' your show but that was cumbersome. If you missed it, that episode was GONE until maybe it possibly popped up again in reruns over the summer. So we all planned our schedules around our favorite shows and watched faithfully week to week.
You would think in this era with so much repeat access to a set of episodes, that you can still bet that your coworkers will be as caught up as you, even if it takes them a week or so to get there. Not so. Like the microwave, on-demand tv technology didn't free up our time, it just created more time for us to do other things with, like watch more tv. So, we're too busy to watch live tv, and because there is too much tv, we can't possibly have time to watch it all. And because there is too much good tv, any random set of 10 people will likely all be watching different tv shows. You can watch and re-watch selected episodes of the Wire, Rick and Morty, or binge-watch whole seasons of shows from the 90s. What's current to you isn't necessarily current to others in your peer group. Just think, future generations will have grown up watching whatever they want whenever they want with no reference to a calendar or sequence of events. There will be fewer shows that become shows that EVERYONE watches, and therefore fewer puns and shared references that unite us in pop culture and friendship.
Sometimes in order to bolster work relationships I confess I've tuned into a show that my peers were watching just to be part of the conversation and see what all the fuss was about. We all use tv as a social currency, something to fall back on in conversation when we've run out of small talk. When it works, it works great; many conversations can be had about tv before you realize you've really spent an hour talking about nothing with an acquaintance. But when you can't find a show in common with someone it is the worst. There is literally nothing left to talk about!
Because there were so few channels and shows back then, you could go into work or school the next day and bank on the fact that everyone had watched the latest episode, because there were no repeats! There was no catching it again tomorrow night on Hulu, or saving it to your DVR, or whatever. In the 80s you might have 'taped' your show but that was cumbersome. If you missed it, that episode was GONE until maybe it possibly popped up again in reruns over the summer. So we all planned our schedules around our favorite shows and watched faithfully week to week.
You would think in this era with so much repeat access to a set of episodes, that you can still bet that your coworkers will be as caught up as you, even if it takes them a week or so to get there. Not so. Like the microwave, on-demand tv technology didn't free up our time, it just created more time for us to do other things with, like watch more tv. So, we're too busy to watch live tv, and because there is too much tv, we can't possibly have time to watch it all. And because there is too much good tv, any random set of 10 people will likely all be watching different tv shows. You can watch and re-watch selected episodes of the Wire, Rick and Morty, or binge-watch whole seasons of shows from the 90s. What's current to you isn't necessarily current to others in your peer group. Just think, future generations will have grown up watching whatever they want whenever they want with no reference to a calendar or sequence of events. There will be fewer shows that become shows that EVERYONE watches, and therefore fewer puns and shared references that unite us in pop culture and friendship.
Sometimes in order to bolster work relationships I confess I've tuned into a show that my peers were watching just to be part of the conversation and see what all the fuss was about. We all use tv as a social currency, something to fall back on in conversation when we've run out of small talk. When it works, it works great; many conversations can be had about tv before you realize you've really spent an hour talking about nothing with an acquaintance. But when you can't find a show in common with someone it is the worst. There is literally nothing left to talk about!
Wednesday, May 6, 2015
Vegas for the 6th Time
Last month I was in Vegas for work, again, and I wrote down these thoughts near the end of my trip. I think it about sums it up.
People everywhere all the time, with children! Babies!
Multiples! Less porn card flicking on
the streets than I remember. I wonder if these two things are connected. Less
dinging noises overall when in the casinos—from the slot machines that is. Am I
imagining that or is it a fact? Vegas needs to recycle, but I’m sure people
don’t want to be bothered with real-world problems like that when in the MOST
UNNATURAL PLACE ON EARTH. You only need to eat twice a day: breakfast and
dinner. And eating eventually begets ennui. Flip-flops are not the best for
walking. Everything is farther away than it seems. Even white women can get
ashy. Eye drops are a necessity. Water is a precious resource; hey let’s waste
it in a fountain that shoots off daily every half hour! Some people really don’t
care what they look like in public. How do these street hawkers end up in those
jobs? More people in character costumes on the streets, working for photos and
tips. Spotted: Wolverine, Minion, Olaf everywhere, Elsa, showgirls, Captain
America, Iron Man, scary Chewbacca. Endless flow of people means endless flow
of money. The service workers look tired. Roulette is an easy game you can play
for an hour. Even the old, thick cocktail waitresses have to wear boob- and
ass-bearing costumes. They blatantly stick ‘le’ in front of words just so they
sound French to the average person. I’m ready to go home.
Tuesday, May 5, 2015
Something has got to change
I think I'm in the middle of some kind of life crisis. I just turned 39, I've been in the same job for 10 1/2 years, I hate where I live, don't want to move back to where I came from. In a word, I'm stuck. I have the sort of job that is difficult to explain to people outside the industry--and I've never worked anywhere else professionally. And every day lately I dread going to work, because it never stops. It's like if you opened a fire hydrant and had to stand there and let the water blast you full-force in the face. Everyday. And I'm tired. So tired.
What is my next move? So many options of things to change, but I'm stymied by choice, and the chain of events those choices will start. Yet I've got to move myself forward out of this downward spiral, somehow. Gone are the days when I could just quit a job and move. And fuck expectation--the only people I want to consider in my choices are my husband and my child; no one else matters. I have fewer friends these days, I watch as everyone around me gets older and FUCK it means I'm getting older too, much too fast. The weekdays slowly drift by and I drink wine and watch TV at night, because the weekends are over before they start and I can't ever relax, I just want to be in a cocoon sometimes. I just don't want to go back to work! I can't take a day off, much less a real vacation; it's very much expected that you are tied to your job, and I fight that as much as possible, but it's not always possible. I'm tired of the problems and bullshit, tired of feeling like everyone's dog. Tired, tired, tired.
Man it's horrible to keep living the same life once you've decided you're done with it. But baby steps and I'll get there...
Thursday, August 28, 2014
Do you know what it means? Watching Treme, the Final Season
Just finished watching the final season of Treme. Man, that show gets so much right. The power of the entire thing kinda snuck up on me during these last five episodes, and I was literally in tears during the last episode over the tragic beauty of it all. (Ok maybe I'd also had too much wine during Episode 5.)
It's that tension between having an authentic culture, and having that culture also be a tourist attraction, and needing that culture to be who you are and for your livelihood. That tension between wanting to live your life in a city, and having happy moments torn open by random violence at a parade. Between trying to do good work in a place infested with corruption; being a part of a culture that is simultaneously enveloping and familial, yet dismissed as niche and quaint from a national perspective.
David Simon may be a commercial failure in terms of his ability to attract viewership, but IMO he is a fucking genius. The Wire is a work of art, and Treme is amazing for many of the same reasons. He has this ability to see the nuances at play when these kinds of tensions are acting upon us, infecting our culture, our cities, our families, our identities. Maybe Treme is more relate-able for me because I spent my formative years in New Orleans; maybe the references are too 'in', the struggles too specific, the music too loose for the show to have mass appeal. But therein lies the genius of Treme. David Simon was never going to create a show about New Orleans in the aftermath of Katrina that was going to be popular, y'all.
I was going to post a video but it came in upside down, so I'll end with a direct quote from DJ Davis:
"Do you know how sometimes you hear a song that you've heard a million times before, and maybe you're even tired of hearing it, but this time, maybe because of something you've been through, or maybe because of something you now understand, you hear that song again. Maybe it's a new version; maybe not. But you realize there's a fresh world in there to be heard? Yeah, me too."
Thank you, David Simon, for the love letter you wrote for New Orleans, that city I used to love to hate, and now I hate to love.
It's that tension between having an authentic culture, and having that culture also be a tourist attraction, and needing that culture to be who you are and for your livelihood. That tension between wanting to live your life in a city, and having happy moments torn open by random violence at a parade. Between trying to do good work in a place infested with corruption; being a part of a culture that is simultaneously enveloping and familial, yet dismissed as niche and quaint from a national perspective.
David Simon may be a commercial failure in terms of his ability to attract viewership, but IMO he is a fucking genius. The Wire is a work of art, and Treme is amazing for many of the same reasons. He has this ability to see the nuances at play when these kinds of tensions are acting upon us, infecting our culture, our cities, our families, our identities. Maybe Treme is more relate-able for me because I spent my formative years in New Orleans; maybe the references are too 'in', the struggles too specific, the music too loose for the show to have mass appeal. But therein lies the genius of Treme. David Simon was never going to create a show about New Orleans in the aftermath of Katrina that was going to be popular, y'all.
I was going to post a video but it came in upside down, so I'll end with a direct quote from DJ Davis:
"Do you know how sometimes you hear a song that you've heard a million times before, and maybe you're even tired of hearing it, but this time, maybe because of something you've been through, or maybe because of something you now understand, you hear that song again. Maybe it's a new version; maybe not. But you realize there's a fresh world in there to be heard? Yeah, me too."
Thank you, David Simon, for the love letter you wrote for New Orleans, that city I used to love to hate, and now I hate to love.
Tuesday, June 17, 2014
Is Cinderella going to eat my daughter? If so, when?
I've been reading the book, Cinderella Ate My Daughter, off and on during my work travels. My daughter recently turned 2.5, and at the moment, she seems very far away from identifying with the girlie/pink/princess phenomenon that seems to claim everyone's daughters (more or less) by the time they turn three. In fact, she's inordinately obsessed with PURPLE. So, I await the coming transformation with trepidation. I am eternally grateful that this book exists, because like the author (Peggy Orenstein), I wasn't raised on Pretty Pink Princess bullshit because it didn't exist until the 1990s. My sister, who is nearly 10 years my junior, came into being during the height of the PPP bullshit, however, so I feel like I lived through it, even if it wasn't my childhood. I remember watching The Little Mermaid with her until we both had the lines memorized; ditto Beauty and the Beast. But even back then, you didn't walk into a store and have all of the 'girl' stuff so readily segregated by color.
I reject and resent the pink fascism that pervades today, but because I don't want my daughter to become obsessed with it because of my rejection, I try to be neutral about the whole thing. At the local yogurt shop, they have a choice--green or pink spoons--and our little girl has picked the GREEN SPOON countless times, which I am secretly proud of. She even carries it around with her like some sort of totemic object, and rejects the pink spoons out of hand. GREEN SPOON is in the fist on the way to daycare, with her all day long, and then in the bath and bed with her at night. The pink spoons? They live a largely cloistered life inside of her PINK kitchen set (a gift from my PPP mother).
Do little girls really prefer pink or is it now stuffed down their throats? I'm afraid all evidence points to the latter, my friends. Pink as a color was originally more identified with infant boys because of its close link to red, a dominant color. However even in our modern, open-minded times, the color-coded messages and behaviors associated to your gender are ever-restrictive in the aisles of Target: blue is for boys, pink is for girls. End of discussion.
By accident of birth and circumstance, my angelic daughter has found herself the only girl in her daycare classroom. I read in the book that girls and boys self-segregate around this time, and even when they would play together, teachers don't recognize/promote this behavior, and so it doesn't really develop. But my daughter is the only girl in a class of 4 boys; does this phase her? No. She immediately starts racing cars with the boys in the morning, or running races back and forth across the classroom; or instructing them on how to use the potty ("Up?" she said as a fellow playmate stepped up to the potty, referring to the lid).
Will being the only girl in a class of boys stave off the PPP phenomenon for a time? Probably. I think a lot of that shit is actually started by girls' parents, who want their daughters to participate in it. And then other girls pick it up from their PPP classmates...and the cycle continues. I'm not saying my daughter is immune to the PPP, and it may even be good for her to go through a girly phase...but if and when that does occur, it's going to be hard for me to stomach. I just want her to explore whatever she likes, and I don't want her imagination to be quashed by being submitted to too many pre-determined playbooks via stories, movies, etc. I want her to invent her own!
The bigger thing to fear in this day and age, perhaps, is the INTERNET and the social media within and around it. I've been a member of Facebook for many years now, but I was raised and came to adulthood in an environment before Facebook existed. I worry that the artificial construct of the psyche that Facebook creates in all of us is going to be the downfall of polite society, period. Or, if handled properly, maybe the future will be full of savvy internet types who are able to communicate their hopes and dreams more eloquently than mine ever could...maybe. Here is one quote that stood out for me from the aforementioned book:
"The self...becomes a brand, something to be marketed to others rather than developed from within. Instead of intimates with whom you interact for the sake of the exchange, friends become your consumers, an audience for whom you perform."
Yeah, that shit's scary, and it's happening now, to all of us. Just imagine how it will affect our babies and toddlers in the coming years.
I reject and resent the pink fascism that pervades today, but because I don't want my daughter to become obsessed with it because of my rejection, I try to be neutral about the whole thing. At the local yogurt shop, they have a choice--green or pink spoons--and our little girl has picked the GREEN SPOON countless times, which I am secretly proud of. She even carries it around with her like some sort of totemic object, and rejects the pink spoons out of hand. GREEN SPOON is in the fist on the way to daycare, with her all day long, and then in the bath and bed with her at night. The pink spoons? They live a largely cloistered life inside of her PINK kitchen set (a gift from my PPP mother).
Do little girls really prefer pink or is it now stuffed down their throats? I'm afraid all evidence points to the latter, my friends. Pink as a color was originally more identified with infant boys because of its close link to red, a dominant color. However even in our modern, open-minded times, the color-coded messages and behaviors associated to your gender are ever-restrictive in the aisles of Target: blue is for boys, pink is for girls. End of discussion.
By accident of birth and circumstance, my angelic daughter has found herself the only girl in her daycare classroom. I read in the book that girls and boys self-segregate around this time, and even when they would play together, teachers don't recognize/promote this behavior, and so it doesn't really develop. But my daughter is the only girl in a class of 4 boys; does this phase her? No. She immediately starts racing cars with the boys in the morning, or running races back and forth across the classroom; or instructing them on how to use the potty ("Up?" she said as a fellow playmate stepped up to the potty, referring to the lid).
Will being the only girl in a class of boys stave off the PPP phenomenon for a time? Probably. I think a lot of that shit is actually started by girls' parents, who want their daughters to participate in it. And then other girls pick it up from their PPP classmates...and the cycle continues. I'm not saying my daughter is immune to the PPP, and it may even be good for her to go through a girly phase...but if and when that does occur, it's going to be hard for me to stomach. I just want her to explore whatever she likes, and I don't want her imagination to be quashed by being submitted to too many pre-determined playbooks via stories, movies, etc. I want her to invent her own!
The bigger thing to fear in this day and age, perhaps, is the INTERNET and the social media within and around it. I've been a member of Facebook for many years now, but I was raised and came to adulthood in an environment before Facebook existed. I worry that the artificial construct of the psyche that Facebook creates in all of us is going to be the downfall of polite society, period. Or, if handled properly, maybe the future will be full of savvy internet types who are able to communicate their hopes and dreams more eloquently than mine ever could...maybe. Here is one quote that stood out for me from the aforementioned book:
"The self...becomes a brand, something to be marketed to others rather than developed from within. Instead of intimates with whom you interact for the sake of the exchange, friends become your consumers, an audience for whom you perform."
Yeah, that shit's scary, and it's happening now, to all of us. Just imagine how it will affect our babies and toddlers in the coming years.
Tuesday, April 1, 2014
Busyness, or how my job is giving me ADD
Since I got promoted last year, I am very, very, very busy. Busier than I've ever been before at work. So busy in fact that I don't know how I stay afloat half the time. This is a typical day:
8:45-9:00: arrive at work (after wrangling a toddler in to daycare)
9-12: deal with emails that accumulated overnight/meetings/drop-bys
12-1: lunch outside the office (if no one has scheduled a meeting over it)
1-4: more emails/meetings
4-5: get some actual work done
8-10: more email management (2-3 times/week)
You know there's a problem when you find you have to make fake meetings with yourself just so you can have a block of time to get something important done. (OMG! I have a 2-hour block of time tomorrow--I'd better block it or someone will take it!). And when your director calls to see if time you've blocked out is vacation time or work travel--because if it's the latter, you're expected to be on that webex/conference call, motherfucker! Work travel does NOT excuse you from conference calls! No one cares that you're boarding a plane!
I liken this busyness to what I imagine standing chest-deep in the middle of a rapid river would feel like, foamy water just gushing over you, filling your mouth, your nose, making your eyes close. You can't move, can barely breathe; you just have to deal with the constant onslaught of water in your face. Day after day.
All I can think about is what it might be like to not be so busy. I remember the days when I had the time to surf the internet a little, read articles, etc--it seems like a distant memory now. I daydream too about what it might be like for me if my coworkers could own their own work and I didn't have to micromanage them, and if everyone didn't seem to come to me for every little thing and could help themselves and look something up once in a while. But that will never happen. The buck starts and stops with me now, the more helpful you are the more you're called on to help. Man does that suck for my stress levels.
I am not the kind of person who generally takes stress to bed with them. At least until this week I wasn't. This week I woke up at 4:30 am two nights in a row, thinking about work! I often will wake up before my alarm these days, and my brain will immediately start sorting through some problem at work. Sometimes, it's shit I didn't even know was bothering me. Often, it's productive, and I realize a solution that I might not have otherwise; but mostly it's bothersome and steals sleep from me AND I NEED MY SEVEN HOURS. I don't dream, I problem solve: the saddest bumper sticker ever.
I will admit that a part of me likes this busyness, it makes me feel integral to the organization, important, yadda yadda. I like making decisions, having knowledge, finding solutions to problems, helping people if I can. But I'm doing the work of at least two people (and not making as much as either one of them did), and in general the people I am dependent on to get my products done (but don't have direct management of) continue to underwhelm and disappoint. Occasionally when I step back and get a look at what I manage to accomplish despite the constant onslaught of shit, I'm amazed, and concerned for the future, because surely no one can be expected to maintain this insane pace against such odds for a sustained period of time? I see myself burning out in two years, tops.
Work to live or live to work? I used to resist the idea of work controlling my life, but I think I've not so much given in as given up on the idea of having a separate life from work. Who has time for a separate life when you can be expected to take a phone call even on vacation, or when the payback for taking a vacation is almost not worth the vacation? Who I am is what I do, what I do is who I am. The snake eats itself, the end.
8:45-9:00: arrive at work (after wrangling a toddler in to daycare)
9-12: deal with emails that accumulated overnight/meetings/drop-bys
12-1: lunch outside the office (if no one has scheduled a meeting over it)
1-4: more emails/meetings
4-5: get some actual work done
8-10: more email management (2-3 times/week)
You know there's a problem when you find you have to make fake meetings with yourself just so you can have a block of time to get something important done. (OMG! I have a 2-hour block of time tomorrow--I'd better block it or someone will take it!). And when your director calls to see if time you've blocked out is vacation time or work travel--because if it's the latter, you're expected to be on that webex/conference call, motherfucker! Work travel does NOT excuse you from conference calls! No one cares that you're boarding a plane!
I liken this busyness to what I imagine standing chest-deep in the middle of a rapid river would feel like, foamy water just gushing over you, filling your mouth, your nose, making your eyes close. You can't move, can barely breathe; you just have to deal with the constant onslaught of water in your face. Day after day.
All I can think about is what it might be like to not be so busy. I remember the days when I had the time to surf the internet a little, read articles, etc--it seems like a distant memory now. I daydream too about what it might be like for me if my coworkers could own their own work and I didn't have to micromanage them, and if everyone didn't seem to come to me for every little thing and could help themselves and look something up once in a while. But that will never happen. The buck starts and stops with me now, the more helpful you are the more you're called on to help. Man does that suck for my stress levels.
I am not the kind of person who generally takes stress to bed with them. At least until this week I wasn't. This week I woke up at 4:30 am two nights in a row, thinking about work! I often will wake up before my alarm these days, and my brain will immediately start sorting through some problem at work. Sometimes, it's shit I didn't even know was bothering me. Often, it's productive, and I realize a solution that I might not have otherwise; but mostly it's bothersome and steals sleep from me AND I NEED MY SEVEN HOURS. I don't dream, I problem solve: the saddest bumper sticker ever.
I will admit that a part of me likes this busyness, it makes me feel integral to the organization, important, yadda yadda. I like making decisions, having knowledge, finding solutions to problems, helping people if I can. But I'm doing the work of at least two people (and not making as much as either one of them did), and in general the people I am dependent on to get my products done (but don't have direct management of) continue to underwhelm and disappoint. Occasionally when I step back and get a look at what I manage to accomplish despite the constant onslaught of shit, I'm amazed, and concerned for the future, because surely no one can be expected to maintain this insane pace against such odds for a sustained period of time? I see myself burning out in two years, tops.
Work to live or live to work? I used to resist the idea of work controlling my life, but I think I've not so much given in as given up on the idea of having a separate life from work. Who has time for a separate life when you can be expected to take a phone call even on vacation, or when the payback for taking a vacation is almost not worth the vacation? Who I am is what I do, what I do is who I am. The snake eats itself, the end.
Tuesday, March 18, 2014
50%
Lately I've been traveling a lot more than usual for work. A colleague of mine recently vacated her position, and the description they posted of her job now reads '50% travel during high sales season.' What the fuck does that mean? Every season is high sales season. Due to the random class starts at career schools, it's always adoption decision time somewhere.
I have 6 trips in 6 weeks. Some are a couple of days, others are three plus. It seems a tad excessive for someone who's job is to develop products, not sell them.
And yet this is now what my job has become. It's fine for now, but I do not see myself doing this next year. I'm a mother, but that's meaningless in the corporate world. You're not allowed to complain, you have to pretend you have no attachments, no one who cares if you're home or not. If I mention that I'd like to travel less, I'll get invisibly, insidiously black-balled. We are all busy, no one cares.
That is, no one cares but me. It is up to me to start saying no, and come up with reasons that sound valid, you know, other than, 'I feel like I'm missing out on large chunks of my daughter's development.' I have 8 trips a year for conferences alone, before any additional sales travel. I need to somehow emphasize that my time spent working in products is just as valid as traveling to sell those products. Either that, or become an actual sales rep and make some real money.
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
Plastic is Bad, m'kay?
Plastic creeps me out. The more I think about plastic, the more it bothers me, and the more helpless I feel in the face of it. Our modern world pretty much depends on plastic, and on the petroleum it is made from. There's a documentary on Netflix called Plastic Planet, which just confirms what I already knew: plastic is convenient and handy, in some forms, durable and dutiful; but it's also disposable and deadly. Microscopic bits of it are in the ocean. Fish eat it, we eat it, and who can say what it's doing to us at a cellular level.
Take a moment to take stock of the things around you that contain some form of plastic. I'll start: laptop, iPhone, iPhone case, speakers, water bottle (BPA-free of course), the dress and shoes I'm wearing, planner, calculator, lampshade, office chair, fake succulents, textbooks, walls, picture frames, carpet, purse, raincoat, nail file, stapler, pens, scissors, medicine bottle, lotion bottle...
You get the point. Plastic is literally everywhere. I'm not denying that it is an ingenious invention, without which our modern lives would not be possible (thank you, Science). What I bemoan is the sheer waste of plastic that happens at the most basic levels of life, everyday, by everyone. Our keen desire for plastic goods is unquenchable, and so is our ineluctable disdain of it.
Plastic bags--we know they're bad. Bringing reusable bags to the store makes you feel like you're making a difference, but for every one of us who brings reusable bags when they shop, there are countless others getting a plastic bag for that single quart of milk at Walmart. Recycling--we do it mindlessly, but does it help if not everyone has to participate? It's not the law in some states--my mother chooses not to recycle in Louisiana (and it kills and exhilarates me to just throw stuff away when I visit her). And what's the big picture here--does recycling help at all really anyway? And what's up with all of the plastic stuff that isn't recyclable? Like all the stupidly useless blister packaging that you get when you buy batteries, a toy, or an electronics item? Thinking about this stuff makes me crazy!
Toys are the worst. They are all made of plastic, all of them have a 'do not throw away' (trashcan with a line through it) symbol on the back--but they're not recyclable, so what can you do? The only thing you can really do to stem the tide is to have garage sales and donate items once you're done with them. My abhorrence of plastic goes hand-in-hand with my belief that you shouldn't pay full-price for all kid toys, especially when you KNOW that perfectly good used ones are out there at consignment stores or through Craigslist. Why would I willingly pay top-dollar and generate more plastic in the world, when there is plenty of used plastic already in the world that I can partake of cheaply? I just don't get it people.
But as a parent to a toddler, I'm becoming increasingly aware of how not just much plastic shit people buy for their kids, but how much shit they buy for their kids, period. Playhouses and other yard toys, toy kitchens, pools, water tables, sandboxes, plastic dinner sets, plastic food, plastic vehicles, plastic blocks, etc etc. I get wanting to provide your kid with toys, and hey, it's not your fault that everything's made of plastic! What I don't understand is why everyone has to have their own versions of everything in the universe. We take our girl to a public park to enjoy swings, slides, and whatnot. We have two nice parks about 5-10 minutes from our house by car. I see no need to get my own swing, or slide, or jungle gym. We have a small yard, so acquiring lots of yard toys is not in our immediate future. But even if I had an enormous yard, filling it with plastic lawn toys would most certainly not be in my plan.
Utilizing shared public resources used to be more of an ideal than it seems to be today--maybe it is the whole city versus suburbs thing--but it seems to me that sharing of resources is a good idea, but suburbia generally has a different mindset. Instead of creating public parks that many people can utilize, we must all shoulder the burden of individually acquiring exactly everything. Nevermind that your neighbor has a swimming pool and has given you an open invitation to come swim anytime--you too must spend 70K to acquire your own pool! No one wants to share or be forced to interact with others on any level for any reason. Need I point out that this is not sustainable behavior for the human race?
My daughter likes to swing, so my sister-in-law thinks that we need a swing, like yesterday. She's currently trying to foist off her old rusty backyard swing on us so that we can use it as some sort of frame for the Jerry-rigged baby swing that she thinks we need to build so our child isn't deprived of swinging for one minute. My SIL is of the mindset that if your kid loves it, you absolutely MUST have one of your own. First of all, I don't think we need to buy or reverse-engineer a swing just because our daughter enjoys swinging. I never had a swingset as a child and I never felt deprived! However we have seen my SIL's theory in practice as her own kids have grown up. They once had a giant blow-up bouncy castle that filled an entire room, and now, they have a giant blow-up outdoor water slide with its own electric air blower (cost: $400). She keeps saying that it will be ours next year because her kids will have reached the weight limits on it. How do you tell someone that you don't WANT their giant yard toy/monstrosity?? It would easily take up half my yard. I do kind of need to live in my own house, thank you very much. I already know that our refusal of this 'gift' will end with, 'but you can store it deflated in your already-filled garage until such time as you move and have a yard big enough.' Or, my translation: Just take our shit and shut up!
Kid toys really exemplify what I believe is the fundamental oxymoronic point I want to make about plastic products: they are something that people are willing to pay top-dollar for when new, but since plastic goods quickly become devalued, there is potentially a ton of plastic kid crap lurking around in landfills. But instead of stemming the tide of plastic waste through our own power as consumers, our consumer culture is so screwed up that it thinks, why would you get that used plastic playhouse when you could buy your kid a brand-new one for $150? Plus, don't your kids deserve a new one, as if used things are automatically worthless because they can't convey value the way brand-new items can. Everything in our consumer culture is all about the honorifics of being able to pay for something, no matter how senseless it is, and the ostensible guilt that comes from not being able to afford lots of new things. I call bullshit. I want my kid to have toys, I want to save money, AND be cognizant of the plastic I bring into the world. We got a playhouse for $15, and a kitchen set for $10. Both are in fantastic condition. When it comes time to dispose of these items years from now, we will donate them. So there.
As a culture, we simultaneously desire and abhor cheap goods. People like to save money; I would argue that we also need to be aware of expending less plastic into the world. But it's much easier/efficient/satisfying to shop for new things in a store than it is to hit garage sales or consignment sales, even though you can get the same items for a fraction of the cost if you put in a little effort. It is precisely because all plastic becomes devalued at some point (either at point of sale because the item is 'cheap' or later on because an item is worn out) that we should be more mindful about what we purchase; the more new stuff we buy, the more we corroborate the creation of wasteful plastic. Parents should know that there is a large pile of perfectly nice, used kid toys out there; I just hope they're partaking of them when they can.
Take a moment to take stock of the things around you that contain some form of plastic. I'll start: laptop, iPhone, iPhone case, speakers, water bottle (BPA-free of course), the dress and shoes I'm wearing, planner, calculator, lampshade, office chair, fake succulents, textbooks, walls, picture frames, carpet, purse, raincoat, nail file, stapler, pens, scissors, medicine bottle, lotion bottle...
You get the point. Plastic is literally everywhere. I'm not denying that it is an ingenious invention, without which our modern lives would not be possible (thank you, Science). What I bemoan is the sheer waste of plastic that happens at the most basic levels of life, everyday, by everyone. Our keen desire for plastic goods is unquenchable, and so is our ineluctable disdain of it.
Plastic bags--we know they're bad. Bringing reusable bags to the store makes you feel like you're making a difference, but for every one of us who brings reusable bags when they shop, there are countless others getting a plastic bag for that single quart of milk at Walmart. Recycling--we do it mindlessly, but does it help if not everyone has to participate? It's not the law in some states--my mother chooses not to recycle in Louisiana (and it kills and exhilarates me to just throw stuff away when I visit her). And what's the big picture here--does recycling help at all really anyway? And what's up with all of the plastic stuff that isn't recyclable? Like all the stupidly useless blister packaging that you get when you buy batteries, a toy, or an electronics item? Thinking about this stuff makes me crazy!
Toys are the worst. They are all made of plastic, all of them have a 'do not throw away' (trashcan with a line through it) symbol on the back--but they're not recyclable, so what can you do? The only thing you can really do to stem the tide is to have garage sales and donate items once you're done with them. My abhorrence of plastic goes hand-in-hand with my belief that you shouldn't pay full-price for all kid toys, especially when you KNOW that perfectly good used ones are out there at consignment stores or through Craigslist. Why would I willingly pay top-dollar and generate more plastic in the world, when there is plenty of used plastic already in the world that I can partake of cheaply? I just don't get it people.
But as a parent to a toddler, I'm becoming increasingly aware of how not just much plastic shit people buy for their kids, but how much shit they buy for their kids, period. Playhouses and other yard toys, toy kitchens, pools, water tables, sandboxes, plastic dinner sets, plastic food, plastic vehicles, plastic blocks, etc etc. I get wanting to provide your kid with toys, and hey, it's not your fault that everything's made of plastic! What I don't understand is why everyone has to have their own versions of everything in the universe. We take our girl to a public park to enjoy swings, slides, and whatnot. We have two nice parks about 5-10 minutes from our house by car. I see no need to get my own swing, or slide, or jungle gym. We have a small yard, so acquiring lots of yard toys is not in our immediate future. But even if I had an enormous yard, filling it with plastic lawn toys would most certainly not be in my plan.
Utilizing shared public resources used to be more of an ideal than it seems to be today--maybe it is the whole city versus suburbs thing--but it seems to me that sharing of resources is a good idea, but suburbia generally has a different mindset. Instead of creating public parks that many people can utilize, we must all shoulder the burden of individually acquiring exactly everything. Nevermind that your neighbor has a swimming pool and has given you an open invitation to come swim anytime--you too must spend 70K to acquire your own pool! No one wants to share or be forced to interact with others on any level for any reason. Need I point out that this is not sustainable behavior for the human race?
My daughter likes to swing, so my sister-in-law thinks that we need a swing, like yesterday. She's currently trying to foist off her old rusty backyard swing on us so that we can use it as some sort of frame for the Jerry-rigged baby swing that she thinks we need to build so our child isn't deprived of swinging for one minute. My SIL is of the mindset that if your kid loves it, you absolutely MUST have one of your own. First of all, I don't think we need to buy or reverse-engineer a swing just because our daughter enjoys swinging. I never had a swingset as a child and I never felt deprived! However we have seen my SIL's theory in practice as her own kids have grown up. They once had a giant blow-up bouncy castle that filled an entire room, and now, they have a giant blow-up outdoor water slide with its own electric air blower (cost: $400). She keeps saying that it will be ours next year because her kids will have reached the weight limits on it. How do you tell someone that you don't WANT their giant yard toy/monstrosity?? It would easily take up half my yard. I do kind of need to live in my own house, thank you very much. I already know that our refusal of this 'gift' will end with, 'but you can store it deflated in your already-filled garage until such time as you move and have a yard big enough.' Or, my translation: Just take our shit and shut up!
Kid toys really exemplify what I believe is the fundamental oxymoronic point I want to make about plastic products: they are something that people are willing to pay top-dollar for when new, but since plastic goods quickly become devalued, there is potentially a ton of plastic kid crap lurking around in landfills. But instead of stemming the tide of plastic waste through our own power as consumers, our consumer culture is so screwed up that it thinks, why would you get that used plastic playhouse when you could buy your kid a brand-new one for $150? Plus, don't your kids deserve a new one, as if used things are automatically worthless because they can't convey value the way brand-new items can. Everything in our consumer culture is all about the honorifics of being able to pay for something, no matter how senseless it is, and the ostensible guilt that comes from not being able to afford lots of new things. I call bullshit. I want my kid to have toys, I want to save money, AND be cognizant of the plastic I bring into the world. We got a playhouse for $15, and a kitchen set for $10. Both are in fantastic condition. When it comes time to dispose of these items years from now, we will donate them. So there.
As a culture, we simultaneously desire and abhor cheap goods. People like to save money; I would argue that we also need to be aware of expending less plastic into the world. But it's much easier/efficient/satisfying to shop for new things in a store than it is to hit garage sales or consignment sales, even though you can get the same items for a fraction of the cost if you put in a little effort. It is precisely because all plastic becomes devalued at some point (either at point of sale because the item is 'cheap' or later on because an item is worn out) that we should be more mindful about what we purchase; the more new stuff we buy, the more we corroborate the creation of wasteful plastic. Parents should know that there is a large pile of perfectly nice, used kid toys out there; I just hope they're partaking of them when they can.
Friday, April 12, 2013
The Daily 'Dislike'
Things that happen in real life often piss me off, and I am not one to mince words--but often I feel constrained--by my job, politeness, relatedness, what have you--from expressing my true thoughts about these things, so I create rants in my head that (to me) sound like the rants of a stand-up comic (or a crazy person--fine line there). So I'm going to start recording them here. For my own sanity. Here goes.
Facebook
1.
2.
How about when people post something clever/humorous on Facebook, and everyone is all, ‘oh I’m going to steal THAT,’ and they lick the screen because they can't like it enough. And then they re-post it and people compliment them like they wrote the fucking thing. I posted an article on FB this week and one of my work ‘friends’ asked me in person if he could re-post it on LinkedIn. My response? ‘Uh yeah, sure, dude, I didn’t write it.’ I just want to scream at these people, ‘just because you post something on Facebook doesn’t mean you own it or are in some way due compliments for its content! You know that 'some e-card' you posted last week about drinking wine out of a purse? Yeah you found that shit online, in fact you’re like the 10th person who posted it this week in my feed. So original. Unless you wrote a hilarious status update, you don’t get credit for re-posting something that someone else created. Get over yourself.
3.
Have you noticed that women of a certain mindset loooove posting self-righteous quotations? You know the type--they typically contain some generic feel-good sentiment that falls into one of three major categories: 1. the lobotomized religious quote that reassures the paranoid delusionals that Jesus is everywhere; 2. some passive-aggressive bs about relationships that obviously reveals they've been burned in some way; or 3. being unafraid to be the strong woman you already are but can't be because you're hemmed in by society/yourhusband/yourkids/yourdog.
I say ‘women of a certain mindset’ now instead of 'a certain age' because just when I was formulating my theory that all women over 45 think the point of Facebook is to post asinine shit, I friended someone from my exercise class who just turned 30, and SHE PUTS THEM ALL TO SHAME. These women post the HELL outta that shit, with no apologies. IMO, they are ABUSING the internet and should be blocked from Facebook. Forever. Posting a gagillion quotations is usually a one-way ticket to 'I WILL HIDE YOU'-ville, but lately I've started unhiding these people because I wanted to start analyzing this shit. You know, for educational purposes.
Take a look at a handful of posts from yesterday's feeds:
The editor in me sneers at this one because it could have benefited from a little restraint. The text runs into the people, for chrissakes, and the word 'class' is used twice. I don't think half the people who re-post these someecard gems realize that ANYONE can create their own some-e-card. Thank god.
These hastily-handwritten ones are making the rounds lately. I imagine the author was so inspired that he/she just didn't have time to properly fashion their quote using one of the many sites on the Internet, they only had time to take pen to paper and take a picture with their phone. Such was the nature of their inspiration.
I like how this one is actually credited to someone, to lend it an air of credibility. Here, we have a narrator who is clearly the subject of her own novel, because she thinks by declaring something should be so, it makes it so. And way to foster the stereotype that all women in leadership positions should start as annoying little bitches.
Really?! I am?? Well I'm glad someone noticed, even if it's just me, posting this and then reading it back to myself on Facebook. If this is true, why don't more people choose to be single?
No, the smile on your face means you've either been lobotomized or you're a smug son-of-a-bitch. I'll go with the latter.
Oh I'm not afraid of being myself. What I'm afraid of is this woman getting splinters from humping a broom.
The best for last. One of the commenters on this one actually sums it up the best:
In case you can't read it: "Sociopaths believe and act on these impulses not rational people." A-MEN! So there are some rational people still out there. Good to know.
And if you can read the first few comments above, apparently women fall down and intentionally cut themselves on posts like this so they can share with TOTAL STRANGERS how something bad happened to them once. Well thank GOD you overshared that with me otherwise I would have never known that I hurt your feelings with my random comment, total stranger!
Full circle.
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Rant of the Day: Papal Rage
You know what I'm sick of? People saying shit all over Facebook for the past week about how this new pope might be better, sounds good/promising, whatever blah blah FUCKIN' blah. You know what I desperately want to comment on their shit to shut them up??
Hey there, he's STILL ANTI-GAY, ANTI-ABORTION, ANTI-BIRTH CONTROL muthafuckas, because he's a CATHOLIC POPE for fuck's sake!! What do you expect?? It's a vestigial religion that needs to DIE. It is no longer relevant, even to its current practitioners.
Hey there, he's STILL ANTI-GAY, ANTI-ABORTION, ANTI-BIRTH CONTROL muthafuckas, because he's a CATHOLIC POPE for fuck's sake!! What do you expect?? It's a vestigial religion that needs to DIE. It is no longer relevant, even to its current practitioners.
You know when I'll have hope? When they decide to do away with POPES, that's when.
Ok, I'm done.
Friday, March 8, 2013
How to switch your checking account without (completely) losing your mind
Fed up with your corporate bank? Want to switch banks but
you’re afraid of the hassle? Switching checking accounts doesn’t have to mean a
total disruption of your life. It does
take time though, so allow a good month for the transition. You can learn from
the benefit of my experience below.
If you’re old school and are switching to another brick-and-mortar bank in your hometown because you have a need to talk to actual people, you still may find this helpful.
Before you begin the process:
- If you use online Bill Pay, make a list of all your creditors and other people you pay on a regular basis. Don’t forget people who bill you monthly for something using your credit card—your gym membership, Netflix, Spotify, iTunes, etc—you will need to provide them with a new credit card when it arrives. I was able to take screen shots of all my online pay-to accounts, and I made a list that I could check off after I’d added each one to the online bill pay in my new account.
- Make a note of any checks that haven’t cleared yet (who still writes checks? Oh that's right, middle-aged women and old people).
- Steel yourself. Winter is coming.
- Open the new checking acct with a small deposit to give yourself time to receive checks and debit cards. Most online banks (Ally, ING) offer checking with no minimum balance requirements or fees which will give you time to transition—but you will probably need a small deposit to trigger issuance of debit cards and checks. The answer to the age-old question, 'which comes first, the debit card or the money?' is, the money, duh.
- Keep your directly-deposited paycheck at the old account UNTIL you receive debit cards and checks for the new accounts—you can always change your direct deposits for the next pay cycle, and transfer any monies from the old account if necessary.
- While you’re waiting for the debit cards and checks to arrive, add all of your payees to the new checking account so all of your online bill pay stuff will be set up and ready to use in the new account. Don’t underestimate this step. Collect recent copies of your bills so that you can set up the accounts all over again using their pay-to address. This is probably the most time-consuming part of the entire process. (Oh the agony of convenience!)
- Once you receive debit cards and checks on the new account, switch your direct-deposit paycheck over to the new account. Check with your employer about their direct deposit policies--be aware that when you change a direct deposit account with your employer, it may take 2 pay periods for them to 'adjust'—look, I know it's bs that it takes this long in the electronic age, but that's how it goes. On the upside, they will likely send you a quaint paper check in the interim. Take this time to reminisce about days of yore when you had no bank account and went to the local grocery to cash your paycheck on payday so you could spend it immediately on booze.
- Switch any automatic drafts (that use a credit card) over to the new account before or just after the next due date to make sure it is withdrawn from a funded account. This will likely be a PITA as well--I haven't yet completed this step, but I'm sure my gym will make me fill out a piece of PAPER listing my new credit card information, blood type, and next of kin, and will SAY they will file it but will likely leave it out somewhere where some disgruntled employee can use it to buy Slankets.
- Finally, make sure all checks have cleared and transfer any remaining funds to the new account and, once you’re sure that everything has cleared, close the old checking account (suck it BOA).
Thursday, February 7, 2013
Some thoughts after viewing my Gawker RSS feed
- Are those really bad pictures of Beyonce? Can there be a bad picture of Beyonce? I don’t think so. Suck it up.
- Chris Brown is cursed. And he looks anorexic.
- Lady Gaga: does anyone still give a fuck?
- Monopoly piece: this is news?
- North Korea: why don’t we just seize the motherfuckers already?
Friday, February 1, 2013
Man, I wish I was a celebrity (warning: breastfeeding discussion)
It's not what you think--I have no delusions. Sometimes I wish I were a celebrity so that I could tell people to fucking shut UP already.
Apparently some woman named Kristen Cavallari (who is famous despite the fact that I've never heard of her) was quoted in an article saying that she stopped breastfeeding because she felt like a slave to the pump, and some lactivists got their knickers in a twist over it, calling her a bad mother, saying that she's selfishly denied bonding to her kid, yadda yadda.
Hello people, she did breastfeed for 6 months, and that's good, right? Well apparently it's not good enough. I am so sick to death of breastfeeding fascists who do not shrink from pointing out how you've failed your child by not breastfeeding them as long as humanly possible. These people are just as bad, IMHO, as people who want to ban abortions and whatnot--both are consumed with telling women what to do based on their idea of what is "right" instead of respectfully letting nature take its course.
On the other side, I've heard the view expressed that breastfeeding is the socio-politico-industrial complex's (aka "The Man's") way of keeping women tied to the home instead of to their careers. No, I'm not making this up. This was someone I know's overarching justification for NOT breastfeeding.
What do we learn from this? That's right, there's paranoids on both sides! I don't want to use the 'F' word, but it seems to me that in order to get beyond so-called feminism, we need to stop telling women what to do. And in particular, women need to stop being so nasty to one another.
I did love breastfeeding, and am proud that I was able to do it for 7 months. But I will not lie--I was relieved when it was finally over. Breastfeeding is freakin' hard work. Have you seen a dog wean her puppies? She literally runs away from them, repeatedly, in an effort to get them to stop sucking on her already.
While it is awesome to bond with and nourish your baby, once you get past the warm and tingly aspects, it's boring and demands a ton of the mother's time. There, I said it. I remember a short period of not being able to sleep more than a few hours at a time because the baby had to eat...and I was the only one able to feed her. Sleeping with my baby wasn't in the cards for me because of my c-section (couldn't get upstairs to our bed so I slept on the couch next to bassinet), and I don't think I would have rested well anyway.
I would go so far as to say that breastfeeding was the single hardest thing I've ever done, because it required commitment, attention, energy, consistency, and time. Which means, there were sacrifices made by me for sure--but I made the choice to breastfeed and I stuck to it. In the beginning I pumped so much extra that my husband was able to give her bottles at night, which gave me a much-needed break. Towards the end, I pumped in the office for a while, but when it seemed baby wasn't getting enough, I started supplementing with formula, and it was over shortly after that. I would do it again in a heartbeat for the next baby, for sure, but would try to enjoy it more and not stress as much about prolonging it. And I would definitely invest in a better pump.
Like so many things, you just don't realize how much demand breastfeeding places on you until you're done with it. As mothers in the 21st century, are we still expected to give every ounce of ourselves over to our babies? I say, that's every mother's call to make for themselves. Whole generations of babies weren't breastfed and breastfeeding nearly died out because of it--and yet society survived. The reality is, we aren't hunter-gatherers anymore, able to strap our babies to our teats for hours on end, we have jobs and responsibilities, and no one needs to martyr themselves or pat themselves on the back for being 'superior' because they were able to do something that not everyone can.
Instead of these stupid arguments that pit mothers against one another, as women we should be encouraging an environment in which women feel free to do things as they see fit, without harsh, self-aggrandizing judgments by other women.
Apparently some woman named Kristen Cavallari (who is famous despite the fact that I've never heard of her) was quoted in an article saying that she stopped breastfeeding because she felt like a slave to the pump, and some lactivists got their knickers in a twist over it, calling her a bad mother, saying that she's selfishly denied bonding to her kid, yadda yadda.
Hello people, she did breastfeed for 6 months, and that's good, right? Well apparently it's not good enough. I am so sick to death of breastfeeding fascists who do not shrink from pointing out how you've failed your child by not breastfeeding them as long as humanly possible. These people are just as bad, IMHO, as people who want to ban abortions and whatnot--both are consumed with telling women what to do based on their idea of what is "right" instead of respectfully letting nature take its course.
On the other side, I've heard the view expressed that breastfeeding is the socio-politico-industrial complex's (aka "The Man's") way of keeping women tied to the home instead of to their careers. No, I'm not making this up. This was someone I know's overarching justification for NOT breastfeeding.
What do we learn from this? That's right, there's paranoids on both sides! I don't want to use the 'F' word, but it seems to me that in order to get beyond so-called feminism, we need to stop telling women what to do. And in particular, women need to stop being so nasty to one another.
I did love breastfeeding, and am proud that I was able to do it for 7 months. But I will not lie--I was relieved when it was finally over. Breastfeeding is freakin' hard work. Have you seen a dog wean her puppies? She literally runs away from them, repeatedly, in an effort to get them to stop sucking on her already.
While it is awesome to bond with and nourish your baby, once you get past the warm and tingly aspects, it's boring and demands a ton of the mother's time. There, I said it. I remember a short period of not being able to sleep more than a few hours at a time because the baby had to eat...and I was the only one able to feed her. Sleeping with my baby wasn't in the cards for me because of my c-section (couldn't get upstairs to our bed so I slept on the couch next to bassinet), and I don't think I would have rested well anyway.
I would go so far as to say that breastfeeding was the single hardest thing I've ever done, because it required commitment, attention, energy, consistency, and time. Which means, there were sacrifices made by me for sure--but I made the choice to breastfeed and I stuck to it. In the beginning I pumped so much extra that my husband was able to give her bottles at night, which gave me a much-needed break. Towards the end, I pumped in the office for a while, but when it seemed baby wasn't getting enough, I started supplementing with formula, and it was over shortly after that. I would do it again in a heartbeat for the next baby, for sure, but would try to enjoy it more and not stress as much about prolonging it. And I would definitely invest in a better pump.
Like so many things, you just don't realize how much demand breastfeeding places on you until you're done with it. As mothers in the 21st century, are we still expected to give every ounce of ourselves over to our babies? I say, that's every mother's call to make for themselves. Whole generations of babies weren't breastfed and breastfeeding nearly died out because of it--and yet society survived. The reality is, we aren't hunter-gatherers anymore, able to strap our babies to our teats for hours on end, we have jobs and responsibilities, and no one needs to martyr themselves or pat themselves on the back for being 'superior' because they were able to do something that not everyone can.
Instead of these stupid arguments that pit mothers against one another, as women we should be encouraging an environment in which women feel free to do things as they see fit, without harsh, self-aggrandizing judgments by other women.
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