I must actually be an adult now.
Today, I was called as a job reference. Not a personal reference for a friend, but as the supervisor for one of my interns last summer. Now, I still feel bad about my interns -- I had two, and they were both great, but I don't know that I was the most helpful, most teacherly advisor out there. I had only planned on having one, but we had a volunteer, a woman who needed this internship to finish her degree. So we took her, too, but had to make up a project last minute.
And she's now applied for my old job. Odd world in which we live.
23 April 2008
17 April 2008
Right.
Now generally, I lean to the left. On a few things, I walk safely in the middle of the road. But today, all is just right.
There are things going on in the world that are not right. I have friends going through things that, while it may be the natural order of the world, are heartbreaking and horrific.
Despite all of that, in the only sphere where I have control -- not small amounts of influence, but control -- my inner world, things are right. Life is good. Today's weather encapsulates the right -- it was sunny, 71, slightly breezy, and overall gorgeous. I walked at lunch with my coworkers. Got my postal service "situation" sorted out. Bought new walking shoes so that I can do more of that walking without the blister I got today. I like my co-workers, like my work, like my new town. It was a bad hair day, but really, everything can't be perfect!
The overall move has been good. The details have been a royal pain in the ass, but I needed this.
There are things going on in the world that are not right. I have friends going through things that, while it may be the natural order of the world, are heartbreaking and horrific.
Despite all of that, in the only sphere where I have control -- not small amounts of influence, but control -- my inner world, things are right. Life is good. Today's weather encapsulates the right -- it was sunny, 71, slightly breezy, and overall gorgeous. I walked at lunch with my coworkers. Got my postal service "situation" sorted out. Bought new walking shoes so that I can do more of that walking without the blister I got today. I like my co-workers, like my work, like my new town. It was a bad hair day, but really, everything can't be perfect!
The overall move has been good. The details have been a royal pain in the ass, but I needed this.
13 April 2008
Tired
Hmmm. I think this is a theme.
I have finished two weeks of work, my first state-wide conference (just as an attendant, not as a presenter), and the majority of the unpacking. There are 6 rooms in my apartment. There are boxes still in three of them. One room has been designated the disaster for now -- so much so that I've closed the door a few days so I could pretend it wasn't there. But the important stuff -- underwear, jeans, tea kettle, towels, books -- is all unpacked. There's a peace of mind in that.
I wish I were a supremely organised person, but I am not. I collect bits and bobs that I find amusing or meaningful, and that adds up to lots of odd things crammed in the corners of drawers. I find many of them only when I move or have lost something else, but they make me smile, and therefore they end up back at the back of a drawer somewhere. I'm finding tons of these bits these days, and am alternately amused and annoyed at them. They do not have places, and I do like it when things have places.
All of which to say that, on my one day off this week, I unpacked and organised -- or attempted to. I hung some pictures. I stacked more empty boxes. I actually baked -- bread and cupcakes, the latter a new-to-me recipe for maple cupcakes, as it is maple season. They are good, and I will share with my new co-workers. Baking makes this place feel more like home.
There is one vexing problem still with this apartment. I can sometimes smell cigarette smoke. It's not coming from outside, and it isn't coming from any logical source. I have to assume my downstairs neighbors smoke, which is their prerogative, but why can I smell it only in the very center of my apartment? I've gone around like a completely insane dork sniffing at cracks, trying to figure out where it is coming into my space, and I've yet to find it. I have duct taped the wall openings around the pipes in the bathroom and kitchen, since the wall shared by those two seems to be where the smell comes from, but that didn't quite do it. It's driving me slowly insane.
On the other hand, my downstairs neighbors do seem nice. I chatted with one of the guys and his girlfriend yesterday, and met the two kids that visit on weekends. It's him and his brother, I guess, and they are both weekend dads. The girls are the same age, but one of them is a good foot taller than the other. I wonder if it will stay that way?
All that said, I am absoultely exhausted from this whole life situation -- moving, leaving, new job, etc. I'm sleeping extra hours, and still feel somewhat drained. I know a bit of exercise -- a nice walk, even -- would help, but I can't right now summon the energy. I'm going to check out a free yoga class Tuesday night, though, I think, and maybe that will be the kickstart I need to build a new life here outside of work. A new Monday awaits.
I have finished two weeks of work, my first state-wide conference (just as an attendant, not as a presenter), and the majority of the unpacking. There are 6 rooms in my apartment. There are boxes still in three of them. One room has been designated the disaster for now -- so much so that I've closed the door a few days so I could pretend it wasn't there. But the important stuff -- underwear, jeans, tea kettle, towels, books -- is all unpacked. There's a peace of mind in that.
I wish I were a supremely organised person, but I am not. I collect bits and bobs that I find amusing or meaningful, and that adds up to lots of odd things crammed in the corners of drawers. I find many of them only when I move or have lost something else, but they make me smile, and therefore they end up back at the back of a drawer somewhere. I'm finding tons of these bits these days, and am alternately amused and annoyed at them. They do not have places, and I do like it when things have places.
All of which to say that, on my one day off this week, I unpacked and organised -- or attempted to. I hung some pictures. I stacked more empty boxes. I actually baked -- bread and cupcakes, the latter a new-to-me recipe for maple cupcakes, as it is maple season. They are good, and I will share with my new co-workers. Baking makes this place feel more like home.
There is one vexing problem still with this apartment. I can sometimes smell cigarette smoke. It's not coming from outside, and it isn't coming from any logical source. I have to assume my downstairs neighbors smoke, which is their prerogative, but why can I smell it only in the very center of my apartment? I've gone around like a completely insane dork sniffing at cracks, trying to figure out where it is coming into my space, and I've yet to find it. I have duct taped the wall openings around the pipes in the bathroom and kitchen, since the wall shared by those two seems to be where the smell comes from, but that didn't quite do it. It's driving me slowly insane.
On the other hand, my downstairs neighbors do seem nice. I chatted with one of the guys and his girlfriend yesterday, and met the two kids that visit on weekends. It's him and his brother, I guess, and they are both weekend dads. The girls are the same age, but one of them is a good foot taller than the other. I wonder if it will stay that way?
All that said, I am absoultely exhausted from this whole life situation -- moving, leaving, new job, etc. I'm sleeping extra hours, and still feel somewhat drained. I know a bit of exercise -- a nice walk, even -- would help, but I can't right now summon the energy. I'm going to check out a free yoga class Tuesday night, though, I think, and maybe that will be the kickstart I need to build a new life here outside of work. A new Monday awaits.
07 April 2008
alpha. again.
I pulled up my blogger dashboard last night and just stared at it. Didn't know where to start, or what I wanted to say. I decided that I didn't have anything to say, and logged out.
I still don't have much to say. There is so much to process. I am trying to live in the moment, but the way my head is set up, I keep going over the path to this place, this moment, this new life. I've brought me with -- wherever you go, there you are, as Buckaroo Banzai so succinctly put it (ah, Perfect Tommy! Your plaid. It speaks to me.) But I can be new here. I am new here. With even more knowledge of myself, I can try again, from somewhere near scratch, to build my life.
That's the thing -- starting over isn't, and I wouldn't want it to be. I don't want to give up me, and who I am: who I've become, and how I've gotten here.
But I have packed up my life and moved myself to a different region. A different town, different state, different job, different dwelling hole. Same me. Same cats. Same stuff, though slightly less of it.
New. And yet not.
So far, I like the town. I like my co-workers, and I think my job will be interesting. My apartment has its quirks and charms, but is starting to feel like mine. The cats are happy. The library is good, there is a great food co-op, and I know where the knitters meet, even if I haven't joined them. There is a feminist women's clinic, local bookstores, and good Indian food. I can make it work here. I can be happy here.
I still don't have much to say. There is so much to process. I am trying to live in the moment, but the way my head is set up, I keep going over the path to this place, this moment, this new life. I've brought me with -- wherever you go, there you are, as Buckaroo Banzai so succinctly put it (ah, Perfect Tommy! Your plaid. It speaks to me.) But I can be new here. I am new here. With even more knowledge of myself, I can try again, from somewhere near scratch, to build my life.
That's the thing -- starting over isn't, and I wouldn't want it to be. I don't want to give up me, and who I am: who I've become, and how I've gotten here.
But I have packed up my life and moved myself to a different region. A different town, different state, different job, different dwelling hole. Same me. Same cats. Same stuff, though slightly less of it.
New. And yet not.
So far, I like the town. I like my co-workers, and I think my job will be interesting. My apartment has its quirks and charms, but is starting to feel like mine. The cats are happy. The library is good, there is a great food co-op, and I know where the knitters meet, even if I haven't joined them. There is a feminist women's clinic, local bookstores, and good Indian food. I can make it work here. I can be happy here.
13 March 2008
Not enough hours
Not enough hours in the day. Not enough days in the week. Not enough time.
I hate feeling rushed. It's a frequent occurrence, since my snooze button and I have a violent and intimate relationship, but I still hate it.
This week? Is the ultimate in rushed. I had 5 days to pack. 6 if you count Sunday, but let's not. And then Tuesday happened. Plumbing crisis. Medical crisis. And my day was mostly shot, saved by the grace of good friends who brought me the boxes I didn't have time to go and get. And I know that Cooth will be here tomorrow, which means that my kitchen will get packed okay.
The hardest thing about leaving is that people tell you how much they are going to miss you and you begin to regret every time you didn't go and do something fun. I even had a neighbor that I know professionally stop by to chat. She said she always meant to suggest getting together, as she thought we had a lot in common. I thought the same things, but it never happened. Sad, the opportunities you've missed out on. It reminds me to work harder to see and engage in those in the future, but I know reality is that I am who I am, and that includes occasionally disappearing into the cave of my house for long periods of time, emerging only for food and work.
I hate saying good-bye, especially knowing that in some cases, it is reasonably permanent. There are people here I do know that I will keep in touch with. Others I know I shall likely never hear from again.
I know. I am getting maudlin and repetitive. It's a coping mechanism, keeping me from dealing with the USPS, the billion address changes, the real estate paperwork, the packing of fragile things, the apartment search I intended to start by phone but, well, didn't. It will all shake out somehow, as it always does. And I know I have friends to fall back on in a crisis, but they will be far away very soon.
I hate feeling rushed. It's a frequent occurrence, since my snooze button and I have a violent and intimate relationship, but I still hate it.
This week? Is the ultimate in rushed. I had 5 days to pack. 6 if you count Sunday, but let's not. And then Tuesday happened. Plumbing crisis. Medical crisis. And my day was mostly shot, saved by the grace of good friends who brought me the boxes I didn't have time to go and get. And I know that Cooth will be here tomorrow, which means that my kitchen will get packed okay.
The hardest thing about leaving is that people tell you how much they are going to miss you and you begin to regret every time you didn't go and do something fun. I even had a neighbor that I know professionally stop by to chat. She said she always meant to suggest getting together, as she thought we had a lot in common. I thought the same things, but it never happened. Sad, the opportunities you've missed out on. It reminds me to work harder to see and engage in those in the future, but I know reality is that I am who I am, and that includes occasionally disappearing into the cave of my house for long periods of time, emerging only for food and work.
I hate saying good-bye, especially knowing that in some cases, it is reasonably permanent. There are people here I do know that I will keep in touch with. Others I know I shall likely never hear from again.
I know. I am getting maudlin and repetitive. It's a coping mechanism, keeping me from dealing with the USPS, the billion address changes, the real estate paperwork, the packing of fragile things, the apartment search I intended to start by phone but, well, didn't. It will all shake out somehow, as it always does. And I know I have friends to fall back on in a crisis, but they will be far away very soon.
08 March 2008
Parade of Good-bye.
I am a good public speaker. I have been a "dignity"* in countless small towns in this large, sparsely populated state. I've taught classes and review sections. I've presented awards. I've lectured (when asked -- not just the spontaneous kind that make people wonder why they hang out with me. NERD!). And I did theatre in my schools from 7th grade through college graduation (not well, but I did it).
But I am uncomfortable being the center of attention when it's actually about me, not about a building or a town or a history. And I have been. Yesterday was my very last day of work here. There was a party with cake. My boss gave a rousing** thank you speech expressing gratitude for the years of dedicated work. Her boss, our director, also spoke a bit. I was expected to speak. Yikes. I said something probably trite, hopefully grammatically correct*** and completely unmemorable. And my co-workers deserved something better.
The people I work with at the bastard child agency in our state are one of the oddest, coolest, nerdiest**** bunch of people I ever hope to meet. No one is there for the fame or fortune, as there is little of either to be had. You do not end up in the various history professions out of a desire to drive a new BMW. These people could write a new version of Trivial Pursuit, and I assure you that this is a compliment. While there are a good handful that I will not miss, and others that I won't think about much, many of them are people I will miss running into in the hallways, bathroom, staff lounge, and out in the community. I will miss the wit, the dripping sarcasm, the ability to bitch eloquently, the esoteric knowledge. And while I know I can use e-mail to ask for any of the above, the chance encounters will now be lost to me.
I will meet new people. I'm sure they will be odd and sarcastic and dedicated in their own proportions. But they will not replace this unique mix of personalities. Auf wiedersehen, folks. I will miss you.
If the powers-that-be were kind, I would have been this connected with the emotions of leaving yesterday. But then, honestly, I might have been booed for the sheer verbosity, as me and my mouth were standing between them and cake. And while fame and fortune may not be evident, we are there for the food.
*At one such event, the nervous community member introducing me and Cooth, who had tagged along for the ride and potluck picnic, called us "dignities" instead of "dignitaries," as I assume he intended. I am not poking fun at him, but instead at my own general disregard for dignity.
**Yes, I'm being a sarcastic Bitch. To be honest, the little speech was nicer than I'd expected.
***One of my odder co-workers once complemented my on my grammar. Yes, you read that correctly -- on my grammar. Despite not setting much store by this person's opinions about me, I do quite treasure that compliment.
****I used "nerd" as a slightly derogatory, but mostly sarcastically ribbing kind of way. I consider myself one.
But I am uncomfortable being the center of attention when it's actually about me, not about a building or a town or a history. And I have been. Yesterday was my very last day of work here. There was a party with cake. My boss gave a rousing** thank you speech expressing gratitude for the years of dedicated work. Her boss, our director, also spoke a bit. I was expected to speak. Yikes. I said something probably trite, hopefully grammatically correct*** and completely unmemorable. And my co-workers deserved something better.
The people I work with at the bastard child agency in our state are one of the oddest, coolest, nerdiest**** bunch of people I ever hope to meet. No one is there for the fame or fortune, as there is little of either to be had. You do not end up in the various history professions out of a desire to drive a new BMW. These people could write a new version of Trivial Pursuit, and I assure you that this is a compliment. While there are a good handful that I will not miss, and others that I won't think about much, many of them are people I will miss running into in the hallways, bathroom, staff lounge, and out in the community. I will miss the wit, the dripping sarcasm, the ability to bitch eloquently, the esoteric knowledge. And while I know I can use e-mail to ask for any of the above, the chance encounters will now be lost to me.
I will meet new people. I'm sure they will be odd and sarcastic and dedicated in their own proportions. But they will not replace this unique mix of personalities. Auf wiedersehen, folks. I will miss you.
If the powers-that-be were kind, I would have been this connected with the emotions of leaving yesterday. But then, honestly, I might have been booed for the sheer verbosity, as me and my mouth were standing between them and cake. And while fame and fortune may not be evident, we are there for the food.
*At one such event, the nervous community member introducing me and Cooth, who had tagged along for the ride and potluck picnic, called us "dignities" instead of "dignitaries," as I assume he intended. I am not poking fun at him, but instead at my own general disregard for dignity.
**Yes, I'm being a sarcastic Bitch. To be honest, the little speech was nicer than I'd expected.
***One of my odder co-workers once complemented my on my grammar. Yes, you read that correctly -- on my grammar. Despite not setting much store by this person's opinions about me, I do quite treasure that compliment.
****I used "nerd" as a slightly derogatory, but mostly sarcastically ribbing kind of way. I consider myself one.
06 March 2008
multi-tasking and coping
So, am I being redundant yet with the whole "OM(iDOC) moving is SO hard and complicated" thing? Yeah, probably. Thought so.
So today I dealt with the house sale, cleaning out my office, giving things away, packing up my stuff in the office. I have 2.5 boxes worth of books there, and another full box of random crap. And doing that was a pain, so I'm guessing it will only get worse when I finally really start packing in earnest.
But I did go on a box run. I love places that have box corrals. It's so easy and convenient. Thank you, businesses who do that. It's community outreach and recycling. I love you all. (And Cooth for bringing me a wealth of kind of creepy McD0na1ds boxes yesterday -- *mwah*). I have a feeling that this is going to be my pattern next week -- get up, shower, box run and get food, come home and pack, repeat as necessary. Yea.
I have new listening, though! Have you all heard of NPR's newest New York-based show The Bryant Park Project? I found it today when looking for the end of a story I'd heard part of yesterday. So far? Love. I was flipping through the NPR stories looking for something that would be fun to listen to while cleaning out files (because, really, no one needs to inherit my phone logs for the past 5 years) and came across one on TEAL -- the Typo Eradication Advancement League. I am so behind Jeff's cause. There's a blog, too -- www.jeffdeck.com/teal -- and I will be following the journey for the promotion of grammatically correct public communications.
Check out the BPP, and check out Jeff Deck.
I'm off on the farewell tour the next few days, so I won't have time to cry and complain about the whole moving thing -- although I may cry a bit at the leaving. I'm an easy cry. Waterproof mascara is probably on the makeup schedule for the next few days.
So today I dealt with the house sale, cleaning out my office, giving things away, packing up my stuff in the office. I have 2.5 boxes worth of books there, and another full box of random crap. And doing that was a pain, so I'm guessing it will only get worse when I finally really start packing in earnest.
But I did go on a box run. I love places that have box corrals. It's so easy and convenient. Thank you, businesses who do that. It's community outreach and recycling. I love you all. (And Cooth for bringing me a wealth of kind of creepy McD0na1ds boxes yesterday -- *mwah*). I have a feeling that this is going to be my pattern next week -- get up, shower, box run and get food, come home and pack, repeat as necessary. Yea.
I have new listening, though! Have you all heard of NPR's newest New York-based show The Bryant Park Project? I found it today when looking for the end of a story I'd heard part of yesterday. So far? Love. I was flipping through the NPR stories looking for something that would be fun to listen to while cleaning out files (because, really, no one needs to inherit my phone logs for the past 5 years) and came across one on TEAL -- the Typo Eradication Advancement League. I am so behind Jeff's cause. There's a blog, too -- www.jeffdeck.com/teal -- and I will be following the journey for the promotion of grammatically correct public communications.
Check out the BPP, and check out Jeff Deck.
I'm off on the farewell tour the next few days, so I won't have time to cry and complain about the whole moving thing -- although I may cry a bit at the leaving. I'm an easy cry. Waterproof mascara is probably on the makeup schedule for the next few days.
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