Hello, 2011!

I am still putting the Christmas stuff away, but 2011 now feels like it has started. I went to Professional Development at work today and I'll start teaching my classes next Tuesday. I'm going to start taking a German class on Saturday, and I might stick around campus for open swim and a free yoga class.

2010 started off so strangely with life-threatening illnesses of family members who are now OK, thank God. I also lost it a little myself, not having come back completely from the hysterectomy at the time, but I now feel like myself again. 2010 ended wonderfully, for the most part, with my graduation from library school (I now have an MLIS, woo-hoo!) and my sister's wedding (first marriage at the age of 62...there is quite a story there and I wish it were mine to tell, but alas, it is not, at least not here.)

I am thinking about possibly going to Germany again, but I spent a night away at my mom's this past weekend (helping her move) and I got so incredibly homesick that I don't know if I really want to go unless I can persuade my hubby to go too. We do plan to take a special trip to celebrate our 30th anniversary later this year, so there is that.

Onward and upward.

In Defense of My Time (and Occasional Money) Spent in the Villes of Yo, Farm, and Frontier

I just responded to an NPR post on Facebook asking if people had ever spent real-world money on virtual games such as Farmville. I responded that I had purchased an occasional game card to furnish a house or finish a building and that I would probably buy a few cards as stocking stuffers for relatives who play. I then read comments that ranged from people who had no problem shelling out cash to people like me to others who think these games are a waste of time and money.

I spend money on many forms of entertainment, as do most people, I think--movies, cable TV, spending time with friends in coffee shops, pubs, restaurants, and as I pointed out, occasional gambling on special occasions (spring break trips to Las Vegas, anniversary trips, etc.) I also spend as much time as possible trying to enjoy myself (I don't think that is a bad thing), and I find these games pleasurable. Many commenters said that most of us spend money on various forms of entertainment.

Then there were the "purist" gamers saying these are not really games because all one does is click, click, click, I have heard previous comments such as this that these are Pavlovian, rat in a maze, exploitive games.

Well, here is my joy in playing: I like shopping and acquiring things, but this becomes a problem of money and space in the real world. Playing these games gives me the pleasure of acquisition without a pile of real stuff to have to deal with. I also feel joy similar to that when I was a child and would spend many happy hours playing house, school, and Barbies. For my friend Debbie and me, the fun of Barbies was in creating houses from toys we had as well as empty tissue boxes and other found materials. We would also create stories for our dolls. These having been different times, we would explain our lack of male dolls by saying our dolls' husbands were in VietNam (as her brothers had been.) We would stuff Little Kiddle dolls under their dresses and say they were pregnant. (Again, these being different times, we did not understand that this was problematic with the absent "husbands.")

I like playing with the Yo girl as she furnishes her rooms, the little farmer as she plants various crops and furnishes and decorates the farm, and my Frontier lady who is so much stronger than I as she chops down trees and tames the wilderness (and I actually begin to see the joy some family members of mine have from real-world "settling" of their lake property, though I would not enjoy this (having been an "indoor kid who reads"--thanks, Daniel Tosh. :-))

There were also people who say those of us who play should get out and meet people in the "real world." I have actually been able to have conversations with strangers in the real world based on playing these games...and I have actually established further relationships with people (mom of son's ex-girlfriend who has become a friend...we have even been on vacation together despite living in different states...granted, most were turn-taking word games as opposed to "Ville" games, but still...).

Then finally there was at least one commenter who said she is not judgmental about the games, but wants to know how to get them off her wall. It is not difficult at all to hide and block these games without blocking the friend.

Therefore, I shall continue to play these games until I am bored with them, and I will even probably occasionally spend small amounts of real-world cash.

Hacking Higher Education

Hacking Higher Education

This is really good stuff. This is from Maria, the lady who helped me down the top of the mountain when I panicked. Even though I'm not a "math person", I love this blog. Lots of good stuff here about teaching and learning.

Summer Stuff

So I'm sure, dear reader (do I have a reader?), you have been asking yourself, what has this blogger been up to since last she wrote in February?

I did indeed get my medical withdrawal, but I will be seeing my advisor later thisa week to see if please, dear God, I can take a different class from the one that has flummoxed me for so long. I will then get on a waiting list for fall, or if need be, take it in the winter.

Sad to report, none of the hoped-for graduations from Master's programs have (yet) taken place. I did, however, take my long-coveted trip to Germany! It was wonderful, and I did go on that Swiss Alps trip (riding the gondola most of the way, and taking a bit of a hike after that. I needed to be helped down by a traveling companion after a bit of a panic. Fortunately, she happens to be a former Girl Scout guide who used to live and hike frequently in Montana.)She is also a math instructor. Perhaps I can get her to see me through that source of anxiety as well.

Through a strange sequence of events, I was functioning as something of an exchange student. I stayed with a truly lovely young woman (a bit younger than my son) named Astrid while her parents were away. I was worried she would be very disappointed to be stuck with one of the old folks, but she could not have been kinder or more gracious. In fact, she stayed with me when it was time for the German group to come here. That was also a lot of fun. I had a potluck at my house and went to many of the outings.

There have been some high school graduations and we have a new baby in the family. (For better or worse, the parents of the new baby were two of the graduates.) The baby is beyond adorable and I am looking forward to my first opportunity to babysit.

It has been fun to watch the kids prepare their college plans (fortunately, they all have them, including baby mama and baby daddy.) It has also been fun (and fattening) to go to open houses, etc.

I also went to my first gay bar (technically, gay-friendly bar) and saw my first drag show that was not part of a bigger performance (Cher, Cirque du Soleil, etc.). I have a relative who was celebrating a significant birthday and he has won categories in some recent pageants in this milieu. I learnrd there is something of an etiquette for these performances and also learned this seems to be a friendly, intimate neighborhood type of bar that has Monday night Bingo--who would have thought that to find the smoke-free bingo I have sought lo, these many years, I would need to stop going to the churches and frequent a gay bar?

I have not talked to my relative about this yet and don't know if I will, but I have reservations about drag performances. I don't really understand how they are that much different (except for historical issues, subtleties, etc.) from blackface. There is an exaggeration of sexuality as if that is all there is to being a woman. The performers are not emulating someone like Marie Curie or Mother Teresa or Margaret Mead, but some weird idea of what being a woman is. They dance and lip-synch and the emcee jokes (in a rather hostile way, my friend and I thought) about various aspects of being a woman.

Yet I can't say I didn't have fun. My experiences in this past year have made me think (as I always have, but more so this year) about what being a woman is/means. I know it is not what they are putting out there, but maybe that's not their intent. Is it sympathetic? Is it hostile? Is it a wish? I think it's definitely a misunderstanding.

However, I was very happy for my relative when it was announced as a birthday surprise that he would be third "House Diva" meaning he will perform the first Wednesday of every month and another one of his choice. I will go see him (and the others) again because damn, it was fun.

Time Out

Well, so, long story short, this time I didn't drop the tech class, I withdrew. I'm working on getting a medical withdrawal, per the advice of my advisor. I'm not feeling particularly good about it, but there has just been an unusual confluence of events over the past year and I think my body, mind, and spirit just need recharging (and perhaps a bit of medicating). I always wondered about people who would do this kind of thing when they were ONE CLASS away from graduating, but now I guess I kind of get it.

The good thing is I'm feeling more enthusiastic about my job. I think one of the hard things was going back in January for the first time since last September. While I had the practicum in the late fall, there was lots of flexibility there. Resuming work again at the same time this class began and then having two family health crises in January was a bit much...and as these things go, they didn't play out the way I thought they would. The one I thought was the most immediately serious seems relatively resolved, and the one I thought there was time on before it created problems started being difficult right away.

I think there was also the matter of the changes at work. While those started in the summer and became more pronounced in the fall, I really didn't have time to acclimate to a lot of things before I was out for a few months. Now that I can concentrate on just my job, I'm starting to feel more comfortable in my surroundings.

I will finish this, though, because I really want it. I will use this time to develop and work a strategy for getting this done. I also need to think about strategies for handling challenges that seem to come suddenly from several different aspects of life. I also need to maintain my optimism in what seem like not very good times. Luckily, my husband is pretty good at offering perspective. It's nice to have someone who has been through a few existential crises of his own to see me through mine.

My Sad and Desperate Reflection

Strangely, I'm hoping this helps. If I can dump all this negativity onto the page, perhaps I can overcome the mental block I'm currently experiencing. I've already done 20 minutes on the elliptical trainer, had a good cry (scared the dog), had a rousing chase and play session with the dog, and I still feel stupid and useless and I don't know what to do.

I have a horrible class that until recently, I've been calling the Scary Tech Class. I decided that was part of what was giving me a negative attitude about the whole thing and decided I would stop doing that. It is an online web site development class. It uses a combination of a book which uses Notepad and a bit of deprecated code which we are not to use. It has a software program which, until this semester, I have been unable to download and install on my computer. (Was finally able to do it on my husband's new desktop, necessitated by the big Hard Drive Crash of '09. Long story.) We have the new version of the Web development software, but the training DVDs are geared to the previous version. (I have dropped the class twice before. Once for not such great reasons and the second time because I had to have my (oft-discussed on this blog) surgery.

There are two projects a week and last week, I thought I got at least one of them, but the professor sent back a bunch of corrections. I made a couple, but I'm not comprehending a couple of them. For people who know this stuff, it's not that complicated and would be embarrassing if anyone who knows what's going on saw what the problem was. I ended up getting 0 credit last week even though I worked hard. Now I am probably going to get 0 credit this week too. This means that if I do everything else perfectly (not likely) the best I can end up with is a B.

This is the last class I need to get my Master's. I have been at this for three years. I have established a very nice GPA--not perfect--but something I'm pleased and proud of. I feel I genuinely worked for it, and now this class might keep me from graduating. When I shared a few family and personal problems (primarily health-related) that are going on right now, the professor suggested I might want to drop the class and try this or a different tech class in the Spring/Summer. My husband and I both decided against that because of my two previous drops and we both really want me to be done. Today would have been the last day to drop with a full tuition refund (minus the registration fee, as always).

It's not so much the projects themselves, but I have to submit them via these links on the web site and I can't get them right. In addition to the file and folder naming and placing issues I have, it's not helping that on the lecture videos, the professor's screen is somewhat different from mine (Previous version? I'm not sure.) One problem is I'm not sure what "translates." I don't have an intuitive sense of this, and in these situations, even when I think I do, I'm wrong.

Another thing that's getting to me is a few classmates have made their sites available, and while they vary in quality and complexity, they seem to be "getting it" and I will be two weeks behind tomorrow if this situation continues. That is one thing I hate about online classes (even though I like some onlike classes). In a regular class, even if I end up doing well, if I start out slow I can usually meet a kindred spirit befuddled as I am. I have even had this happen when I've had one online class and one face-to-face class. There will usually be someone taking the same classes with whom I can compare war stories. The ones who are getting it are posting, and the ones like me are lying low. Well, of course, I also have little to post. It just feels so lonely.

I'm mad at myself, too, because I had an offer of help this past weekend from someone who has done this for a living, but I thought I could get it myself; I did not. One of the issues is I feel bad imposing on someone's professional skills, and the other was it was just an awkward weekend. It was my son's birthday and we were taking him out, and it was my first chance to visit a relative in the hospital since she had surgery (I was there that day) and she had been moved from the neuro ICU. I tried to contact him tonight but haven't received a message back.

This is not like a writing assignment in which I can dump a bunch of stuff on a page, then organize and revise it. It has to be done just so, and if it isn't, I can't do the rest of it. I'm stuck, stuck, stuck, and I stare at my screen and re-watch the videos and re-read the book chapters and...nothing. I really need to be taught this stuff in person, but all the tech classes in my program are online now.

Well, back to the salt mines. Wish me luck. I sure as hell need it.

I was looking at my last post and feeling a little deja-vu-ish. Again, I now have two seriously ill family members. I am hoping for some graduation and celebration action this spring (me, and just maybe my son.) I want to belatedly celebrate my 50th birthday, and I am actually kind of looking into a possible trip to Germany (except I found out there might be hiking in the Alps involved, and I really don't want to do that. I'm not what you call an outdoor gal. There have, in fact, been threats in the past to expel me from group camping trips.I would not be the first person thrown off Survivor because I would be totally non-threatening, but I would be thrown off soon because I would be the weakest link.)

I have discovered that illness involves a lot of waiting...for news, for information about treatments, for sitting around during treatments and waiting for them to work, and waiting to feel better, and this is definitely a waiting for more news phase. One goes ahead and makes plans then, and proceeds as if nothing is different, but of course always knowing that it is.

So meanwhile, I will try to finish the last class standing between me and my degree, jump through the other hoops involved, keep adjusting to the fact that I can not control the decisions of other adult people (but still try to figure out how I can positively influence them), beg to be able to go to Germany but not be made to hike, and just try to ride the waves as they come. (Not literally, of course. I would drown.)

Things I Did in the First Decade of this Century

Started a new job at which I still work. Went to my stepdad's funeral. Briefly took medicine for anxiety and depression. Went to China, Amsterdam, and St. Petersburg, Russia. Started a blog. Had a big party to celebrate my 25th wedding anniversary. Went to my 30-year high school reunion. Waited as family members had bypass surgery, breast cancer surgery, hip surgery due to a serious auto accident, and chemotherapy. Visited Little Rock and Fayetteville, Arkansas, Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, Austin, Texas and San Diego, California. Fractured a metatarsal; had an endometrial ablation and a hysterectomy. Started graduate school (but delayed finishing until this decade because of the previous items). Saw my son graduate from high school and college and start grad school. Hoping greedily for all good stuff in the next decade.

Back to Reality

It has been six weeks since my surgery, and I will have to return to at least some portions of my real life. Here are some of the things I will miss about recovery:

• Getting dressed whenever I want, if at all
• Watching The Doctors and Everybody Loves Raymond reruns (and really guilty pleasures, the occasional Bewitched or Beverly Hillbillies rerun)
  
• Flowers, cards, gifties like tea, candy, and stuffed animals to hold on my belly, getting taken to lunch (some overlap in attention here in that my birthday occurred during the recovery period)
• Getting asked how I feel all the time
  
• Permission to be self-centered
• Playing with my scrapbook stuff (did not get many actual pages done, but played with my stuff a lot...organizing photos and supplies, cutting out things for future projects)
• Doing silly things like decoupaging wooden tissue boxes

Here are things I won't miss:

• Not being able to play with my dog
• Pain, soreness, discomfort
• The inability to find a comfortable position to sit or sleep
  
• Not being able to watch a comedy special or a funny movie because it hurts too much to laugh
• The Creeping Weepies
  
• Boredom!

So right now I'm in the middle...have not been officially "released" yet, but know I will be soon, and feeling well enough to participate in some, but not all, the stuff of life.

On the Mend

Tuesday will be the five-week mark for my surgery. I'm starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel, but I am so, so, so happy I don't have to return to work right now as many women on my online support group must. I drove for just a short distance Monday night, to the mall, which is very close to my house. In better times (and better weather), I have walked there. I usually don't, though, for shopping, in case I have to carry something back. I met a friend there for coffee/dinner, and we walked around the mall a bit.

Friday I drove my husband to the car repair place to pick up his car, then I stopped at a nearby shopping center and drove myself home. That was a bit more of a challenge because my seatbelt was putting pressure on my incision area, and checking my blind spots was a bit uncomfortable. It was also more exhausting then I thought; when I checked the time in my car, I was surprised I hadn't been shopping much, much longer than I had.

The issues now, then, are discomfort more than pain, a lack of flexibility (I was distressed to discover that what I wanted at JoAnn's was on a bottom shelf and I would not be able to look the items over without help), and a lack of stamina. However, I had about 15 sensation-free minutes this morning in which I forgot I was "Surgery Girl" or "Recovery Girl" as one of the ladies has described it.

I went to a Halloween get-together last night dressed as my interpretation of a Mad Men character, "an unnnamed employee of Sterling-Cooper." Not only did this give me a chance to pay homage to one of my favorite TV shows, but also to wear the silly bouffant wig I found at the costume store. I so admired the puffy hairdos my older sister and her friends wore, but when my time came, straight hair, then Farrah hair and hideous perms were the trend. (I regret to say that I often went the hideous perm route.)

I was proud of not only going to that get-together, but pulling together a costume (of sorts) that involved putting on a wig and false eyelashes and struggling into pantyhose twice (I discovered the first pair had a run). Spending time at a party really helped me to feel more normal, I think.

I will return to my practicum in about a week-and-a-half, I think (I also completed and turned in an online assignment for the practicum seminar this past week). I am preparing items for the project I will do when I get back, and tomorrow I will re-enroll for the scary tech class I have dropped twice (let's hope the third time is indeed a charm.) I'm glad to be slowly returning to real life, but I am especially glad to have the opportunity to take it slowly.

The Gypsy 24-hour Design Challenge Project by Susan Edwards

Please vote for my very talented friend Susan's project so she can win a trip to NYC. She is an amazing scrapbooker and paper crafter, among her many other talents. Voting ends tomorrow, Wednesday, October 28 at 11:59 p.m.

The Gypsy 24-hour Design Challenge Project by Susan Edwards

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Weepy Day

Everything is going on and nothing is going on. There is, of course, my aforementioned surgery, from which I am still recovering. This appears to be "weepy day" in the recovery process. As I also mentioned before, I have a bag of hormone patches, but whenever I have been tempted to use them, I start to wonder whether my issue is a result of the surgery itself, which is a pretty big trauma to one's body, or the new issues created by the surgery, for which the patches are intended.

Complicating that, I just collected a batch of early birthday cards from the mailbox. This will be my 50th birthday, so most of the cards mention that. I am fine with turning 50, but before this surgery came up, I had grand ideas about how I might spend this milestone. One idea was a special trip, maybe to Germany. However, before this surgery came up, I knew I would be enrolled in the scary tech class, so a trip was out. I had a variety of other ideas, but now just getting something like "dressed" is kind of a victory (stretchy high-waisted exercise pants and tops that cover my hips). So now I guess I will be doing next to nothing to mark this milestone.

It's not that I am being ignored. I have been receiving cards. Earlier this week my new phone arrived, a nice new phone I've been asking for. My husband also got a phone. We have been sharing one relatively basic cell phone for years, so this will be nice, especially when I can figure out our plan and how to use the various features on my phone without unintentionally running up a huge bill.

As I started writing this, my husband was in the basement trying to finish a scrapbook cabinet he has been making for me, so that's certainly nice. Then he came up and saw I was upset, and I explained the cards and said, "This is going to be a sucky birthday." To his credit, he said, "Yes, it is."

But then he said he had been thinking it's also kind of an opportunity. Because I will be taking the next session of work off (my recommended recovery period goes well into the session, so I just decided to ask to take it off and make myself available to sub when I feel better), we might be able to take a mini-vacation when I'm feeling up to it.

I feel a lot better now.

(By the way, the other upside is I had an excuse to postpone the scary tech class again, even though I am still doing my practicum. This will delay my graduation one semester, but, hey, i've waited this long to get that degree.)

Hysterectomy

I debated with myself about writing about this, but since this blog is ostensibly about my mid-life victories and trials, it seems appropriate.

A few days ago, I had a Total Abdominal Hysterectomy/Bilateral Salpingo Oopherectomy (TAH/BSO), which basically means that entire diagram/illustration you saw in your high school biology book is gone. (Well, not that diagram/illustration; just my stuff.) Apparently this sends me into surgical menopause. I have a handy-dandy little bag of patches I can use should this start to give me any trouble.

This did not come as a total surprise. (Somewhat) less invasive means of dealing with my issues had been tried. I don't want to go into big details right now, but mostly I agreed with this to make sure I did not have ovarian cancer (I did not, for which I am so thankful.) If you don't know, ovarian cancer remains a difficult cancer to diagnose in its early stages, so even though the possible markers were slight and subtle, I did not want to wait on this. There were other issues (the ones we tried to deal with before) that were increasingly interfering with my life as well, although they never got to the point they have with some other women, who are made quite miserable with these problems.

I feel very positive about having done this. I am aware of the statistics surrounding this surgery...a very high number of American women have this surgery and some people feel too often. However, every woman I talked to felt positive about having done this (some to the point of glee, I think.)

It helps that I'm almost 50, so this was not traumatic in a way it might be for some younger women. When I found out I would be having this surgery, I Googled and found a wonderful Web site called HysterSisters. It gives information and offers an online support group. It is enlightening to see the varieties of hysterectomy and the reasons women have them.

My surgery had to be the old-fashioned kind, with a vertical incision. (I already have a "bikini" scar [yeah, right] from my Cesarean section when my son was born.) However, nowadays there are a lot more options for hysterectomy surgery if you are able to use them.

It was not as bad as I thought it would be. I was kept as pain-free as possible, and my nurses and docs were very attentive. (Everyone appeared to be about 12 years old, though, especially the med student who had been at my surgery and came in to talk to me.) I had a semi-private room which was a tad claustrophobic, but I liked my roomie. She had surgery the day before me, but she was having some issues. The biggest discomfort, then and now, was trying to get in a comfortable position, both because of the surgery and because there are staples in me.

I got to stay in the hospital for two nights, which is just about right. After that, it becomes intolerably noisy and depressing. I got to order my meals from a "room service" menu. My roommate, who was having trouble with food, was always asking me to tell her what I had enjoyed. (Bad: Scrambled eggs; Good: Grilled cheese and tomato soup. The apple spice muffin was not too bad. The salad was mediocre.)

Now my husband is taking amazing care of me, and I am getting very spoiled. I get meals in bed, propped pillows, and pretty much anything I ask for. Nevertheless, I am looking forward to being comfortable (without the aid of medicine) again.

We Will Not Be Who We Were Part 2

As the auto industry reorganizes in my state and elsewhere, other places and pursuits fall with the factories. I am not employed in the auto industry, but my husband was before he retired, as were (and are) many relatives and friends. I am employed at a community college that I was proud of before I was ever an employee there. I am a strong believer in the community college mission: a well-run community college is a great equalizer, giver of second chances, and picker-up of slack in the system. It is also a trainer of first responders.

When I am walking on our pretty little urban campus and I see future EMTs rehearsing emergencies or nursing students discussing their assignments or field work as they stand in a lunch line, I think about how these are the people who might be the ones to save my life if necessary before I ever see a doctor. I took the Legal Assistant program at the college myself and met lots of very sharp people either already involved in law and some who were trying to make their Bachelor’s degrees more marketable. I didn’t see so many of the people who were being trained for a more high-tech auto industry because that was located on a new campus on the other side of town close to the new factory.

I was very proud to be doing what I do as well. It is a bit tricky to discuss one’s current employer in a public forum, but here is why I feel compelled to write about this: I am the kind of person who needs to process losing the old thing before I can commit myself to the new thing…so here’s what happened. Because a community college obviously depends on public funds, and because the economy here has been bad for some time and no one is predicting a quick recovery here, there were a number of job losses (retirements, layoffs, non-replacement of people in vacant positions). Several departments were reorganized or eliminated, including ours.

I was part of a lovely department called International Programs. That eventually merged with our Multicultural Programs, and we had several Study Abroad Programs designed to enhance our curricula and to serve our students (who because of their nature or circumstances are very budget-minded.) We also hosted folks visiting from other countries a few times a year, and one year I got to be a part of that, teaching a little English/American Culture class and hosting a couple visitors. Mostly what I did and do though, is teach English to students who are preparing for academic programs in the United States. Now the department is gone, but I guess I should be thankful that our group was assigned to another department.

We will lose our workspace, which I have since discovered, shared and cramped as it sometimes felt, it was actually quite luxurious compared to other adjunct workspaces. We had places that we sort of adopted that became “ours” (you knew which desk to find someone at on certain days of the week. My de facto deskmate and I are friends, somewhat equally messy and tolerant of each other, and now that will be gone. We will be assigned workspace and work time, and will have a drawer to store our stuff. (After eight years there, I think I will need some serious space at home to store the stuff I have accumulated).

Because our students meet at the same time, many members of our department are close and we do a lot of informal collaboration. Many of us have strong friendships outside of work as well, but seeing each other at work in spite of busy lives at home helped sustain those relationships during big life changes. And I was part of someone’s dream: my original boss (now retired) created this program many years ago, and it was quite remarkable. He is from Korea, and once received a medal from the Emperor of Japan for improving Korean-Japanese relations. I think those of us who worked for him always felt we were part of something very special, like in our own little contributions, we were promoting World Peace or something like that. It was much more to us than a part-time job to help pay the bills.

Now we have been made part of another department. I like our new boss very much, and where we are centered is pleasant enough. Now, though, it feels as if we ESL faculty have no “home.” There is no place to build our little work nest.

And finally, though we will have international students, and they might have more of a chance to interact with domestic students, it seems like there will be fewer opportunities for our domestic students to have international opportunities. There will be a liaison with the nearby university for Study Abroad, but our programs were geared for our students.

I will be positive eventually, and my friends all love what we do and we will make it work. But, as in Part 1, we will not be who we were, and that just feels sad right now.

We Will Not Be Who We Were Part 1 (And yes, there will be a Part 2 this time)

First of all, in the overall scheme of things, I probably have no right to complain. There is still plenty to eat, the bills are getting paid, and there is some money for fun. My community has lost factories and jobs, but has a shiny new one and a still-standing older one. We still produce vehicles that sell here, and will have another model. However, when I start paying for my own vision and dental care, and perhaps mammograms or however the overall insurance aspect plays out, there will be less of that discretionary income, and that’s the point where others start going down with us, I guess.

The hard thing is this: people don’t understand Who We Are, and the media has tried to convey this, but not very well, because they choose mostly folks who fit their Central Casting stereotypes: Clueless High-Level Auto Executive and Salt-of-the Earth Union Family (3 generations), for example. Of course, those folks exist, but there are so many others. An auto plant is like a little city: there are line folks, people who sweep the floors, carpenters, millwrights, plumbers, electricians and various departments such as paint, trim, body, and so on. My husband had various positions throughout his career, starting on the line and ending as a planner and getting to work overseas.

What I learned over the years is all of these are complex operations. I also met a lot of people (or heard about a lot of people and personalities). There are, for instance, college graduates who worked on the line or in skilled trades because the money was good. I have met some very smart, funny, clever people in the industry over the years, and I did not see these people on TV. I have met folks who are passionate about cars (perhaps with an old beloved model in their garage that they love to tinker with) and loved being in the auto industry. I did not see those people, or if they were on TV, certainly not with the frequency and emphasis of the others I mentioned.

What I did like about the three-generation family is what they conveyed-- this is what we do here. Grandpa did it, Dad or Mom did it, and I was hoping to do it too. The majority of people I have known in my life work or are supported directly or indirectly by the auto industry. Even though I have never worked for it (but am fed by it), I consider it part of Who I Am. This is what we do here.

I will certainly admit there were some problems, but stereotypes and prejudices exacerbated some of those problems. When service awards were being won and models were winning awards and receiving high ratings, we weren’t hearing so much about that. Because my stepson was involved in the launch of one of those award-winning vehicles, I am somewhat aware of the blood, sweat and tears that go into making that happen.

I have been reading Barbara Kingsolver’s book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, and found myself astounded to be sympathetic to a passage in which she remembers a college party (“one of those intensely conversational gatherings of the utterly enlightened”) at which people were discussing the “evils of tobacco.” She asked: “What about the tobacco farmers?” (This had been her family’s livelihood) Somebody asked: “Why should I care about tobacco farmers?” I would not have understood at all a year ago, but now I know what she means when she writes:

I’m still struggling to answer that. Yes, I do know people who have died
wishing they had never seen a cigarette. Yes, it’s a plant that causes cancer
after a long line of people (postfarmer) have specifically altered and abused
it. And yes, it takes chemicals to keep blue mold off the crop. And it sends
people to college. It makes house payments, buys shoes, and pays doctor bills.
it allows people to live with their families and shake hands with their neighbors
in one of the greenest, kindest places in all the world.

Now I am the last person on earth who will defend tobacco. However, what she captures in this and subsequent paragraphs is that when we gleefully celebrate the demise of something like tobacco (or logging, or the auto industry or whatever), there are more than evil Snidely Whiplash corporate executives finally getting their comeuppance and the deliverance of their clueless pawns. There is the loss of a way of life, not only financially, but of having a way to think of ourselves and What We Do. And it hurts.

My Unsettling Junior Boomer Kind of Day

First of all, I must explain that I have never identified too much with the Baby Boomer label, even though I was born in the time period that covers. The older members of that demo had the VietNam War to contend with as well as the massive culture shift. By the time I reached my formative teen years and young adulthood, there were just not the same issues. I also graduated from college as a recession was ending and the Senior Boomers already had most of the jobs. However, I have two Senior Boomer siblings and a spouse, which often makes me feel younger than I actually am.

So...my morning started with my radio alarm going off. I had forgotten I had set it to a classic rock station. So I vaguely hear..."first live recording in 1967...during...the Beatles All You Need is Love...with Mick Jagger and Donovan among the members of the chorus..." Blah blah blah, I'm still half asleep. Then I hear something like..."This classic rock moment has been brought to you by the Burcham Hills Retirement Center." Boom! I'm awake, thinking "That's the wrong commercial for this demographic." I used to visit an elderly lady from my churh at Burcham Hills (which also has an assisted living center.) And then I realize, "Oh my gosh. It's not. It's exactly right. My husband is retired."

Then after returning to work after lunch (I had come home to feed the dog and let him out) I heard that Farrah Fawcett had died as I was parking my car. I sat in the car and listened to the story.. As I got out of the car, tears just inexplicably started rolling down my face. I was not a fan of Charlie's Angels...not my kind of thing, plus it was known as a "jiggle" show and I was developing my feminist sensibilities, such as they are, at that time. However, I always thought she was beautiful and had amazing hair even in the magazine shampoo ads in which I first noticed her (pre-Angels.) I also thought she did great work in The Burning Bed, which I paid special attention to because it involved people in a town near where I lived at that point...the case was frequently discussed in the local media. (It was a good movie, but I always wondered why the Michigan people had Texas accents. Most Michigan accents are more like Chicago-lite or Canada-lite or Sarah Palin-lite, depending on the combination of where you live and your parents are from.)

I was thinking about how in my college dorm so many of the young men had that Farrah poster in their rooms. Seriously, it was everywhere. I had to stop in the rest room and collect myself before I went to teach my class; I did not know why this was affecting me so.

And then later as I was reading something on AOL, in the more often than not extremely stupid comments, someone said something about Michael Jackson being dead. I thought it was a Mikey pop-rocks, Wikipedia false info planting kind of thing, then the local news said "TMZ is reporting..." (And I thought "Really? TMZ?") and then finally, Brian Williams was saying it.

I have two Michaels in my memory: Michael, the boy my age with pictures in Tiger Beat magazine who sang with his brothers, then Thriller Michael whose video "world premiere" I watched with my husband and stepkids before I became a mother myself. The much later Michael was definitely disturbing but I always wondered why no one seemed to be helping this clearly troubled man who pretty much had his childhood stolen from him.

I feel sad and old today.

Tad

I don't remember when I started wanting a dog. I know it was some time after my cat died because while I missed my kitty a lot, I sort of enjoyed being pet-free for a while. However,once I started campaigning for a dog, my husband wasn't quite ready. He likes dogs, and had one when he was younger. I had them as well. We tried having two dogs when my son was very young, but neither of those worked out. There was a beagle who liked to run all the time and was always burrowing under the fence and escaping. We sold him. Then there was a German Shepherd, a gift to my son, and he chewed up everything...carpets, remote controls, you name it. When we put him outside he would bark incessantly. I'm sorry to say we "surrendered" him. If we knew now what we knew then, we probably would have been able to work with him effectively.

I think the thing that intensified my wanting a dog and led to my husband's agreeing to it was watching The Dog Whisperer on the National Geographic channel. If you have never seen it, it features a man named Cesar Millan who works with problem dogs. He is amazing with dogs, and has a very compelling story of his own. My husband started to say we could perhaps get a dog once he retired, then as that grew closer, that maybe we should wait until a year after he retired to see what our life was like. Then, this past year, he said we could perhaps get a dog in the spring.

The dog we ended up with was completely different from my fantasy dog. I thought I'd like a little bichon frise that I could pamper and dress in silly dog clothes and let sit on my lap. I was going to buy one of these from a reputable breeder at some point, but I have two friends at work who are dog lovers. One gently and persistently scolded and made me feel incredibly guilty for thinking about buying a dog, encouraging breeding, when so many dogs in shelters needed to be adopted. (She and her husband have had three rescue sheepdogs.) Another friend has a second job at the local Humane Society, and often talked about the little friends she fosters to save them from being euthanized.

I started looking for bichon frises on rescue sites. They were available, but often had some kind of big problem or weren't good with children. I learned though, that Petsmart had an adoption event the first weekend in May (this is a nationwide event that takes place at lots of pet supply stores, shelters, etc.) I had my husband pull in at a Petsmart when we were on the yuppie side of town buying wine, and Tad was the first dog we saw. We played with him for a while and liked him a lot. He was no bichon frise, though. He is a Chesapeake Bay Retriever mix (another part of the mix, being dachsund, we were told). My husband thought we should look around some more, including at the Petsmart on our side of town. I agreed, but couldn't stop thinking about Tad. We looked at other dogs, but I just really felt that Tad was our dog. It almost looked like it wasn't going to happen, but by the next Wednesday, he was home with us.

Happily putting off the inevitable

I decided to drop the Client-Based Website Development class for the summer and take it in the fall instead. Even though I will now have to take it at the same time I'm doing my practicum, I am absolutely convinced I made the correct decision. I will have a much better idea of what to expect (particularly that first week); I have the textbook, so I can preview. I have a set of DVD's which explain the program we were going to use. Even if they change a few things, I will have a chance to familiarize myself with concepts.

One of the things I found intimidating was the amount of work and the speed at which it was expected to be completed. At the same time, there was an expectation stated that we were to do everything possible to find our own solutions (in the lectures, videos, readings, of course) and do some research on our own. It became clear that, for me, this class was going to be a full-time summer job.

I kept looking at my pool as my husband opened it, the neighborhood parks to which I have been taking my new dog Tad (more about him in another post), and some of the lovely days we have been enjoying lately. I decided I had no desire whatsoever to spend my summer chained to my laptop. Summer is short, and even shorter where I live. My job will start up again in a couple weeks, but now I will have some time to enjoy the down time. I can also spend some time to set my life up to accommodate the enormous workload I am anticipating in the fall.

Things that agitate me #1

Perhaps it's because I just got home from vacation last week just to start fighting a nasty cold, but there is much that is on my nerves lately. The first thing is something that has always annoyed me, but is particularly unbearable now. I know it's really silly, and maybe I unknowingly do it myself, but I really hate when people say "Look" in a conversation or when they explain something on TV. It's sexist, I know, but I particularly hate when men do it. It seems needlessly aggressive. I feel like in their heads, they are immediate following it with "moron" or "a#*!ole."I just want to shout back, "No! You Look!" I'm not saying this is sane or anything. It just is.

Another thing is when people (again, especially, but not exclusively, men) gesture with their index finger. I had a student do that to me recently who was challenging me on when I had said something was due. I was willing to concede he might be right, but then all I could see was that finger pointing at me, filling me with white hot rage. Fortunately, I'm pretty-self aware and can keep fairly calm, and just asked him to please not do that. I also think it might be that he is from a culture which, fairly or unfairly, is not considered particularly woman-friendly. However, this student has always been respectful to me, and felt bad that he offended me, and I felt bad I had not waited until after class to say something. I tried to explain in class that this is not necessarily an American thing but more of a Mary thing. And again, I'm not sure if I do it too sometimes.

I think it would be helpful if there was some way I could get in people's heads and see what their intentions are...or get inside my own and see why these things are so bothersome.

Recovering from vacation (or a virus)

While we were in San Diego, we visited the zoo, of course, and toured an aircraft carrier that is now a museum. Mostly, though, we just relaxed and walked around town a lot, doing things like visiting farmers' markets. Hubby and I were on the same page about what we wanted from the vacation (change of scenery, do what we want, when we want, if we want) and that always makes it nicer.

It is nice to be home, but I'm dizzy and I don't know why...several theories--jet lag, Dramamine withdrawal, perimenopause (sorry), or something going around the area...a Facebook friend has been reporting three days of head-spinning on her status, so maybe it's some kind of bug. I wish it would stop, though, because I'm having trouble with any activity that involves standing up, and I need to do things to get ready to go back to work.