Yes folks, this Saturday I am going to be in college again. I am going to put strangely colored streaks in my hair, wear inappropriately tight and short clothing, and drink my face off while listening to music too loud and dancing too late into the night.
I might wear fishnet stockings and basement boots (those boots that you cared just little enough about that you didn't mind wearing them in 2 inches worth of spilled beer and grime).
I'll probably scream in my friends' ears and sing off-key; I'll definitely eat unhealthy food and fall victim to a very *un*healthy dose of secondhand smoke.
With any luck, my husband and friends will be just as depraved as I plan on being. I'm pretty sure they'll play along.
The best part is, come Sunday we won't need to do any homework because we are going to wake up adults, wash the fake dye out of our hair (hopefully), and drive home from Houston - probably hungover - after seeing Flogging Molly at the House of Blues Saturday night.
I'm not sure I'll get anyone else to do the green streaks in the hair, seeing as they all have much more important and serious jobs than I do, but I'm pretty sure I won't be alone in the rest of it.
Here is how I know I've grown up and passed the point of no return - I just spent a few hours searching the internet for two things:
1.) A restaurant to have dinner beforehand
2.) A museum we might want to visit while we are there because the King Tut exhibit is in town
The restaurant part isn't so bad - I mean we all need to eat and we want to find a good deal for pre-gaming. This is no real departure from the good old days of slamming a bunch of beers at home before hitting the bar so that we could spend less on overpriced bartended booze.
The museum I'm not ashamed of - there's no harm in looking for some culture when you go to a big city like Houston. It's just proof that the party isn't the sole purpose of the weekend anymore - and it's always a little alarming when you get slapped in the face with that realization out of nowhere, when you genuinely thought you were planning a weekend centered around nothing more than fitting in with a bunch of Irish punk rockers.
Monday, February 27, 2012
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Old Eggs
Yes, it is about what you think..
Speaking of inappropriate behavior at work -
The most inappropriate thing anyone has ever said to me at work has got to be this:
I was having a conversation with a colleague who regularly peppered me with questions about why I didn't pursue law school after majoring in English "because that's what English majors do". And I regularly explained that I wasn't interested in law school and that there are lots of other things for English majors to do - like work. Clearly I was able to wrangle myself a job, so it's not like law school is the only option. And I actually got the impression he would have felt more comfortable with me if I was in school instead of in a career, perhaps because I am a woman but more likely because I have only an English degree and therefore must need more education.
Surprisngly, that was just a lead-in and not the actual story.
What was inappopriate was when my colleague informed me that I was getting old and, therefore, so were my eggs and if I was planning on having kids I better do it soon.
I almost don't even need to say anything more, right?
Speaking of inappropriate behavior at work -
The most inappropriate thing anyone has ever said to me at work has got to be this:
I was having a conversation with a colleague who regularly peppered me with questions about why I didn't pursue law school after majoring in English "because that's what English majors do". And I regularly explained that I wasn't interested in law school and that there are lots of other things for English majors to do - like work. Clearly I was able to wrangle myself a job, so it's not like law school is the only option. And I actually got the impression he would have felt more comfortable with me if I was in school instead of in a career, perhaps because I am a woman but more likely because I have only an English degree and therefore must need more education.
Surprisngly, that was just a lead-in and not the actual story.
What was inappopriate was when my colleague informed me that I was getting old and, therefore, so were my eggs and if I was planning on having kids I better do it soon.
I almost don't even need to say anything more, right?
Leggo My Ego
I've been lucky so far in life, in that I haven't had a whole lot of exposure to the sort of grimy and inapproriate sleazebags that are the bane of so many working women's existences. (And men's too, perhaps.)
A conversation I had today reminded me of this and I got to thinking about what sort of inappropriate behavior I have endured, and just how bad it was compared to the sort of unbelievable scumbaggery that apparently actually happens out there. To real people.
I haven't experienced anything in the way of sexual harrassment. Nor have I been exposed to anger or hostility in the workplace, or a feeling of discomfort that I would feel strongly enough to report. I guess I've been pretty lucky.
What I have experienced is a general sort of inappropriateness that I am not even sure how to categorize. For example, about a year ago, I announced that I was taking a new job within my organization and would be vacating my current position. When asked, by a certain colleague, why I had made that choice, I explained that I wanted to do more for the organization and thought I would be better positioned to accomplish that via the new role. The response I got? "Wow, what an ego on you!" I was sort of taken-aback. The sort of taken-aback that is not sure how to respond and so, in the absence of the biting comeback you wish for, you stand mute trying to figure out what is the best way to handle the situation. I think I stammered something about not having an ego and that wanting to do more for your organization doesn't count as having an oversized ego, but I'm sure it came out more like this: "Um, well, uh, I don't really think... uh" So it's kind of like I didn't say anything at all.
So here is the real issue. Is it a bad thing to have a big ego? If ego means the opinion you have of yourself and your self-importance, is it wrong to have a big one?
The most assholey people I know are the ones who have low self-esteem, because they feel like they have to compensate for their shortcomings by being "toppers" and throwing everyone else under the bus all the time to make themselves look better. The self-confident ones are the ones who don't mind giving other people the credit and pursuing the greater good rather than self-gain. If that is the side effect of having a big ego - than I say serve me up another platter of self-importance. What is so wrong with wanting to find a place for yourself where you feel like you're doing some good rather than just sitting around waiting for someone to give you work? So I felt under utilized... I could have either sat around for the next 30 years being under utilized and taking full advantage of it, or I could admit that I can do more and actively seek out a place for myself where more would be asked of me. In what fucked up universe is the former the preferable option just because having a "big ego" might get me a place at the unpopular table?
A conversation I had today reminded me of this and I got to thinking about what sort of inappropriate behavior I have endured, and just how bad it was compared to the sort of unbelievable scumbaggery that apparently actually happens out there. To real people.
I haven't experienced anything in the way of sexual harrassment. Nor have I been exposed to anger or hostility in the workplace, or a feeling of discomfort that I would feel strongly enough to report. I guess I've been pretty lucky.
What I have experienced is a general sort of inappropriateness that I am not even sure how to categorize. For example, about a year ago, I announced that I was taking a new job within my organization and would be vacating my current position. When asked, by a certain colleague, why I had made that choice, I explained that I wanted to do more for the organization and thought I would be better positioned to accomplish that via the new role. The response I got? "Wow, what an ego on you!" I was sort of taken-aback. The sort of taken-aback that is not sure how to respond and so, in the absence of the biting comeback you wish for, you stand mute trying to figure out what is the best way to handle the situation. I think I stammered something about not having an ego and that wanting to do more for your organization doesn't count as having an oversized ego, but I'm sure it came out more like this: "Um, well, uh, I don't really think... uh" So it's kind of like I didn't say anything at all.
So here is the real issue. Is it a bad thing to have a big ego? If ego means the opinion you have of yourself and your self-importance, is it wrong to have a big one?
The most assholey people I know are the ones who have low self-esteem, because they feel like they have to compensate for their shortcomings by being "toppers" and throwing everyone else under the bus all the time to make themselves look better. The self-confident ones are the ones who don't mind giving other people the credit and pursuing the greater good rather than self-gain. If that is the side effect of having a big ego - than I say serve me up another platter of self-importance. What is so wrong with wanting to find a place for yourself where you feel like you're doing some good rather than just sitting around waiting for someone to give you work? So I felt under utilized... I could have either sat around for the next 30 years being under utilized and taking full advantage of it, or I could admit that I can do more and actively seek out a place for myself where more would be asked of me. In what fucked up universe is the former the preferable option just because having a "big ego" might get me a place at the unpopular table?
Garbage Fairy? Nosy Neighbor? Good Samaritan???
Alright so today was garbage day. Which means we take our great big green garbage thing (oh my god, am I going brain dead? -- it took me forever to think of the word "can"!) and roll it to the end of the driveway, and then when we get home in the afternoon it has been emptied and then left pretty much in the middle of the street. This is just what happens. Every single Wednesday.
Now, for those of you who haven't been to my house - some background.
1.) When Jeff Foxworthy said "If when giving directions to your house, you have to say 'turn off the paved road', you might be a redneck" - he was talking about my house. I live in a 'horseshoe' type neighborhood, on a semi-compacted gravel road with lots of potholes and no real set width. It's no street. More like a trail.
2.) My house is the first one on my road, which means my six or so neighbors who share that part of the road with us always have to drive by my house. My neighbors across the street have planted great big wavy green plants that started out pretty and are now not much more than a nuisance because they're growing into the road and forcing most people to drive pretty much through our grass to get down the road. I hate those plants.
3.) So... on trash day - the garbagemen just drop our trash can in the middle of the road and I love it. It makes people slow down and drive around it and it inconveniences everyone, including myself, and I love it and hope they keep doing it. This is because I'm a mean person but also because people tend to drive like 40 mph down this gravel road. And little kids play on this road all the time, and my house is on a bend where, because of the obnoxious green road blockers (plants), you can't see what is coming at you. Not even great big speeding white trucks. And apparently, being the only person on the road that does not have kids qualifies me to also be the only person on the road who cares about their safety. So on trash day I like to see all the drivers on my road have to slow down and purposefully drive around my annoying trash can. I wish every day was garbage day.
So today, Adam and I come home and normally we would have to drive around the trash can and take a very sharp turn to then get into our driveway and have a nice laugh about how annoying we must be to all our neighbors. Instead, we pulled up and our trashcan had been drug all the way down the driveway (no small feat considering it's tiny pebbles, not asphalt, and semi-long) and under the carport. Which actually felt a little like an invasion of privacy, as hermit-like as that might seem. This is mostly because the carport is underneath the house, so it feels like they were in my house. Super weird, I know.
So the burning question is - WHO MOVED MY TRASH CAN?
I wish this was some sort of philosophical question with a greater meaning, like Who Moved My Cheese. I suppose I could try to make it one - where I equate my trash can to my retirement account; empty and in a place it doesn't belong.
But really, I just wish I knew who moved my trash can. Because I think it's weird and I do not believe it was simply a nice gesture because WHY? Adam and I don't go around doing nice gestures. If someone needed a wider berth for their gigantic white truck, why didn't they just move the can away from the road? (sidenote: in case you haven't been to Texas, 90% of the vehicles on the road are huge white trucks.)
Ah, the trials and tribulations of my life. What ever will happen next? Perhaps some mailbox fraud or a smashed pumpkin in my driveway. Aren't you glad you read this post?
Now, for those of you who haven't been to my house - some background.
1.) When Jeff Foxworthy said "If when giving directions to your house, you have to say 'turn off the paved road', you might be a redneck" - he was talking about my house. I live in a 'horseshoe' type neighborhood, on a semi-compacted gravel road with lots of potholes and no real set width. It's no street. More like a trail.
2.) My house is the first one on my road, which means my six or so neighbors who share that part of the road with us always have to drive by my house. My neighbors across the street have planted great big wavy green plants that started out pretty and are now not much more than a nuisance because they're growing into the road and forcing most people to drive pretty much through our grass to get down the road. I hate those plants.
3.) So... on trash day - the garbagemen just drop our trash can in the middle of the road and I love it. It makes people slow down and drive around it and it inconveniences everyone, including myself, and I love it and hope they keep doing it. This is because I'm a mean person but also because people tend to drive like 40 mph down this gravel road. And little kids play on this road all the time, and my house is on a bend where, because of the obnoxious green road blockers (plants), you can't see what is coming at you. Not even great big speeding white trucks. And apparently, being the only person on the road that does not have kids qualifies me to also be the only person on the road who cares about their safety. So on trash day I like to see all the drivers on my road have to slow down and purposefully drive around my annoying trash can. I wish every day was garbage day.
So today, Adam and I come home and normally we would have to drive around the trash can and take a very sharp turn to then get into our driveway and have a nice laugh about how annoying we must be to all our neighbors. Instead, we pulled up and our trashcan had been drug all the way down the driveway (no small feat considering it's tiny pebbles, not asphalt, and semi-long) and under the carport. Which actually felt a little like an invasion of privacy, as hermit-like as that might seem. This is mostly because the carport is underneath the house, so it feels like they were in my house. Super weird, I know.
So the burning question is - WHO MOVED MY TRASH CAN?
I wish this was some sort of philosophical question with a greater meaning, like Who Moved My Cheese. I suppose I could try to make it one - where I equate my trash can to my retirement account; empty and in a place it doesn't belong.
But really, I just wish I knew who moved my trash can. Because I think it's weird and I do not believe it was simply a nice gesture because WHY? Adam and I don't go around doing nice gestures. If someone needed a wider berth for their gigantic white truck, why didn't they just move the can away from the road? (sidenote: in case you haven't been to Texas, 90% of the vehicles on the road are huge white trucks.)
Ah, the trials and tribulations of my life. What ever will happen next? Perhaps some mailbox fraud or a smashed pumpkin in my driveway. Aren't you glad you read this post?
Yes - Nigeria!
Hello and thank you to my one Nigerian reader! I am excited!
Or - at least I presume that is what it means when I click on Audience and I see a bunch of "United States" and one Nigeria.
Or - at least I presume that is what it means when I click on Audience and I see a bunch of "United States" and one Nigeria.
Monday, February 20, 2012
Buying America: Grocery Day Part 2
If nothing else - if buying American does nothing for our country and doesn't make an impact on the global economy at all - trying to buy only products made only in the U.S.A really stops you from buying whatever you want whenever you want and therefore is perhaps contributing to my vacation fund. Actually scratch that and replace with "bill paying fund".
For example, I'm scared to go shopping for clothes, so I'm just not doing it. Instead of actively going out and looking for American-made clothing, I'm just not buying any - which is really beside the point. But I've spent a decent amount of time on the internet searching for American-made clothing and I'm having a difficult time. Lucky Brand Jeans MIGHT be assembled in America. I'm not totally sure. It's hard to tell - this really is a difficult task and I have to admit I'm experiencing a fair amount of frustration at how little is actually made in America. And Lucky Brand is expensive, much more expensive than Target-brand cheapies that I normally shop for. And because of how arduous this is, I made executive decisions on two occasions yesterday at the grocery store. Here is the story of my epic failure at my self-imposed challenge:
1.) Adam wants a shrimp peeler thing-a-ma-jig that you can stick in your shrimp and remove all the poopy veins. UH.... YES PLEASE! He doesn't need to convince me any on that purchase. But there are none made in America apparently. Even though it's literally just a curved piece of plastic. The one at HEB was made in China (ouch) but cost only $2. I told him just to get it. FAIL.
2.) Adam wants a little brush and dustpan for the garage. There were four, count them FOUR, options at HEB - none of which were made in America. I approved his purchase of the one made in Mexico (slightly less ouch). I mean, if you're going to give me four options, none of which are made in America, what am I supposed to do? Probably I could have held out and looked harder, and in this aspect I am totally in the wrong. I feel guilty and like a failure and just generally depressed about my goal.
Small consolations:
1.) Used the Purex for the first time yesterday and my clothes are still intact. Glad to see this means I can continue to use Purex.
2.) Bought some candles which are handmade in America.
3.) The rest of the food items we bought at the store were made in America.
4.) Had to buy a new bottom rack for dishwasher - was excited to see it was made in America.
5.) Went to Home Depot to purchase a bunch of electrical items for some new project Adam is doing in the garage. Of the ten items we got, seven were made in America and three were made in China. The problem was he couldn't do his project without those three so I had to approve them. Again I feel the crushing weight of failure bearing down upon me and there's nothing I can do about it. The only consolation is that we bought more that was made in America than wasn't, and we actively made choices in those aspects to purchase the American-made version over the non-American-made version. There's some stuff you just can't get.
AMERICA - MANUFACTURE MORE STUFF!!!
For example, I'm scared to go shopping for clothes, so I'm just not doing it. Instead of actively going out and looking for American-made clothing, I'm just not buying any - which is really beside the point. But I've spent a decent amount of time on the internet searching for American-made clothing and I'm having a difficult time. Lucky Brand Jeans MIGHT be assembled in America. I'm not totally sure. It's hard to tell - this really is a difficult task and I have to admit I'm experiencing a fair amount of frustration at how little is actually made in America. And Lucky Brand is expensive, much more expensive than Target-brand cheapies that I normally shop for. And because of how arduous this is, I made executive decisions on two occasions yesterday at the grocery store. Here is the story of my epic failure at my self-imposed challenge:
1.) Adam wants a shrimp peeler thing-a-ma-jig that you can stick in your shrimp and remove all the poopy veins. UH.... YES PLEASE! He doesn't need to convince me any on that purchase. But there are none made in America apparently. Even though it's literally just a curved piece of plastic. The one at HEB was made in China (ouch) but cost only $2. I told him just to get it. FAIL.
2.) Adam wants a little brush and dustpan for the garage. There were four, count them FOUR, options at HEB - none of which were made in America. I approved his purchase of the one made in Mexico (slightly less ouch). I mean, if you're going to give me four options, none of which are made in America, what am I supposed to do? Probably I could have held out and looked harder, and in this aspect I am totally in the wrong. I feel guilty and like a failure and just generally depressed about my goal.
Small consolations:
1.) Used the Purex for the first time yesterday and my clothes are still intact. Glad to see this means I can continue to use Purex.
2.) Bought some candles which are handmade in America.
3.) The rest of the food items we bought at the store were made in America.
4.) Had to buy a new bottom rack for dishwasher - was excited to see it was made in America.
5.) Went to Home Depot to purchase a bunch of electrical items for some new project Adam is doing in the garage. Of the ten items we got, seven were made in America and three were made in China. The problem was he couldn't do his project without those three so I had to approve them. Again I feel the crushing weight of failure bearing down upon me and there's nothing I can do about it. The only consolation is that we bought more that was made in America than wasn't, and we actively made choices in those aspects to purchase the American-made version over the non-American-made version. There's some stuff you just can't get.
AMERICA - MANUFACTURE MORE STUFF!!!
The Power of Community
It amazes me every time I encounted the amazing willingness of my small town to come together and support a cause for one of its own.
Last year, my 19-year-old neighbor, Hayle Shay Brown, was critically injured after an accident during a motocross race. She has endured numerous surgeries and continues to suffer from heart problems, as well as being paralyzed from the waist down. Despite her injuries, she maintains a positive attitude and has the adopted the motto "hope does not give up". In addition, she is joining the board of a local organization that supports causes like her own, so that she can spread her message and share her attitude with people who truly know and feel her pain.
On Thursday, her family and friends put on a benefit in Hayle's honor, in order to raise money for her mounting medical bills. The event was held in the Assembly Hall at the local expo center - a very large room with a stage and tons of cafeteria style tables, and the place was packed by the end of the night. Adam and I were touched to see how many of the neighbors came out, as well as donated items for the silent and live auctions. Ms Hayle and her parents made speeches about how tough their journey has been and, despite that, how much they refuse to give up hope that she will one day walk again and they will be able to return their lives to a sense of normalcy. Most heart-warming of all was finding out, during the event, who had actually done the work to make it happen and spread the word. A local real estate agency - competitors of the real estate agency Hayle's father owns - ran the event and made sure it went off without a hitch. When I heard this, I got very choked up as I was reminded of the goodness not only in people, but also in local businesses.
Other local businesses, such as a prominent HVAC repair firm, donated services that went for thousands of dollars, far above their actual value.
Adam and I were struck by how willingly the entire community came out to support this brave young woman and show her that her plight will not be forgotten or ignored, and that her family will not be left to bear the burden alone. I pray that for Hayle, hope really doesn't ever give up.
Last year, my 19-year-old neighbor, Hayle Shay Brown, was critically injured after an accident during a motocross race. She has endured numerous surgeries and continues to suffer from heart problems, as well as being paralyzed from the waist down. Despite her injuries, she maintains a positive attitude and has the adopted the motto "hope does not give up". In addition, she is joining the board of a local organization that supports causes like her own, so that she can spread her message and share her attitude with people who truly know and feel her pain.
On Thursday, her family and friends put on a benefit in Hayle's honor, in order to raise money for her mounting medical bills. The event was held in the Assembly Hall at the local expo center - a very large room with a stage and tons of cafeteria style tables, and the place was packed by the end of the night. Adam and I were touched to see how many of the neighbors came out, as well as donated items for the silent and live auctions. Ms Hayle and her parents made speeches about how tough their journey has been and, despite that, how much they refuse to give up hope that she will one day walk again and they will be able to return their lives to a sense of normalcy. Most heart-warming of all was finding out, during the event, who had actually done the work to make it happen and spread the word. A local real estate agency - competitors of the real estate agency Hayle's father owns - ran the event and made sure it went off without a hitch. When I heard this, I got very choked up as I was reminded of the goodness not only in people, but also in local businesses.
Other local businesses, such as a prominent HVAC repair firm, donated services that went for thousands of dollars, far above their actual value.
Adam and I were struck by how willingly the entire community came out to support this brave young woman and show her that her plight will not be forgotten or ignored, and that her family will not be left to bear the burden alone. I pray that for Hayle, hope really doesn't ever give up.
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