I’m Going to Blame the Label on this One

What I thought were bad spring allergies have turned into a nasty cold, and with much difficulty, I had to leave work very early. However, wanting to recover as quickly as possible, I decided to “treat” myself to some liquid cold medication – stop the coughing, drain my nose, all that good stuff? Gimme gimme.

Around 10, out of my mind with illness, I grabbed one of the two bottles out of my bag, noticed it was orange – and therefore must be daytime stuff – and downed the correct dosage. I was surprised by how sleepy it made me, but figured the one hour nap I took would do me good anyway.

It was just now time for another dose, so I grabbed the same bottle, down the two yucky tablespoons, and chanced to look at the label.

It wasn’t daytime medication.

Why do they insist on making the daytime things bright colors that clearly communicate staying awake?

Guess I’ll be going to sleep again soon, and against my will….

Dog Kisses

I’ve talked about Sunny, the Treeing Walker Coon Hound on here previously. What I did not share was her habit of being my fuzzy alarm clock.

My door doesn’t shut well, and Sunny loves to burst right into rooms – this includes the bathroom, where I may be in the shower, or otherwise not disposed to shutting the door, her tail of mass destructive pounding a tattoo as it wags against the door jamb. An old, occasional habit of hers it to push her way into my room in the wee hours of the morning (usually during my one opportunity to sleep in), put her cold nose next to me, and WHINE.

Yeah, I love dogs.

Okay, if I’m being honest, it doesn’t bug me that much. I don’t want to over sleep (less of a danger now that I have to be at work by 8:30), and there are worse ways to wake up than to a fuzzy head and a wagging tail – even if that tail manages to knock everything off my nightstand in its joy….

But today, I had a little time, and I wanted my extra few minutes, dogs be damned. Sunny’s waking me up isn’t the problem; the problem is all the MANY noises drifting into my room from the crowded kitchen. And the family is loud. Sunny wasn’t about to leave, she was too busy hoping to score another candy wrapper from my garbage can – so I just shut the door.

Not so funny when you can’t push a door open, is it, dog?

She whined at first, but then seemed to resign herself to her fate, and I heard not a peep from her as I gave myself another ten or fifteen minutes of rest.

Let me preface this next part by saying Sunny’s never been overly affectionate the way they other dogs are. Oh, she’s happy to get pets and attention, but she’s just as happy wrestling with her canine friends. Her licks are generally relegated to the evenings, when she’s very sleep, and will absent-mindedly lick your arm as you pet her. Lick, not kiss. There’s a deliberateness with kisses she just has never imparted to me.

So when I finally decided to get up and release this massive moose of a dog from her purgatory, I got down on the floor with her and wrapped my arms around her, rubbing her belly and encircling her with a hug. Usually she’s okay with these briefly, then ready to move on.

But today she turned her head and gave me a big, soft kiss right on the nose.

A kiss, not a lick.

As frustrated as I am with my current living arrangements, it’s nice to be cared for by somebody.

Post mark: after releasing her and going downstairs, I found a roach in the kitchen, so judge the balance of the morning as you will.

This This This This This

Once more, I love Cracked.

I’ve only got through the first section of this article, not expecting it to take this tact, and I’m already on my feet applauding. THANK YOU, Luke McKinney! For restoring my faith in most of the masculine half of humanity! I’ve talked about my take on gender issues on here before, and I think I do so from a pretty calm, rational perspective. But according to the guys referenced here, I would just be spewing crazy emotions because of my menstrual cycle.

Just because SOME attractive women SOME of the time milk SOME poor suckers for all their worth – women in no way have it easier. That’s like saying China is a shining example of industry just because it makes a lot of stuff. I think that metaphor works. I’m not exactly known for my good metaphors.

I mean, just to clarify, if I made two f–king dollars an hour more, I could actually afford to live on my own. But I work in a field dominated by women, a field historically underpaid for its labor, and a gender historically underpaid. I’m sure the “man-boys” making THESE comments aren’t much ahead of me financially, if at all; after all, business requires SOME degree of social skills and the ability to not objectify EVERY female coworker that walks through the door every day. But as a whole, the average man will ALWAYS come out ahead of me, and will almost NEVER be treated as a piece of meat, unless he has chosen to be in a situation where that is desirable (insert whatever sexual fantasy you have here).

Are there exceptions to the rule? Absolutely. For every Hillary Clinton or, uh…Martha Stewart, but she’s a less inspiring example – for every one of those, there’s a male escort worker being treated like a commodity. But just so I don’t let anyone forget that’s what I studied in college, you know what my research showed?

They were mostly being objectified by other men.

Guys. Guys.

You can do better. For all of us, you can.

The Belated Birthday Biannual Extravaganza!

I’m not sure biannual was used properly here. Would it indicate I do this twice a year, or this is the second year it’s been done? I was going for something like “bicentennial” but just couldn’t work out the English for it. Do feel free to comment.

Alright, I’m late to update. I was going to do my birthday update two weeks ago – you know, when it was my birthday. Apparently I recognized that to be far too crazy an idea, and instead planned to update last week for the Country’s two-year anniversary. But then I got too sick/too wrapped up playing video games to be bothered, so at last I’m ripping my hands from my shiny new 3DS to finally type this up – and rest assured my hands will be flying back to it once it’s finished (basically, Fire Emblem is really good).

Ah, my 24th birthday. That was an odd sounding number, because I knew from anecdotal evidence that people begin to feel “old” at twenty-four in ways that make actual old people laugh at them derisively. Do I feel old? I don’t know about that. But twenty-three sounds weirdly young in ways that it did not before. I definitely feel a slight sense of urgency at achieving my lifetime goals, but enough perspective to try to calm down and take things as they come. And did I enjoy my birthday? To establish a pattern that will repeat itself throughout this blog post, yes and no. I was showered with gifts from my faraway and loving family, and had a nice, relaxing day, as well as a delightful dinner out.

And then there was the “no” part previously mentioned.

Without much warning, my parents put my soul surviving cat to sleep. Apparently she had lymphoma for months and it was absolutely necessary, and so all that part is alright and understandable. I also understand why they didn’t tell me on my birthday, and I’m glad I at least got to see her on the camera one last time. But it’s hard to go from four pets two years ago to only one…and it’s hard to not be there for her, hard to know I won’t come home and be drooled on by her. She was a good cat, albeit a little satanic (like most cats are), and she really loved me. Sabrina was twelve, so she’d certainly lived a good long life and already cheated death twice. But still, it was….sad.

My last picture with Sabrina, Christmas 2012.

But there is more than just birthday news; mere days BEFORE my birthday, I finally got a full-time job! If you’re looking for the “bad news” part, you could say that it’s me still working with kids, but I consider this portion to be “Good vs. bittersweet” as opposed to objectively “bad.” I’m back to teaching preschool, but I am actually glad about it. Working with older children has definitely been fun, but it’s preschoolers I have the most experience and skill with, and the ones I’ll be working with are already all over me like white on rice. The good news here is that the owners are TERRIFIC. At last, something I couldn’t get from either Portland OR CS, support and understanding! I’m part of a team, and we are all on the same wavelength with the same goals! This is going to be AWESOME!

In the “less good” category is the fact that my co-teacher is….I’m not going to get into it all right now, but let’s just say the situation is not GOOD, the owners know that, and kind of want her out, thus a major motivation for hiring me. It’s not quite the money I’d hoped for either, but to put it back in the solidly good category, it’s less than half my current commute and I get a substantial break (albeit unpaid). The owners are really understanding, human people, and have already agreed to give me time off within two weeks of officially starting. I could get used to this.

Again on the “less good” category is leaving the studio. Obviously I’ll be glad to be rid of K, who managed to be a passive-aggressive bitch right up to my final day, but it’s hard to leave the kids behind. I got a LOT of hugs and being told I was a great teacher and “don’t tell Miss Hanna, but you’re my favorite” and cards. God blessed I am going to miss those kids a lot. It is hard to form emotional bonds with children and support them when they depend upon you only to chop that all off when you have to move on. It was hard in Portland, it was hard at CS and it’s hard here. But as I lay awake last night (due, to a really nasty spring cold which goes solidly in the “bad” column), I came to an understanding of how teaching works: your affection for children must always be on loan. Don’t love them too much, don’t hold them too close. Be their teacher, not their surrogate parent, however much you may want to or they may need the latter. Do what you can and let go. Send them on their way, it’s the only way life can work. Save that love for children of your own and the rest of your life, otherwise you’ll always end up brokenhearted. And in teaching, there are always more children. I may look back on certain children I have been with fondly, but I’d be hard pressed to remember their names once they are gone. There are always others that need your care and attention in the present, and that is where you must focus.

Well, with that new job nonsense, suffice to say my grad school applications have been put on hold. I worry this means I’m getting side-tracked from my dreams, but again, I am determined to stop worrying about life and just live it, even if I live it somewhat tamely. I also came close to getting a pet, only to have that hope dashed (bad), and may have a future roommate (good). My mother and aunt are coming to visit in less than two weeks, but even better than that is this:

After working my flabby, exercise-phobic form for five months, I tested for my yellow belt last weekend. I knew all my terminology and moves, and still managed to mess up with nerves, but I messed up confidently. I was too sick to possibly get my belt Wednesday, but as yesterday was my last day of work, I absolutely HAD to go to class and hopefully get my belt, no matter how I felt. Wearing my standard white belt, I went through kicks and moves blandly and without energy; too sick and too tired to try too hard. Then Tashi entered the floor with my yellow belt tucked into one sleeve, and I got to stand before my friends and peers of five month’s creation with the knowledge that I had moved up. I had surmounted something, something that I would never have thought I could ever do just one anniversary ago!

So even though it will be costing me precious dollars, I have decided to keep up the Tae Kwon Do; it’s good exercise that my 3DS addicted self could obviously use, and I find it’s motivating me in ways that did not happen before; a class of people I know and respect pushes me to try harder and learn more, and it makes me want to stick to things outside of the class environment as well. I’ll be taking a week off to adjust to the new job – and then it’s back on the course.

So obviously it’s a weird anniversary. I’ve updated the background image to one of the property here in Virginia from two weeks ago, when greenery was just barely starting to struggle to life. Virginia is strange my life here is certainly different from the life I’ve lived before, and not necessarily in ways that are always better. Yet…I can feel within myself the ways that I have grown: I feel less like I need to rely upon others, I feel more determined to not become anxious or upset, especially about the future, as hard as that is. So whatever I am supposed to learn here…I’m trying.

And that’s working.

People are as confused at 24 as at 22, but in new ways. And that alone is exciting.

A disheveled me getting my yellow belt. Disheveled, but still victorious.

Turkey Lurkey

I’m beginning to think that Virginia only has about three seasons: winter, summer, and neither of those. We went from snow at the end of March full pelt into summer this week; today the high is supposed to be 91. The cherry trees have blossomed, but not much else. The lifeless tree in the front of the house has grown beautiful purple tulip blossoms at the top – but only at the very top, and there’s not a single leaf to be seen. I’m used to easing into spring with warmer weather and gentler showers, tulips and daphne blossoms. Not even the animals ease into spring – or really anything, for that matter.

Hanna and I were on our way to work yesterday, going a good clip down the highway, when smart as you please, a wild turkey decided it was the perfect time to cross the road. If the joke is “Why did the turkey cross the road?” then the punchline must be “To make me brake suddenly at 60 mph.” Not very funny, I know.

Did you know turkeys can fly? Boy is that a good thing. Because as we approached this mass of bird, still trying to brake, it opened its wings and flew a good three feet into the air, crossing the divider line, and presumably clearing the road, I was too busy keeping my eyes on the road to check. Fly may also be a bit strong of a word. In bird terms, it was more like an assisted hop. But it had its grace, in its own way.

Not knowing what else to say from the adrenaline from the moment, I, in my wisdom, turned to Hanna and said “Did you see that turkey?!”

Considering it was impossible to miss, he dropped his hands into his face and groaned at my level of genius.

Not a Virginia turkey, but this is one of my favorite pictures of the turkeys I saw with my dad when camping, back in Oregon. Our bird was less impressive, more brown. And, you know, more life threatening.

Wow, You Win ALL the Awesome Points

Beaker is my favorite….

Country Kitsch

I took a country walk as it began to rain, down to the mailbox with Sunny, an over-sized moose of a dog – who liked to find and devour poop, and when I made her spit it out, she would wag her tail vigorously, and look up at me with an expression of “I love this game, can we do it again?”

A quiet, cool walk down the gravel road, where the neighbor’s three horses stared unusually at us as we passed by. I do not know if it was the dog or my bright blue umbrella, but it caused the youngest – a sprightly bay named Gambler – to come charging curiously up to the fence and watch as I raised and lowered my umbrella, trying to gauge a reaction. He didn’t seem to care about that, but something sent him racing back toward the other two, giving little kicks and jumps as he went. Standing there in the rain, I could watch the Paint, Ranger, go galloping past as well, while stately white Andalusian Galahad simply watched.

The pleasures of living in the country.

A picture of Hanna and Sunny from the end of last year, with Sunny believing herself to be a lap dog.

Opening Doors

I got hit by a bolt of lightning about fifteen minutes ago. Readers will know this blog is all about me flailing about in the sea of life without any sense of direction, and some despair over that fact.

I was flipping through the playbill from last week’s production of Les Mis when one of the actresses listed that she’d been a student at the Tisch School, the performing arts school of NYU for those not in the know. I had a moment of sighing as I remembered my dreams of wanting to go there and becoming the musical theater writer I’d dreamed of being. “I’m not good enough for that,” I thought to myself in a forlorn, self-pitying way.

And then it hit.

“Yes. I. Am.”

Finally. FINALLY. Weeks and months and YEARS of being afraid of never finding the next step – gone! At last I remembered what I wanted, without fear and without doubt. For so long, all I wanted was to get a job that would give me some financial comfort, and to skate along hoping something great and wonderful may happen.

Well, it’s going to happen. And not from waiting. I’d discussed going back to school many times with many people, but always said no, not knowing what I wanted, not knowing what to do.

Well, I know. I know in the way we can only know when fate whispers in our hearts to be strong. I’m going to reapply to NYU – but not for anthropology this time, oh no.

The Tisch School has a graduate program for Musical Theater Writing. Do I have a composer? No. Have I gotten produced? No. Do I even have a strong GRE score? No. But damn it, that’s not going to stop me anymore. I decided against applying for the lyricist focus, as that would really require a CD of songs I just don’t have, and am going to focus on the librettist track. Ideally, I would have a musical script, a CD of songs, and reviews. I don’t have that. But I do have one of the alternates – a full length script, that for once in my life doesn’t need to be edited – and I have a musical I’ve been putting off with years worth of excuses.

I’ve got until February 1st to put this together. Nearly a whole year. So this weekend I’ll be braving the mouse poop attic and getting back my musical notes, and saying “Screw the composer, I can do this myself,” and putting together my script. Over and over and over again if necessary. And I’ll redo my GREs if I have to, and I’ll kill myself doing it if I have to.

People wait their whole lives for something beautiful, and at last it’s going to happen for me. I don’t care if I don’t get accepted the first time. I don’t care if I’m broke or back in debt. I don’t care if I feel stuck, because this time fate is on my side! This time I won’t let myself be afraid!

And I thank God for giving me this strength at last.

Quiet Desperation

Another overwrought title, this time at the courtesy of Thoreau. The other title I considered for this was “slight desperation,” which may be more appropriate to how I’m feeling, but whatever, let’s just move on.

My dad’s started his new job, and unfortunately he’s not happy. Probably a large part of that is being used to his new “retirement.” I’m sure that’s how I’ll feel when I finally get full-time work again and can’t sleep in until 9:30. To be honest, I am a little wistful as well. I had gotten very used to chatting with my dad on Skype when I got up, or whenever I had a thought (Mom’s not on the computer as much as he is, though we do talk that way sometimes). It’s very weird now to hardly hear from him – normal, certainly, but you get used to things after half a year.

Yeah, I’ve been in Virginia nearly half a year now. It will be my birthday just one week from Saturday, and that’s kind of weird. I certainly had not thought, those six months ago, that this is where I’d be when I celebrated my 24th birthday. Am I disappointed? Um….I think I’m more confused than anything else. I also have no idea what I’m going to do for it, except bring cupcakes to work and maybe get a small cake for home. But that’s pretty small. Maybe I’ve reached the age where you no longer celebrate birthdays? But I think birthdays can always be fun, so I’m not sure that’s necessarily true. Certainly this year will be far, far quieter than my big party last year. Man, that was fun…I should find the pictures to that, but then I worry I might get homesick.

Unfortunately, I’m not quite happy at my job anymore. Part of it is being tired of K’s BS, though loyal readers will certainly remember I’ve dealt with coworker drama before. I guess maybe it’s because it’s never to this extent and I’ve never had someone seriously HATE me before. So that’s weird. But mainly I’m just stagnating at the studio. The spring break hours I was supposed to get were cut, and I was just told I won’t be working full-time this summer, either. It certainly helps me feel less bad if I DO leave, and I think I might soon. If the stars align, I MIGHT be going back to early childcare.

Yeah, I know. I’ve been wanting to get out of childcare, but if that’s what I can get hired to do full-time, then so be it. Not that I’m hired yet. It’s a complicated story, but I’m essentially playing cat and mouse with a local daycare. Working with older kids at CS was my favorite part of the job, and there’s certainly many, MANY kids I’ve enjoyed at the studio. Yet even so, I feel kind of right about possibly going back to younger child care. It’s what I’ve done the most of, after all. It’s what most of my experience has geared me towards, and I understand little kids and know how to handle them in ways that don’t work at all on crazy older kids.

Actually, I kind of would like to start working with infants. I know it sounds crazy, but that would at least be interesting to me, because I know pretty much nothing about how to work with them, so it would be a new challenge. Ever so briefly, I worked with one year olds at CS, filling in for a coworker. It was certainly different, but it was also kind of mind-blowing; you never really expect one year olds to have much going on in their heads, and yet they were so obviously aware and understanding of what I said and did. It was amazing. I could comment on an object in their hand – just comment, not move or anything – and they’d offer it to me, and take it back when I said “no, thank you.” The downside would be diaper changes, and the inability to reason with a baby. And that you don’t really DO much with them, in my experience. But I’m ready to try it! I’ve been cooing more at babies I see or meet in the world, so maybe it’s time to give it a try? We’ll see if fate takes me in that direction.

Well, there was more random stuff to talk about, but I think that’s enough for now…just wish me luck with this job stuff, guys, or at least wish me a happy birthday.

Up-up-up-update!

I talked about ghost stories in this earlier post, and now it really has become one. My aunt Marilyn passed away in the early hours of last Sunday morning. My dad thought it was fitting she passed away during Passover, but mostly the reaction of he and I was one of “….oh.”

I mean, I felt BAD, but in that distant way that doesn’t really effect you; as in hearing about a terrible car crash, or victims of devastation on the other side of the world. You recognize it to be tragic, you may even feel a little sad. But it’s not a personal loss. So it was with my aunt. I actually felt worse to know she was dying than hearing she was dead. I don’t know if she got the card, I never heard back. I don’t know that I expected to. It was just sort of…empty. And it also makes me think of “Nothing,” from “Chorus Line,” but that song involves much more personal feeling than this event does…

For those who are curious, K is still treating me as badly as ever. Apparently because I’m friends with her super work crush (no, it isn’t Hanna); my boss said there’s nothing I can do at this point, so I just try to ignore her and get by with my life….

Life is otherwise just going along…sometimes well and sometimes not. I’ve been playing the new Fire Emblem nonstop for a little over a week now, since I finally have an up-to-date game tech of SOME kind, in this case a really sweet Fire Emblem limited edition 3DS. Oh Lord is it sexy. To make me a bigger nerd, I’m trying another meetup group today, this one on video games, so I’ll be playing Super Smash Brothers Melee for the first time. I’ll be sure to update you if anything exciting happens there.

Otherwise, the days just pass one after another, punctuated by some strange events – which generally get listed here.

Happy early Easter, is all I can say.