Okay, so maybe reading The Secret (or at least skimming it) will lead me to a breakthrough after all. Or not.
I continue to ponder my role in this world. I haven't found my place in the workforce yet, and I'm still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. I know, "Join the club," you say. We're all trying to find that magical blend of challenging, meaningful and financially rewarding work.
But I think about it. A lot. And I'm still hedging when asked the question, "If you could do anything, what would it be?"
My first response is nothing. The only reason I work is to make money. If that weren't an issue, I would not work. Period. Of course let's talk about your definition of "work." It's not work if you love what you are doing, right?
So what do I want to be? And why am I afraid to admit it - to myself and others?
I was pressed on that question last night, and I finally said "I want to be a writer."
There. Was that so hard?
"Then why don't you do it? I've read some of the things you've written - you are a good writer."
And that's where I started with the excuses. I'm used to earning a living wage; I'm afraid that I couldn't earn enough to maintain my lifestyle. Of course that's a copout. What is really behind that excuse is this - I'm afraid that no one will care what I have to say. Or worse - that my writing will be criticized.
And so I’ve allowed this fear to keep me from doing what I want to do. I have ideas for stories, novels. But I’ve never totally fleshed them out. I’ve never put together that finished piece and tried to do something with it. In some ways, this blog is my book. You know the adage that if you want to write, you should write every day. That’s what I do here. Sometimes more often than others. Sometimes more eloquently than others.
I think I’ve run out of excuses. If writing is my passion (and it’s just about the only thing that I’ve ever even considered attaching that label to) then I need to do it. I need to put together a finished product and go with it. It doesn’t even necessarily need to be a book. I could start out small with an article or a short story.
Maybe I’ll get paid to write, and maybe it’s just an outlet for me. Maybe I’ll never earn more than the $150 I made two years again when I wrote those silly society columns for the local newspaper.
Or I could just end this sentence and hit the “publish” button.
Friday, April 27, 2007
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Learning how to say "no."
Last night I had a meltdown in the middle of Barnes and Noble's cafe. It had been eleven months in the making.
Eleven months ago, I let my self be coaxed, cajoled and pressured into working on a collaborative project with my neighbor Celia. A person I thought was turning into a friend at long last.
Years ago when we first moved here, my first impression of Celia was that she was a condescending know-it-all. I stood firm in that belief for a good 4-5 years. But then she invited me over for pool parties and coffee and she seemed sort of fun and I thought, "At long last, a friend!" My loneliness and need for adult relationships overshadowed my initial instincts when it came to Celia.
Celia discovered that not only could I write, I wrote very well. She latched onto me, like a parasite onto its host, deciding I could be most useful to her. She pressured me into writing a children's book with her even though the tiny voice in my head (the voice I refused to listen to!) screamed, "I'm not interested in writing children's books now! I don't want to write with a partner! I don't really like Celia all that much!"
For the next eleven months, denial and excuses became my modus operandi. As work progressed on the book, the sheer accumulation of words necessitated that I stick with it, despite that tiny, ineffectual voice inside me fighting to be heard as she tried to tell me, "This writing sucks!"
Celia wanted my writing abilities but as we work, she rejects my ideas and suggestions. She sits at the helm, in control, typing her words. My purpose? Was to inspire and motivate her, apparently. Celia's writing style is to take an ordinary object or action and describe it to death. A flashlight hidden on a ledge in a cave becomes an intricately described grooved metal cylinder. And to what end? Purely to pad word count and reach "The End" faster. Celia operates under the delusion that writing makes money and the faster you do it, the faster you get those royalty checks.
I've been writing for publication since 2000 and I'll tell you right now I've made a grand total of about $90 for my writing.
There's so much more I could say about Celia. Anyone who read my blog regularly knows what a struggle I've been through and you're probably nodding your head vigorously now as I admit I was in denial that there was a problem. And you're probably shouting, "YES, FINALLY, SHE GETS IT!" when I say that Celia is an obnoxious pushy bully that I should never have gotten so deeply involved with.
So this meltdown had been building. Recent events leading up to it: I asked Celia for a current copy of our book so I could look it over, begin editing it on my own to try to make it interesting and possibly salable. But I looked at that first page and Celia had listed her name first even though alphabetically mine should naturally come first. Right there - those simple three lines of text symbolized my struggle. When she had first set down those lines and I asked her why her name was first (I can't even remember her reason), that should have been when I bowed out.
But I figured if the thing was ever published, an editor would fix that right up. So I continued editing and as I looked over that first page, I felt ill. My voice wasn't there at all. It was written completely in Celia's dull, klunky, over-detailed style. It was pure crap.
Eleven months and 112 pages of pure crap.
And every Tuesday and Friday morning I'm supposed to head to her house, my mind races for ways out.
So last night, in my writers' group, with my two closest critique partners, I had a meltdown which they watched unfold without surprise. They knew it was coming. And they told me only this:
I spent hours with them trying to teach me how to say "no." And then I came home and spent another few hours with my husband teaching me how to say "no."
No. No more. I'm done. I'm out. No. No. No. NO!
There's nothing wrong with telling people no. If you don't want to do it, if your instincts are saying one thing, don't say another. Just say no. My husband said the only person who can say "no" to look out for you is YOU.
Eleven months ago, I let my self be coaxed, cajoled and pressured into working on a collaborative project with my neighbor Celia. A person I thought was turning into a friend at long last.
Years ago when we first moved here, my first impression of Celia was that she was a condescending know-it-all. I stood firm in that belief for a good 4-5 years. But then she invited me over for pool parties and coffee and she seemed sort of fun and I thought, "At long last, a friend!" My loneliness and need for adult relationships overshadowed my initial instincts when it came to Celia.
Celia discovered that not only could I write, I wrote very well. She latched onto me, like a parasite onto its host, deciding I could be most useful to her. She pressured me into writing a children's book with her even though the tiny voice in my head (the voice I refused to listen to!) screamed, "I'm not interested in writing children's books now! I don't want to write with a partner! I don't really like Celia all that much!"
For the next eleven months, denial and excuses became my modus operandi. As work progressed on the book, the sheer accumulation of words necessitated that I stick with it, despite that tiny, ineffectual voice inside me fighting to be heard as she tried to tell me, "This writing sucks!"
Celia wanted my writing abilities but as we work, she rejects my ideas and suggestions. She sits at the helm, in control, typing her words. My purpose? Was to inspire and motivate her, apparently. Celia's writing style is to take an ordinary object or action and describe it to death. A flashlight hidden on a ledge in a cave becomes an intricately described grooved metal cylinder. And to what end? Purely to pad word count and reach "The End" faster. Celia operates under the delusion that writing makes money and the faster you do it, the faster you get those royalty checks.
I've been writing for publication since 2000 and I'll tell you right now I've made a grand total of about $90 for my writing.
There's so much more I could say about Celia. Anyone who read my blog regularly knows what a struggle I've been through and you're probably nodding your head vigorously now as I admit I was in denial that there was a problem. And you're probably shouting, "YES, FINALLY, SHE GETS IT!" when I say that Celia is an obnoxious pushy bully that I should never have gotten so deeply involved with.
So this meltdown had been building. Recent events leading up to it: I asked Celia for a current copy of our book so I could look it over, begin editing it on my own to try to make it interesting and possibly salable. But I looked at that first page and Celia had listed her name first even though alphabetically mine should naturally come first. Right there - those simple three lines of text symbolized my struggle. When she had first set down those lines and I asked her why her name was first (I can't even remember her reason), that should have been when I bowed out.
But I figured if the thing was ever published, an editor would fix that right up. So I continued editing and as I looked over that first page, I felt ill. My voice wasn't there at all. It was written completely in Celia's dull, klunky, over-detailed style. It was pure crap.
Eleven months and 112 pages of pure crap.
And every Tuesday and Friday morning I'm supposed to head to her house, my mind races for ways out.
So last night, in my writers' group, with my two closest critique partners, I had a meltdown which they watched unfold without surprise. They knew it was coming. And they told me only this:
Celia's got to go.
I spent hours with them trying to teach me how to say "no." And then I came home and spent another few hours with my husband teaching me how to say "no."
No. No more. I'm done. I'm out. No. No. No. NO!
There's nothing wrong with telling people no. If you don't want to do it, if your instincts are saying one thing, don't say another. Just say no. My husband said the only person who can say "no" to look out for you is YOU.
Monday, April 23, 2007
Suddenly, Spring - Part II
I had the BEST weekend.
Even though Saturday wasn't my own, I made the best of it. Volunteered for a group helping to rehab a home 12 miles out of town. They were siding, building decks, adding gutters, installing a new hot water tank, painting the living room and kitchen and installing new kitchen cabinets. I was good for painting and that was the extent of it. But I did it with some of the gals from my women's group and we all went out for a drink afterwards and did a little bonding.
Then up the mountain to spend the night with The Man. He threw a few steaks on the grill and we settled in to watch my latest Netflix movie, Stranger Than Fiction. I must have had great big gulps of fresh air because I was asleep on the couch by 9:00.
The Man and I had agreed to go for a bike ride on Sunday, so around 10:30 we hit the road. It was a picture perfect day. Not too hot, not too cool - the temperature was just right. It's still a little early for bugs, so we were pest-free the entire way. We zoomed down hills and raced back up. We went down dirt roads and paused beside the river. We came upon an old cemetary and went in to view the names. It was indeed an old cemetary - everyone was born in the 18th or 19th century. There were war heros buried there. Octegenarians and young children.
We made a big loop around the mountain, got some ice cream at the general store and then walked up the steep part of the hill leading back to The Man's place. Along the way we talked and just had the best time ever. We both enjoyed it, and we're already talking about doing it again.
It's nice when you have a great weekend!
Even though Saturday wasn't my own, I made the best of it. Volunteered for a group helping to rehab a home 12 miles out of town. They were siding, building decks, adding gutters, installing a new hot water tank, painting the living room and kitchen and installing new kitchen cabinets. I was good for painting and that was the extent of it. But I did it with some of the gals from my women's group and we all went out for a drink afterwards and did a little bonding.
Then up the mountain to spend the night with The Man. He threw a few steaks on the grill and we settled in to watch my latest Netflix movie, Stranger Than Fiction. I must have had great big gulps of fresh air because I was asleep on the couch by 9:00.
The Man and I had agreed to go for a bike ride on Sunday, so around 10:30 we hit the road. It was a picture perfect day. Not too hot, not too cool - the temperature was just right. It's still a little early for bugs, so we were pest-free the entire way. We zoomed down hills and raced back up. We went down dirt roads and paused beside the river. We came upon an old cemetary and went in to view the names. It was indeed an old cemetary - everyone was born in the 18th or 19th century. There were war heros buried there. Octegenarians and young children.
We made a big loop around the mountain, got some ice cream at the general store and then walked up the steep part of the hill leading back to The Man's place. Along the way we talked and just had the best time ever. We both enjoyed it, and we're already talking about doing it again.
It's nice when you have a great weekend!
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Friday, April 20, 2007
Suddenly, Spring
So the Nor'easter has passed and suddenly it's Spring.
I still have a waist high pile of snow on the north side of the house, hidden by the overhang of the porch, but it is melting more and more rapidly. The forecast is for high 60s and into the 70s over the weekend and into Monday, so it's bound to disappear quickly.
I heard the birds singing when I woke up this morning. I really hadn't heard them before this. Patty and I had lunch and walked through the park and we bumped into Amy. It was so nice being out and about.
Tomorrow I'm volunteering on a house rehab project, so I hustled to do as much yard work as I could after work tonight. I won't get a chance tomorrow, and right after the project I'll be headed up to the mountains to spend the night with The Man. I'm taking my bike and we're going to go for a ride on Sunday. It will feel good to be out stretching our legs.
I'm waiting for the second load of laundry to finish in the washer so I can throw it in the dryer. I'm going to need the jeans for tomorrow. I was hoping to get to bed a bit earlier, but oh well. Kind of a slow, boring end to an event filled week.
The tragedy at Virginia Tech has been on my mind all week. I didn't hear about it until about 8:00 on Monday night and I was just stunned. It's all so senseless. I was wondering when we would hear from the shooter's family, and I see that they did finally issue a statement through a representative earlier today. I feel for them. It wasn't anything they did or didn't do. He was just a horribly sick young man.
My mother called last night to say that some sort of threat had been called into her school, and they were going to be in total lockdown today. She was pretty sure it was a prank, and sure enough, it was. Classes were held and no one was hurt. I don't know how many parents kept their kids home, but that was just what the prankster wanted. I believe in taking precautions, but you can't always protect yourself. When these things happen, they happen. When your time is up, it's up.
So live life to the fullest, close your eyes and breathe. Lift your face to the sun and smile. Sounds like a plan to me!
I still have a waist high pile of snow on the north side of the house, hidden by the overhang of the porch, but it is melting more and more rapidly. The forecast is for high 60s and into the 70s over the weekend and into Monday, so it's bound to disappear quickly.
I heard the birds singing when I woke up this morning. I really hadn't heard them before this. Patty and I had lunch and walked through the park and we bumped into Amy. It was so nice being out and about.
Tomorrow I'm volunteering on a house rehab project, so I hustled to do as much yard work as I could after work tonight. I won't get a chance tomorrow, and right after the project I'll be headed up to the mountains to spend the night with The Man. I'm taking my bike and we're going to go for a ride on Sunday. It will feel good to be out stretching our legs.
I'm waiting for the second load of laundry to finish in the washer so I can throw it in the dryer. I'm going to need the jeans for tomorrow. I was hoping to get to bed a bit earlier, but oh well. Kind of a slow, boring end to an event filled week.
The tragedy at Virginia Tech has been on my mind all week. I didn't hear about it until about 8:00 on Monday night and I was just stunned. It's all so senseless. I was wondering when we would hear from the shooter's family, and I see that they did finally issue a statement through a representative earlier today. I feel for them. It wasn't anything they did or didn't do. He was just a horribly sick young man.
My mother called last night to say that some sort of threat had been called into her school, and they were going to be in total lockdown today. She was pretty sure it was a prank, and sure enough, it was. Classes were held and no one was hurt. I don't know how many parents kept their kids home, but that was just what the prankster wanted. I believe in taking precautions, but you can't always protect yourself. When these things happen, they happen. When your time is up, it's up.
So live life to the fullest, close your eyes and breathe. Lift your face to the sun and smile. Sounds like a plan to me!
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Only Four Left!
So I've been getting these CareerBuilder job postings for truck driver jobs. First it was 12 jobs available, and then it dropped to ten. Now I see that there are only four positions left. I hope they fill them soon so I stop getting those emails.
It's snowing. Again. Still. A Noreaster they say. As much as running is a part of John's life, I think it's a good thing he isn't competing in the Boston Marathon this year.
The pork roast is cooking in the crock pot. We're going to have an early dinner so I can get home before the storm gets too bad.
It's snowing. Again. Still. A Noreaster they say. As much as running is a part of John's life, I think it's a good thing he isn't competing in the Boston Marathon this year.
The pork roast is cooking in the crock pot. We're going to have an early dinner so I can get home before the storm gets too bad.
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Monday, April 09, 2007
Adoption Rights
I recently read about a woman who was given up for adoption, found out who her biological mother was, and is now asking for a part of her multi-million dollar estate. My first thought was, of course she's entitled to a part of the estate. And then I thought about it a little more. I don't think my opinion has changed, but the issue does open up a whole can of worms.
Children who are adopted are considered legal heirs to their adopted parents estates, aren't they? So why shouldn't biological children have the same rights even if they were given up for adoption? Here's where it gets sticky - what about all those children conceived via sperm donations? Would allowing an adopted but biological child to make claim on an estate open up the door for sperm donor babies to go after Donor # 709?
I'm sure that there are tons of forms and papers and legal documents that the mothers sign waiving any and all rights for themselves and their potential children before they are ever allowed to make a withdrawal, but someday, don't you think someone is going to try to test that?
I'm already waiting for sperm donor kids to grow up, go out and multiply with each other. Seriously. I mean, they had all these sperm donor babies on the news together. All these women who used Sperm Donor # 401 - basically their children are all half-siblings to each other. Is there going to come a day when these kids grow up, start dating, and have to tell their potential mates "Hey, just so you know, my father is Donor # 401 from the Fairfax Cryobank. Who is your father?"
I don't know. Wacky world we live in, isn't it? Here's an interesting story at Slate with lots of other links. Something to think about.
Children who are adopted are considered legal heirs to their adopted parents estates, aren't they? So why shouldn't biological children have the same rights even if they were given up for adoption? Here's where it gets sticky - what about all those children conceived via sperm donations? Would allowing an adopted but biological child to make claim on an estate open up the door for sperm donor babies to go after Donor # 709?
I'm sure that there are tons of forms and papers and legal documents that the mothers sign waiving any and all rights for themselves and their potential children before they are ever allowed to make a withdrawal, but someday, don't you think someone is going to try to test that?
I'm already waiting for sperm donor kids to grow up, go out and multiply with each other. Seriously. I mean, they had all these sperm donor babies on the news together. All these women who used Sperm Donor # 401 - basically their children are all half-siblings to each other. Is there going to come a day when these kids grow up, start dating, and have to tell their potential mates "Hey, just so you know, my father is Donor # 401 from the Fairfax Cryobank. Who is your father?"
I don't know. Wacky world we live in, isn't it? Here's an interesting story at Slate with lots of other links. Something to think about.
Sunday, April 08, 2007
RDSXGIRL
Being the gutter gal I am, I thought it said "rowdy sex girl" but The Man figured out it probably means "Red Sox Girl."
Saturday, April 07, 2007
Loose Ends
Trying to tie up some loose ends this weekend.
* Sent job posting to Greg
* Emailed John to say hello
* Paid my phone bill which somehow I neglected to pay last month
* Picked up a new supply of aspirin for my once a day heart healthy routine
* Finished putting together a birthday basket for The Man
* Pulled two garbage cans from out back and picked up the large sticks in the yard
* Made carrot raisin salad for tomorrow's easter brunch
* Taxes ... ugh.
* Laundry
* Dishes
The crocus' are blooming and the daylilies and tulips are coming up even though the ground is still frozen. Or at least refrozen. It got cold again and I actually had to wear my winter coat to work yesterday.
Today is The Man's birthday and we're going out with the gang tonight. So I guess I'd better get a move on and hop in the shower so I'm ready when he gets here. Later!
* Sent job posting to Greg
* Emailed John to say hello
* Paid my phone bill which somehow I neglected to pay last month
* Picked up a new supply of aspirin for my once a day heart healthy routine
* Finished putting together a birthday basket for The Man
* Pulled two garbage cans from out back and picked up the large sticks in the yard
* Made carrot raisin salad for tomorrow's easter brunch
* Taxes ... ugh.
* Laundry
* Dishes
The crocus' are blooming and the daylilies and tulips are coming up even though the ground is still frozen. Or at least refrozen. It got cold again and I actually had to wear my winter coat to work yesterday.
Today is The Man's birthday and we're going out with the gang tonight. So I guess I'd better get a move on and hop in the shower so I'm ready when he gets here. Later!
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Every Which Way But Loose
Just did some catching up on my bloglines. I don't think it shows in my blogroll, but once upon a time I subscribed to ProBlogger. I had high hopes that I might become the next Fish or Washingtonienne or Tequila Mockingbird (interestingly enough, when I went to find her blog I discovered that she had just posted today for the first time in over a year!) or something like that.
So far - not.
I haven't found my niche. I'm not linking enough. I'm not commenting enough. I'm not populating my posts with links. I'm just too scattered. I keep saying I want to focus on this, but then I come home at the end of the day and the last thing I want to do is sit in front of the computer. Ah, blogging On Company Time ... those were the days!
These days I'm too busy to blog. Pilates on Monday. Yoga on Tuesday. Pilates again on Wednesday (except for those nights when it conflicts with my women's group meetings). Dinner with The Man on Thursday, followed by Survivor with Mary. Friday? Happy Hour. Last week it was $4 cosmos with Phil; this week it's $7 cosmos with Denise. Saturday it's run around, pick up the house and then go over to spend the night with The Man. On Sunday, crock pot dinners and then back home to start all over again.
And what's new with you?
So far - not.
I haven't found my niche. I'm not linking enough. I'm not commenting enough. I'm not populating my posts with links. I'm just too scattered. I keep saying I want to focus on this, but then I come home at the end of the day and the last thing I want to do is sit in front of the computer. Ah, blogging On Company Time ... those were the days!
These days I'm too busy to blog. Pilates on Monday. Yoga on Tuesday. Pilates again on Wednesday (except for those nights when it conflicts with my women's group meetings). Dinner with The Man on Thursday, followed by Survivor with Mary. Friday? Happy Hour. Last week it was $4 cosmos with Phil; this week it's $7 cosmos with Denise. Saturday it's run around, pick up the house and then go over to spend the night with The Man. On Sunday, crock pot dinners and then back home to start all over again.
And what's new with you?
Monday, April 02, 2007
Rambling
Am I the last to know that postage is going up again? I'm still working through my holiday stamps, thank you very much. Speaking of which - I need to remember to send a birthday card to my friend Diane.
Made corn and cod chowder for the last time this season on Saturday. Once spring and summer hit, it's just not the kind of meal you crave, you know?
Watched Casino Royale and didn't hate the new Bond.
Did my taxes over the weekend. Looks like I only owe $200 instead of $400, so that makes me MUCH happier. I feel like I just 'found' $200!
One of the women over in accounting who walks past my cubicle six times a day to go outside and smoke a cigarette? Said she won $4,000 at the casino over the weekend. On the same machine that doled out $2,700 to her a few months back. Some people have all the luck!
Actually, if I'm to believe The Secret, we all have the luck - it's just some of us know how to better cultivate it. I'm trying. Thinking positive thoughts and trying to attract positive outcomes to me.
Hard to do when you follow up on a job lead to find out that you aren't even getting an interview. But then you come home and hit the job boards once again and see a training position that might be a fit and you happen to know the executive director so you email him to get more info.
'Cause if it doesn't pay at least what you're making now, there's no sense wasting that $0.39 stamp.
Wanted to tweak my template and was actually looking to use the lovely drag and drop feature that New Blogger has. Except the Layout option seems to have disappeared. It's like I've gone back to the dark ages again. And I really don't want to sit here and go through the whole transfer process again and I don't think I should have to - other New elements (such as tags) are showing up. Why is it that I seem to have simply lost the layout feature - just when I wanted it.
Grrrrrrr......
Made corn and cod chowder for the last time this season on Saturday. Once spring and summer hit, it's just not the kind of meal you crave, you know?
Watched Casino Royale and didn't hate the new Bond.
Did my taxes over the weekend. Looks like I only owe $200 instead of $400, so that makes me MUCH happier. I feel like I just 'found' $200!
One of the women over in accounting who walks past my cubicle six times a day to go outside and smoke a cigarette? Said she won $4,000 at the casino over the weekend. On the same machine that doled out $2,700 to her a few months back. Some people have all the luck!
Actually, if I'm to believe The Secret, we all have the luck - it's just some of us know how to better cultivate it. I'm trying. Thinking positive thoughts and trying to attract positive outcomes to me.
Hard to do when you follow up on a job lead to find out that you aren't even getting an interview. But then you come home and hit the job boards once again and see a training position that might be a fit and you happen to know the executive director so you email him to get more info.
'Cause if it doesn't pay at least what you're making now, there's no sense wasting that $0.39 stamp.
Wanted to tweak my template and was actually looking to use the lovely drag and drop feature that New Blogger has. Except the Layout option seems to have disappeared. It's like I've gone back to the dark ages again. And I really don't want to sit here and go through the whole transfer process again and I don't think I should have to - other New elements (such as tags) are showing up. Why is it that I seem to have simply lost the layout feature - just when I wanted it.
Grrrrrrr......
Sunday, April 01, 2007
Is it worth it?
I am taking advantage of Kenna's open invitation to be a guest blogger. I have had the pleasure of meeting her in Boston the past two years. I won't get to Boston this year to run the marathon, so I will have to settle for posting on her blog. Not quite the same, but it is a rendezvous of sorts anyway.
This topic is inspired by a frequent reader / guest blogger of this very site: Sally
This topic is inspired by a frequent reader / guest blogger of this very site: Sally
I was a Cub Scout and a Boy Scout. My brother was too. My sister was a Blue Bird and a Campfire Girl. My dad was a scout master and my mother was a den mother for Cub Scouts and a leader for Blue Birds and Campfire Girls.As a kid, I breezed through my scouting adventures oblivious to the hard work and sacrifice my father made. I am sure my brother and sister would say the same thing. Our parents were involved and it cost them time and effort.
At the Grand Canyon wearing a Boy Scout T-shirt
If you have read Sally's writings about her Girl Scout leader adventures, you get a pretty good idea of what is involved. There are lots of meetings and trainings to attend, there are difficult people to work with, and there are issues that come up with your own child to workout. One does not always know "the answer" and there are loads of challenges, costs, and insecurities to handle.
From time to time, such leaders must ask themselves, "Is it worth it?"
Is it worth giving up weekday evenings and various weekends to be exposed to people you would rather avoid than do volunteer work with?
Is it worth being the "heavy" because it is the right thing to do and having all of the kids hate you?
Is it worth the certain occasional issues that come up trying to balance being a parent to your child and treating them like an equal in the group? You will be accused of playing favorites by some kids and their parents, and you will field protests from your own child that you aren't being fair to them.
I suppose each leader has to answer these questions. These are the things that don't appear in the leadership recruitment brochures.
When adults volunteer to help their children in a group, whether it is scouts or sports, they have a vision in their mind. They have an idealized, Norman Rockwell scene playing in their mind's eye. Then the reality of the setting slaps them awake, but by then it is too late to retreat.
I love the scene in the movie Parenthood. Steve Martin was a baseball coach and he encouraged / made his son of about 8 or 9 play second base. Suddenly, the batter popped up a pitch and it was headed for his son. As the ball flew through the air awaiting the catch, the viewer was given a glimpse inside Steve Martin’s head. It was in the future and his son was receiving a college degree. The son was making a speech and he said, “I want to thank my Dad, for making me play second base.”
Back to reality, the ball came down in his son’s glove, but he couldn’t hold it. They lost the game and his son was the goat. Again, we were given a glimpse inside Steve Martin’s head. This time, it was an emergency scene. One heard gunshots and people were taking cover. “He’s in the tower,” someone said. Then the camera panned over and you heard someone “obviously the son” shouting from the tower, “You made me play second base.”
We imagine one thing but get another.
I can relate to this. I coached baseball and basketball. There were times I really did not want to go to the field or the gym on a Friday night or a Saturday morning or afternoon. It seemed such a sacrifice. My grass needed to be cut. My shed needed to be cleaned out. I had to pay my bills.
I always told myself, "Someday, you will want to see John play basketball and you won't be able to. This is temporary." I was right. John is 22 now. I don't have to go to anymore games. But you know what? My grass still needs to be cut, my shed still needs to be cleaned, and I still have bills to pay.
I know my parents both grew from their experience as leaders. To this day, they both spout words of wisdom taken straight from the leadership seminars or scout manuals. My mother would tell all of us at times things like, "Always finish what you begin." I think that is some sort of Blue Bird motto.
Scouting drilled good values into my head. We recited the scout pledge and the scout laws at each meeting. We took off our hats, placed our hand over our heart and said the pledge of allegiance at every meeting. We learned respect and patriotism.
It meant a lot to have my parents involved as leaders. I was proud of them and they provided another level of security that I enjoyed.
Now that I have grown up and had my shot at enjoying the sacrifice others made for me and making the sacrifice myself, I have no regrets. I think it was because my parents led by example that I felt a certain obligation to step up when it was my turn.
The value of volunteering is immeasurable. It pays dividends from now until the end of your days. I profited as a child experiencing scouts and enjoying the sacrifice my parents made. As an adult, my leadership ability was enhanced by my earlier experiences and I persevered because I had a good example from which to learn.
So is it all worth it? It was for me.
Until the next time
John Strain
Saturday, March 31, 2007
COUGGRRL
I thought calling a woman a "cougar" was a derogatory thing, but apparently this grrl is proud of who she is.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Crisis management.
Why is that once I decide to cease blogging, I suddenly need an outlet to vent?
Kenna, thank you so much for letting me spout off here!
The other day I attended a Girl Scout leader training class. At one point, the crowded room was filled with noise from the multiple conversations going on. We'd been discussing girls in our troops with special needs. I mentioned to the woman next to me that one of my Girl Scouts had been diagnosed as clinically depressed years ago and had tried to commit suicide. This was an eight-year-old, mind you! Anyway, the woman's response was to confess that she, herself, had recently attempted suicide and had just gotten out of some sort of care facility. She concluded by saying it had been a "nice little $16,000 vacation."
I was a little taken aback, to say the least. I fumbled for the best respond I could muster, asking, "You're doing much better now, right?" She said she was but she thought her meds dosage needed increasing.
Today I mentioned all this to Celia, my neighbor/friend/writing partner. Celia reacted with shock and the first thing she asked me was, "Did you report her?"
What? Report her to who?
Celia informed me I should have questioned the woman's position as a Girl Scout leader and that I should have immediately reported what the woman told me to someone above us. We debated this for a bit before, blessedly, the subject changed and we returned to our writing.
But I was so rattled and dismayed over Celia's reaction for several reasons:
1. It seems such a brutal thing to do - to immediately "tattle" on the woman for suffering depression, to question her ability to manage as a GS leader.
2. Why cause the woman even more strife and stress??? And why take away something that she enjoys doing?
3. Shouldn't girls (at least older ones) know that depression is a mental illness that can be managed? Couldn't there be some positives to this?
4. I have an appointment this Thursday to speak with a doctor about my own depression. Celia's reaction, her thoughts on this woman's condition versus her ability to function as a leader . . . it hit home! I wanted to blurt out, "I've been horribly depressed - do you think I should step down as a Girl Scout leader? Are you going to report me?"
It was all very distressing for me; I could barely manage to continue working with her this morning, I so desperately wanted to escape, to go curl up in a ball and cry.
And seriously: if someone had confessed such a thing to Celia in a similar situation, would she have reported her? Or would she have questioned her further, made sure the woman had a good support system in place? After all, troops are required to have a minimum of TWO leaders. It's not like the other leader would stand by while the depressed, suicidal one handed out razors and taught the troop how to properly slice open a vein.
Man, I wish I'd come up with that argument for Celia when she was scolding me for not tattling! I hate that I'm so slow to react, that my clever responses hit me hours too late.
Any thoughts on this? What would you have done in either situation: first the woman confiding in you about her depression/suicide attempt and Celia's reaction? I'd like to know.
Kenna, thank you so much for letting me spout off here!
The other day I attended a Girl Scout leader training class. At one point, the crowded room was filled with noise from the multiple conversations going on. We'd been discussing girls in our troops with special needs. I mentioned to the woman next to me that one of my Girl Scouts had been diagnosed as clinically depressed years ago and had tried to commit suicide. This was an eight-year-old, mind you! Anyway, the woman's response was to confess that she, herself, had recently attempted suicide and had just gotten out of some sort of care facility. She concluded by saying it had been a "nice little $16,000 vacation."
I was a little taken aback, to say the least. I fumbled for the best respond I could muster, asking, "You're doing much better now, right?" She said she was but she thought her meds dosage needed increasing.
Today I mentioned all this to Celia, my neighbor/friend/writing partner. Celia reacted with shock and the first thing she asked me was, "Did you report her?"
What? Report her to who?
Celia informed me I should have questioned the woman's position as a Girl Scout leader and that I should have immediately reported what the woman told me to someone above us. We debated this for a bit before, blessedly, the subject changed and we returned to our writing.
But I was so rattled and dismayed over Celia's reaction for several reasons:
1. It seems such a brutal thing to do - to immediately "tattle" on the woman for suffering depression, to question her ability to manage as a GS leader.
2. Why cause the woman even more strife and stress??? And why take away something that she enjoys doing?
3. Shouldn't girls (at least older ones) know that depression is a mental illness that can be managed? Couldn't there be some positives to this?
4. I have an appointment this Thursday to speak with a doctor about my own depression. Celia's reaction, her thoughts on this woman's condition versus her ability to function as a leader . . . it hit home! I wanted to blurt out, "I've been horribly depressed - do you think I should step down as a Girl Scout leader? Are you going to report me?"
It was all very distressing for me; I could barely manage to continue working with her this morning, I so desperately wanted to escape, to go curl up in a ball and cry.
And seriously: if someone had confessed such a thing to Celia in a similar situation, would she have reported her? Or would she have questioned her further, made sure the woman had a good support system in place? After all, troops are required to have a minimum of TWO leaders. It's not like the other leader would stand by while the depressed, suicidal one handed out razors and taught the troop how to properly slice open a vein.
Man, I wish I'd come up with that argument for Celia when she was scolding me for not tattling! I hate that I'm so slow to react, that my clever responses hit me hours too late.
Any thoughts on this? What would you have done in either situation: first the woman confiding in you about her depression/suicide attempt and Celia's reaction? I'd like to know.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Inspiration
I hesitated doing this because I loved seeing that last post so much that I didn't want to displace it. I get a kick out of coming home, checking my bloglines and seeing that somehow a new post has mysteriously been placed on my blog! Maybe I should get me some more guest bloggers.
By the way ... the iPod? Haven't touched it since that last post.
Oh - hang on a minute. I forgot that my dinner was in the toaster oven and I need to go check on it.
Okay. I'm back. I changed the batteries in my smoke detector and I didn't want to burn the dinner and have the smoke detector go off. I'm shoveling food in my mouth because I have to be at a meeting in half an hour. I'm sure there will be some food at the meeting, but I don't want to count on it, and chances are it will just be nibblies. I'm missing out on dinner with The Man for this meeting, so it had better be good, dammit.
By the way ... the iPod? Haven't touched it since that last post.
Oh - hang on a minute. I forgot that my dinner was in the toaster oven and I need to go check on it.
Okay. I'm back. I changed the batteries in my smoke detector and I didn't want to burn the dinner and have the smoke detector go off. I'm shoveling food in my mouth because I have to be at a meeting in half an hour. I'm sure there will be some food at the meeting, but I don't want to count on it, and chances are it will just be nibblies. I'm missing out on dinner with The Man for this meeting, so it had better be good, dammit.
Enough about Kenna's iPod.
It's been days and that iPod post was still up. DAYS, I tell you.
Let's talk about something else. Like, my eye.
Three days ago it felt like something was in my eye, wedged in between the eyeball and the lower lid. I pried it open and looked but saw nothing out of the ordinary, other than it looked slightly redder than normal.
Three days later, I wake up and it's puffy and I'm a little nervous. What if I lose my eye due to a raging infection of some sort? Eyelid Cancer? Would I choose to wear a patch or get a glass eye? I called the doctor to see if they could squeeze me in and they could NOT. I had to wait until the evening urgent care hours and then the doctor announced it was simply "An Irritation." I'll tell you what's an irritation. Waiting all day to see the doctor, driving thirty minutes to urgent care only to find out the urgent care hours didn't start for another hour, waiting at urgent care for 1 hour, twenty minutes, then waiting in the exam room for another thirty minutes. THAT, my friends, is An Irritation.
He prescribed medicated eye drops, probably an overpriced version of Visine. I can only administer the drops twice a day and they don't seem to help much so, on the pharamcist's recommendation, I also bought some Visine to help soothe the eye. It's become more painful, red and itchy today, but not as swollen.
I've noticed a pattern in my family's health. Every March, without fail, each one of us develops an illness or injury requiring a visit to the doctor or urgent care. My daughter injured her foot early in the month. My husband hurt his back. Then my daughter got the flu. And, finally, my turn, my eye inexplicably develops An Irritation.
What is it with MARCH? I think I hate March. I'm skipping it next year.
Let's talk about something else. Like, my eye.
Three days ago it felt like something was in my eye, wedged in between the eyeball and the lower lid. I pried it open and looked but saw nothing out of the ordinary, other than it looked slightly redder than normal.
Three days later, I wake up and it's puffy and I'm a little nervous. What if I lose my eye due to a raging infection of some sort? Eyelid Cancer? Would I choose to wear a patch or get a glass eye? I called the doctor to see if they could squeeze me in and they could NOT. I had to wait until the evening urgent care hours and then the doctor announced it was simply "An Irritation." I'll tell you what's an irritation. Waiting all day to see the doctor, driving thirty minutes to urgent care only to find out the urgent care hours didn't start for another hour, waiting at urgent care for 1 hour, twenty minutes, then waiting in the exam room for another thirty minutes. THAT, my friends, is An Irritation.
He prescribed medicated eye drops, probably an overpriced version of Visine. I can only administer the drops twice a day and they don't seem to help much so, on the pharamcist's recommendation, I also bought some Visine to help soothe the eye. It's become more painful, red and itchy today, but not as swollen.
I've noticed a pattern in my family's health. Every March, without fail, each one of us develops an illness or injury requiring a visit to the doctor or urgent care. My daughter injured her foot early in the month. My husband hurt his back. Then my daughter got the flu. And, finally, my turn, my eye inexplicably develops An Irritation.
What is it with MARCH? I think I hate March. I'm skipping it next year.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Progress
It's taken me hours, but my iPod is now finally up-to-date, and I managed to get some of my music files back on to the laptop. I had to find a helper application to transfer from the iPod back to the laptop. I suppose that there is a way to do it via iTunes, but I didn't have the manual and the laptop moves so slowly that I didn't want to try to access the manual online and try to run iTunes at the same time. But I do want to give the folks at SharePod a shout out, and my voluntary contribution will be forthcoming.
I haven't uploaded my contacts to the iPod yet - first I need to be sure they are up-to-date (I think I'm close) and then I need to go back and find another helper app that I used (and paid for) once upon a time, PalmPod. All this and I still don't know where the actual Palm Pilot is - I'm just using the software on my desktop.
And through it all I kept getting Norton worm warning messages that iTunes was trying to access my machine externally, even when I didn't have the program running. Evil, I tell you, pure evil. The other thing I want to do is find some sort of workout mix for my iPod. Something that will take me through a jog/walk cycle. I suppose I could try to do a mix on my own, but why reinvent the wheel? I'm sure someone has already put together a workout mix that I can download, even if it costs me a few bucks.
So while I've been messing around with the laptop, I uninstalled IE 7.0. Just didn't like the feel of it. Downloaded the latest version of Firefox and I'm good to go. It's been a productive weekend. And now I have to go home and shovel some snow.
I haven't uploaded my contacts to the iPod yet - first I need to be sure they are up-to-date (I think I'm close) and then I need to go back and find another helper app that I used (and paid for) once upon a time, PalmPod. All this and I still don't know where the actual Palm Pilot is - I'm just using the software on my desktop.
And through it all I kept getting Norton worm warning messages that iTunes was trying to access my machine externally, even when I didn't have the program running. Evil, I tell you, pure evil. The other thing I want to do is find some sort of workout mix for my iPod. Something that will take me through a jog/walk cycle. I suppose I could try to do a mix on my own, but why reinvent the wheel? I'm sure someone has already put together a workout mix that I can download, even if it costs me a few bucks.
So while I've been messing around with the laptop, I uninstalled IE 7.0. Just didn't like the feel of it. Downloaded the latest version of Firefox and I'm good to go. It's been a productive weekend. And now I have to go home and shovel some snow.
Saturday, March 17, 2007
How Stupid Can You Be?
I have several different email addresses, one which I set up to use in conjunction with my (in)famous other blog. Amazingly, Kathryn Kelly seems to think that she has that email address, and she keeps applying for jobs in Long Island:
Date: Sat 17 Mar 2007 01:24:14 PM EDT
From: olasadmin@pnwboces.org
Subject: Jobs Applied Kathryn Kelly
Dear Kathryn Kelly,
Thank you for applying through the Long Island Region Online Application System for Educators!
The districts you have applied to will contact you if you are to be scheduled for a personal interview.
You applied to the following jobs:
Lynbrook
Math - Secondary
3/17/2007 12:24:14 PM
You have chosen to allow all districts to view your application.
Please note that you can re-enter the system and upload job-specific cover letters
for each job to which you have applied. Click ''Manage My Jobs.''
We appreciate receiving your application and wish you success in your job search.
Sincerely,
System Administrator
The Long Island Region On-line Application System for Educators.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Copyright © 2006 P/NW BOCES. All Rights Reserved.
http://www.pnwboces.org
This is not the first time that I've received such a notice. You would think that Kathryn Kelly would get a clue the first time she tried to access this email account and discovered that she could not, in fact, log in.
I wondered if it was just spam, but I've gotten the same notice several times, and it only happens with this gmail account, so I suspect this is a real reply.
If you know Kathryn Kelly, would you please tell her to use another email address when applying for jobs on Long Island?
Thank you. Thank you very much.
Date: Sat 17 Mar 2007 01:24:14 PM EDT
From: olasadmin@pnwboces.org
Subject: Jobs Applied Kathryn Kelly
Dear Kathryn Kelly,
Thank you for applying through the Long Island Region Online Application System for Educators!
The districts you have applied to will contact you if you are to be scheduled for a personal interview.
You applied to the following jobs:
Lynbrook
Math - Secondary
3/17/2007 12:24:14 PM
You have chosen to allow all districts to view your application.
Please note that you can re-enter the system and upload job-specific cover letters
for each job to which you have applied. Click ''Manage My Jobs.''
We appreciate receiving your application and wish you success in your job search.
Sincerely,
System Administrator
The Long Island Region On-line Application System for Educators.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Copyright © 2006 P/NW BOCES. All Rights Reserved.
http://www.pnwboces.org
This is not the first time that I've received such a notice. You would think that Kathryn Kelly would get a clue the first time she tried to access this email account and discovered that she could not, in fact, log in.
I wondered if it was just spam, but I've gotten the same notice several times, and it only happens with this gmail account, so I suspect this is a real reply.
If you know Kathryn Kelly, would you please tell her to use another email address when applying for jobs on Long Island?
Thank you. Thank you very much.
Let It Snow
What a pleasant surprise to see that post from Sally! I had given her (and a few other folks) guest blogging privileges when I went on vacation in November and I just never took away their access.
I'm with The Man and we are snowed in for the weekend. One of those lovely late winter storms that dumped 10" overnight. I was expecting weekend guests but the weather caused cancellations so I just came up here last night. I figured if we were going to be snowed in, at least we would be snowed in together. I'll try to post a photo, although with all this snow all you would see is a lot of white. And that's assuming I could get my camera to download.
I'm hoping to work on my laptop today. It's been a year and a half since it worked properly and I was planning on just using it as my iTunes server. Of course, it only has a 20 gig hard drive and a 2001 processor and probably not enough RAM, so no wonder that thing came to a grinding halt. I'd like to get a new one but a) the aforementioned lack of desire to be a Vista guinea pig and 2) I owe $400 in taxes so it's not likely I'm going to have the jack to plunk down on a new computer any time soon.
But it's all good. More later, I'm sure.
I'm with The Man and we are snowed in for the weekend. One of those lovely late winter storms that dumped 10" overnight. I was expecting weekend guests but the weather caused cancellations so I just came up here last night. I figured if we were going to be snowed in, at least we would be snowed in together. I'll try to post a photo, although with all this snow all you would see is a lot of white. And that's assuming I could get my camera to download.
I'm hoping to work on my laptop today. It's been a year and a half since it worked properly and I was planning on just using it as my iTunes server. Of course, it only has a 20 gig hard drive and a 2001 processor and probably not enough RAM, so no wonder that thing came to a grinding halt. I'd like to get a new one but a) the aforementioned lack of desire to be a Vista guinea pig and 2) I owe $400 in taxes so it's not likely I'm going to have the jack to plunk down on a new computer any time soon.
But it's all good. More later, I'm sure.
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