presidential awe

this is, hands-down, how I like my politicians and my president:

as the quirky, thoughtful, smart, next-door-neighbor-type who can make the most ordinary things seem f'ing awesome

and

simple, understated, to the point, and open to an eight-year possibility.

I still can't believe how good it feels to have to correct myself in my own thoughts when I think about bush, when I get to say "former president" in front of his name. I don't groan at and/or block out news about the federal government and international relations! it's like a huge mental weight has lifted!

I know I can't be too in awe, or too optimistic. I know I have to be a realist - I've studied government and know how long it all can take. but it's amazing how even a simply change in inner dialogue can help my mood and my view of the world.

just thought I'd weigh in, since I hadn't said much since the election...

two seconds of courtesy

january 4 marked month fifteen (15!) of holding down a part-time and a full-time job. month fifteen of sitting in a dark office, trying to avoid most of my co-workers for 37.5 hours a week. month fifteen of playing nice with quirky customers who can't tell me what kind of granola they grabbed in out of the bulk bin. month fifteen of working all but (maybe) one day per month, without guaranteed weekends or time for good sleep or travel.

month fifteen of ignoring my degrees and my extended family and just "working."

this realization built slowly in december, until I left both jobs crying in one week and had a panic attack at my favorite bar.

I don't really need the double-income anymore. I think I have finally come to grips with paying back my $50k in school loans. I think I can finally manage my money without being anxiety-stricken at the end of the month. however, I continue to show up to both jobs because I tell myself that they are a compliment to each other: one pays me very little but provides some needed social stimulation, the other pays me more than can intially be expected for someone with my degrees but keeps me cut-off from my peers.

I could survive on the latter, I tell myself, if I saw my friends enough. but I can't seem to make or keep friends without the former, nor can I afford to hang out with the ones I already have without its supplemental income. but I can't bring myself to quit either outright.

so what do I do?

I spend my spare time as a possibility junkie, hooked on the idea of another degree, another career, an artistic lifestyle, or a ticket out of the midwest. I know I can't pick up and leave like I imagine I would, but I can still manage to fantasize on the commute. friends say I need to maintain the search for something good in the present, but I'm too busy commuting and working and making up new lives or excuses to do it.

in the meantime, I've resolved that I need to find a job where people spell my name right. while they haven't added the "e" to the end of my name on the roster at the store in the fifteen months I've been working there, at least they know how to spell it when they leave me notes or reference me in emails... except that I don't get those emails because I don't have an email account... because the first time they went to set it up (four months ago), they dropped the "e" and have yet to fix it.

and today, my boss's boss at the university didn't add the "e" to the end of my name of an official letter she drafted for the dean of the school of engineering. a letter I had input on, and even corrected my name in (in both the letter and the email to which the letter was attached!), earlier this week. how hard is it, when I give you all the necessary tools, and/or when you hit "reply" on an email, to notice this? really?!

I'd like to say that neither of these slights to my second "e" matters. that I could continue to pretend that I am valued for all that I can do at either job simply because they want to keep me around and they tell me that I'm wonderful at them. but I would be lying to myself.

two seconds of that little courtesy - two seconds in the roster spreadsheet in excel, or two seconds of double-checking in a reply - and I would keep plugging along at both jobs. it would mean that someone noticed and gave a shit.

at the end of this work week, I've got homework: my résumé.

open salon

just a note:

I have another blog through salon.com. I am not giving up this blog, for it is my personal communication with those who know about it. but I thought I'd give blogging out in the great-wide-open a try. when I post there, I will also post it here, since y'all should be reading anything I put out there for the masses. I will also continue to post more personal things here.

look for the tag "open salon" at the bottom of my posts to see if it's been double-posted or not. or, come find me out there: carolinwonder

happy 2009!

my new yardstick

I was nine when my mom attended her 15 year high school reunion. for my mom, a single mother without much of a social life at that time, this was a rare event. I don't know that she was especially excited about it, but I think she was curious and that was enough for her. to my knowledge, she hasn't attended one since that summer - more out of lack of interest than anything else.

at that age I still envisioned high school as the point in my life when I earned the title by which I would be known. forever. my peers and I would be defined and that definition would guide the rest of our lives. I was still watching afterschool specials wondering about my first kiss and envisioning dances with big dresses with even bigger sleeves, and making magic moments at lockers. these are the important things at the impressionable age of nine.

so when I anxiously asked my mom if she had fun at her reunion, I was mildly disappointed when she flatly stated:

it wasn't that interesting. all the girls got prettier. all the boys got fat and bald. otherwise, everyone stayed the same.

I wanted to hear more! I wanted stories of rekindling a crush over the punch bowl! and about class awards! and pranks! and dancing! and other people's lives! and all of the other things that really mattered!

regardless of my childhood disappointment, I held that quip in mind as I navigated and graduated from high school. would I really get prettier? would all the boys I crushed on get fat and bald? would everyone stay just as they were? (even what's-her-face, who hated me??)
ten years later, in these months leading up to my first official reunion, there are less surprises than I had hoped. not because people didn't live up to or exceed what I had expected, but simply because I know more about those people than I should. social networking websites have allowed me to forge all of the same alliances I had back then (which is sad in its own way) and have basically allowed me the early preview of what I am going to see this summer. while I am slightly saddened that I already know so much, I realize that this is a consequence of putting my information out there and internet-friending so many of these shadows of friends.

my friend meredith and I sat on my couch before going out on new year's eve and together discussed this phenomenon. we are both satisfied with pieces and parts of the lives we've chosen: we are both unmarried, without children, in transitional jobs, and still experiencing high-school-esque social drama from time to time. we've moved about the country with a certain amount of wanderlust and only occasionally stop by our hometowns. with a certain amount of reassurance, we realized that though the people we used to know once made up our peer group - whether in primary school, high school, college or beyond - many are no longer our true peer groups. in those cases, their lives filled with things opposite mine (and/or hers) and cannot therefore be the yardstick against which we measure our lives.

thanks to sites like facebook, my reunion will be less of a surprise. but thanks to real conversation and real friends like meredith, I think I am more prepared for the moment . I am finally learning how to separate myself from that defining mentality. despite the availability of the yardstick of 1999, I am judging myself less by the standards of my 18-year-old peers and more by the standards of those actually around me.

I may still be trying to decide if I'm headed in the right direction overall, but at least my measurement is true.