Jumping and hopping and changing.

I've pretty much abadoned ship here.

Mostly because the MBA is finished and I'm still a lunch lady. I'm working at changing my status, but really that's who I am.

Regardless, if you'd like to see where I've gone, you can follow me to my other blog. http://www.eggday.blogspot.com/

It started as a means to tell people about a monthly brunch project but it's turning into my food and life blog.

Hop on over. Thanks for reading me here. I'll be keeping this one up for a bit longer until I can file the content somewhere else.

Peace.

Summer where have you gone?

PHOTO BY: ONE FROM ROME

I've been basking in the low stress glow of the summer.

Well I don't really bask, I fret when there's no stress. So I suppose I get wound up about the lack of directed stress in my life when I've got little to do. Some would say that is certainly not basking. But it's been nice on some level.

And it's not like I have little to do. I've lists, but they are complicated and created by me so there's a certain amount that goes unenforceable. Like without outside pressures of say a boss or a teacher I can happily put off doing what is unpleasant in exchange for something more pleasant, say reading a book or playing brain numbing computer games. That's such a confession. But as a virulent anti-TV type I keep the "Things you Should have Learned in History" pod cast going in the background. Keeps me from feeling like I'm wasting too many brain cells making groups of three or four gems come together.

On my list was get a new job this summer, which I haven't done. I've applied for some and interviewed many times for one, but they didn't want me. I didn't want them either, but I wanted the experience of the process, which I got.

Write a book was on the list too. I've got started on it, but it's stymied. I did train and run/ride the Muddy Buddy. I did start Egg Day, the Brunch Project. It was wildly successful. I'm still all a titter about the experience. I want to create Egg Day The Musical. I kid. Who'd watch a musical about food? Food movies are rare enough.

I am very excited about "Julie and Julia". I read the book a few years ago.

And I'm thrilled about the trajectory of Julie's life. I'm also heartened by the renewed acclaimed Julia is receiving. And mostly what I love about Julia's story is that she was in her late 30's before she discovered her passion for cooking. She was even older when she discovered her personal niche. There is hope for me yet. Also, my name is Juli and still now when I go to country stores, truck stops, or even the little boutiques that sell trinkets if there is a rack with key chains or pencils or cups that are personalized I always look for my name. Of course I pretend to be looking for the daughter's name. If I ever found one with out the "E" I'd snatch it up in a minute. I never do, and I'm saved the embarrassment.

However, this is about summer and it's nearly over. I know, really we have until the end of September to call it official, but stores are selling back to school items and I'm making plans to start another fall where I am-at a school-as a lunch lady. And I'm not really as disappointed as I thought I would be at the prospect.

I am self starting a proposed state community garden on our grounds. I am restructuring our department to reduce spending. I am being considered for a promotion here. And I am learning all kinds of interesting things about the Turks, Cleopatra, Thomas Jefferson and the Golem of Prague.

350

So the book query thing is making my head swim.

Actually the query is good. I found a title. You see it up there 350. There's more to it...but yeah for that.

I was tasked with creating the pitch-what's the 3 minute version of my book. Why would someone want to buy it? For inspiration? To see where apathy, misogyny, and an overstocked pantry will give your child while your dropping acid or swilling Pabst Blue Ribbon?

I'm also tasked with finding other memoirs to read to find some comparisons. That's not too arduous as I'm reading tons these days and loving it!

The problem is my timeline. I thought I'd be further in the process than I am right now. And then I recalled reading somewhere that everything is possible if you have a long enough timeline. To me that means stretching this out a bit longer than a few months and that is okay.

BTW, 350 is the typical temperature for baking/cooking in an oven. The book is about a cook's way out of the kitchen and away from obesity. Managing my tumultuous relationship with food while getting a grip on my personal value and finding surprising amounts of joy in the process is part of the synopsis.

There you go, a not so well thought out posting, just some ramblings.

Leadership and Professional Development

PHOTO BY: heretakis

I think I took a class once with that same title. Actually probably I didn't, but it's catchy.

Today I was talking to my boss.

He's a nice guy. I know the kiss of death for a man to be called nice. They liked to be called funny, btw. That's what all the magazines say. Any way, I asked boss man if there were any special projects he'd like for me to take on in July seeing as it's a slow month at the school. He thought about this financial database thingy that the state uses and suggested that I get comfortable with it. Kind of like a back up to his brain for tapping the resource.

That's all well and good and this girl can poke around databases and do that kind of thing, and she will but it's not my thang. While boss man was talking he mentioned others in his business office area (he's over operations, and I'm still the lunch lady, so read that as SO not in the business office) would have less of learning curve than me with getting intimate with the database.

I retreated to what I know best.

I asked him what the professional development plans looked liked for those folks and if he couldn't align his desire with a backup brain with someone else's desire to garner more responsibility. We of course got massively side tracked talking about performance evaluations and other such things, but really that's my sweet spot and all in all it was an awesome conversation.

I will learn the database thing, well because July is boring and it's learning and it will look good on the resume but really, snooze.

So if you are looking for advice from this post, I don't have it. Other than, don't tell your boss no, unless she or he's being ethically reprehensible but also know your limits. My biggest triumph really with this whole conversation is seeing that HR, training and development, really is where I want to invest my time. I've been making peace with that for a while now. Having it crystalline is helping.

Oh, as for the peace part, in business school, they say HR is where they stick the failures who can't directly contribute to the bottom line. I think that's a bit out of date, but it's biased my thinking for far too long. I want to be a coach. I want to help people realize their potential. I want businesses to flourish, and that will happen when brains are engaged and people are happy. I can do that.

Sometimes I Cry

Photo by: Mike Ingalls, my step dad.

I had reason today to move the file which contained this picture. I hadn't looked at it up close recently. I mean this is the photo I use as my standard 'before' shot, so I show it once or twice a month to people. I don't really look at it much.

I sent it Gabbi, she's a weight loss surgery girl too with a statement, "Sometimes I forget".

I do.

I don't really forget, I hope I never do. But sometimes I just worry about daily stuff like money and childcare and what to make for dinner and the reality of my weight loss is floating around in the back of my head.
Then I saw this picture today and sent a note. Moments later I was lacing my shoes to go for a three mile run. I run.

That girl in that picture there, she runs.

That's monumental. So much so that I cried. Where else do you but emotions of relief and joy and sorrow and gratitude? I hope I can capture just mind blowing that is someday, because it is. To go from being there to here has been amazing.
It's not just about accomplishing the goal. It's about understanding that one can do whatever it is that they want to do. If one takes the long view and breaks things down into manageable pieces. Oh then not giving up. There's so much more to this.

What I spend my money on

PHOTO BY: Tribalious

So here's the thing. I'm living closer to the bone, as it were, since I've graduated and had plastic surgery than I did while I was a student.

There was a little cushion with the student loans when I was receiving them and I wasn't trying my hardest to pay off my debt like I am now. I could try less hard to pay it down, but I'm sure I'd just fitter away the extra hundred I keep back. So I pay and I worry.

I would like to not touch the $100 so I don't fret that I'll over draft my account, but I can't not touch it. I'm amazed how much I need something, be it a piece of pork loin-literally-on sale or a new set of markers for the kiddo, when I'm not down to my last penny.

I know this doesn't bode well for a debt free life. Or maybe it does.

I just need to budget every penny.

When I was too busy to take on new ideas I'd list them in my planner for a later date. Well that's now, this is the later date. I'm checking them off here and there and others are in the thinking stage. Perhaps that's what I need to do with my spending. Stuff I want to buy when I have the money needs to get put on a list for later so I can get it out of my head.

That list:

A bed and new frame that's not broken.

A refrigerator that doesn't leak copious amounts of water. I would not be surprised to find my refrigerator in the basement, haven fallen through the floor.

Flowers for the yard.

A new windshield for the car.

A host of home repairs.

An iPhone or the new Palm.

A pile of new make-up.

More clothing.

What I am spending money on that cost more than expected or was a splurge:

Dwarf hamsters and their accessories. Who knew that would cost me $135?!

A new laptop, the old one has lines through the screen and it viral infected. Sort of. It's going to the kiddo who put the lines through the screen by being mobile with the thing.

I suppose some of the clothing I've been buying is unnecessary. I really only need 5 pair of shorts and a few shirts, but that seems sparse even for me, the girl with out much wardrobe.

I can't say dinners out or unnecessary shoes. I'm not doing that at all these days.

And before I get crap for poor mouthing, I'm not saying I'm the working poor. Working 3 jobs and still unable to cover my bills. I'm saying that it stinks to worry about money.

I think this is a study in motivation toward getting that next job.

What do you spend your money on? Do you feel okay about your spending personality?

Eschew Obfuscation-or-Keep it Simple

PHOTO BY: emborg

Dear me, I hate it when people get wordy.

Don't get me wrong, I love the language, but when people drop a 10 point word in their conversation, I feel like I'm being tested.

I typically react with "you're a dumb ass". Well not out loud but in my head, then I've lost all respect for the person. It's over. I suppose they really don't care if I respect them or not, but that's how it works for me.

Respect is key.

If you don't have mine just go on with yourself. It's going to take a while for you to regain it, if ever. I was at a workshop of the lower levels management, the bottom feeders, where I reside, when the facilitator kept dropping the giant words, quietly. Then the custodian supervisor who is a bit long in the tooth, who couldn't really hear the the man and his big old words would say, "Excuse me" the man inserted a simpler, more humble word in it's place. This happened over and over again. I was insulted. I wrote a bad evaluation. Oh, the scandal. I'm writing about it now. It impacted me.

Then there's a flip side to this. Jeni, my dearest friend, and I play the 10 point word game where we drop a big word then the other person finds a simpler version and tosses that in for clarity.

Always gratifying, I mean, fun.

If you are self promoting when you should be promoting someone else, teaching, or lifting him up, stop it. They are disengaged and no one thinks you're awesome.

To Thy Own Self Be True

PHOTO BY: notsogoodphotography

I was asked today if I thought being interviewed for a new job was fun or terrible. I asked if those were my only two choices. I am want for doing that. Give me options A or B and I'll ask if there isn't perhaps C or D. It's what I do. The GF pointed that out. But she's also the first person to ask me a series of A or B style questions. It's how we got to know each other. And yes, it was she who asked the "fun or terrible" question.

I find it fun.

I'm an odd duck, perhaps. And fun isn't the most accurate word but I have this odd confidence that has always been a piece of me. Stepping into a room and telling someone how I could potentially rock their world really is like a trying on new lipstick colors. I can imagine myself in whole different contexts in which I don't typically function. I'm a dancer, no a CEO, no a movie star. I get to purse and smack my lips and otherwise show off. Plus there is no sweat on my nose if the color doesn't work. (At this point I'm still gainfully employed, if that were to change perhaps my nose would sweat.)

I do have some interesting talents that I can show off.

I mean I'm no management ninja, but I've been around and I love big picture stuff. I can tell you my weaknesses oops, I mean opportunities and how I surmount them. I can site examples of bad and good situations. How I've been shot down and misunderstood and I can paint rosy pictures of my learning and the benefits to the organization. I'm that good.

I just really don't want to go and look for a job. I'd like the perfect one to fall into my lap. Don't we all? What has me scratching my head is that looking is akin to work. I don't mind work. So I don't know where the disconnect is happening. Well, yeah I do. It's coming to me as I type.



I don't know where to find the job that I want. I know what it is. It's coaching and consulting. It's getting results in a big way, not fixing simple problems. It's having measurable impact, and by measurable I don't mean reducing labor costs by 1% but by kicking ass and taking names.

Oh that's ugly. There's a reason why they say, "don't write with cliches." I want to hold you down by the throat and make you accountable? I want to show you who is boss and never let you forget it? No, I want to take your knotty issues and I want to help you find elegant solutions of which make you proud.

So now I'm pondering the question, do I work at creating Julianna: The Industry (JTI) with more earnestness while attempting to cipher out my place in the job market or do I dive head first into the job market and back burner the JTI.

And kids, I think I just named my business.

Well not really. I need to come up with something that is active and catchy that equals JTI, "Julianna: The Industry" will be our little inside joke. Share your ideas. And really I think earnestness is going to win over back burnering it. Feel free to weigh in on that as well. All both of you.

What makes a memoir?

PHOTO BY: idealism

The genre is memoir. The good news is that there are many resources on how not to stink at writing one.

The bad news is that I need to find a way not to be preachy and not to be boring. I think I can find that way but it's a skill that needs honed. Yeah, people I know all skills need to be honed. Have you seen my portrait painting? No, no you haven't because while I can paint a little like there's a bit a raw talent that was genetically gifted me, I've never taken the time to hone the skill.

My sister's art rocks.

I can practice writing.

But upon a little more introspection, I've missed a glaring but very important piece of the last five years. What's funny is that if you just even look at the titles of many of these entries they are often about my friends. Well, when I had that "you've got to change you're life" epiphany many years ago another thing aside from losing weight and going back to school 'was cultivate new friendships'.

When the divorce/separation/split happened I lost many friends. I suppose by definition they weren't much in way of friends. However I was very isolated. I had one or two who've been with for decades but ouch. I was very alone.

So I sought me out some friends in a very managed, structure, strategic way. And don't all go getting your feelings hurt. It wasn't like my feelings were insincere. I wasn't just collecting people to call my friends, but when I made a connection, I really tried to nurture it. And I plotted to find people with interests that would expand mine. I found me some cycling friends, some wine drinking friends, some pulse on current culture friends, some weight loss surgery friends, some mommy friends and low and behold some you had the same career/education path as me friends.

They are the tri in the trifecta of what has made my happiness happen. Or I made happy and the friends swooped in. I don't know which came first but regardless they are monumental.

So the question, all SATC (sex and the city) style, do we get what we want then become attractive or to we make ourselves attractive then people find us? And I don't mean I'm cute now so I have friends, but what comes first opening ones self up to new the possibility of cultivating relationships or finding the relationship and cultivating it?

Regardless, my buddies have all been instrumental in giving me the support and encouragement and a side helping of pragmatism that has done more to foster my success than anything I could have created on my own. And that was I believe the missing piece to how I write this thing that I so badly want to write.

So thanks.

Style

Photo By: Capture Queen

I found my style while shopping this past weekend in Chicago, I didn't buy anything but that's beside the point. It is no small feat for a woman of 41, who rarely dressed for occasions, who would shop just to cover her body to figure out what works or not works. I mean I could tell you what I didn't like, but that's about style.

This is about style, comfort and fit.

This is about me wearing the clothes, not the clothes wearing me. About feeling good about how I look. Apparently I like to wear tight pants. Who knew. I'm not talking about lay down on the bed to button them pants, but I like um snug. I'm amused.

I like clean lines with some details. Nothing too frilly and certainly nothing that looks too trendy. I equate trendy with cheap. Trendy does not equal current. There are current things that don't look cheap which I like. If you were wondering. You probably weren't but some people do.

I've talked more about clothing my new body with more people than I care to recount here. You might find me vapid if I actually sited numbers, time spent and content of those conversations.

And why are you still reading about one woman's shopping victories? Because there's something in the narrative which is emotional, logical and analytical, and those are the pieces of decent story telling.

Emotional: We all struggle to feel good in our bodies. Part of that is how we look, and part of how we look is how we dress. When that falls apart our emotions get all jumbled.

I am not the first woman to cry in a dressing room at Macy's.

Logical: If you've been following my story, it makes sense that I'm newly discovering how to dress and how to shop. Ms. Deirdre is the oldest of three girls and knows her way around a clothing store and how to build relationships with the people working there. I'm learning from the master. And because I'm soliciting every woman I know who has a bit of panache in her style I'm learning 1. Women can talk shopping; 2. One must hit all kinds of stores in the off chance you'll find a piece that works; 3. Finding the piece is what the shopper's high is all about. It's makes all the searching and trying worth the effort.

The progression: Lose weight, shop for new clothing, look hot. It's a girl's dream come true.

Analytical: Really this is more than just clothing a body. This is about watching someone discover things taken for granted and having a new found appreciation for what you already know. Women more than 20 years younger than me figure this stuff out. Is it like watching a baby learn to walk? Perhaps not as profound, but it is along those lines. So here I am dressing myself, "look momma I tied my shoe!" walking tall and proud. You too can remember learning to tie your shoe, learning what works on your body type.

You can and walk tall beside me.

And yeah, we'll save the world next week. I get that this is shallow on one side but it's deeply relevant on the spectrum of awareness and presentation and how we build relationships, which is fact, the point of it all.

Picking Up Pennies

PHOTO BY: dawnzy

See a penny

Pick it up

and all day long

You'll have good luck.

I actually stopped in the middle of run today to pick up a penny. It was near the end of the run, I had been thinking about the whole penny picking up thing today, and there it was all gnarly and chewed up, but I had to stop. I didn't want to be a hypocrate and I didn't want to miss an opportunity.

Once I thought there were only two camps of penny picker uppers. Those who did and those who didn't. I hadn't realized that there are actually penny pitchers. Not pinchers, but pitcher-like thrower awayers. My heart skipped a beat when my friend who remains my friend told me she will throw pennies away. I hope now she'll stop or at least throw them out the car window so someone who finds them beneficial can maybe pick them up. Yes, I'm advocating littering, but littering with value. Even if it is only a penny.

I obviously pick them up.

I know they don't carry much value. One can not find penny candy, but I see them as little pieces of opportunity. Like if you are so busy or so beside yourself with importance to not pick one up, then you will be too inwardly focused to see other opportunities that present themselves to you.

That touches the theory of do we manifest opportunity or does plop on a plate in front of us? I think it's a little of both. We are all just a lucky happening that we got born, but what we do with it once sentient and somewhat on our own maybe 20 years later is a whole lot of work on our part and the parts of those who kept us from dying when we were growing up.

At any rate, seeing the penny and stooping to pick it up is more about reminding myself to keep my eyes open and making room for possibilities. It reminds me that little things have value and that regardless of how wealthy I hopefully become (and don't think that's not a goal, it is.) I mean how likely will the universe send me something meaningful if I choose to be oblivious to the little things or think I'm too significant to care about a penny?

And Deirdre, I still love you. BTW, I'm renaming all my friends for The Book. And no, you don't get a say.

Talking Stuff as in Junk

Photo by:Laughlin

Have I said this before?

1. You are what you say you are. If you say you're smart, people will find you to be smart. It's a cool way to manifest your own reputation. I suppose you can't go around calling yourself a super smarty pants all the time then do idiotic things because then you'll look like you're not very self aware or you've got a bad grasp of meaning of smart, but the point is people will believe about you what you say about you.

2. "I'm a mess" or "I'm the worst friend ever!" things like that which are not so subtle ways of taking the pressure off yourself for your own perceived short comings also will get you a handy label. A very adept dude I know, someone whom I look up to, calls himself a mess regularly. Sad really. I'm wondering if I shouldn't be looking up to him. Like where's this mess hiding? If I get closer will I be called in to clean it up?

The worst friend ever comment really lodged itself deeply with me. I was nudging a friend for a little conversation and she was sending all the signals that her life was a bit hectic at the time, so I backed off and got my nudging on with other people. When her work load and life hassles lessened she showed up saying things, "I'm sure you think I'm ignoring you" along with the "worst" thing. It gave me pause and I thought, "No, I thought you were busy. It hadn't even occurred to me that you'd ignore me on purpose. You ignore people on purpose? That's pretty stinky. That's something a worst friend might do. You are a person who ignores her friends and doesn't even know the value of friendship! Whatever have I been thinking? Out with you!"

Then I got my real voice in my head the one that's been tempered by actually knowing this woman and knowing she'll say those kinds of things and hope for a filter. I filtered. I love her to this day. But it's a drag to have to filter. And I'm doubting the value of the messy man. They would do all of a favor if it stopped. And who knows how many people have been alienated by that negative language?

3. Then there's this positive transference thing too. Say something good about somebody to a third person and they'll put those attributes on to you. Like to Mary, "Brenda is so generous and creative." Mary will think you are a generous and creative person too. It's weird and there's science behind it. If I were the kind of blogger that actually kept notes while they read I'd have a link for you. Someday, someday.

But the point is:

Use this stuff to better situate yourself in the world. 1. Define who you are or want to be and act that way. Tell people you're all that too. 2. Don't do yourself any misfavors by talking junk about yourself. Enough people want to drag you down, you need not add to it. 3. Say something nice about other people. If the transference thing doesn't motivate you, think of it as good karma. Kind words will get you some kind words.

And whoa Nelly. That's all advicey. Game on.

Throughout

Photo by: Sheila Tostes

I really thought I'd be back to life sooner than I am.

I thought I'd have this surgery business behind me and I'd be pouring out the words of my experience. Hard to write about other experiences when you are busy having an all together new one that takes up all the room in your life.

Recovering from 8 plus feet of incisions and having your skin all pulled tight is an experience.

Holy Crap. No one told me it would lay me out like it has. I'd not have believed them if they had. Liar, liar pants on fire. But there's not going back, only forward. So tally-ho.

Oh, and my recovery is going with out much of a hitch. I'm doing better than most, so go figure. I'm just a not so fat big baby.

But on to other more important news.

The Book.



Well I've concluded that the book isn't going to be so much how you can do as I've done with charts and lesson, a how to guide to getting off your ass, but more how I did what I did and it's made me appreciate joy and happiness and living my life.



And I'm going to write it in huge run-on sentences like the one above. No I jest. I won't end sentences with prepositions either. Well maybe I will, but that's just to be conversational. My father always said and probably still does, but we don't talk much these days, "I can do nothing about" when asked to influence a situation that was out of his control. I always would mumble, "it, you need to add an it."



Anyway, next week looks incredibly less busy and I'm hoping I'm feeling incredibly more well so I plan on getting some words down in regard to The Book. Go me.

Photo used under Flickr Creative Commons License.

People Posts

I was looking at my list of things to write about. Yes, I have a list. Well a few lists. If you knew me you would not be surprised. I could chart out my lists ala Excel but that would be just too much for you.

People

Anyway, one of them is titled "People Posts" and it's just a list of some of the people who've influenced or touched my life in poignant ways over the course of the last few years. Of course if I were to list it out here there would be an outcry by those thought to be overlooked (I have visions of grander) but more surprisingly I smiled as I reviewed the names. It was a while ago that I created it. Everyone still deserves their place but some of the sweetnesses have slipped my mind, seeing their names again however brought the kindnesses and memories back to me.

So here's the thing, of course they will be in The Book, which will be the working title in this blog, but I believe names will need to be changed to protect the innocent. Or really to keep me from having to fish for permission from each and every one.

What will I call who?

Sabrina? Tina? Tracy?

As I think about that, let me say near to the top of the list is someone whom I'm not related to nor do I sleep with that has been the single most influential woman I've met in the last 10 years. We met on line. She's had the same weight loss surgery as me and we met on a site that caters to that segment of the population. We have a similar sense of cynical humor and view food from the exact equally screwed up perspective. We also share a love of cycling and rarely found commitment to keeping our word. She's got more integrity than I can measure.

Aside from that we are ends of the spectrum. She's 20 something, I'm 40 something. She's married (to a freaking man no less) with kids. And I'm queer, divorced, sharing a kid with another woman and in a long distant relationship. She goes to church and I go to brunch. She's republican and my fingers can hardly type the word.

Daily

We send emails everyday. I keep up with her family details...her boy just got glasses, and she keeps up with mine. I can't imagine the last two years without her constant voice rattling around in the back of my head. She has inspired me and told me to quit my whining. She's been the voice of reason and has granted me permission to wallow.

A mere suggestion from her or a full on taunt had me partnered up doing the Muddy Buddy last year and we are signed up again for this summer. Yes, I'm bitter, but deep down she makes me a better person.

There is a point to this, and I'm getting there.

There are too many silly stories to share here and this is sappy even for me, but needless to say, no one journeys through life alone. Lucky are those who find kindred spirits and lucky are we that we live in a time when two people in different states can come together and make real live friendships that two people living as neighbors would rarely ever create.

And look at me loving my friends in yet another post. Insipid, I know.

Getting Back to Regular

Photo by: ms. Tea

It's after midnight and I'm feeling little pain because of narcotics. Funny I choose to write, because pain medication does little to help me focus and contrary to what it may seem I do focus a bit when I write. I try.

But ahhh...insomnia induced by a pot of white tea has me up past midnight sitting at my laptop with Pandora playing happy tunes and blogger open. This feels so close to regular I could cry. It's been a minute since I've felt regular. Insomnia, music, and words. I'm making lists in my head too. I've missed that so much.

Why?

I've been skinned alive and stitched back together in the most humanely way possible within the confines of what is medically ethical and it hurts like a mother. After massive weight loss the lucky ones of us sign up for massive body reconstruction. I am as gratified for my life and opportunities as I am in pain. Which is quite a lot, if you haven't yet caught on that ouch, this hurts.

Meaning I feel fortunate to:

have lost the weight

afford the plastic surgery (or finance it)

have a job which allows me ample time off
to be fit enough so as to recover without issue

But what I feel even more fortunate about is the outpouring of support and love from the people around me. Folks offering to shop for my groceries, put my kid to bed, mow my lawn, buy me dinner, taxi me about...I knew I had a circle of good people. But seeing it manifest so tangibly makes my heart grow a size or two. Thanks my people.

So regular is good.

Plans are good. Moving forward is good too. And yes, there are many posts to be written. I'm so excited to be getting back.

Photo credit http://www.flickr.com/photos/teagrrl/ by use of Creative Commons on Flickr

Friends

Photo:terren in Virginia

I freaking love Brunch

It's a shame that not all my people read this here blog because all my people are asking questions and sending me well wishes for the upcoming week. I want to tell them all, "Of course I'm anxious and I indeed appreciate your kind thoughts." Now don't mind me if I go into hiding for a few weeks. You'll get a call to let you know I made it through the surgery. Promise.

But talking about my people and this coming week and my past week there was a epiphany of sorts. Many people know that I've been busting my butt to lose weight, it's dramatic and visually obvious, thanks for noticing. This coming week's surgery, where my skin is going to be retrofitted to my now smaller body, is a product of that effort.

Last week I finished my MBA. Many people know about that too. Thanks for the cards and the "congratulations" and yes, I am very proud of myself. I too can't believe it's finally over.

But the third thing of which I'm equally proud of is that during the years I've spent in school and losing weight I actively went about cultivating genuine friends too. Not networking in a plotted way, but making existing friendships stronger and creating new friendships where before there was a void.

I love you, my people.

And then there's this happiness thing. I've been reading Gretchen on the Happiness Project which is amazing and gives me more good ideas than anything else I come across. You should read it too. And there's also This I Believe which a while ago talked about cake on Fridays as a standing tradition. I can't find the actual story. But it spoke of community and love and cake and family. What's not to like about all that?

Well, now school is done, my home is happy, my life is moving in a crazy new directions-I'm scared I'll lose old work friends if I don't put something in place. I have few traditions from my childhood but I actively work to give them to my daughter, I love cooking and can't eat nearly all the wonderful things I enjoy making, which tied to a happiness project got me thinking about brunch.

HAPPY BRUNCH

I'm going to have a monthly open house brunch to make happy with my friends. Yeah, this is going to have to wait until after I recover, but it won't wait too long. There will be food and joy.

I love cooking, tradition and friends. I have the time.

I'm going to have to put this in email, to my people, so they will show up. But I thought I'd put it here too well, because why not?

Would you like to join us? You're welcome. Just bring some eggs or juice or bagels or something and a some happy conversation. We'd love to have you.

White People

Photo By: A National Acrobat

My head hurts.

I'm at that spot where I'm at a loss for words. Well no, there are always words but my thoughts and what I'm thinking aren't coalescing neatly. I can't spit them out like I'd like.

Here's the back story.

I'm the white half of an interracial couple. No, I don't expect that to get me any awards, but what it does give me a little up close observation on the affects of race on us. I'm also a lesbian. Again I'm not looking for any acknowledgement of being different but in the journey of figuring it out, and it did take some figuring because it's not like it was assigned visibly at birth, where people could instruct me. As in, "Girl, you like the girls. That means the dirt covered ones, who like sports and swagger a bit are going to curl your toes. What you need to do is...."

But when I did find my like minded girls it was, dear god this is cliche, in a Women's Studies class at college. Whatever, bring on the revelations, I don't care how cliche they may be. And it was in that same class where I was introduced to the concept of privilege.

Privilege as a concept is some heady stuff.

Mind you this spawned a long and dark period of humorless political correctness which was all the rage at the time too. We are talking circa 1988. But some things took hold. You know, things such as really looking at the power dynamics of most uncomfortable situations. As I've matured, and I have, I can actively choose to act or not react to what unfolds around me. I can label and analyze and decide where I might have impact. Then move or not move. But usually, not being shy, I move.

At any rate there's all that. There's also Womanist Musings to which I subscribe because she's genius. (Just read it and get your mind blown.) Who clearly and recently brought to the forefront of my thinking again, that if you ain't it, then shut the hell up about who they might be. She was talking about a trans person. If she feels she is a she, then who is anyone else to say otherwise. No one else walks around in her skin. Call her she/her/hers. It's not complicated. It's not mine to determine. It is hers. Period.

Period. That's for emphasis.

So to tie this rambling together I encountered a white woman today who took it upon herself to define just how unblack another person was. She used ridicule and snarky language to deride this person and how she chose to represent herself. And I did use my words to say, "touch not", which is very ASL, and that she was out of line, in English, but white woman continued. Not Black Enough Woman was mean to her, thus it was her excuse to shred her apart.

Actually, call Not Black Enough Woman all kinds of things that were pertinent to the conversation where mean things were said. But do not ever, feel you can define what or who someone else is. Because you can't and to assume you can or that you even MAY is just the height of privilege racist ego.

Did I say this hurts my head?

Now what pisses me off more than not being heard when I said "shut up" is that I don't think I can encounter white woman again without explaining the whole house of privilege, again, which won't sink in, again, and I'm going to have to write her off. I explain things twice; a few times if you're paying me to, but otherwise if you can't get it we're done.

I'm disappointed.

Writing Soon

Photo: Pingu1963

It's Wrapped

I've not posted in some time because I've been busy wrapping up school. As in finished. Done. Poke it with a toothpick and the batter will be set, only crumbs sticking to it. The internal temperature of the pork is well over 160. It's done. I'm refraining from saying the juices will run clear, because that's just too nearly sexual. And school was many things, but sexy it was not.

In good blog fashion I should say what it was and expand on that but it's too soon. It's a degree that says I put my time and perhaps learned something. That's where I'm leaving it now.

Since finishing school I went to the library and got books. I read "Eat, Pray, Love" by Elizabeth Gilbert on the flight to and from Las Vegas this weekend.

Me and My Ego

At one point before having read it, I said out loud and to someone I know, "I want to write the next EPL book." Oh, the arrogance in that there statement. It's a profound piece of writing which gave me chills and had me taking notes. I think the note taking has everything to do with my recent 5 year stint at the university. Regardless, I'm a few years behind the masses but wowzers. It was awesome.

And my ego needs a check.

Well maybe not, because while I find it funny that I could say what I said, my original intent of why I want to write is the same. I just want to tell my story and maybe inspire someone to make changes in their own life that will lead to their own personal happiness. Kind of like if I can pick myself up and change two very fundamental things about myself which caused me all kinds of pain, then maybe someone else can too.

The point is to not live in pain and fear but to live in joy.

And there are ways to really master that. Which while I'm no master I've been collecting tools of change for decades and want to share them.

Not here, not now, because well, that too deep for today's little post.

But if my book only gets in the hands a few people, then that's okay, because it will be what it's supposed to be. Here is where I straddle the line between wanting EVERYTHING to be the best possible thing it can be, hoping for some serious return on investment in many ways like EPL but also knowing that the return need not mean dollars and probably won't. (But dollars would be awfully nice.) Because the intent is in the writing not in the selling of the book. Also, I know good intent doesn't equal good book. Good intent still can leave a mess.

It will all shake out.

Because everything always shakes out, right? There is so much to plan for. The writing time is quickly approaching. I'm excited.

EPIC? Me? Go on. Really?

Photo: Darren Hester

I read this post by Charlie at productive flourishing. He's a genius. http://www.productiveflourishing.com/do-epic-shit/

The concept is amazing. Well not really, the concept is pretty much, do big things and get big results. Don't do something small and work like hell to make it look big. Start with EPIC as the mind set.

I thought what's so epic about little ol' me? Well frankly everything and nothing at all. I mean day to day, I'm a regular woman. I go to work, feed the children, love my people, work with my body, grow my brain. I think most people do a smattering of that. I'm not so special.

There's been a whole lot of change in the last couple of years.

But the everything part is that oh, about 6 years ago I thought the only way out of my then situation was for someone to die. Either me or my partner at the time. I was 34 and thought I was waiting for the end of a life so that what I really wanted to do could start. Isn't that so sad? I'd stick a frowny face in here if it weren't so cheesy.

Mind you I didn't want to kill her, nor did I want to die, but really, the thought, "Is this what I get?" saturated with disappointment about who I was and how I felt made me take stock, and say I can change this.

So I broke up with her. Big move, I realize.

We had a one year old.

That was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. Breaking up with my partner meant that I would only have my child with half the time. What's EPIC about that? We are co parenting in a very collaborative, healthy way. The girl child's best interest is our ultimate decision question. Answer that and we are good to go. A lot of ego and hurt feelings has gotten set aside so we can do what is best for her. Girl child is the light of our lives. She fills our hearts and we are all happy. Also, ex's mother is among my dearest friends, to this day.

Then I decided to go back to school.

Because now I was single and had a mortgage and only one income and a child to raise. The three jobs I was working still wasn't enough money at the end of week. I was making decisions about what bills not to pay.

School was a way out economically, but it was a long view solution. It also was an answer to "How you can you stop hating yourself for never having gone to college even though you have very, very good explanations for not attending?" Going back to school to get an undergrad then a graduate degree at age 40 is EPIC.

Then I lost weight and in the process found a connection to my body.

Around 2006 I found out about lapbanding as a weight loss solution. After some soul searching I got on board and had that done in 2007. I've never looked back. I did my best to exercise and eat well. I looked at the opportunity as once in a lifetime chance to get regular so I worked it from every angle. I'm regular now and it's great. Losing 174 pounds is EPIC.

The collection of learning and people I've made along the way has been amazing. The shift in how I view the world, my potential and even my little brown house has gone from primarily negative to absolutely positive. And that is EPIC.

So what's that got to do with Charlie's post? How to take the humble story of me with all that gold and get it out there. I'm working on it. I suppose it's that book thing idea I have, that I don't want to talk about too much for fear of putting a whammy on it. Whammies and Hairy Eye Balls* dictate a lot of how I operate.

*Also known as the Evil Eye.

Photo:http://www.flickr.com/photos/ppdigital/

Freaking OUT

Photo:Perfesser_bear

I don't usually say I'm scared and burst into tears.

I don't usually reveal that kind of stuff in the space either.

What's going on with me today?

I'm just a few weeks away from graduating from school. I've been at it for 5 years. I do deserve to get done with it at some point.

Add one more week to that and I'm getting parts of my body lobbed off. They are parts I don't want, not like an arm or anything. It's my excess skin, but really it's still mine and it's going to be costly and painful and disruptive to my daily flow.

I'm scared of all the changes.

Oh and they are happening in close succession because I'm a master with a Gantt* chart and I typically make things happen with pretty good timing. A few months ago I considered this good timing.

* I heart Gantt, I read his biography, and I don't normally read biographies.

There's a trip to Las Vegas in during the weekend between the two major life changing events as well. Yeah, I'm that good or that crazy depending on your point of view.

So after I burst out into tears, my person, who knows me pretty well, went on to ask about the surgery recovery. She playfully stated that by the end of the six weeks I'll have my coaching business up and running and my book written.

I said, "You think you're being funny, but that's kind of the plan."

She said, "I wasn't being funny. I know that's how you operate."

There is no mystery to me.

And really, the plan is to be enrolled in some coaching certification program before then and to solicit agents for the book. Which means writing bits and bios and outlines and comparing like books. Also doing research on the coaching programs out there. Who knew there were so many?

But also cool, saying things out loud, to people like my on-line professor, such as, "Executive coaching is my ultimate career goal" got an offer to hook me up with someone she knows who is doing it for real, locally.

So yeah, Julianna doesn't have a plan past the end of May and she's freaking out 8 different ways.

Photo:http://www.flickr.com/photos/perfesser_bear/

Life Lesson

photo: by lu_lu

There was a woman in my life for many years.

She's moved away, but I love her still.

She was crazy.

You know the kind of crazy that can hang on to a job because it's union and she had the art of apology down really, really well.

And actually she contributes amazingly to any community she is involved with. There's a small town in Alabama wondering what the hell is hitting them, as I type.

We worked together in the cafeteria. I am a lunch lady after all. Actually I was her boss, and like I said, I was on the receiving end of a few apologies but this isn't about that.

There are shops she can't walk into for having lost her temper and basically calling out the injustices she witnessed. Only later with the clarity that only distance and time gives, would she concede there was probably a different point of view at play. But the recanting of those stories always made for a good laugh.

This is about minding ones own business.

Tending to ones own home before poking their nose in other people's houses.

Why this and why now? Well I'm a lunch lady and I'm also a person who has had weight loss surgery. Someone on the message board I post on was talking about other people watching what she eats. I suppose people watch what I eat but I'm a little too busy to really be that involved watching people watching me.

I'm a little mean too.

Well, not mean, but direct. And there is a perfect line from Ms B which rolls off my tongue regardless of the setting. So I suppose I do notice, but that's only after someone makes an oh so inappropriate comment about my nutritional selections.

It goes a like this: "What I eat, you don't shit. So don't worry 'bout what's on my plate." I have uttered those words countless times.

You can join me too. That goes for the vegan, vegetarians, bacon eaters and anyone who has had to deal with anyone policing what you stick in your mouth. Claim your plate and your choices and tell people to get busy taking care of themselves.

photo:lu_lu

Eggs and Networking

Photo Link: VirtualErn

You never know who you might meet when you walk into a room.

I came across a familiar face today in a training session at work. We don't have many training sessions here and there's a pervasive idea that they are optional, so I toyed with the idea of not going. But I'm at a point where I'm doing my best to tune in and stay connected and giving my agency my all.

There is something about working hard until the very end and/or trying everything so when I walk away I can say I tried. Makes me feel good.

But low, it was when I read the "howdy" screen and caught the name of the facilitator/instructor I got excited. I knew him, knew his work. He was one of the first presenters I came across in my career who made me think, "I want that job."

He's that good.

He's James White. (Bad link! another thing to talk about!)

At break I reconnected with him. There were other touch points where we've hit here and there so that was easy. But then and here's where Juli is wearing her big girl panties and projecting her value...I started talking about what I could do for him.

(I could have put a picture of big girl panties at the top which might have been more provocative, but really I see them as big white grannies that can get hitched up high, there's confidence in knowing your butt is covered.)

We are going to meet and he's going to share his experiences, which are vast and valuable to me. And I'm going to kick him in the butt on social media and other ways to make more money.

Mentor meet motivator.

We are going to have eggs.

Having eggs is my favorite way to have a meeting with a person because:

I can pick up the check because it's the cheapest meal of the day.

I do my best in the morning.

They don't get sidetracked with other obligations until later in the day.

And we all have to get back to work so there are finite time allotments.

I'm so completely stoked.

Photo by:http://www.flickr.com/photos/dongkwan/VirtualErn

Bring it on, Mrs O

Mrs O is one of my favorite blogs. Certainly the First Lady is much more than a style icon. She's smart, professional, compassionate, fierce and by all means a delight to have representing women of America.

This isn't to dismiss the fact that she's being unpaid to do her job, and it is a job, to support her man, and our country, to be the woman in the White House. But if someone has got to do it, I'm happy it is her.

While reading this happy piece of blog talking about her necklace there was conversation about the designer Binns and his opening a new place in NYC in this economy. I love the bring it on mentality he has.

You know, if you're going to live your dream, do it. It's like I double dog dare you to get in my way. How can anyone come across that and not be inspired?

And I get I'm all happy for someone who is creating couture items when most of the world is hurting, but none the less, I love the attitude.

Show Up

Getting caught up on the RSS feeds in my Google Reader inspires me. I'm not talking about the numbers going from 43 to 0 but reading all the cool and useful and interesting stuff out there.

I'm freakin' awestruck.

It's not that any single voice is daunting or spell binding -though fantastic all of them are- it is the collection of thought, the sound reason, the motivation spilling off the page that has me sitting agape.

I feel particularly special to be in the same orbit as these folks. I feel like I fit in too. A blogger, with words and thoughts I want to share. I'm struck that the invitation is always standing, always open for people to join in the discussion and take away the pieces that may work.

Which leads me to this theory

There is always a party happening and one can always attend. Just don't show up and be an ass. Even if you think you might not fit in with the crowd, you'd be surprised. The people at the party want to meet you too. Again, if you leave the ass behavior at home, and be genuine and open, you'll have a good time.

Let me share an example of when this happened in my real life. Being super morbidly obese I typically didn't feel comfortable in the gym. There are oodles of people there who are fit and perfect and I was obviously not. But part of the plan to get from where I didn't want to be to where I wanted to be included working out. At a gym.

So I went.

People weren't horrible. I went more often and I wasn't an ass and actually pretty quickly a circle of people chatted me up and shared their stories. Come to find out these perfect people have been some of the strongest most encouraging voices along the way. I may have never found out the Brad Pitt look-a-like really digs Cross-Fit if I didn't ask what the he was doing. (And now I love it too). Barbie may have never gone a run with me but I asked her if she would, now I have an occasional running buddy. We talk about returning to college later in life. I would have never guessed.

Maybe because they see the work I've done or maybe because I speak their language and made an effort to connect or maybe because people are decent and they are looking for people too. I don't know I'm just happy I tried.

There are other parties happening else where too.

So you want to learn to speak publicly. There's Toastmasters. They've got a system. They'll let you play. You want to learn to golf, learn astronomy, or pottery? There are people out there who's passion is just those things and they will share with you and call you friend. What do you have to do? Show up.

Showing up is the hard part.

We tell ourselves that we aren't good enough, smart enough, skilled enough, or heaven forbid, we say we are above these lowly folks. That's the don't be an ass part. If the first group of folks aren't your people and there are many reason why they might not be, there are others who potentially are.

Go find them. They are waiting for you. Well, not really the party isn't going to comense when you walk in the door. It's been rolling along, they are having a good ol' time without you.

Certainly, if you show up they'll share with you what they know.

Time to Rest

When all is going as it should do you start looking for trouble?

I do. Well I used to and it's a habit I'm trying very hard to break. It takes some effort to say, "You know, I'm allowed to have easy. It's going to get hard in a minute so take the break while you can."

But as soon as I exhale if I'm not careful I start finding new things to do. I'm resisting it. It's hard, but I am.

I have Ms Black getting all coachy which is amazing and seems like the perfect fit for her. I'm so stoked to see what her model will look like and how freaking cool it will all come to be. I assure you it will be amazing because she has that touch.

But the my take home message is "what are you waiting on?" And really the answer is graduation in 5 weeks, huge surgery and weeks of recovery and then the plan to write as have it established. The coaching gig for me will come later...but I've the itch.

Also, I have people coming into my office, closing the door, asking me if they can be my test customers (read free advice) and if I can help them figure out what to do with their lives, husbands, and jobs. So the word's out that I've got the skills. I just don't have the structure or the time to commit.

It's not time, it's not time, it's not time.

Do you like the mantra?

So I'm trying to rest on easy. School work is low key right now. It's stuff that I love. Succession Planning. Oh, planning. Planning excites me. Corporate planning and skill building gives me shivers of delight. So I exaggerate, but still it's the stuff I love way more than say accounting.

There's all kinds of incredible things and happy off beat stuff happening right now. There are connections that are wild which I can't even put words to. I'm at a place where I just kind of want to receive instead of produce.

That is new.

That my friends is an epiffy-rockin-ee.

Today I decided I was finished being ill. I decided last night actually. And I had pretty much turned the corner so it’s not like I didn’t have logic on my side.

I set my alarm clock to get up early enough to do Shiva Nata take a shower, wake the girl child, pack lunches and get off to school and work for the day. When it went off I debated hitting snooze, but sat on the edge of the bed and got moving.

It went amazingly smoothly. I didn’t touch it last week, so I was surprised and a little annoyed. I hadn’t planned on spending much time doing it and it looked as if I was going to have to linger with it until it got hard. But no, I love the DVD feature to hop ahead. So I did and I started messing up and all was right with the world.

Namaste and all that good stuff

The girl child was easy to deal with this morning, which is a crap shoot.

The lights were all green on the way to work.

I saw a good friend on my way in and we chatted.

People were delightful and said good morning.

My birthday earring has been found

It will be returned. This is huge people. I’m not a thing person and the loss of this earring reestablished why that’s a healthy way to be, but I’m happy to have it back anyway. I swore the GF to only buying me cheap jewelry from here on out. Well aside from wanting The Ring. I share the princess fantasy with my peers, don’t judge.

I got positive feedback on my resume.

I applied for a fancy job which I am more than qualified to do. I feel good about this mainly because of the all the green lights this morning.

I’ve asked a well respected professor whom I bicycle with to be a reference for me and she said she’d be delighted.

I’ve worked out and my abs are hurting in a good way.

Oh and there’s so much more

I’ve got serious ideas about how the me and my obesity illness can coexist in my body. There are thoughts on shared imagery and fantasy of fat people and then some differences in eating disorders. There are thoughts on the celebrity of going form 350 to 150 (that’s pounds) and how people are swarming me again. And that’s quite a reach, calling myself a celebrity and them swarming, but it feels like that so I’m using it.

Also, I found some rocking Reggaeton on the iPod during the workout. Don’t you love when you find something you forgot you had?

It’s really been a good 8 hours so far.

My daughter, a pain in the butt.

My butt hurts.

Like really I have a pulled muscle in my left butt cheek. It is from spinning.

I'm sick, with the flu, and when that starts I get insane like I'm going to work out like an idiot and sweat out the the illness. I don't even know if I'm working out harder, I know I'm sweating profusely but that could be from a fever. I could be delirious thinking I'm Lance freaking Armstrong on a spin bike while in reality I barely turn over the pedals. But my body hurts so yeah, I probably over did it a little.

It doesn't help, I'm still sick. If you were in class with me you are probably are starting to feel a little scratch in the back of your throat. It's hot, we were breathing hard, you know it's just a germ's incubating dream.

My nose hurts now too from too much blowing and I'm miserable

My poor little girl found my last little nerve as we walked through the grocery store and she jumped all over it, again and again and again. I positioned her. You know what I mean, I kind of put her in a spot, not roughly, but I was done using my words because they weren't connecting. And the kid, who has never been hit ever, well not by me, I'm not vouching for kids on the play ground, she said, "Don't punch me!"

What?

I looked around frightened someone might have thought me an abuser, we were alone, I then was aghast. "Who punches you?"

"You do."

"You are out of your freaking mind."

I don't hit her but I will call her a liar or apparently tell her she's crazy. I do threaten to beat her, which isn't funny if you've ever been beaten but she typically counters with, "Why would you want to hurt my body?"

Answering, "to make you listen to me" or "to teach you a lesson" just doesn't roll off the tongue when you've just been reminded that hitting someone actually hurts their body. So that just ends the mess.

All of this is just weighing on me. Being sick, having a literal pain in the ass and the girl-child claiming abuse at my hands, oh and a paper that feels awkward due tomorrow, on a day I just want to do other things.

Well one other thing.

I found a position I want to apply for. It's going to take some in depth research. I'm capable of doing the job, but I've got to get up to speed on the agency's mission, history, board of directors, etc. You know stuff to be jazzed (how's that for some old school lingo) about. I expect I need to spend a solid 8-10 hours learning. And that stokes my fire, well normally it would but I want to nap. Really I want 9pm to arrive so I can go to bed.

Oh and the position, which I don't want to talk about too much for putting a whammy on it, is a Directorship which is quite a jump from Lunch Lady. I'm confident, but there are some fears of being an impostor. I know I'm dismissing all the transformations and not looking at the updated version, Julianna 4.0. It's fine I'll muster through it. Just now, I'm not feeling wonderful.

Fiddle Sticks and Other Grumblings

Managing to get stuff done while I'm in a fog always surprises me.

I feel like I'm in a fog most of the time. I get stuff done too, almost like auto pilot. Almost. If I just wasn't aware of the fact that something is missing it would be perfect.

I am one of those people who starts the day with a to do list and I also look back at the end of a day or a weekend to say, this is what I accomplished this is what I missed. I really try to look back over the day with an appreciation, not a whip. Most times I find I'm doing just fine.

But not exceptional.

It was easier when I didn't realize exceptional was an option. It was easier when survival was the key objective. Now that's covered. I went from survival to learning how to learn. Which has it's benefits and it will serve me for the rest of my life. It really did come to a surprise to me that there were institutions and lives spent in the creation of passing on learning. (That's another post.)

Now it's creation time.

What?

It's not a matter of what to create. That would be a revenue stream that has me doing what I love in a non icky way, which is helping people realize their potential. I want to help individuals and groups, alone and together. I want to write, I want to speak, I want to be valued, and I want to perform. (Not artistic actor - perform, but surpass benchmarks and set new standards - perform.)

And it's not a matter of having the confidence. One might ask, "Julianna, what makes you think you can do that?" and the answer is "because I can" and "because I do".

S0 what is the matter?

Oh, the matter would be how to get from my utter and complete reliance on a stable paycheck and cushy state benefits to pulling it off.

A girl needs a plan. And that's what I'm good at doing, making plans that is. Closing the gaps between where one is and where one wants to be. I'm good at the execution part too. But I'm not good at the waiting part.

I need to wait.

There are things to do between now and then, so waiting won't be entirely in vain, but oh, oh, oh I want it all and a I want it now.

Alas, I'm just whiny and discontented. I'll get it all, just not right this very moment. I'm sure there's some learning I need to do before it happens anyway. But fiddle sticks and other grumblings.

Bernie and Katrina

Okay, I don't want to pretend like I'm suffering. I know people who are and I follow the news, people are hurting.

And it's not because I'm so affluent that I'm beyond all the stuff that happens to the little people. Actually it's quite the contrary. Well not exclusively contrary.

I'm not scraping by poor. But I used to be.

I was a poor 20 year old like many kids sent out on their own, but I was also brought up city-white-poor. It's a lot like city-black-poor, or country-white-poor. Really, I easily and accurately call myself a child who grew up in a family of the working poor. Race and place and irrelevant. We have our ways of dealing with and being dealt with by society.

I continued the legacy, except I was exposed to academia and brain shaping thoughts from the outside, not by actually attending college. I knew it sucked to be me economically and I knew why.

Vegetarian Restaurants and People Who Work at Them

I worked in a vegetarian kitchen for over a decade which employed many earnest young teaching assistants looking to supplement their income by waiting tables or literally slinging veggie hash.* You know the types, the kind that are new to teaching and are on fire with theory? Well bless their poopy little hearts, I was exposed to all kinds of gooey, chewy academic concepts. Of course most of the kids (I say that but I was about the same age, well for the first half of my tenure there) were liberal arts folks. It was a vegetarian restaurant, after all.

Privilege was a topic of conversation often. I had a knock down drag out once justifying the fact that I bought my house, that I was privileged. This from a recent college graduate who thought having her parents pay for her education was a inalienable right. And while home owning is certainly a privilege and I'm grateful for the opportunity, I've scraped to have it.

And I've continued to scrape.

It got better for a heart beat then I went through a separation, or divorce, or whatever you call it when gay people split. But I went from living in one house, two incomes, and three people. To living in one house, one income and me and a half of a child, or a child half the time.

My goal was to save my house.

I worked three jobs and cut out everything. No internet, no cable, no cell phone, little money for groceries, rice and beans, you know the drill. The working poor. Actually, as I see it, when you can't work another hour in the day and you still debate which bills you will not pay that month. You are the working poor.

It has gotten better again. But I'm not part of the investor class, nor are my parents and siblings.
Apparently they're getting beat to hell right now. No, I'm not snickering. I didn't even know they had a name for them until I was polled this past election season and answered "no" to that question.

Today on NPR they were talking about those simple folk who got duped by Bernie Madoff. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bernard_Madoff and I know it stinks to lose your life savings but the sympathy pouring out my radio reminded me of the sympathy for folks who actually LOST EVERYTHING with Katrina. And as the journalist said, "Mrs so and so is able to stay in her house but she doesn't have money to give her grown children." I thought give me a break. There are people who never had it to give to their kids. There are people who lost what bits they had and are still suffering the after affects.

So rock on lower middle class.

What a good place to be. I grew up in a way where I had to learn to value myself and those around me for who we were, not by our possessions, or we'd never have gotten out of bed. And you know that pile of money that never got saved? Well there's no one lined up trying to take it from me either.

And, Katrina sufferers, I'm still sorry.

*And no, I won't share the recipe. I've gotten away from recipe sharing and there are many resources out there for that.

Arbitrary Passwords and Brazil

I really should be writing a paper right now about leadership’s role during project management cycle.

No wonder I’m distractible. Snooze.

I’m nearly finished with school so you’d think I’d keep doing the good until I was finished. I probably will, but right now at this very moment I want to share a chuckle and some other arbitrary stuff.

“Random” would have been a perfectly acceptable word for arbitrary, but I’m on a one woman crusade to eradicate it from the current lexicon. Cats and Dolls, it’s on its way to being one of those phrases, you know the kind that absolutely dates you. Whatev.

Passwords as humor

Recently, I had to call tech support for my AT&T internet service. When the fella asked me what my old password was I wished it was something super nasty. I can’t even type some of my favorite nastinesses here. I’m scared for my precious reputation. But somewhere along the way I read something funny about setting up horribly inappropriate passwords just so when you are in such a situation you can make the call center worker either laugh or die of embarrassment. Regardless, you’ll have impacted their day in a memorable way. Call center workers can use some memorable impact.

I suppose having “urvoiceizsexy” would be funny too and less vulgar. Or “imnakednow” could cause a stir.

My unfounded love of all things Brazilian

I’m not talking about different depilatory styles here people. I’m talking about that South American country. I'm falling in love with country for no real reason, aside from it looks like an amazing place and the music speaks to my heart. And by music I mean traditional and contemporary. I'm on a kick.

I found a native Brazilian woman living in my midst and I’m going to use her to learn Portuguese. She doesn’t know it yet but I will charm her with my wit and baked goods and promises of free child care if she’ll talk to me. What an offer!

I love learning languages and what better language than Portuguese? You ask why, I ask why not. The point is to collect languages because I grew up in a house where people were not native English speakers. They spoke English to each other, but it was their secondary or tertiary language. I learned ASL easily (sort of, in a jacked up fashion, but it works for me and my needs) because my language acquisition receptors are wired like a kid who was exposed to languages early. Go figure. It was German and Hungarian, btw.

Happy Endings

I was struggling to find resources to pay for my extensive and painful plastic surgery I really want to have.

At one point in the conversation yesterday I was discussing with the GF that I do give decent messages. I’m not averse to giving a happy ending either (I actually am, and she’s really the only “client” I’d want-we keep it interesting) if it would put more cash in my pocket.

But fortunately after some finagling, and a tax return later I think I can manage to have surgery, buy groceries and keep the electricity on in the house. That’s a happy ending indeed.

Okay, back to project management. Remind me to tell you about my resume exercise project I did with the help of a good friend. I’m more awesome than I originally thought I was. Perhaps really I’m just more insufferable.

Peace my Lovelies

Thumb Sucking Fear

Plastic surgery is only a few weeks away. Well so is graduation.

Job hunting in earnest isn’t that far off either.

Yikes

I’ve been tasked with the challenge to create a resume. I need to do it. I’ve been working on it. I need to work more on it. I’ve got to brainstorm some ideas too. I think I might ask some of my nearest and dearests to help me flesh out ideas, flesh out ways to put into words the fabulosity which is me.

I’m a group think is better than not a group think kind of girl. And my fabulousness is hard to quantify in a way that will make me stand out for said new career.

Isn’t that funny? New career? I don’t even know where I want to point myself for this new career. It’s hard to craft a resume to a generic audience, but necessary. It’s even harder to hone my awesomeness in a pointed way to the job which I don’t know exists which I should be able to say, I’m the best candidate ever because, xyz. There’s some frustration with that.

Frustrations keep me from digging in deeply and getting to core of things as quickly as I’d like. I suppose they wouldn’t be frustrations otherwise huh?

I wish I knew some HR types, well I suppose I do. And I know there are templates out there for this kind of thing, but I’m a build ideas up from the ground kind of girl. I do see the value in redesigning the wheel. Well sometimes.

And this is one of those times.

I started this talking about surgery.

It’s the plastic kind. I want to make a comment about recycling plastic, but can’t, I’m not having fun thinking about the surgery.

For those of you who don’t know, I’m 175 pounds lighter than I once was. I have this curious looking stomach that needs to be removed. The surgery is going to be long and scary. The recovery is going to be long and painful. I’m not so vain as to want to do long, scary and painful just to look better. This is a means to moving more freely and happily. This literal shedding is important.

Ew, ew, ew. I think I’m having an epiphany or recognizing stuck. I want to pretend I’m not doing this for vanity reasons, but that’s a big piece of it too. I think I need to sit with that and make that okay.

Damn, now I have to work on that.

About graduation or completing the degree; I’m done at the end of March, I walk in May.

That’s scaring me too. I seem to be scared all over the place. Maybe I need a sanctuary. But having the free time not doing school work is worrisome for me. You know they say idle hands to the Devil’s work. Oh the carnage I could commit. I’m pretty effective at getting stuff done.

I know, make my own plans, not the Devil’s or anyone else’s and fill the time doing things that propel me forward. It’s just it is change. And change is hard. And I’m changing all over the place.

And I want to curl up in a ball, suck my thumb and stay in bed until mid June. That will be okay, right?

No? Okay.

Time to enlist the friends; they make me feel better.