Littera Scripta Manet

Job Hunter

2011-04-07T11:13:00.000-07:00

I was laid off two months ago. The company I was working for was purchased and the buyer saw my position as redundant. My first reaction was anger and disbelief. After three and a half years in a place, devoting my time, energy, knowledge, and every part of me that I could to a job that I hoped would repay in kind and have it not pan out hit me like a cinder block in the chest. I took a few days to process it, pulled myself up by my metaphorical bootstraps, and got on with it.

Part of getting on with it was reminding myself that even though I was tossed out the door, I did have almost four years of experience being an admin. assistant. That job gave me a variety of experiences that I’m glad to tout on my resume, or an interview if I should be so lucky. I’m an excited and devoted employee, any company would be lucky to have me… if I could just get that far.

My goal in the past two months has been to apply to a new job, or do something for my job hunt every weekday. For the most part I have been successful, but often times I get disheartened by the feeling that I’m continually sending resumes into a vast abyss and getting nothing back.

I have had the good fortune of getting to interview with four companies in the last two months, and as of this post have been told “thanks but no thanks” by three of them. The thing that frustrates me most is not not getting any responses to the resumes I send out, but the length of time between the interview, the day they say they’ll tell you their decision, and the day that you actually hear back from them. I would prefer they tell me as soon as they know so I can get on with my search rather than continue to delay the inevitable and keeping my hopes up. No one likes to be the bearer of bad news; no on benefits from delaying. As a mature and professional candidate I will accept your decision, maybe I will be disappointed, but life goes on. That’s the beauty of the modern age and the invention of email. Most if not all job seekers will have an email address, and what a perfectly painless way for the company to deliver the news?

Letters

2010-08-31T08:44:00.000-07:00

I forgot to send my grandmother her birthday card. I’ve become too busy to drop a card to my grandmother two days before her birthday. Most family members I send an e-card to them right around the day of their birthday is cheaper and more earth-friendly that way. However, it is also further proof to me that the art of letter writing is dying.

I have actually been thinking about this a lot lately. With my purchase of an iPhone, my parents learning how to text message, and emailing sometimes being a faster way to get a hold of some one than calling them we are more connected than ever these days. But the passion seems to have fallen out of those communications. It’s everyday and mundane, but we love it. Call me nostalgic, but I like going out to my mail box to find more than bills and junk.

When I was in high school I had a few pen pals. People I’d met at different functions and wrote back and forth with about monthly. This was in the late ‘90s when internet was starting to become a normal thing in the American household and I could have just as easily written emails back and forth but it wouldn’t have been the same. There’s something that goes in to sitting down and writing a letter to some one: picking out the stationary, what pen you’ll use, what you are and aren’t going to mention. There is so much more effort in that then writing 140 characters or less about your morning coffee. And really, if you think about it, not many people care about the mundane day to day things that we do in our life. In fact, there’s a line that we cross all too frequently in our over connectedness.

I’m not saying that I want to go back to a day when letter writing was the main form of communication, I would just like to revive the hand-written word. It shouldn’t be a dying art, but sadly it is.

Respite

2010-08-12T08:20:00.000-07:00

When I arrived home last night my house had changed from Pepto-Bismol pink to a relaxing sky blue. I never realized how much I hated that our house was pink until that transformation occurred.

Hubby and I moved in to our current home about two and a half years ago. We bought the pink house on short sale because the house was great and all it would take was some paint to change one of the few things we didn’t like. A quick fix. Time, as it always does, intervened. More important things came up between moving in to the house and present day that the exterior color of the house became less a priority. Finally, with the wood siding exposing more of itself, and the shabbiness of the pink paint becoming more apparent we booked a painter.

The thought of changing the feel of the exterior completely nearly made Hubby and I giddy as we walked in to the paint store to face the overwhelming wall of paint chips. It took us half an hour and thirty or so paint chips held under various lights to decide between two colors. A light true-blue and a light shade of blue-gray. We took home sample sizes of each to paint on the side of the house. After a week at the coast, and realizing we live in Oregon where the sky is a shade of gray for most of the year, we decided on the light true-blue or “Respite”.

It’s true that if you change the color of something it will illicit a different reaction. Now, when I pull into my driveway and look up at my house I don’t loathe the look of it. I look at my home and my shoulders relax a little and as I pull my car in to the garage I begin to enjoy my respite.

The Gym Synthesis

2010-07-14T08:34:00.000-07:00

What I’m about to describe to you feels vaguely pretentious. But I tell you, it’s as far from it as we can get. I joined a gym in the beginning of March, a month away from my birthday when I always feel like I’m getting old and I need to do something drastic. I realize joining a gym isn’t a drastic change in a life, but getting my butt off the couch and to that gym on a regular basis is. Anyway, everything is going great I’m getting to the gym after work 3-4 times a week for the most part and I am physically feeling a lot better. But at some point I realize that I can’t just keep going in and doing the same thing over and over again because I’ll get bored and stop making all of this progress so I sign up with a personal trainer.

Already, I feel pretentious to mention that I have a personal trainer. It seems that only movie stars or people with a lot of money have a personal trainer… and there’s a good reason for that. Personal trainers can be quite expensive. Somehow I talked myself into employing the services of one because I am not a gym rat and left to my own vices likely would make much slower progress. My personal trainer, who I will call JT, is a 19 year old all-star football player type but a genuinely nice guy.

When I started up with JT he asked me what my goal was, I said I of course want to lose weight, but I want arms like Michelle Obama. He just smiled at me in a way that made me wonder if he knew who she was or even what her arms looked like. I’m sure he would have carried on his marry way if he did or not. So the basic plan for each one hour session is I come in and we work on a muscle group (arms, legs, or core) until I’m utterly exhausted and unable to further use said muscle group.

Yesterday it was arms and shoulders and as I’m struggling through a third set of incline pushups he declares “It is my goal for you to do a full push up.” I can’t help but think, “Well, good for you.” I have never in my 28 years done a full push up and never really had any goals to the contrary. And then I am suddenly aware while doing weight assisted pull ups that he is likely to reach his goal dragging me kicking and complaining the whole way. After all, isn’t that what I signed up for?

Volunteering

2010-06-17T07:45:00.001-07:00

I heard a statistic this morning that volunteering in the U.S. is up by 20% from this time last year. The news caster made a point that it wasn't a result of the Gulf Oil disaster, but an overall rise. I may be one of the people included in that statistic.

I have been volunteering since last July with a local group called CAT Adoption Team , the feline alternative to the humane society. It's a great group, doing great things for the homeless cats in the area who wouldn't have any options otherwise.

In my humble opinion, the rise in volunteering is partly a result of everything else in the world being so grim. It feels nice to be needed and appreciated for something even as trivial as scooping a litter box for a cat in a shelter.

Escape

2010-06-03T07:44:00.001-07:00

It's June 3rd, but it feels more like October 1st lately. All the rain we've been getting around Portland for the past few weeks gives me cabin fever and wish the weather would start acting like summer and not fall.

This morning I couldn't help but notice the sun shining. It's still cold but at least the suns out. That made me start wishing that the sun would stay out all day. And the I started thinking, what if it did? What excuse could I find to go out in the sunshine to get some vitman D? I've been so burnt out by work lately that I can't help but think about using one of my sick days for a mental health day. I likely wont but its nice to feel like i have the option. The sun coming out makes me want to escape that much more.

Taking the Cake

2010-06-02T07:42:00.001-07:00

I grew up in Sacramento, CA. A place that I don't find much to brag about in retrospect. And I think that because Portland is so different from Sacramento is part of what I love so much.

When I was in high school a band by the name of Cake became nationally popular, and I had the pleasure of bragging that we share a home town. A pleasure that carries forward to today.

This morning as I was getting ready for work and their song "Open Book" popped up on my iPod. I love this song for many reasons, one is the lyrics: "you think she's an open book, but you don't know which page to turn to. Do you?" Another reason, like many of their songs, it feels so timeless.

They are by no means my favorite band. Even though most of their popular songs hit when I was in high school I can't help but love it and identify with it.

An Ode to Bacon

2010-05-30T09:59:00.000-07:00

There are few foods in the world that feel sinful to consume. Bacon is one of them. Think about it, the fattiest part of the pig sliced into strips and fried until it's crisp for our consumption. It's so bad, that doctors will tell heart patients to stop eating it all together. But it tastes so good.

Hubby and I are making Migas (Mexican scrambled eggs), among other things it has four slices of crisp bacon in it. We have been using a common grocery store brand bacon, thin slices and mostly fat. We got a new brand of bacon when we were last grocery shopping, the slices not only looked thicker, but they looked meatier so we figured it would be worth a try. This morning when I plopped four slices in to the pan I knew we were in for a treat. These were were like slices you would get from a butcher shop, not prepacked in the deli section at Winco like the other ones. As they were cooking they barely shrank, a good sign of their hearty, meaty nature. When they were done cooking the slices were crisp, but substantial enough to not fall apart when you bit into it. Truly a a delightful change in our Sunday Migas.

So, I thank you Daybreak Bacon for giving me a bacon I can truly sink my teeth into.

Two Haikus

2010-05-25T08:21:00.000-07:00

Today is too busy
So enjoy this little haiku
Because there’s nothing else.

And one I wrote for my company's CEO about our students:

No more excuses
Now get your learning online
Clothing not needed

5 Dirty Words

2010-05-24T08:28:00.000-07:00

Caught your eye, didn’t it? I know it caught mine. And no, it’s not what you think.
Like most Portlanders I tend to have an eye toward conservation: I take public transportation to and from work, I combine trips when I’m out driving around, I recycle, I even compost.

In the first part of May, MINIGirl and her family took a trip down to Southern California so I had the opportunity to “sublet” her parking spot in the garage next to our office building for a week. In the two and a half years I have worked in that office I hadn’t once driven myself to work. In fact I frequently extolled upon the virtues of taking MAX to work daily, and for the most part those still hold true.

After the week was over I gave MINIGirl her parking pass back and went back to my daily commute on Max. I hated it. I’d had a taste of freedom and now I was locked back in to the schedule that the MAX set for me. So I began to think to myself: “What if I drove to work everyday?” But logic hits me upside the head noting all the money I save by taking the MAX, and how virtuous for the Earth it is. So I quietly take my seat on the MAX and contemplate what another few months of light rail commuting would mean.

In between podcasts I looked up at the posters that line the walls inside the car and I see one from TriMet: “5 Dirty Words: POLLUTION. Fact: 4.2 tons of smog-forming pollutants are avoided every day by leaving our cars at home and riding TriMet.”

GUILT. Pure and simple. How selfish of me to want to shave ten to fifteen minutes off of my commute home and contribute to global warming.

If you would like to read the rest of TriMets 5 Dirty Words look here.

What is My Subconscious Trying to Tell Me?

2010-05-22T08:01:00.000-07:00

I had a dream in the very early hours of this morning that I couldn’t help but wish was true. I had made these earrings that were essentially red yarn crocheted to look like a stem of coral with seed beads mixed in. In all honesty, the earrings were heinous. Who wears crocheted things hanging from their ears? But I digress. I posted them in my Etsy shop, and *boom* I got ten sales, just like that. I was flabbergasted. It felt so real. I hoped it was real. In fact, when I woke up I checked my email for sale notifications but alas, there were none.

I feel like I’ve been trying so long and so hard to get my Etsy shop off the ground. But really ten months isn’t that long, and I’ve put more effort in to it recently than in many of the past few months. I’ve gotten a lot of great advice, but I think the reality of it is that I’ve got to buckle down and start making a lot of jewelry and post it to see what happens.

My Etsy Shop: Willow Works

Carry On, Nothing to See Here

2010-05-21T16:33:00.000-07:00

Apparently I’m not doing so well at this “blogging every day” thing. Two days and I have already failed, but I can say now that I will try my best to continue on.

Perhaps this answers my question from a few days ago: what hobby should I focus on? Last night when I got home after a lovely dinner with FishSticks, I turned on my computer and then proceeded to sit down and work on another necklace.

I’m going to keep trying at this blog though. See if I can get 30 entries in 31 days. Wish me luck!

Sushi Me Sushi Sakura!

2010-05-19T13:37:00.000-07:00

I’m going to take this opportunity to do a restaurant review. As you may have noticed, I’m not a restaurant critic but I enjoy eating well.

I’m a big fan of sushi and when the sign went up for Sushi Sakura I don’t know how many months ago now I got excited. A sushi-go-round so close to my office? I was nearly giddy. And no, I’m not over stating. MINIGirl was on vacation last week and made me wait to go try it out.

So, today was my first endeavor in to Sushi Sakura. When we first walked in the place was packed, and that says a lot at 11:30. When we sat down and I started to eye the sushi passing by on the conveyor belt I couldn’t help but want just about everything that went by, and everything I did grab was very yummy. I have to say that I’m very glad that it was, because after waiting and building the anticipation for nearly six months they could have easily disappointed me and I would have never gone back.

Is there such a thing as TOO crafty?

2010-05-18T09:33:00.000-07:00

I had some one tell me that I was too crafty for my own good. At first, I wasn’t sure what she meant, and then I thought about it. I realized what she meant was that I’m dividing my focus among too many things trying to be amazing at all of them with only being good at most of them. I love to make jewelry, I love to write, I love to travel, I love planning events. I like to sew, I like to garden, and at times I enjoy working for an online high school, but where do my passions fall? I know I’m not one dimensional, no one is, but for me to be ultimately successful with any one of my endeavors involving something I love to do, then it’s quite likely I’ll need to buckle down and focus on the thing that I want the most.

So my good friend, and coworker, MINIGirl asked me: Why do you have to choose? My initial thought was: Yeah, why do I have to choose? But the reality is: do I want to be a Jack of all trades, but a master of none?

So, how do I decide? Why does it feel like so much of what I decide is going to define me as a person? A big part of me wants to just cut loose from the traditional work world and endeavor to pursue all of the things I love and some how make a living by doing it. What would my life look like if I did do that? Do I really have that kind of drive an initiative to achieve what I feel like I deserve? How long am I willing to be the starving artist before I can achieve something that may never come?

MAX Annoyance

2010-03-31T09:14:00.000-07:00

Normally I like taking the MAX to work. It's usually consistent. I know if I get to my station at a certain time I'll get a specific train and get to the office on time if not early. But in the last two weeks it hasn't been the max that has been the cause of irritation, but people on the MAX. It causes me to wonder if there’s such a thing as common courtesy any more, or if people’s own needs and wants come before doing something kind for someone else. Does the golden rule no longer apply?

Just this morning I was sitting playing with my phone, listening to music, generally entertaining myself during the thirty minute ride in to down town. This woman was standing, holding on to the bar behind me and repeatedly elbowed me in the head, so many times in fact I was beginning to wonder if it was accidental.

Last Friday on the way home we pulled in to a stop that many people get off at in order to catch a bus. A kid (I use this term lightly as he was probably 15 or 16) instead of waiting for all of the people to offload before he got on pushes through with his muddy bike hitting me and a few other people putting the bike on the rack.

On the Monday prior, usually a busy day for the light rail system, an older frail looking gentleman climbed on to the train. He looked in the priority seating area for a seat, which common courtesy and general concern for another person would have dictated that one of the six people in these seats should have offered him their seat, but none did. In fact, they all seemed to purposefully avoid eye contact and hope that one of the other passengers would give him their seat. Finally a man standing nearby asked one of them to give up their seat and they did so. That shouldn’t have had to happen.

After riding mass transit to and from work for over two years I still appreciate the system for it’s finer points, but there are days when I just shake my head and can’t believe what I’m seeing.

Spring Fever

2010-02-24T08:38:00.000-08:00

Around Portland the signs of Spring are popping up every where, a robin hopping around in my yard looking for worms, the cherry blossoms bursting out. Even though it’s only February I can’t help but start planning my garden and imaging it bursting forth with produce. I was reading my Father-in-law’s blog this morning and it made me yearn for my quiet time in the garden every morning while I water and check the progress of the plants. That quiet alone time is something that I don’t get much in the cold of winter when I barely want to crawl out from under the covers to start my day. It feels like it takes me just that much longer to get my mind in to the start of the day.

My Spring fever has likely been sparked by the tendency of Oregon-in-February to have a few weeks of really nice weather giving the rain soaked city a teasing taste of the seasons yet to come. Never the less, my garden line up for this growing season is shaping up nicely. I already have some spinach seeds planted and they started poking their heads through the soil over this past weekend. I have on order three tomato plants and two bell pepper plants. I have also decided to try to grow fingerling potatoes for the first time. My strawberry plants from last year are already starting to come back and I’m likely to start my herbs seeds this weekend.

Creative Drive

2010-02-18T09:11:00.000-08:00

This morning I found myself trying to suppress the urge to just call in to work and just go home to be creative. On my walk from the MAX station to my office I can pass by two different stores that sell art of local artists, and at least one artsy clothing store depending on the path I choose to walk the eight or so blocks. Having a full time job I find that I often don’t have time to do the things I really want to do: write a novel, make jewelry, sew something or dig in the dirt of my garden. With that full time job comes paid time off, luckily, but there are only so many days that I can take off to balance with the work week.

Many other creative types understand the need for creative time, the desire to have a space dedicated to the goal of making something. For me, if I go too long with out indulging my urge to create to satisfaction I end up where I am now: longing to run away somewhere so I can do just that.

MAX Quiet

2010-02-08T08:20:00.000-08:00

I've written about taking the MAX to work every morning before but this morning as I was waiting for the train I couldn't help but think of the different feeling each MAX station has depending on its location etc. Recently I've started using a station that is probably about two minutes closer to my house but before a major intersection that drives me crazy during the rush hours. As I was looking around this new to me station I couldn't help but feel that it was so much more remote and secluded than the others I'd been to and I think that's partly due to the protected wetlands on the west bound side and the undeveloped field on the east bound side. The other station a little further up the track feels much more urban has parking lots and buildings on both sides. Personally I prefer the new station because of its remote feeling. This morning the fog nestled itself neatly among the trees of the wetland and at the furthest edge of the field making the station feel quiet and encapsulated and so much further from the bustling city that I am going to be taking the train to.

Welcoming the End of 2009

2009-12-09T11:03:00.000-08:00

I keep saying that I can’t wait for this year to be over. What a horrendous 365 days this has been. I’m done, ready for the good things to start spilling in. Therein lies the rub. At some point I have to stop counting the bad things and tallying the good things, and when the bad things seem to start piling too high I need to look back at my list of good and hope that they balance out. Because in reality if I let myself get thrown off, if I allow the scales to become unbalanced then what view of my life am I left with? I have to remember to see all of the trees in the forest, and the beauty of the forest as a whole.

You Can’t Transition-Proof Your Life

2009-10-16T10:34:00.000-07:00

I’m beginning to learn more and more each day that life is about transitions, and how I deal with the transitions is what shapes me as a person… as a functioning adult in today’s world. I still think that it’s strange to refer to myself as an adult. I know I am of that age group and actively functioning as one, but part of me still feels fresh out of college barely prepared for the responsibility handed to me. At what point does someone transition from a “punk college kid” to a “makin’ it in the world adult”? Does the Mary Tyler Moore theme suddenly erupt as you’re walking in to your office one Monday morning? Does it become really truly adulthood when you buy your first new car? Make your first mortgage payment? When you have your first child?

Like a lot of things being an adult is a state of mind, one that needs to be transitioned in to. Here in the U.S. you can drive at 16, help decide who runs our government and be sent to war at 18, and drink legally at 21. The rates on car insurance go down at 25 and you can join AARP at 55, retire and collect social security at 65 and then what?

In the past two weeks the reality of the working during a recession hit my company, and for the first time I experienced companywide layoffs, gracefully masked as a “reorganizing”. Fortunately for me I was spared the pink slip but returned to the office missing the 15 people that had been let go. Talking to one of my coworkers who works at another office in Arizona that lost 27 people, a large majority of their office staff, he compared it to grieving the loss of someone to death. Suddenly they’re gone and the reminders of them are everywhere but you have to pick up the pieces and move on. It is a horrible thing, but you learn from it and hopefully your company is better for it, and you all transition together to making it work.

Shine On, Harvest Moon

2009-10-12T11:01:00.000-07:00

Fall arrived on swift wings to Portland this year. One week it was sunny and in the low 80’s, and then suddenly the leaves on the trees are turning gold and red and the highs will hit the upper 60’s if we’re lucky. It all seemed very sudden, and I couldn’t help but feel a little blindsided by it having to change out my wardrobe so quickly. Personally, I like an easing in to my seasons, I think it helps me to mentally process that there’s going to be a different type of weather pattern in the near future. This year, ready or not, Fall is here.

I’m not ready, give me back my summer!

I'm just sayin'

2009-10-06T08:47:00.000-07:00

I get so frustrated with people who leave voice-mails at my office with message like: “This is my tenth phone call and no one has called me back.” So, knowing that it’s something I can help out with, I call the person back… and it just rings and rings and rings. How would they know if someone has called them back or not if they don’t have a voice mail system for me leave them the information they need. Or, better yet why don’t they call during the business hours that I leave in the out going voice-mail so that I can help them out then? Help me help you. Sheesh.

Tigger

2009-09-15T10:44:00.000-07:00

It can be frightening, really, if one stops to think about it for a moment about how brief a pet’s life is when compared to the span of a human’s life time. When I adopted Tigger from Hubby’s mom back before he was hubby the thought never entered my mind that she wasn’t always going to be there with me. As years wore on and my life’s circumstances changed she was always right there, a static and predictable aspect of my home life. It seemed though, that there was always room for more love in my life. Anyone who knows me will agree that I’m an un abashed animal lover and if I could I would open my home to many more than I currently have. Which is why when Hubby and I moved in to a house we adopted a dog, and then six months later another cat.

I feel a bit guilty, in retrospect, for being selfish and bringing more animals into our home, but at the time I couldn’t have known how Tigger would react. With the two other animals in the picture and vying for Hubby and my affections Tigger became more reclusive choosing to spend her time alone in the sleeping in the bay window or on the back of the couch in the other room rather than in my lap or on the cushion next to me. We joked that she was just becoming a crabby old lady cat, but I made sure that her spot next to me was available at night, and most times she took it.

A month ago Tigger started throwing up every two hours or so and acting very lethargic. It wasn’t like her at all, and it worried me. Hubby and I drove out to the emergency vet hoping it was something easily cared for. After two hours and inconclusive x-rays we drove home with her still sick and instructions of hopefully care for her to make her better.

The next day Hubby came home for lunch to check on her to discover that she was still throwing up regularly. He took her back to the emergency vet to have blood tests done. Her blood pressure was so low they had difficulty drawing her blood, but what little they did get confirmed that she had developed feline diabetes and her body was essentially shutting down. I was at work, crying my eyes out trying to decide what to do. She was my baby, she had always been there for me even if she didn’t know why, and here I had put her life in question because I wasn’t paying attention. Maybe that’s just my guilty conscience talking.

In the end my amazing boss drove me to the emergency vet so I could be there with Tigger and Hubby and make the decisions necessary. Ultimately, it came down to five days in the veterinary ICU and a lifetime of two insulin shots a day for her or end her suffering. If money hadn’t been a factor I would have done anything possible to make her healthy again. But, as it is with everything in life there are no guarantees. And as I held her, and looked down at her I asked her what she wanted. Unquestioningly, I know she wanted us to let her go. So, we did.

Ultimately, she lived a good eleven years and was a very happy spoiled cat for most of them. I know we made the right choice to let her go because it was what she wanted. I still miss her terribly, but I know she’s in a better place now.

Holly Hobby

2009-08-25T09:21:00.000-07:00

I often wonder if I have too many hobbies. When I was younger just about any craft that you put in front of me I would instantly become infatuated with. Often my mom would take me to Michael’s and we would wander the isles and I would say, like most children, “Oh Mom, can you get that for me?” She would take one look at the drawstring bag, or the beaded necklace, or piece of doll house furniture and respond “You could make that.” Now at this point in my life, fifteen or more years later, I don’t know if she was saying that as a way to get me to stop asking her for something or if she honestly believed that I could make everything I wanted. To this day, I still hear those words ringing in my ears when I go shopping.

I explored many, many crafts in my youth including: sewing and quilting, scrapbooking, cooking, baking, making miniatures for my dollhouse, flower arranging, writing, drawing, painting, collage, decoupage, gardening, and beading or jewelry making. I still practice a few of these hobbies to this day, and I may have picked up some new ones, and part of me is thankful for my Mom’s voice ringing out that I could make anything I wanted.

Now when I walk through a craft store my mind reels with all of the things I could make - oh that charm would look great on a beaded necklace, oh that fabric would make a nice skirt, etc. Truly, it’s a dangerous thing for me to walk in to a craft store unattended. I am glad though, that I have learned the importance of the reality check, because really I could make all of those things I want given the time and money. However, seeing as I have a full time job with an hour commute each way and a husband with three pets that don’t take too well to me ignoring them for long periods of time.

So I’m left with a mere few choices for my creative habits, but that’s okay with me. It is far less expensive, far less time consuming, and far less crazy making if I limit myself to the number of crafts I do. On the other hand, I can’t limit myself too much or I find myself crying out inside for a creative outlet. As it is with all things, hobbies come down to a balancing act.

Jesus and Buddha walk into a bar...

2009-07-29T12:36:00.000-07:00

I was thinking this morning on my walk from the MAX station to work about a conversation I had with one of my coworkers about two weeks ago. I happened to mention in passing friendly conversation that I was a Religious Studies minor in college. Typically I’m reluctant to mention this fact to people, especially coworkers, considering it is a touchy subject for many and I don’t think it is very appropriate to discuss religion at work. In fact, it just may be against the law. Actually, I don’t really remember what brought it up but what I do remember is the conversation that ensued.

A little background on me: I was raised in a Christian family, and was quite active in the church up until I went to college. My beliefs went through an adjustment period as I grew and changed and came into myself as an individual. Hubby’s family is, for the most part, Jewish with the exception of Hubby’s Mom who practices Bon. When asked, I typically respond that I am a Buddhist because the majority of what I believe is encompassed in Buddhism. I’m not going to get in to the deep recesses of why I believe what I believe, suffice to say that it is my choice and I have put A LOT of thought in to it.

Let’s get back to where this all started - that conversation. What it came down to was me trying to explain to her as how I viewed the Buddha in terms similar to Christianity. Somehow, I managed to end up comparing the Buddha to Jesus. This may seem to be a strange bridge but allow me to explain. Christians generally believe that Jesus came to earth as a means by which God could save the sinners from Hell. Similarly, Buddha found a way to escape Hell – in Buddhist terms this would be continual reincarnation and the suffering that is life – and shared. That is not where the similarities end. Both taught to love, be kind, be spiritually faithful, and one can escape from Hell. Now, to clarify, I’m not saying that the Buddha is “the savior” in the same respect that Christians consider Jesus to be their savior. Buddha (which means the enlightened one in Sanskrit) would be more of a prophet or a teacher, the one that figured out the key to enlightenment for the everyday practitioner (or Average Joe Buddhist). Buddha came in to the world as a Hindu and didn’t necessarily intend to start his own religion. Similarly, Jesus was raised as a Jew and probably had little intention of starting his own religion either – he was sent to put people on the right path.

I realize that comparing Christianity to Buddhism may seem like comparing apples to a prickly pear, but my personal understanding is that most religions when you take away the dogma all come down to two things: answering the question of powers larger than us as humans, and being a good person.

As ShoeDiva would say: “I’m just sayin’…”

What's in a Genre?

2009-07-13T11:16:00.000-07:00

As I have mentioned before, I love books. I love to read and do so quite a bit more frequency than I used to. With that in mind, also knowing that I used to work at a small used book store, and being the daughter of an English teacher has made me a bit of a genre snob.

After yet another foray with my book club and a bottle of wine mostly between me and ShoeDiva we took a stroll around Powell’s to sober up. Giggling at the counter culture nick-nacks with ShoeDiva and FishSticks I started to think about my lack of experience with genres outside of “Literature” and “General Fiction” (This could have been a result of a conversation they had been having but the alcohol has wiped that memory from my mind). When the giggles died down I turn to FishSticks and ask if she could recommend a good bodice ripper to me. She looked at me and a smile spread across her face as she began to ask questions and lead me over to the Romance section of the store. I sighed to myself wondering slightly what I had gotten in to and sheepishly answering her questions.

Up until recently I looked down my nose at the Romance and Sci Fi genres, I could see why people might enjoy them, but it wasn’t something I could get in to. In fact, while I worked at the used book store I had women who came in regularly to trade the romance novels they’d blown through for a new set. I couldn’t help but wonder at the time what the draw was. I turned to the back cover to read the description on a Nora Robert’s book and had to keep myself from laughing too hard at the novel’s synopsis. Maybe I took myself too seriously, maybe I took my reading habits too seriously, but I couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to read anything in that genre. Now though, the notion strikes me that as in all genres there are different levels of quality, and what better way to find out than to ask some who I know and trust?

Having fettered down her options down to a manageable queue of likely possibilities, FishSticks starts to hand me books from the shelf when I have two in my hands and she’s going for a third and I can’t help but say: “Wait!” I didn’t even know if I could finish one of these let alone three and the last thing I wanted to do was disappoint my friends after a tentative step into the Romance novel wading pool.

It was three days ago that I walked out of Powell’s having purchased my first Romance novel. I’m sure this book is training wheels for the likes of me – a story of a woman who wakes up a vampire and some innuendo thrown in. So far it has been a quick and overly simple read. I believe I shall now refer to the bodice rippers as the “Brain Candy Genre”.

Who Are You Calling Domestic?

2009-06-22T11:40:00.000-07:00

I was talking to my Mom last night and telling her about how I had just made a batch of Pesto from the basil that I had grown – after I had done some sewing, and done a bit of gardening. Her response: “My, aren’t you domestic!” That comment irks me a little. What is so wrong with enjoying making things with your hands? If a man were to make a bench or fix a leaky pipe we would call him “handy” so why is it when a woman does traditional things she’s considered domestic?

I know that I can go to the store and purchase a jar of pre-made pesto, a necklace or a dress for the party I’m attending, or even as many tomatoes as I can fit in to my car but where is the joy in that? There’s a simple pleasure in producing something whether it’s sewn or home grown that you can’t get from picking it up off a shelf in the store. It may be more time consuming but at least you know what it is a product of.

I know that I made my favorite pajama pants, not some poor child laborer working for twenty cents a day in Indonesia. I know that the lettuce in my salad I grew from seed in my back yard, so I know it isn’t tainted with Hepatitis C or whatever the latest food outbreak is. The same goes for any other little thing that I create or grow, there’s a satisfaction in knowing where it came from and what went in to it.

I suppose that my adverse reaction is probably due to the word domestic itself. To me the word domestic causes a mental cross reference to animals that we have as pets or food stock – so domestic means they are no longer wild and untamable. The other image I get is the typical “bare-foot and pregnant in the kitchen”.

I guess one might even call it a cultural revolution that as of late gardening is growing in popularity and there seems to be a great number of people who still enjoy crafting and sewing regularly. My personal belief is that it needs a new name… instead of domestic just call me “make it yourself friendly.”

Eat the View: Part 5, “Rise of the Word Garden”

2009-06-16T11:16:00.000-07:00

Every morning I get up at 5am and go out to the back yard to water my vegetable plants. Living in the North West means that we actually have day light at that hour, it’s not much but it keeps me from stubbing my toes. My plants all loved the heat wave we had a few weeks ago making them all double in size. I had hoped that would mean tomatoes soon, but then the cool down back to normal temperatures quickly dismissed that idea.

As one might imagine, I check out my plants every morning as I’m giving them their drink of water. I have had about half a dozen or so snow peas to harvest on my snow pea plant every day and my cherry tomato plant has tiny green tomatoes on it. The problem is because our temperatures have gone back to their normal range of the 70’s it is not really warm enough for the tomatoes to finish ripening. So, I wait. Watching and hoping. I know sooner than I believe I will have more tomatoes than I know what to do with, but a part of me feels a little like Veruca Salt from Willy Wonka jumping up and down and screaming “I want it now!” I’m still learning that I can’t rush nature.

ShoeDiva came over on Sunday night to have dinner watch the season premiere of True Blood and in the down time between eating and the show starting we sat out in the garden with a bottle of “3 Buck Chuck” and began to talk. Like they say, one thing led to another, and we ended up naming all of the plants in my garden. We stayed with a theme of author names and tried to match them with the plant’s characteristics (did I mention there was a bottle of wine involved?): my two zucchini plants ended up with the names Poe and Wilde, the snow peas are Hemingway, the strawberry plants are Dr. Suess, my Shady Lady tomato plant is Plath, and the basil is Doyle. The list goes on, but I won’t venture to try to remember all of them. Being the intelligent ladies that we are, because we don’t want me to forget all of these fabulous titles we have bestowed upon these plants we wrote the names on popsicle sticks and put them in the soil next to the plant. Now I’ll never forget that my Lemon Verbena plant has been dubbed Lincoln Steffens.

What's the opposite of a "Pity Party"?

2009-06-05T14:09:00.000-07:00

I am feeling full of deep thoughts this morning. I think it may have something to do with the big thunderstorm that rolled through yesterday evening. It seems like it hit all of a sudden, and after a torrential downpour, thunder & lightning and perhaps even a little hail, by the time I had finished cooking dinner it was all done.

Hubby's dad (MusicMan) has been doing something daily that I find intriguing. I guess he's been feeling down about the housing market and the balance between work and life so his business coach advised him to get up a little earlier every day and do something he loved before he started going through his routine of getting ready for the day. So MusicMan has started emailing every morning his thoughts on life. He started out with a group of ten or so people and Hubby tells me that MusicMan is now up to 50 on his list. Hubby forwarded the emails to me (MusicMan is titling them "Passion Party", the opposite of "Pity Party") and I read through the first 9 of his emails this morning. WOW. They are really simple observations on life, but you can tell that he's pouring his soul in to them.

I hadn't really thought about it much, but I think that I have my own little "Passion Party" every morning when I water my garden. It was still raining this morning so I didn't water my plants when I let Cleo out... & I kind of was disappointed about that. Like I said, I hadn't realized that watering my plants is kind of like a morning meditation for me - doing something I enjoy before I get my day started. And I do it every morning.

I hope you're doing something for yourself lately.

A "Material Girl" I'm Not

2009-06-01T10:29:00.000-07:00

Day one of the month of June and I already feel summer in the air. I feel like we hardly got spring first but that’s just fine with me. I love spring and summer in Portland they’re nothing like what I grew up with in Sacramento – it just feels like there’s so much more life in the heat of summer here.

With the heat of summer comes a change in wardrobe. Everyone sheds their big wool coats, knitted scarves, and rain hats for sun glasses, strappy sandals and short sleeve shirts. Now, let me get one thing out there, I am not nor have ever been what you might call a girly girl. I like to think that I’m in touch with my femininity but not obsessed with it. To be completely honest, I haven’t really been too concerned with fashion until the last year or two and even then I’m all for function over fashion. I won’t pin-point all of my evolutions here for you, though if asked I could likely tell you.

I don’t know if my evolution in to femininity is a result of me growing up or a result of the world in which I live and work. Given, I put more energy in to how I look in my office setting than I do at home or with friends. I find that if I have extra money I would rather spend it on a dinner out than a new pair of shoes. That doesn’t mean that I don’t look at a nice pair of heels and think “Damn, my legs would look nice in those.” I may think that, but I likely won’t be able to bring myself to spend over $50 on an item of clothing. Heck, I spent $20 on the cocktail dress for my company holiday party last year, and then another $10 on jewelry and I’ve worn the outfit three times. Though I can’t tell if that is just being frugal or me thinking that fashion isn’t worth all the money people put in to it.

I can’t put my finger on what makes me feel how I do. I just know that I am not “a material girl” or “high maintenance,” I do know that I like to feel like I look good but don’t feel like I have to be fully “done up” to go grocery shopping. I’m sure I could go on for pages about the evils of the fashion industry, but I won’t waste anyone’s time with that.

In the end I think what this all means is that I’m growing more comfortable skin. I think that’s all really anyone can ask for.

Eat the View: Part 4, Back to "The Word Garden"

2009-05-20T09:51:00.000-07:00

The weather forecast predicted a high in the upper 70s over this past weekend, something for Portlanders to get excited about and cause to start making plans to be outside all day. I had ordered some tomato starts to be delivered in the beginning of April, and while I received them at their promised date, they have been relegated to living in our garden window until the weather was more appropriate for putting them in their permanent home outside. In the meantime, I have watched them inch ever higher and waiting impatiently for the day when they will start producing. Luckily I’ve had other things in the garden to be focusing my attention on to abate my “limited tomato based thinking”. While Hubby ran around mowing the lawn and other important yard tasks I took advantage of the warm weather and decided that my tomato plants would be able to survive outside now that the lows are hovering around fifty degrees.

Toward the end of March I planted four Oregon Snow Pea seeds in the hopes that one would sprout and produce snow peas for us to enjoy through the season. Much to my happy surprise all four sprouted and have been growing ever skyward. Noticing that they were starting to climb on one another I improvised a trellis with a tomato cage that wouldn’t come to use for a little while and strung some gardener’s twine diagonally between the bars to give the peas something else for their little tendrils to wrap around. When ShoeDiva came over to help me pull weeds on Saturday, she was shocked at the growth of the snow peas in the month since she had last seen them. Truth be told, I’m a little amazed at how quickly they’re growing too. But seeing as neither of us has really had any experience with veggie gardening our surprise should be no surprise.

The Guilty Conscience Strikes Again

2009-05-12T09:27:00.000-07:00

I’ve written about this before – but I think it is a common topic among writers – finding inspiration. I have been so busy traveling for work lately that I have all but forgotten about my blogging duties. That could be just an excuse, but I’ll never tell if it is or not. Technically, I’m already doing better about my blogging consistency than I was last year and that is probably a good thing. I think I have subconsciously committed myself to posting to my blog at least once a week whether it’s a second hand article or I’m just “phoning it in”, and when I don’t I feel guilty. So I suppose that’s where blogs like this come in.

On my commute to work this morning I spent some time on the MAX thinking about what I should blog about next. I don’t want my posts to be too garden-centric, so I ruled that out. I don’t want to post about work or traveling for work, although that may come up at a later date, I’m tired of thinking about it right now. But again I come back to feeling like I’m writing for an audience and not for myself. In reality I should just be writing about whatever I want to write about and not what I think people might want to read. So, I guess ultimately this blog post is just going to be two things: me feeling guilty for not posting, and me not knowing what to write. Maybe I should just take the advice of my college professors and all of those years of participating in NaNoWirMo and just sit down with the intention to write and something will be produced. Lovely, I’m sure that will be incredibly entertaining.

I don’t know if anyone that I don’t know is reading this or not, but if you are reading this and would like me to write about something feel free to leave a comment. Cheers!

Eat the View: Part 3, In “The Word Garden”

2009-04-30T10:27:00.000-07:00

The time of year that I have been anxiously waiting for since our first cold day of fall has finally arrived. Spring! Sadly the turning of the season of new life doesn’t necessarily mean that I can start putting my veggies in the ground just yet. I have been reading gardening blogs of people who live in a warmer climate and drooling over my garden’s potential – dreaming of the day when I can actually transplant my tomato starts in to the raised planter bed that Hubby and I built with the help of CodeMonkey and his lovely wife LadyNurse. Alas, it is still too cold and if I prematurely put the plants out it could damage them. So, the tomato starts have taken up residence in my kitchen window along with the basil, sage, oregano and marjoram starts. The snow peas I planted outside in a 5 gallon pot over a month ago seem to be growing quite happily in this cold weather. I am regretting, though, not having staggered planting them because now we will have an abundance of the peas all at once. Looks like I will be learning how to freeze fresh produce.

This is my first edible garden, and I would like to think that I’m taking it slowly and not getting too excited but it is hard to judge my level of excitement until I get to the “uh oh, I may have done too much” point. By the way, I am nowhere near that point yet. Once we get fully in to the swing of growing season it is likely that that is when I will look at my over abundance of crops and wonder what the heck I was thinking. In the mean time, I’m enjoying watching little sprouts pop up in the starter pots in my kitchen window and imagining the fun meals I can produce with them when the time comes.

If you would like to read my previous posts on the subject see: Part One, and Part Two

April is National Poetry Month

2009-04-14T09:46:00.000-07:00

Dr. Maya Angelou said: “Poetry is music written for the human voice.” April is National Poetry Month and was first celebrated in 1996. It was created to promote attention to the literary form and history of poetry. How can you celebrate National Poetry Month? The Academy of American Poets has a list of thirty ways to celebrate poetry in April:

Read a poem a day – books of poetry can be found at your local library, or there are websites dedicated to poetry by certain authors or on certain subjects. One of my favorites is “The Road Not Taken” by Robert Frost.

Write a poem of your own – use free verse, make a haiku, write a sonnet, the style doesn’t matter just the attempt. Writing a poem is not as complicated as some people might think, the most important part is being uninhibited and turning off your internal editor. Just write everything that comes to mind, you can edit it later. Choose a style of poetry that fits your subject, research rhyme scheme and meter standards to find out if your poem is a Couplet, Villanelle, or Shakespearian Sonnet.

Add a verse of poetry to your personal email signature – if you stumble across a line you enjoy while reading, share it with others. Make it short and to the point, and always site the source of the line.

Celebrate Poem in Your Pocket Day – on April 17, 2009 carry a poem in your pocket and share it as you see fit with those around you.

Kay Ryan, the current Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry for 2008-2009, said: "Poems are transmissions from the depths of whoever wrote them to the depths of the reader. To a greater extent than with any other kind of reading, the reader of a poem is making that poem, is inhabiting those words in the most personal sort of way. That doesn’t mean that you read a poem and make it whatever you want it to be, but that it’s operating so deeply in you, that it is the most special kind of reading."

27 Years, and All I Got Was This T-shirt

2009-04-08T15:24:00.000-07:00

One of my coworkers pointed out today that now that I am at the ripe old age of 27, my age is a cubed number. He’s in the accounting department, and has a love for numbers, that’s all I need to say to explain that.

It’s strange to think that at 12:35am this morning I changed from being 26 to 27. You always hear people say things like “You’re only as old as you feel,” or “Age is just a number,” and even “Act your age, not your shoe size.” All are relative truisms, but I think I have come to mark my life more by events than by my age. A quote from the character Leonard in the show Big Bang Theory rings true to me: “My parents focused on celebrating achievements, and being expelled from a birth canal was not considered one of them.” It couldn’t have felt truer than it did a few weeks ago when I found out that a job I was hoping would be created was not opened due to budget constraints. This event sent me into a swirl of self doubt and to revisit my quarter-life-crisis stage. My first, and returning, thought was “I’m going to be 27, and a receptionist. I thought I would be doing more than that by now.” The thought that I should be doing something else haunts me frequently. It has haunted me since six months after I graduated from college.

All those thoughts disappeared though after I took a minute to reflect on my current position. There are literally hundreds of thousands of people in this country alone that have found themselves without a job because of the recession. So, first I count my blessings that I have a job. Second, I have a good paying job with benefits. Third, and not the least of all, I actually enjoy my job. Yeah it’s not the most thrilling thing and not what I thought I would be doing but there’s something to be said for enjoying your job. I have always told myself to get a job doing work I enjoy and everything else will follow. I’d have to so that the only bad part about this job is the commute.

Here’s to another year, and more achievements to come.

Five U.S. Presidents You May Have Forgotten

2009-02-17T10:03:00.000-08:00

Another article I wrote for my company letter, was going to post it on Presidents' Day but you know how these things go...

Traditionally, Presidents’ Day (February 16) is a federal holiday honoring our nation’s fist president, George Washington, and our sixteenth president, Abraham Lincoln. This month, we would like to honor five lesser-known presidents.

William Henry Harrison, 9th US President. His term (March 4, 1841 – April 4, 1841) was the shortest of any US president, only serving the office officially for a little over 30 days before he died of pneumonia. His untimely death, the first death of a US President in office, brought about the 25th Amendment to the Constitution detailing the succession of the US President.

Millard Fillmore, 13th US President, was the second Vice President to take office after the death of the elected president. The most notable accomplishment during his term (July 9, 1850 – March 4, 1853) was having California signed in to statehood – a process begun by his predecessor.

James Buchanan, 15th US President, has been ranked by most historians as one of the worst presidents. During his term (March 4, 1857 – March 4, 1861) the Southern states declared their secession but Buchanan declared the action illegal and remained inactive on the topic. Failure to avoid the Civil War has been considered the worst single failure by any U.S. president.
Rutherford B. Hayes, 19th US President, was sworn in to office after winning the election with a mere one electoral vote over his opponent. His term (March 4, 1877 – March 4, 1881) was marred by indecision and conflict including the Great Railroad Strike of 1877 which ended in the death of 70 striking Baltimore & Ohio Railroad employees.

Calvin Coolidge, 30th US President, was dubbed “Silent Cal” for being a man of few words in social situations. He completed Harding’s term as president and then was elected to office in his own right serving as president for a term and a half (August 2, 1923 – March 4, 1929). Coolidge signed the Radio Act of 1927 which regulated radio use in the U.S. until the formation of the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) in 1934.

Five Interesting Firsts

2009-02-09T16:19:00.000-08:00

I originally wrote this article for my company newsletter, and thought I would post it for others to read as well.

February is Black History Month and typically a time when we reflect upon and appreciate African-Americans that have made an impact on American history. We all know the names Booker T. Washington, Rosa Parks, Malcolm X, Martin Luther King Jr., and Barack Obama. Who are some of the lesser-known African-American history-makers?

First published African-American writer in America – Jupiter Hammon (1711 – 1806?) was a lifelong slave on Long Island, New York who was given a formal eduation and is considered one of the founders of African-American literature. He was deeply religious and his poem “An Evening Thought,” was published in 1760 as a broadside and noted as the first published writing by an African-American in the U.S.

First African-American Lawyer – Macon Bolling Allen (1816 – 1894) was a self-taught lawyer who was accepted to the bar in Portland, Maine is 1844. Soon after that he was admitted to the bar in Boston and became the first African American Justice of the Peace. Allen moved to South Carolina during the American Civil war where he felt his skills as an abolitionist lawyer could be of use.

First African-American Olympic Gold Medal Winner – At the 1908 Summer Olympics in London, track and field athlete John Baxter Taylor, Jr. (1882 – 1908) earned a gold medal for his part in the U.S. medley relay team. Taylor ran the third leg of the medley race, running 400 meters in 49.8 seconds.

First African-American Woman Elected to Congress – Shirley Chisholm (1924 – 2005) was elected to New York’s Twelfth District congressional seat in the House of Representatives in 1968. In 1972 she became the first major party African-American candidate, and the first woman to run for president.

First African-American to reach the peak of Mount Everest – In 2006 Sophia Danenberg (1972 - ) was the first African-American to reach the summit of Mount Everest, the tallest mountain in the world. She suffered many ailments during her climb and bad weather conditions held back the other members of her climbing party. She and her sherpas were the only climbers to witness the event.

Eat the View: Part 2

2009-02-03T14:00:00.000-08:00

Almost a month ago I posted a video called “This Lawn is Your Lawn”. The video is about the initiative to have the front lawn of the White House be partially converted to a vegetable garden to fill the first kitchen. The movement has been dubbed Victory Garden 2.0 after Eleanor Roosevelt’s WWII era Victory Garden at the White House. I think this is a magnificent idea, and one that Obama should take to heart when he has a moment. I really do believe that if he takes the lead it could have a profound impact on our country in ways we may not be able to calculate. We can’t exactly expect the leader of the free world to focus on something that we find important – then it comes back to us to stand up to do it ourselves.

Around the time that I posted that video Hubby and I had dinner with the Married Couple Collective (MCC) and found that many of us felt the same way about growing our own produce to the extent that we can. The other two wives and I chatted and found that they already had a plan laid out, if not planting beds already built, so they were already ready for planting when the time comes this year. Hubby and I on the other hand, don’t have much in the yard.

When we moved in to this house last year there wasn’t much in the yard but grass and a tree in the back. Last Spring/Summer my main goal was to beautify. We planted three rose bushes, cleaned out some weeds, purchased a lawn mower, and this fall I planted some bulbs. The plan for this season: build planter boxes and grow some veggies for ourselves. The great thing about this plan and the conversation with the MCC, is a built in growing community. We’ve worked out a seed-share program between the three couples to share the packets of seeds that we order.

Really it’s not much. It is just a little bit to provide for me and Hubby, perhaps even share any over abundance I have with others – but my reduced demand in the grocery store might just translate to something larger than I can conceive. I like that.

Being A Good Receptionist: Part 2

2009-01-29T13:17:00.000-08:00

As I have mentioned in other posts I am a receptionist and administrative assistant for a growing company. My tasks day to day vary largely but mostly come down to a few things: 1) being polite and courteous, 2) being knowledgeable about the company I work for, and 3) being open and available to help out almost all of the time.

The second thing on my list is a little bit more complicated and usually comes down to experience and a willingness to gather information. You will get questions from callers about the company and for different people and sometimes people are going to need to get the answers from you. If you are a temp it would be understandable for you to not know how to answer every question that comes to you, but it’s more important to know who to go to in order to answer those questions. And of course, it should go without mention that the longer you are in a certain position/ office the more you should know about it.

Lastly, your job as an administrative assistant is, by its nature, to assist. Learn how to prioritize, and who to prioritize for. I am an admin. for the entire office, and my office my tasks are based on first come first serve basis for all but one VP. Also, I’ve been given the right to say “no” when a project comes along that I don’t have time for. I love that. It is not secret that to be an admin. you need to be a organized person, if you aren’t become one. Make lists, create a filing system for your tasks, and know where and what they mean.

All in all the most important parts of being a receptionist and administrative assistant come down to personality, knowledge, and organization. Even if your goal isn’t to be the best receptionist to grace the office system, it could be an opening in to another position if you work it right.

Being A Good Receptionist: Part 1

2009-01-26T10:19:00.000-08:00

As I have mentioned in the past I am a receptionist and administrative assistant for a growing company. I have been working in this office for a year and a half now, and I started here as a lowly temp in a completely separate position. I often caught a glimpse of the girl that they had at the front desk, and at the time it always seemed to me like she could care less about the job or the company. I remember thinking to myself at the time “how could she have this job?” She looked miserable, unprofessional, and as if she didn’t care. Turned out that she didn’t last long, and I was asked to take the job because I had demonstrated that I was a hard worker in my temp position. In other words: that when the receptionist is unhappy and unprofessional it presents a bad first impression of the company.

Let’s look at it from the other side – the guest. The guest comes in to interview for a job opening and is dressed in a suit and tie and greets the receptionist who is wearing ratty jeans, a t-shirt and a zip up hoody. How does that look to the guest? It looks like an unprofessional office or maybe even makes him feel over dressed. All in all he feels uncomfortable already and maybe he’s thinking this isn’t the kind of office he thought it was. Even if the office is casual with no strict dress code, as mine is, the receptionist should dress on the nicer side of business casual to be, if nothing else, an equilibrium between the company and the guest. The executives in my office frequently wear jeans and a polo shirt if they have no outside meetings that day but I always make it a point to wear dress slacks or well tailored jeans and a blouse.

Another first impression about the company is formed by the guest when the receptionist greets them. This one should be obvious: Smile, say “Hello, how can I help you?” and go from there. It is not too hard to be nice to someone who you will like only interface with for ten minutes or so. I like to update the guest on the status of the person they are meeting with: “They will be right up.” Or “He/she is finishing up a meeting/ phone call and will be with you shortly.” Just so the guest knows if they will be waiting a tremendously long time or not.

The front office area is the domain of the receptionist. Take care of the people that come through it to the best of your ability because you never know when it could benefit you.

Read more in Part 2.

Eat the View

2009-01-12T09:24:00.000-08:00

This Lawn is Your Lawn from roger doiron on Vimeo.

More in Eat the view: Part 2.

The Bibliophile's Dilemma

2009-01-08T09:43:00.000-08:00

As 2009 loomed around the corner I had decided to abstain from the annual tradition of having a New Year’s Resolution. This decision came mostly as a result of my own cynicism and a deep seeded bitterness that “they never really work out anyway”. In past years my resolutions have been either loosely worded with vague meaning (i.e. “I will take better care of myself.”), or something that I have been working on for a long time (i.e. “I will try to buy more organic produce.”) and would likely continue to work on it with out any though to “that’s my resolution!”. In the end, like most resolutions and attempts to better one’s own life, they work out or they don’t. So we can’t say that I necessarily resolved to not make a resolution, because that’s just silly, but the fact that it’s the beginning of a new year and the fact that I stumbled upon this article has sparked a thought in me.

It has been a goal of mine, as it is with many bibliophiles, to read the classics. I am sad to discover that I have only read a mere eight books on that list. At least four of the books were in the top ten. I want to increase the number of books on the list that I have read, but it is not going to happen easily – I am a slow reader and am part of a book group that tends to read more recent publications. On top of that it is impossible for me to read two fiction books at the same time – I tend to get the plots confused. (I know what you’re thinking how did this woman graduate from college with an English degree? Very careful planning. ) I know, I know it’s all the same excuses to not accomplish the aforementioned goal, but I didn’t set a time line on it, nor did I necessarily resolve to do it. Just because I want to at some point accomplish this, and it just happens to be at the beginning of a New Year, that doesn’t make it a resolution. Right? Perhaps purely by my say so it is not a resolution but more of a desire for accomplishment.

Now my internal devil’s advocate says, who dictated that those books find their way to the list of top 100 books of all time? I am sure that these choices were based upon some literary prowess based on style, plot development, word usage, and proper punctuation, but you have to know that someone somewhere would disagree with their choices. It looks like Time Magazine did on a few. So then, what is a book lover to do? Follow someone else’s arbitrary list, or determine one of my own?
That’s it. I know exactly what my non-resolution for 2009 will be. I will read whatever I want to read.

A Blog About Blogs

2008-12-18T15:49:00.000-08:00

I feel as if maybe I have traversed to an ultra lame topic here, but it has been almost a month since my last post and Gods be damned if I go a month without submitting something bordering on intelligent thought to the web world.

I like to surf the web and read other blogs on occasion – okay, quite frequently. In fact, I have a list of about ten blogs which I read frequently. One or two of them are just funny pictures and things that make me laugh, like the Cake Wreck blog (http://cakewrecks.blogspot.com) for example, another is someone local that I admire, like Marc Acito (www.marcacito.com) who is doing something new every day for a year, and others are blogs that search through other blogs for interesting stuff. The thing I like about these blogs and the others that I read, and many of the other popular blogs out there, is that they cater (if you will) to a specific niche interest. These blogs rarely if ever go off the topic of what they were designed for, and that is their draw. So I couldn’t help but think what my blog’s draw is. Not that it much matters since I’m writing it more for myself than anyone else. At least that’s what I like to tell myself anyway.

I’ve been blogging in one form or another for quite a few years now. The former incarnations of my blogs have been something similar to the boring teenage chatter one might find on MySpace, which is partly why I started this one. At the time, and perhaps still, I was struggling with a quarter-life crisis – trying to figure out where in the world I belong now that I was done with school. Well, now that I’ve found my place in the world for the time being, I keep this blog going as I evolve, knowing that I will never be a finished product and that someone else might get some solace in my experiences. Trust me, I’m not getting full of myself or my writing abilities here. All I can do is just write, think I’m saying something valuable, and just be who I am.

John Cleese, How Do I love Thee...

2008-11-21T09:42:00.000-08:00

I was prowling the internet, as I am want to do from time to time, and I discovered that John Cleese has his own blog (I don’t know why I am so surprised by this, all the kids are doin’ it!), and I found this lovely jewel within its webby pages penned by Mr. Cleese:

Ode to Sean Hannity

Aping urbanity,
Oozing with vanity,
Plump as a manatee,
Faking humanity,
Intellectual inanity,
Journalistic calamity,
Fox Noise insanity,
You’re a profanity,
Hannity

Oh, my heart jumps in my chest. I’m sure Hannity has had that joy of such an easily rhyme-able name for the entirety of his life, but you can’t say he didn’t bring it on himself!

I’ve been a Python fan from the moment I knew of their existence (Holy Grail is one of my favorite movies!), and enjoy John Cleese whenever he includes himself on a film (see: Rat Race), and when he would make guest appearances on TV shows that I already enjoy. I seriously need to have a look through his IMDB credits and have my very own Cleese film festival.

I must also admit that my radar had been raised for him recently as the Python boys recently started their own YouTube channel. Truly I have needed something lately to make me giggle, and that’s just the ticket.

NaNoWriMo is taking it out of me lately… even after my little venture off to the coast to write for four days. On schedule to break 40k words tonight (3 days worth of writing ahead of schedule) and if I’m really good I’ll get this thing blown out of the water before turkey day hits.

A little story

2008-11-11T09:40:00.000-08:00

So, apparently I like to start my day by thoroughly embarrassing myself… I had just gotten my first cup of coffee for the morning and was walking back to my desk being careful not to spill the hot liquid on my hand or elsewhere, when something happened just as I got to my desk and the new VP of Marketing walks in the door … and I spill half of my mug of coffee all over the place, on my desk, on the floor, on my chair, on my pants, and – most importantly on my hand. Burning hot coffee on my hand. It takes all of my focus to not drop my mug on the floor and just put it on my desk, excuse myself and run to the bathroom to rinse my hand under cold water and get some paper towels before I help him. Yeah, I’m awesome…

The Results Are In!

2008-11-05T10:08:00.000-08:00

Last night after the election results came in overwhelmingly in favor of Obama, I couldn’t help but be excited. This is the first election since I have been eligible to vote where the man I chose to go to office won – and not just by a little bit. I will be honest, as I have no reason to do otherwise; I’m not really all that in to politics. I believe it my right and duty as an American Woman to vote. As I was telling my coworker, FlatEarth, 90% of the time I don’t really care what’s going on in Washington DC and will generally avoid political topics mostly because I don’t know enough to hold up an intelligent end of the conversation. But I digress.

I had an overwhelming sense of dread going in to Election Day yesterday. I think my sense of optimism was murdered by the previous presidential election when the bushman was put back in office for a second term. Being that I’m not really politically minded, I hadn’t been checking the opinion polls, I hadn’t been reading up on the details and checking political blogs to see what others were thinking I just went in to the day hopeful that our country would go the direction it needed to go.

I was diligently working on my NaNoWriMo novel, trying my damndest to ignore the poles and just get the thing done. I didn’t expect that they would have the results as quickly as they did. I had gotten to 500 words of my 1700 words and clicked over to the NBC website to check the standing at the polls. At that moment the website reloaded to show that Obama was over the 270 electoral votes needed to win and I couldn’t help but scream: “Holy crap!” I ran out to the family room and turned on the TV and sat down in time for them to repeat what I had just seen come over the internet. To say I was elated would be a mild description of my emotions of the moment. I continued to watch completely ignoring anything else that needed to be done while Hubby watched his Twitter feed repeating the funny comments to me.

Several things strike me about the McCain rally/ concession speech versus the Obama rally / acceptance speech and I think that the things that stood out to me are emblematic of the type of person or leader that each would be. McCain’s rally was in a private ballroom in Arizona with an invitation only crowd, this screams exclusiveness to me. Obama’s Rally was in an open air park in Chicago – anyone and everyone could have shown up, this speaks to an open willingness to be comprehensive in everything that he does. As for their speeches, both were eloquent, but the really telling thing to me was the crowd’s response when one would mention the other’s name. While McCain’s concession speech was gracious and supportive of Obama his crowd was considerably less so, booing whenever Obama’s name was mentioned and at one point chanting “We want John” while he was speaking. I can understand their disappointment with the loss of their chosen candidate and perhaps meant this as a way to cheer him up, but in my opinion those tactics are childish. The attitude was of course more celebratory during Obama’s speech but everyone in the thousands gathered was respectful and listened quietly and even cheered once or twice when he mentioned McCain. I believe they saying goes: “you are judged by the company you keep.”

I look forward to President-Elect Obama taking office on January 20, 2009.

I'm The Saddest Sicky You'll Ever Meet

2008-10-27T09:07:00.000-07:00

I don’t like getting sick. Truly, I don’t know many people who do (“Oh wow that cold looks awesome! Can I drink from your glass there?”). But as hubby points out regularly, I am down right pathetic when any type of illness strikes me. I’m not the “suffer in silence” type.

Two weeks ago I had some stomach bug that caused me to pray to the porcelain gods for most of the night, and ultimately took the next day off of work – which I never do. Hubby was sweet and brought me water so I didn’t get dehydrated, and came home for lunch with a container of chicken noodle soup and crackers from our local grocery store. Ultimately it blew over two days later much to my relief and everything was hunky dory.

This past Saturday night hubby and I had our long awaited Halloween Pirate Party. Hubby had kicked his cold for the most part so we seemed all ready to go. Everything went great and we had good food, dirk, and excellent company who could have stayed long past midnight if I hadn’t all of a sudden been felled with the symptoms of Hubby’s cold at the stroke of midnight. Luckily there were only a few revelers left, and I think me starting to clean up may have been a sign for them to exit. Yesterday morning I woke up much later than normal to Cleo whining to be let out and feeling as if I still had a pillow over my face due to the lack of ability to breathe, my throat on fire, and my head buzzing like an angry anthill. My response: groan like I’m dying.

I spent most of yesterday on the couch or in bed bemoaning my fate and wondering if I should call in sick to work again. Ultimately I decided that since I wasn’t really dying I would go to work and go to the store on my break to get some medicine. This morning while getting ready for work, and generally feeling bad for myself I found a set of Dayquil liquid caps in my medicine cabinet that may or may not be more than a year old, I took them in the hopes they would help. As of this moment don't feel nearly as horrible. I'm just hoping the phone doesn't ring all that much today, I don't know how much talking I can do with this sore throat.

What I do know, is that I'm going to be stocking up on the airborne the next chance I get, because I can't really afford to be so pathetic.

NaNo Insane Mo

2008-10-16T14:42:00.000-07:00

Well, it’s come to that time of year again: National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). I have a love hate relationship with November for this reason. This year, like the last two years I have attempted this, I have no idea what to write. Since here we are at mid-October I’m trying to be proactive and come up with something before Nov. 1 rolls around the corner and smacks me square on to my keister. The reason I keep submitting to the glorious torture of NaNoWriMo, other than that I fancy myself a writer, is that the first year I did it, 2004, I was able to complete the challenge of 50,000 words in one month. That in and of itself is what keeps taking me back to the wondrous suffering of the month. The idea that I came up with in 2006 was very half hearted and not well developed at all, and 2007’s effort was developed but probably not enough to carry my interest through to the end.

So, I have made the goal that NaNoWriMo 2008 I will finish. We’ll ignore the fact that that’s what I said last year. And the year before that. This month, I have been trying to prepare myself for the NaNoWriMo by writing unnecessarily verbose emails to friends, family, and coworkers, I find myself eavesdropping on conversations trying to think if it would be a good plot point or story line, and of course I’m totally writing off every idea I come up with thinking I couldn’t get a full novel out of it. Except for one.

When I was in college I took a course in Creative Non-Fiction. Most people make no differentiation between Non-Fiction and Creative Non-Fiction, but oh glory is there a big difference. What you find in text books and newspapers is Non-Fiction, Creative Non-Fiction is how one might qualify a memoir or travel writing for example. My professor explained it that the story is all based on fact and things that really happened but if you can’t remember all of the details (what someone was wearing, how many people were in the room, etc.) certain parts can be fictionalized as long as it is 95% factual and it had to “read like fiction”. I’ve been thinking of trying this for my NaNoWriMo novel writing it much like the book I am reading right now (Eat, Pray, Love) but my main challenge with that is I wonder if my life is really interesting enough to replicate on paper, and after checking my bank account I’m pretty sure I can’t afford to bank roll a trip of self exploration to a different country let alone a hotel for a night.

So I have fifteen days left to decide what I want to write 50,000 words about. Try it, it’s not an easy task.

At Your Administrative Assistance

2008-10-07T10:43:00.000-07:00

I was talking to OfficeNinja on the MAX ride home the other night and we were discussing various projects we were helping out with in the office. She, being OfficeNinja / the in-house go-to when things need to be done, and me, being the Gatekeeper/Assistant at Large, get quite a few projects from various people in the office. What brought up the upcoming part of the discussion was a result of me overhearing someone that I had helped with a large project of theirs talking about said project. I proceeded to tell OfficeNinja about my frustration with not getting any credit for helping out or contributing to the projects, just contributing to someone else’s glory or “the greater good”. I’m fine with helping out on a project, don’t get me wrong, it is a part of my job after all. The part I’m frustrated about is “all the guts, none of the glory”. I suppose that just means I’m annoyed with being a measly assistant instead of a mover and shaker in my company.

Previously I had been happy not to have the responsibility (and the hours) that those positions required, but now I really want to do something other than entertain interviewees, transfer phone calls, and do someone else’s work. Perhaps a lot of the enjoyment I got from working this job previously was a result of me working at The Bank and allowing myself to screw up enough to get fired and send myself into a depression. I liked only taking responsibility for the simplest things – answering the phone when it rings, signing for deliveries, checking the mail regularly, typing up meeting notes coherently, etc. After a year in this position it seems like child’s play now. Maybe that’s just a sign that it’s time for me to move in to something more challenging. Don’t get me wrong, I love working at The Company, always have. There’s a great energy here that would be difficult to find elsewhere. So my goal is to get another job within the company – something that doesn’t require a MBA – and see where it takes me.

To Sleep, Perchance to Dream…

2008-09-16T16:07:00.000-07:00

I usually remember my dreams. I don’t remember them so vividly that you could ask me about it the next week and I would be able to tell you the details, but sometimes there will be a dream that will stick with me for a bit. Last night I had a dream like that. I can’t remember all of the details of it, but one part of the strange conglomeration of ideas stands out above all else. I remember in the dream sitting at the edge of a lake in the middle of a forest, at night, I am partially in the water, and there is a steep drop off just past where I am sitting with another woman who’s face I never see but I am happily chatting with. My two “kidnappers” are diving farther out in the lake looking for coins, but can’t seem to find any. To my surprise I look down at the bank of the lake where I am sitting and notice all of these silver flecks shimmering in the moonlight. As I pull them out one by one I realize that these are the coins the two men are looking for. There seem to be millions of them as I start throwing them in a mason jar I had at hand. The whole situation seems strange to me. Of course it’s strange, it’s dream world.

As I said earlier, the two men diving were my “kidnappers”, but I didn’t feel as if I were being held hostage. And the coins I was collecting (which I thought were all quarters but ended up being a mix of silver coins, mostly dimes)? They were going toward my $10,000 ransom.

I always try to glean my own answers from my dreams. But this one caught me off guard for two reasons: one I hadn’t experienced the elements in it before, and two it has stuck with me for most of the day making me feel like it is important. I was silly and looked at dream analysis websites, none of them lending a helping hand toward what I felt the interpretation might be. So, I’m just going to let it simmer and perhaps the meaning will come to me… or I will go slowly mad trying to figure it out.

I Believe It Is Called a Menagerie

2008-09-10T11:03:00.000-07:00

I have always been a lover of animals. My mom told me once before I moved out of her house that she had had a nightmare that she came to visit adult me and had to literally step over animals no matter where she went. I promised her at that time that it would never be that bad. While I was growing up my family always had just one dog. This is all well and good because, looking back, that one dog didn’t get nearly the attention and love he deserved. I was always pestering my parents for more animals, and they thought for some reason that giving me fish would do the trick. Not so much.

When I graduated from college and moved out on my own I adopted a cat from my now husband’s mother, who couldn’t afford to keep all three of hers. My cat, Tigger, has been my steadfast pal through four moves in as many years, and I think quite content to be the only creature in the house. When hubby and I moved into our own home this January we started to contemplate adding to our little family, but not in the same way most newlyweds do. We wanted a dog. So at the end of March we adopted Cleo in to our life. Cleo is a great dog, very low key, and we joke that she is more cat-like than dog-like, and on top of that could care less about Tigger. As a result of Cleo’s addition to the family, Tigger hid out in the one room Cleo wasn’t able to go in to only making brief ventures out to go to the litter box and after a month or so to come back to sleeping with me. It took at least four full months before Tigger would venture out regularly to make her patented comments on things or occasionally to curl up on my lap while I’m watching TV. I honestly felt bad for her, and there were times when I would seek her out in her hiding spot to pet her that it looked as if she truly missed the attention.

Hubby decided for an anniversary gift he would take me to a shelter and get me a kitten. For the week prior to our journey to visit with kittys needing a good, loving home, I struggled. On the one hand Tigger had taken this long to adjust to having Cleo in the house, how long would it take for her to adjust to a third animal? On the other hand was the kitten who I knew would likely adjust immediately to the living situation and because it was the same species likely make it easier for Tigger to adjust because she’d lived with other cats before. On yet another hand (three hands, creepy), Tigger might like having a kitten to boss around. I came to terms with the whole situation by the time we hopped in the car to go to the shelter. Really I felt like I was getting a friend for her as much as anything else.

Enter Elwood. Elwood is a wiry five month old tuxedo kitten that had called to me from the pages of PetFinder.com for weeks. The shelter suggested we get a young kitten and a boy to make it easier on Tigger. I can tell from their interaction now that Elwood has been with us for over a week that Tigger still doesn’t like it – but accepts it more readily than she did the dog. She knows she can, and will, put Elwood in his place when necessary. Like last night. Tigger was happily laying with me in bed and in blast Elwood and as he flies on to the bed (because we all know kittens don’t actually walk) he discovered that Tigger was where he wanted to be. But Tigger, quickly discerning the situation and not having had a good snuggle in a while put her ears back and gave a low growl. Elwood hopped back a bit and went to lay down next to my husband. Content, Tigger went back to purring. I think Tigger is okay with the situation.

So our house is up to three animals, and I don’t think we will be adding any more any time soon. That will probably make my mom very happy.

Thoughts on Smaller/ Simpler Living

2008-09-03T09:51:00.000-07:00

Some time just after hurricane Katrina happened a blog I read regularly wrote a post about a company called Tumbleweed Tiny Houses. The thing that interested the blogger at the time, having just been a Katrina survivor and losing just about everything she owned to the storm and flooding, was that some of these houses were small enough that they could be hitched up to a car like a trailer and driven away. The thing that interests me is that people actually live in these tiny houses full time. In fact Jay Shafer, the founder of Tumbleweed, lives in one of the smallest house models coming in right under 100sqft of living space.

I don’t know what it is exactly that I find so attractive about these tiny homes. It could just be a novelty or a cute idea to me, but it could be something else too. I was thinking this morning about it and while I know I could never live in a home as small as Jay does – especially with a dog, two cats, and oh yeah my husband. I think the novelty of it for me comes down to living in just the amount of space you need. Here in the US we’re all about bigger is better, but what happens to all of that space you aren’t living in and using on a regular basis? It ultimately becomes wasted space, a decorated show room that you need to dust and clean but never really use. I’m a pack rat. I always have been. I know a lot of the stuff that I have I may never use again but I still keep it around because hey one day I just may need my high school chemistry notes. Ok, I’m not that extreme, but I know people who are. With such a small amount living space it force me, at least I hope that it would, to minimize what and how I consume.

There are many reasons to down size your living space, including what I mentioned before. Ultimately the largest reason is an environmental one. How effective is it for one person to live in a 2000sqft house with all the trimmings? The same person would likely do just as well in half or less space, but our American imperialist attitude is to conquer the space both with ourselves and the things we own. You don’t see that in Europe, you don’t see that in Asia, heck you don’t see it in Canada, because they tend to take advantage of the space they have not the space they believe they are entitled to. But I digress. Ultimately if we all lived in a smaller amount of space then that would leave more for the natural world, and because we are consuming less to fill these spaces it’s better for us environmentally and economically.

Can't Buy My Life

2008-07-07T10:53:00.000-07:00

I recently go back in contact with a cousin on my mom's side of the family who I had not seen or talked to in years. To be honest I had been reluctant to re-initiate contact with her due to lack of contact and familiarity with the majority of my mom's side of the family. But, as my husband pointed out at the time, she took the effort to send me a high school graduation announcement the least we could do is send her a card and wish her well. I took it one step further and included my email address in the card putting the proverbial ball in her court. We started exchanging emails about two weeks ago, nothing too furious since it's like we're getting to know each other all over again.

One of the first things I asked her, which I am sure everyone is asking her, is what she plans to do now. From her response it sounded like she was attending college out of obligation more than a desire to further her education, and therefore really undecided about what she's going to do once she got to college. I think a lot of kids that are graduating from high school may be feeling this way. Like going to college is just what you do after high school and that's really the only reason for it. Like it's training wheels for real life. This may be, but some one is putting up thousands of dollars for those training wheels. I am not by any means saying that this is wrong - hell I will be the first to point out that that's pretty much what I did. But college really is a life in and of itself. I took it as an opportunity to redefine myself as me rather than my parent's child.

I was trying my hardest to avoid the roll of "older wiser cousin" mostly because I did not know how she would take it, but since she brought up that she was undecided about what she would major in, I figured I would pass something on to her and she could take it or leave it. "One of my professors told me this when I had to finalize my major my sophomore year at college: Major in what you love to do, there will be few opportunities in life to spend four years doing what you love. The only time a major REALLY matters is if you want to go to grad school or you want a career in something you need a specific degree for."

To be honest, I think that was one of the best pieces of advice I have ever received, because if you think about it, how many people really use the degree they got? All that matters now is that you have a degree and perhaps where you got it from. I am very happy, for one, to have taken that advice and would likely have regretted making another decision. And no, I'm not using my major or minor on a daily basis but the education itself was very valuable.

Mill Ends Park

2008-07-03T13:41:00.000-07:00

I heard not too long after moving to Portland that among all of the fabulous parks in the city, we had the World's Smallest Park. The story behind this park just goes to show you how original and quirky the people that live in this city can be, and part of why I love it.

Mill Ends Park is 24" in diameter and was acquired by the Portland's Park & Rec in 1976 it is in the center meridian at the intersection of Taylor Rd and Naito Pkwy (Front Ave). Originally this park was supposed to house a light pole, but when the light pole never came, the park's founder Donald Fagan decided to pretty up the useless weed filled dirt spot and planted flowers in it.

Read more about it here: http://www.portlandonline.com/parks/finder/index.cfm?PropertyID=265&action=ViewPark
or here:
http://bitsandpieces.us/2008/06/30/worlds-smallest-designated-city-park/

Wedding Bells

2008-06-27T08:48:00.000-07:00

Someone I had met a while ago sent me an IM last night about fifteen minutes before I was to leave work for the day simply saying: "How did you plan a wedding and not go crazy?" I responded simply: Lists. But she responded "No, I've got that down. I mean with the family drama." That subject is something that they don't really talk about in the wedding magazines and I think everyone deals with. I was fairly fortunate, I think, to come away with only a small amount of manageable drama. Here is what I said to her in an email later:

"As for family drama there were two things that I noticed that really came out around my wedding time. 1) Other people trying to force their opinions on you and trying to make up for their own wedding, and 2) imagining that the wedding day would some how cause peace among otherwise warring parties (be it family members or friends). The key to drama like that is being realistic knowing that it's YOUR wedding. While it will be a happy occasion, it will not align the planets and cause people to like each other any more than they already do. That usually takes a lot of alcohol. :-D Just kidding about the alcohol. But in all honesty you can't take it all to heart, you can't make it all your problem, if you do in the end you'll just make yourself crazy and nothing will have been solved. This is your special day, make it what you want it to be.

And when the big day finally arrives just remember to breathe and relax, everything is taken care of. If something goes wrong? Then let it. Worst case scenario is you'll have a great story to tell and then have to go to a justice of the peace the next day."

I hope this helps out anyone else out there who is suffering under the pull of family drama.

Does the written word remain?

2008-06-10T11:40:00.001-07:00

I have been part of a fairly active book club for almost a year now. The book we are currently reading is The Time Traveler’s Wife by Audrey Niffenegger. The main female character, Clare, is an artist. In one small portion of the story that I just read she talks about the strain between being an artist and being able to support yourself and also allowing time to nurture your artistic side. It’s a difficult balance. I struggle with it myself and still haven’t found a way that works for me. I frequently feel as if my artistic side it starving because I don’t take the time to write or sew or doodle any more.

The last few years I have endeavored upon a writing adventure known worldwide as National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). What is NaNoWriMo you may ask? NaNoWriMo happens during the month of November and participants attempt to write a 50,000 word novel from scratch (more about it at nanowrimo.org). This is a mighty feat, one which have only attained once in the four times I have attempted it. To be honest, it’s my own fault. But I had a good excuse. I always have a good excuse for not doing the things I love. Mostly I’m sure it’s just pure laziness. And that’s why I continue to kick myself. The one year I did complete the goal I was working part time, no more than thirty hours a week, and was living mostly alone. Having more free time allowed me to concentrate on that 1700 words a day goal.

Now that I am working full time, have a 45 minute to an hour commute on each side of my 8 to 5 work day. I feel like I barely have time to do the things I need to do let alone the things I want to do. With that in mind, I frequently find myself not working on the artsy things I enjoy doing. Like sewing or writing and even art on occasion. I suppose this blog is a decent substitute for my lack of writing otherwise, but there is no substitute for thrill of creating something new and exciting that I am truly proud of.

So then the dichotomy remains. I will continue to create in spurts when the moment catches me just at a good point where I have enough time to follow through with it, or I will continue to not create at all. Sometimes I wish I could have the best of both worlds.

Democratic Debacle

2008-05-07T11:44:00.000-07:00

Things are getting pretty heated in the Democratic race for the presidency. Everyone knows that. Unless, of course, you have been living in a subterranean cave on a tiny island with no outside contact. The thing that strikes me the most is that everyone I have talked to about it is firmly planted on one candidate or the other, no one seems to be waffling like me, and with the Oregon primary in two weeks and it quickly gaining more importance than it’s ever had before, I really feel as if I should set down an official decision for myself.

To be honest, previously when asked I would sheepishly reply that I was a Hillary supporter, but that decision on my part was almost completely superficial. My opinion was based on three things: 1) she is a woman, and hey so am I! 2) If her presidency is anything like Bill’s was it would put us back into a good place as a country (for a moment let’s ignore the whole infidelity thing), it would take us out of the recession in the very least. 3) To be so strong as to cope with Bill’s infidelity under such a fine microscope and keep her head about her, I would have no qualms about her handling the country’s crises in a similar calm and direct fashion. I realize that these things are all opinion and not fact based on my part at all, which causes me to look back at Obama. Obama’s whole platform is change. I think everyone agrees that is what this country needs. He seems to be a strong, even tempered person with strong ethics. But where do we go from there.

Ultimately what it comes down to is: I am an uninformed voter, and it’s my own fault for being that way. What I really want is to know their stance on the issues I care about and what is most important to them. Yeah they can sit there and blabber about education, the environment, and what they will do about the cost of gas, but if really those are all just campaign promises unless they personally feel strongly about it then IT WILL GET DONE. I am currently trying to read through the issues pages on each of the candidates web sites. Hillary’s issues page seems to be arranged in a way that shows what is important to her, Obama’s is in alphabetical order.

I am trying to avoid being influenced by anyone else’s personal opinion and therefore avoiding other political websites for the moment, but we shall see when the time comes.

Slowly Going Mad

2008-03-27T08:50:00.000-07:00

I like to read – probably not as much as a lot of other people, but I do enjoy it. I am always surprised when a book affects me in a profound way - because it does not happen to me all that frequently. This is likely due to the fact that I use reading as an escape rather than a reality check.

I just finished reading The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath. If ever I identified with a book and a story line, it was that one. It wasn’t so much the plot itself but the emotional down fall and the realization that you don’t really want to be who society and your parents have prepared you to be. The main character, Esther, finds herself slowly dissolving from society’s expectations of her and floundering to find her own definition of self.

All in all, I came away from The Bell Jar being glad that I read it because of it’s place in literature, but being depressed by it because the story reminded too much of my own struggles.

Spare A Quarter?

2008-03-03T16:52:00.000-08:00

As I mentioned in my previous post I am now working downtown. It’s interesting how different “the city” is from out in what may lovingly be considered the suburbs. This has become blaringly apparent to me in the over six months I have been working in the heart of Portland’s downtown.

One major thing that I notice daily, and hope to avoid more often than not, are the panhandlers. Technically they aren’t doing anything wrong as long as they don’t interfere with the “progress” of the pedestrians (the same goes for those trying to get petitions signed and handing out pamphlets) but realistically what do they expect from us, the passerby? They probably know that they aren’t going to get hundreds of dollars especially since a majority of the passersby do so regularly. The panhandlers I pass regularly have found comfort in front of a Rite Aid store that is almost to the MAX stop, so I am forced to walk by them every day in my best attempt to get home.

There are those that my heart breaks for, those I am annoyed by, and those that I wish would just go away.

My heart breaks for: the man who sits in a wheel chair on the sidewalk, no matter the weather, every morning with a small sign that says “I need money for the basics: Rent & Food.” He looks to be a veteran and not capable of doing much else to provide for himself. I would much prefer to buy him a cup of coffee or a sandwich than just give him some spare change and hopes he will get by.

Those I am annoyed by: He is an older man with a long beard and leather jacket. He looks like an old biker type to me. I am pretty sure he is not homeless since I have never seen him with any type of belongings other than what he is wearing. His position floats so I can never be sure as to where or when I will run in to him, but I seem him at least once a week. His standard greeting is an overly enunciated: “Spare a quarter?”. Something just bothers me about his demeanor and tone of voice. I suppose he’s much more abrasive than I expect a panhandler to be.

Those I wish would go away: There’s a group that looks to be in their early twenties that always have a beautiful and well behaved pit bull with them. This group varies between talking amongst themselves with their collection hat set out on the street to asking the passerby for money and then yelling something to / at them after they walk by without responding to their request. I’m pretty sure that this group has chosen this way of life, which makes me feel even less like tossing them a quarter.

I have nothing against these people, or panhandlers in general, but I think I have become hardened to their presence because I am guaranteed to encounter at least one everyday. I don’t want to feel like they are just taking up sidewalk, I feel badly that I have lost my humanity toward them and a part of me wishes that I could help them out and give them what they really need and not just a quarter. The reality is though that I know I can’t give them what they need; perhaps even they don’t know. I can barely give myself everything I need right now. Call me cold hearted if you will, but I realized not to long ago that I would quickly make myself broke if I gave a quarter every time to each panhandler that asked.

Driving Me Crazy

2007-10-21T10:45:00.000-07:00

Since starting my newest assignment a little over a month and a half ago in downtown Portland I have experienced a new joy: our light rail system, lovingly called MAX (Merto Area Transit).

At 7 in the morning I leave my house, still encased in the morning darkness of early fall, I have an easy drive with nice light traffic. The opposite is usually the case once I get on the train. The start of the week is normally fuller than the end, but by the time I get on there is little chance of me getting a seat let alone finding an open wall to lean against while I read. It pleases me from an ecological sense that so many people take advantage of this form of transportation rather than driving to downtown.

My choice to take the MAX every day instead of driving was both ecological as well as economical. I'll be honest, it's more so the latter if one takes the following into consideration. Gas is now at $2.95/gallon and the drive is 10 miles each way, parking downtown can be a little stressful to find first of all and can cost upwards of $10 a day, taking all of that into consideration driving myself downtown could get expensive really quickly and I would like to keep more of my paycheck. At $2.05 per ride (less if a monthly pass is purchased and you ride the MAX more than 37 times in a month), and for me a three mile drive to the station, the exchange is well worth it.

At the tone you know what to do...

2007-09-27T22:07:00.000-07:00

After calling people almost all day everyday for the past few weeks and for the most part getting an answering machine message I have a few observations to make. One: The prerecorded message that comes with the machine is very annoying. Two: do not have your small children make the message, yes it's cute the first time but after that I really would prefer just about anything else. Three: Do NOT just record your favorite song for your message, I do not want to sit there and listen to Beyonce or George Straight for a minute just because it's YOUR favorite song.

Ship This!

2007-09-25T18:07:00.000-07:00

I spent about half of my day today on the phone with various "representatives" of Fed Ex trying to track down five packages that have no shipping history after being picked up each over a week ago. Let me tell you, they must be having some serious problems with their package tracking systems because of these five packages three were express shipping, two were ground shipping and none could be found. Mind you these were not the only packages we were having picked up and being neither on the sending or receiving end we really are flying blindly as to what the website or our shippers are telling us. Of the three express packages, one was picked up and never scanned again, one was never actually picked up (yet was scanned as such on the website), and yet another was confused for a ground package and delayed. The two actual ground packages I have no actual hope of ever tracking down though the (mostly) kind people on the other end of the phone seemed to assure me other wise. I say mostly kind because there was one gentleman I encountered in my five or so phone calls today that did not in any way seem helpful or willing to divulge information that many of the other representatives had given me freely, like the case number. I had another one who was quite genial but disconnected our phone call after putting me on hold for ten minutes. All in all I am not dissatisfied with my phone conversations as I, for the most part, got the information and assistance I was seeking but all in all my faith in their abilities to keep track of a package are dwindling rapidly.

Workin' at the Car Wash

2007-09-09T18:16:00.000-07:00

I think everything comes down to whether you are willing to put the time and effort in to it. As I mentioned in a post not too long ago, I have a Beetle. Well, as it happens my car got dirty in the two months I have called her mine. Something I have noticed with this car is that the color shows dirt a lot sooner than my other car did. Not nearly as badly as my husband's "atomic blue" Civic though. So, after a trip to Cost-co and the grocery store we decided the weather was nice enough and would stay nice long enough for it to be worthwhile to bathe our respective vehicles.

It's been a good while since I've sudsed up my own vehicle, although it is really not all that complicated my husband likes to make it that way. "You have to spray in an up and down motion to get the dirt to run off properly, and then wash in a circular motion. Most importantly when you're drying go top to bottom in one smooth line so that it won't streak," he instructs me. I didn't realize that this process was so complicated. It would be a lot easier if I just took it to the car wash down the road.

The most complicated part of washing my car myself is that we live in an apartment complex. I suspect that our strutting around to "Sympathy for the Devil" as we go through the appropriate movements involved in washing a vehicle in the complex's shared space where we all spend as little time as possible on a regular basis can cause a mixture of emotions. I can never tell if it amuses or annoys our neighbors when we get around to doing this, perhaps it's a fair blend of both.

The Ballad of the Unemployeed

2007-09-04T23:22:00.001-07:00

I find myself once again in the realm of unemployment. I have always thought of myself as a diligent, hard working employee, some one that an employer would be proud to have on staff. But in the past year I have discovered myself to be ... lacking. Now, I don't quite know for sure if the jobs that I've had while in this area just don't suit me and my skill set but nothing has lasted. Is it really too much to ask for a little stability? I suppose it is probably my own fault for jumping headlong in to things that really aren't my forte and end up being unhappy and not putting my best effort in to things.

Today I went back to a temp agency that I had done some work for last year and got a brief assignment to watch the phones at University of Phoenix for five hours this evening, purely by chance. I answered the phone all of four times this evening and spent the rest of the evening going through anything remotely interesting to me in the Oregonian from Friday and today. My other success was drawing a beautiful picture on a post it note as well as getting hit on by two of the male students. Oh yeah, get a little padding for the bank account and get an ego boost to go ;-)

A Year in Review

2007-09-02T09:59:00.000-07:00

Has it really been a year already? I'm not going to be cliche and say that it seems like just yesterday I was walking down the isle to become a Mrs., but holy cow it doesn't seem like that long ago. Perhaps that's a good thing.

Ben and I got married on what was very near to our three year "getting together" anniversary, so it seems that this past year might just be another tally wherever we happen to be keeping track. But this past year was so much more than that. We redefined ourselves as a married couple, no longer just two individuals who happen to be living together but something so much more than that. It seems that people expect so much more from you as a married couple, when in reality nothing really changed except that we got up in front of our friends and family and made it official. Or has it?

A week ago Ben and I had the pleasure of participating in a good friend's wedding. This was the first wedding that we had attended since exchanging our own vows. While I was listening to the happy couple say their "I dos" I couldn't help but think of our own moments where we had to be strong for each other and others where we made each other laugh uncontrollably. I can't put in to words how I feel about the man that I call my husband, all I can say is that I'm blessed to have this man in my life.

With the population boom, I don't think I need to help

2007-08-29T17:40:00.000-07:00

I would like to start off by saying that this is in no way a personal judgment on anyone with children or planning to have children. This is a topic that has come up for me quite regularly and I thought I would write out my thoughts on it.

I've been married for almost a year now, and since the day I became engaged the question that almost immediately would follow was: "when do you plan to have children?". Our initial response was usually "about two years" or "when we're ready". Much like the rhyme from childhood (First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby...), that's the natural progression of things. But what the rhyme leaves out is what comes after the baby, and that's often what I think about. For the past few years I have worked in retail, and I have seen some very unhappy mothers with children in tow. Each time I would see someone in that situation I would shrink back and think to myself that I don't want it to be me. I don't want to be the soccer mom grudgingly dragging her children from one activity to the next and living only for the children. To be fair, I have seen some very happy mothers, and seeing them gave me the warm fuzzy feeling that my friend calls "the baby oggle". In that moment I see the happier side: playing with the child, and bonding on hiking trips etc. The happy ideas have yet to overcome the unhappy ones. I'm told that one day my biologics will over ride my brain and I will want a child no matter what; I don't know if that is true or not, but what I do know is my brain keeps screaming no every time a small child starts to cry. There's more to it than that.

At this point in my life, I have to ask myself if I really want someone that dependent on me and my time. I still want to travel the world, I want to learn, I want to be able to take off to the beach at a moments notice because I can and not have to worry about the responsibility yet. On top of that, children are expensive. Financing someone else's future is really something that I won't take lightly and I know that if I want to bring another life in to this world our financial status will have to change.

It all comes down to two things: maturity and financial readiness. Neither are present in my life at the moment, so then having a child isn't really an option either.

Little Orange Beetle, That's how I roll

2007-08-27T15:14:00.000-07:00

I got my first car not too long ago. I was fortunate enough to inherit an operational vehicle that wasn't in anyway embarrassing for me to get to and fro in. This vehicle was a 1995 Nissan Altima in the color of "Champagne Beige". Really, no one can complain about receiving a vehicle for practically nothing that requires little to no upkeep. One thing I would have cause to comment on: this vehicle had the outward personality of a rock. Meaning: Yeah, it was a car and it got me where I needed to go but it was not really distinguishable from any other car similar to it on the road.

I was in a position as of late to replace the '95 Altima. Mind you, I was in no real hurry to do so as it was completely paid off and the insurance premium on it was low, but because the car was near to twelve years old the repairs were getting such that they would be equal to payments on a newer vehicle and the stress factor was immeasurable. So at the end of June my husband and I began a vigilant search for a newer affordable vehicle for me. To be honest, I had no specific car in mind though I did have certain criteria it should meet: price, gas millage, year, and condition.

All in all I came out with a car that I've been dreaming of since I realized it's existence: a VW Beetle. The lot where I found her had three used Beetles, one silver, one light blue convertible, and an orange one with "all the fixin's". Now, in my personal opinion if you are going to drive a vehicle like the Beetle (or any other vehicle that's highly identifiable) one should really get it in a fun color. So that automatically nixed the silver one as an option. Secondly, I live in Portland, Oregon where if you're really lucky you get a good three months without rain, thusly making the convertible an impractical option. This put me squarely in the driver's seat of what I now consider to be my dream car. Not only is my 2003 VW New Beetle in Sundown Orange fun to drive, and highly maneuverable, but it's got personality. And I'm proud to say that I have only seen three others in the Portland area with the same make model and color option. As silly as this may sound, that means a lot to me.