On.Saturday,.my.credit.card.machine.died.in.the.middle.of.the.show.I.was.doing.
On.Sunday,.my.normally.reasonably.well-behaved.daughter.ripped.the.drapes.down.in.a.restaurant.
Today?..You.may.have.guessed.this...the.space.bar.on.my.computer.died...Copying.the.hard.drive.tonight.so.I.can.send.it.for.warranty.service.tomorrow.
ARGH!
Jul 30, 2007
Jul 17, 2007
Generalism
I am a generalist. This was brought home again to me tonight as I discussed with my husband my wish to someday study linguistics (and comparative religions and Quenya and French and economics and sociology and painting and costume design and metaphysics, and, and...). There is just not enough time in life to learn all I want to know. This is hard to accept, of course, so I slide through one subject to another, learning just enough to be conversant.
I struggle with being a generalist - the money's with the specialists, I know, and the glory, in general. Specialists can find a cure for cancer. Specialists can bring fresh water to third world countries. Specialists can send a man to the moon. Specialists can create a computer that thinks for itself (although, having seen Terminator 3, I am not so certain is a good idea.)
Still, we generalists have a lot to offer the world that specialists don't really - the breadth of our experiences breeds a compassion and ability to understand a vast array of situations at least a rudimentary level. I have found that, in general, most specialists are less able to do that - being so wrapped up in a single subject by necessity lessens the time available to develop a more comprehensive frame of reference. Generalists make good leaders for that reason. Generalists make good parents for that reason as well. Generalists are able to see beyond the controlled scientific parameters to real world repercussions. Generalists can extrapolate to the outside paradigm in a way that many specialists have difficult in doing.
I have made great progress in accepting myself as a generalist. I have accepted myself to the extent that I have been able to structure my life in a way that, for the most part, meets my generalist needs without an exceeding amount of guilt. My life's plethora of part time occupations, some paid, some not, is far more satisfying to my basic nature than a single focus.
/preachy metaphysical section
And, basically, if we try to fight our basic natures, aren't we trying to fight what The Light wants for us? If we accept that we are created in the image of The Light; to reject that is to reject The Light in some way, wouldn't you say? If you want my opinion, well, ok, even if you don't want it!... all that is required of us is to love. Not just each other but ourselves as well. I think, for some of us, the biggest struggle we have is to love ourselves. Is that The Dark at work? I can't say but I wouldn't doubt it. There is nothing The Dark loves more than to separate us from The Light. The Light wants us to love ourselves as reflections of Its love and Itself and when we fail to do that, we do give The Dark an opening.
/end preachy metaphysical section
So, whether you be a specialist and have the monetary and social rewards of same or a generalist and wondering what your worth could possibly be, remember The Light shines in all of us; it's just that some of us cast a broader, more diffused beam.
I, myself, will keep trying.
I struggle with being a generalist - the money's with the specialists, I know, and the glory, in general. Specialists can find a cure for cancer. Specialists can bring fresh water to third world countries. Specialists can send a man to the moon. Specialists can create a computer that thinks for itself (although, having seen Terminator 3, I am not so certain is a good idea.)
Still, we generalists have a lot to offer the world that specialists don't really - the breadth of our experiences breeds a compassion and ability to understand a vast array of situations at least a rudimentary level. I have found that, in general, most specialists are less able to do that - being so wrapped up in a single subject by necessity lessens the time available to develop a more comprehensive frame of reference. Generalists make good leaders for that reason. Generalists make good parents for that reason as well. Generalists are able to see beyond the controlled scientific parameters to real world repercussions. Generalists can extrapolate to the outside paradigm in a way that many specialists have difficult in doing.
I have made great progress in accepting myself as a generalist. I have accepted myself to the extent that I have been able to structure my life in a way that, for the most part, meets my generalist needs without an exceeding amount of guilt. My life's plethora of part time occupations, some paid, some not, is far more satisfying to my basic nature than a single focus.
/preachy metaphysical section
And, basically, if we try to fight our basic natures, aren't we trying to fight what The Light wants for us? If we accept that we are created in the image of The Light; to reject that is to reject The Light in some way, wouldn't you say? If you want my opinion, well, ok, even if you don't want it!... all that is required of us is to love. Not just each other but ourselves as well. I think, for some of us, the biggest struggle we have is to love ourselves. Is that The Dark at work? I can't say but I wouldn't doubt it. There is nothing The Dark loves more than to separate us from The Light. The Light wants us to love ourselves as reflections of Its love and Itself and when we fail to do that, we do give The Dark an opening.
/end preachy metaphysical section
So, whether you be a specialist and have the monetary and social rewards of same or a generalist and wondering what your worth could possibly be, remember The Light shines in all of us; it's just that some of us cast a broader, more diffused beam.
I, myself, will keep trying.
Jul 15, 2007
Yes Please
This is a pleased as punch post.
My daughter is upstairs wailing her fool head off and has been off and on for the last two hours.
So why am I pleased as punch?
Because this last time, when I went up, gave her Motrin, changed her diaper, rocked her, put her back to bed, and asked if she wanted her music on, she nodded (she hasn't say 'yes', as yes, yet; she typically nods and grunts). I said, "yes?", and she said, God bless her, "Yes please."
Can't beat that with a stick!
My daughter is upstairs wailing her fool head off and has been off and on for the last two hours.
So why am I pleased as punch?
Because this last time, when I went up, gave her Motrin, changed her diaper, rocked her, put her back to bed, and asked if she wanted her music on, she nodded (she hasn't say 'yes', as yes, yet; she typically nods and grunts). I said, "yes?", and she said, God bless her, "Yes please."
Can't beat that with a stick!
Jul 11, 2007
Jul 6, 2007
Eight is Enough
Ok, I was tagged by Jade and, as she said, since she did what I told her to do, turnabout is only fair play. Still, 8 things people don't know is kind of tough... Maybe it'll have to be 8 things *most* people don't know...
1. Um... Oh! I have one. When I was in sixth grade, some jerk dumped my purse in the toilet. Oh, wait a minute, you knew that one because I think it was in my memories leading up to my 40th. Ok... Here's one... I had to go to "Special Gym" as an elementary school student because my fine motor coordination was so poor. In Special Gym, we did things like traces our way through mazes with a pencil without letting the pencil touch the side "walls" of the maze. We also practiced making neat and tidy cuts with scissors.
2. When I was in 8th grade, I almost got beat up over a boy who didn't know I existed by said boy's jealous girlfriend. I got out of it because my friend Nora told her I wouldn't defend myself and she refused to fight anyone who wouldn't. Truth be told, I wouldn't have had the first idea *how* to defend myself!
3. When I was pregnant, I went through 3 sets of batteries for my vibrator. Heh heh heh... (TMI? Sorry - I'm only on 3 and I'm already stretching for things folks don't know.)
4. I think my mother is a spoiled brat.
5. I both loved and hated that my grandmother made almost all of my clothes in elementary school.
6. My feet were so wide as a child (EEE) that my shoes had to be special ordered. My feet remained disproportionately wide until I got pregnant then they stretched lengthwise and sometimes now I can buy medium width shoes.
7. I have always longed for a pair of leather pants (but am pretty sure they'd make me look as if the leather was still on the cow).
8. The best day of my life was not my wedding day nor the day Katie was born but the day I got my pilot's license. This probably says something horrible about me, which bothers me but the truth is what the truth is, I guess. I think why it's that way though is that while both the wedding day and the day Katie was born were the culmination of hard work and lots of love and were incredible moments in my life, each had so many complicating factors... exhaustion in both cases, looking after guests at the wedding, having just had major surgery after 36 hours of unproductive labor with Katie's birth... and the license was just pure elation. That license is the achievement I am proudest of - being a pilot didn't come naturally to me (coordination issues) but it is something I have wanted to do from the time I was very small and it still amazes me that I made that happen.
and a spare, in case you didn't like the vibrator one...
When I recall my wedding day, I immediately get a hint of a crick in my neck. John kept putting his arm around my shoulders - on *top* of the veil. This pulled my head back into a very unnatural position and resulted in me looking quite pained in many of our formal wedding pictures.
1. Um... Oh! I have one. When I was in sixth grade, some jerk dumped my purse in the toilet. Oh, wait a minute, you knew that one because I think it was in my memories leading up to my 40th. Ok... Here's one... I had to go to "Special Gym" as an elementary school student because my fine motor coordination was so poor. In Special Gym, we did things like traces our way through mazes with a pencil without letting the pencil touch the side "walls" of the maze. We also practiced making neat and tidy cuts with scissors.
2. When I was in 8th grade, I almost got beat up over a boy who didn't know I existed by said boy's jealous girlfriend. I got out of it because my friend Nora told her I wouldn't defend myself and she refused to fight anyone who wouldn't. Truth be told, I wouldn't have had the first idea *how* to defend myself!
3. When I was pregnant, I went through 3 sets of batteries for my vibrator. Heh heh heh... (TMI? Sorry - I'm only on 3 and I'm already stretching for things folks don't know.)
4. I think my mother is a spoiled brat.
5. I both loved and hated that my grandmother made almost all of my clothes in elementary school.
6. My feet were so wide as a child (EEE) that my shoes had to be special ordered. My feet remained disproportionately wide until I got pregnant then they stretched lengthwise and sometimes now I can buy medium width shoes.
7. I have always longed for a pair of leather pants (but am pretty sure they'd make me look as if the leather was still on the cow).
8. The best day of my life was not my wedding day nor the day Katie was born but the day I got my pilot's license. This probably says something horrible about me, which bothers me but the truth is what the truth is, I guess. I think why it's that way though is that while both the wedding day and the day Katie was born were the culmination of hard work and lots of love and were incredible moments in my life, each had so many complicating factors... exhaustion in both cases, looking after guests at the wedding, having just had major surgery after 36 hours of unproductive labor with Katie's birth... and the license was just pure elation. That license is the achievement I am proudest of - being a pilot didn't come naturally to me (coordination issues) but it is something I have wanted to do from the time I was very small and it still amazes me that I made that happen.
and a spare, in case you didn't like the vibrator one...
When I recall my wedding day, I immediately get a hint of a crick in my neck. John kept putting his arm around my shoulders - on *top* of the veil. This pulled my head back into a very unnatural position and resulted in me looking quite pained in many of our formal wedding pictures.
Jul 5, 2007
I Think I've Lost It
My cellphone, that is. We left for the weekend and realized, about 15 minutes down the road, that I didn't have my cellphone. Eh, says I, let's just keep going; I'm not going to need it this weekend anyway. Welp, shoulda turned back when I could've still dialed my cellphone to find it by its ring. Battery is dead (tried calling, went straight to vmail). I know it is in this house somewhere. God alone knows where. We have looked and looked and looked. I don't want to have to buy a new one. They're expensive and I'd have to get the totally ungadgety one given my budget (whine!!!!). I want MY cellphone (even if the battery is going and it's all scraped up - it's mine, darn it!) (WHIIIIIIIIIIIIINE.)
Ok, on to other things.
Been having weird dreams lately. I don't like weird dreams. Frankly, I can almost handle the dreams where people are trying to kill me (I get those a lot) better than the weird ones that leave me disconsolate. I dreamed, for instance, that I went with my husband to a wedding in the city where I grew up. We hadn't thought we were going to make it but wound up being able to go to the reception, which was at a club. Now, for some reason, we brought some kind of cake with raspberry goo and coconut on it and when the bouncer saw us, he refused to believe we were invited because of the cake. We convinced him to at least let us leave the bride a note so that she would know we had been there. In the process of writing the note, we managed to sneak into the reception. Ok, so far so good, if a bit weird. The reception is now over. We're headed out. For some reason, John goes to get the car while I stay there. He never shows up with the car. It gets later, more people leave, eventually the parking lot across the street is empty but for 2 or 3 cars and I am forced to admit to myself that he left without me. Uh oh. Not good. Going to have to walk the 30 miles back out to the house where I grew up. The dream then cut to a scene with John and myself where it becomes clear that he didn't just leave without me, he left me, period. Apparently because he was sick and tired of me having to go back inside places to get my jacket(s). In the dream, I am confused and distraught. I wake up and am confused and disconsolate.
That dream was followed by one where I was on the phone with the head of the Parks and Rec department trying to sign Katie up for swimming and him insisting heatedly that he didn't think I should do that. Like talking to a wall.
And that, in general, about sums up our trip to Syracuse this past weekend - tiring, frustrating, and discombobulating.
Ok, on to other things.
Been having weird dreams lately. I don't like weird dreams. Frankly, I can almost handle the dreams where people are trying to kill me (I get those a lot) better than the weird ones that leave me disconsolate. I dreamed, for instance, that I went with my husband to a wedding in the city where I grew up. We hadn't thought we were going to make it but wound up being able to go to the reception, which was at a club. Now, for some reason, we brought some kind of cake with raspberry goo and coconut on it and when the bouncer saw us, he refused to believe we were invited because of the cake. We convinced him to at least let us leave the bride a note so that she would know we had been there. In the process of writing the note, we managed to sneak into the reception. Ok, so far so good, if a bit weird. The reception is now over. We're headed out. For some reason, John goes to get the car while I stay there. He never shows up with the car. It gets later, more people leave, eventually the parking lot across the street is empty but for 2 or 3 cars and I am forced to admit to myself that he left without me. Uh oh. Not good. Going to have to walk the 30 miles back out to the house where I grew up. The dream then cut to a scene with John and myself where it becomes clear that he didn't just leave without me, he left me, period. Apparently because he was sick and tired of me having to go back inside places to get my jacket(s). In the dream, I am confused and distraught. I wake up and am confused and disconsolate.
That dream was followed by one where I was on the phone with the head of the Parks and Rec department trying to sign Katie up for swimming and him insisting heatedly that he didn't think I should do that. Like talking to a wall.
And that, in general, about sums up our trip to Syracuse this past weekend - tiring, frustrating, and discombobulating.
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