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Mango Daquiri
Courtesy of The Swank Pad.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Shaken, not stirred
Things are definitely getting shaken up. I am still intent on finding a job in Boston, but I'm letting the "search" go for now. I realized yesterday it was really stressing me out. Truth is we wouldn't be moving until next year at the earliest anyway, so what's the point of looking at dumb jobs online now? Also, I say F.U. to Moster, CareerBuilder, and all the other lame-o job search engines that are useless unless 1. you're a computer nerd 2. you're a medical transcriptionist or 3. you are a pre-school teacher.
This doesn't mean I'm giving up on Boston, but I realize that I need to take my time to "create" the perfect job for me. Which means I have to figure out what the heck that means. And luckily, I have time. When I do figure it out, I will go to a head hunter for non-academic jobs. The academic jobs for next Fall will be posted over the winter (which will give me something to do other than freeze into a block of Bizarro on the futon this year). I'm going to do this right - well-thought out, with clear intent, no running after the first piece of slag thrown my way.
Those of you who know my past know that I've bounced around alot. I'm done bouncing. I need to develop a VISION STATEMENT for my life and then go from there.
I do think, however, that my years as an adjunct have caught up with me. There is a documented phenomenon in academia where those who've taught as adjuncts for a number of years, no matter how they try for a full-time position, will always be considered as "adjunct material." I experienced this at a prominent university in Boston this summer. I interviewed with them in June, and earlier this month they offered me an adjunct spot, and were willing to give me full time hours. However, when I applied for a full time spot that opened up in the meantime (there were 2 spots, actually), they declined to even bring me in for a second interview. This tells me something - perhaps I've reached that point. Not that I will give up entirely on academia, but I may well have to realize the truth of it. And truth be told, I'm not convinced that teaching is what I want to do for the rest of my life. Yes, EVERYTHING is getting shaken up!
And what I have found to be a much more meaningful use of my time, and what I am most inclined to do... is to write. It feels like a job, now, not something I cram in between other shit I have to do. So for the remainder of the summer I'm a writer first, all else second. This has worked out well - I finished revisions to the sci fi and will do revisions on my 1950s coming of age story for a writer's group in late August. Deadlines are good for me.
Another exciting development is Bizarro's passion for reorganizing his life at home - he's been reading magazines and websites about how to organize your stuff, and we both have the same Mid-century Modern swank sensibilities, which works out well for our shared living space. The energy in here is getting shaken up and it feels GOOD!
Oh and a small note but with fabulous results - I have one of those drop-chandelier things (not with crystals, it's black faux-wrought iron) in the room where I write. I replaced the little bulbs with Reveal Light bulbs that mimic daylight's colors instead of giving off that sickly yellow. It has made my writing nook more comfortable and I don't feel my eye balls falling out of my head after a couple hours here. Next job will be to get a proper desk lamp. Let there be light!
As someone once said, "change is good."
This doesn't mean I'm giving up on Boston, but I realize that I need to take my time to "create" the perfect job for me. Which means I have to figure out what the heck that means. And luckily, I have time. When I do figure it out, I will go to a head hunter for non-academic jobs. The academic jobs for next Fall will be posted over the winter (which will give me something to do other than freeze into a block of Bizarro on the futon this year). I'm going to do this right - well-thought out, with clear intent, no running after the first piece of slag thrown my way.
Those of you who know my past know that I've bounced around alot. I'm done bouncing. I need to develop a VISION STATEMENT for my life and then go from there.
I do think, however, that my years as an adjunct have caught up with me. There is a documented phenomenon in academia where those who've taught as adjuncts for a number of years, no matter how they try for a full-time position, will always be considered as "adjunct material." I experienced this at a prominent university in Boston this summer. I interviewed with them in June, and earlier this month they offered me an adjunct spot, and were willing to give me full time hours. However, when I applied for a full time spot that opened up in the meantime (there were 2 spots, actually), they declined to even bring me in for a second interview. This tells me something - perhaps I've reached that point. Not that I will give up entirely on academia, but I may well have to realize the truth of it. And truth be told, I'm not convinced that teaching is what I want to do for the rest of my life. Yes, EVERYTHING is getting shaken up!
And what I have found to be a much more meaningful use of my time, and what I am most inclined to do... is to write. It feels like a job, now, not something I cram in between other shit I have to do. So for the remainder of the summer I'm a writer first, all else second. This has worked out well - I finished revisions to the sci fi and will do revisions on my 1950s coming of age story for a writer's group in late August. Deadlines are good for me.
Another exciting development is Bizarro's passion for reorganizing his life at home - he's been reading magazines and websites about how to organize your stuff, and we both have the same Mid-century Modern swank sensibilities, which works out well for our shared living space. The energy in here is getting shaken up and it feels GOOD!
Oh and a small note but with fabulous results - I have one of those drop-chandelier things (not with crystals, it's black faux-wrought iron) in the room where I write. I replaced the little bulbs with Reveal Light bulbs that mimic daylight's colors instead of giving off that sickly yellow. It has made my writing nook more comfortable and I don't feel my eye balls falling out of my head after a couple hours here. Next job will be to get a proper desk lamp. Let there be light!
As someone once said, "change is good."
F'ing squirrels
I feel like Bill Murray in CADDYSHACK.
Today's effort was an onion and chili pepper paste mixture all over the areas they try to dominate on the patio - they're still trying to get past the chicken wire that's been stapled up over the hole where they'd made their nest. The bumblefucks at this apartment complex just need to block up the holes with WOOD not chicken wire.
My upstairs neighbor is getting annoyed cause the squirrels are bothering her on her patio, and she calls ME as if I can do something about it. If she calls me one more time I'm going to point blank tell her not to call me about it any more; call the apartment office and complain to them. I've done everything I can.
I'm about ready to get a bebe gun and start picking off squirrels AND the neighbor lady.
Today's effort was an onion and chili pepper paste mixture all over the areas they try to dominate on the patio - they're still trying to get past the chicken wire that's been stapled up over the hole where they'd made their nest. The bumblefucks at this apartment complex just need to block up the holes with WOOD not chicken wire.
My upstairs neighbor is getting annoyed cause the squirrels are bothering her on her patio, and she calls ME as if I can do something about it. If she calls me one more time I'm going to point blank tell her not to call me about it any more; call the apartment office and complain to them. I've done everything I can.
I'm about ready to get a bebe gun and start picking off squirrels AND the neighbor lady.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Because someone always has it worse.
I Need A New Fucking Job.
While I'm searching for careers/jobs in the Boston area, I come across all kinds of things, and this hilariously written account of some poor, disenchanted twenty-something in Chicago helps me realize I'm not the only one looking for change and less bullshit in her life.
While I'm searching for careers/jobs in the Boston area, I come across all kinds of things, and this hilariously written account of some poor, disenchanted twenty-something in Chicago helps me realize I'm not the only one looking for change and less bullshit in her life.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
In all seriousness I have nothing to be grumpy about. Our financials are looking up with Bizarro's bonus and my paychecks being stronger than I'd anticipated. We're on a budget and it's working out well. I've been writing and getting things done.
But last night I realized was 6 months to the day (Wed. the 22nd) that Mom died. I had a hard time falling asleep anyway because it's so damned muggy and gross, but then weird shit kept happening.
Weird shit? you ask. Yeah like a pile of pots and pans that I need to bring to Salvo suddenly fell over on it's own. I kept hearing things that, with my earplugs on, I couldn't tell what they were. (I know that's a grammatically fucked up sentence but I don't care.) I got up numerous times and at one point saw a centipede crossing the room. SERIOUSLY? A centipede. EW GROSS. I had to dispatch the centipede or there was no way I was ever going to sleep. Just a really frickin' aweful night. And of course these things always happen the night before I have to get up and clean house at the rectory, so that I'm a zombie.
And that's where I'm off to now. My head feels like a trash compacter, only instead of trash it's snot. This weather is killing me.
But on the bright side, we are going to Massachusetts next month so there's something to look forward to. I hope there's some decent weather when we get there.
Oh crap time to go to work.
But last night I realized was 6 months to the day (Wed. the 22nd) that Mom died. I had a hard time falling asleep anyway because it's so damned muggy and gross, but then weird shit kept happening.
Weird shit? you ask. Yeah like a pile of pots and pans that I need to bring to Salvo suddenly fell over on it's own. I kept hearing things that, with my earplugs on, I couldn't tell what they were. (I know that's a grammatically fucked up sentence but I don't care.) I got up numerous times and at one point saw a centipede crossing the room. SERIOUSLY? A centipede. EW GROSS. I had to dispatch the centipede or there was no way I was ever going to sleep. Just a really frickin' aweful night. And of course these things always happen the night before I have to get up and clean house at the rectory, so that I'm a zombie.
And that's where I'm off to now. My head feels like a trash compacter, only instead of trash it's snot. This weather is killing me.
But on the bright side, we are going to Massachusetts next month so there's something to look forward to. I hope there's some decent weather when we get there.
Oh crap time to go to work.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Considering all the times I've pushed a bin onto an elevator, I am damn lucky this has never happened to me. Klamrisk, indeed.
Cynical-C.com
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Abundance
Trying to see what I can learn in the muck of this summer. Not having a job I thought I had, doing odd jobs to make ends meet hand to mouth, probably having to cancel the tiny trip to Massachusetts that Bizarro and I had planned for next month (I'm still holding out hope that somehow we can swing it, but it doesn't look good).
Being aware of the bounty in my life is the thing that strikes me here. I have a tendency to see the glass half empty and continuing to drain away. I don't see the good things all around me. I only see things I don't have, or want to have, or what other people have that I feel I deserve because they're no better than me.
And that usually turns into a self-flagellating episode where I go over every "bad" decision I've ever made, and I become despondent and helpless. It's a vicious cycle of negativity that I MUST break if I'm ever going to make my life a better place to live.
I've started an "abundance list" and I keep adding to it. I carry it around in my purse so it's there for me to visit when I start the "poor me" vibes begin to escalate.
I know everyone is having a hard time; these economic times suck for everyone. But I also know that I've been in this cycle of poverty consciousness pretty much from my early 20s, no matter what the economy was doing. This is what I need to remember: let the past go and only see the bounty that is in my life at present, as I make my way into the future.
The truth of the matter is that this poverty consciousness (as I call it) isn't just unique to me. I see others in my family, including my Mother, with some of the same patterns and traits. It's up to me to break this, for my Mom as well as myself and my husband.
Being aware of the bounty in my life is the thing that strikes me here. I have a tendency to see the glass half empty and continuing to drain away. I don't see the good things all around me. I only see things I don't have, or want to have, or what other people have that I feel I deserve because they're no better than me.
And that usually turns into a self-flagellating episode where I go over every "bad" decision I've ever made, and I become despondent and helpless. It's a vicious cycle of negativity that I MUST break if I'm ever going to make my life a better place to live.
I've started an "abundance list" and I keep adding to it. I carry it around in my purse so it's there for me to visit when I start the "poor me" vibes begin to escalate.
I know everyone is having a hard time; these economic times suck for everyone. But I also know that I've been in this cycle of poverty consciousness pretty much from my early 20s, no matter what the economy was doing. This is what I need to remember: let the past go and only see the bounty that is in my life at present, as I make my way into the future.
The truth of the matter is that this poverty consciousness (as I call it) isn't just unique to me. I see others in my family, including my Mother, with some of the same patterns and traits. It's up to me to break this, for my Mom as well as myself and my husband.
Monday, July 06, 2009
Wednesday, July 01, 2009
Fr. M's Boots
So as you know, faithful readership (all 5 of you), I am doing the hauskleening for the rectory this summer. Very sadly, Fr. M, the pastor, died on Monday of cancer. It's a weird week to start back up at the Chorch. Tomorrow's the funeral. What was really weird was that today as my coworker was showing me where everything is and what I'll have to do at the house, I had to go into Fr. M's room. His motorcycle boots are still sitting by the front door. Those first few days after someone passes are so difficult when you are faced with their belongings and the trappings of their lives here on this earth. I was fond of Fr. M but had no close bond with him; still, it was a strange thing to be there today. Luckily I had plenty to keep me busy, cleaning up after the other priests in the house.
I'll be going Monday, Thursday and Friday, and walking to work when I can (which I did today). Made the mistake of not wearing my orthotics, though, so my right foot is very unhappy with me at the moment.
Well it's time for bed. Will be happy for tomorrow morning to be over. I'm not looking forward to another funeral Mass, even if it is being said by the Bishop himself.
I'll be going Monday, Thursday and Friday, and walking to work when I can (which I did today). Made the mistake of not wearing my orthotics, though, so my right foot is very unhappy with me at the moment.
Well it's time for bed. Will be happy for tomorrow morning to be over. I'm not looking forward to another funeral Mass, even if it is being said by the Bishop himself.
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