tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56993213730907879342024-03-04T23:03:16.069-05:00And time yet for a hundred indecisionsgudnuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09404362959136843111noreply@blogger.comBlogger124125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699321373090787934.post-36509186338613645882010-05-10T16:29:00.003-04:002010-05-10T16:47:50.490-04:00Negotiation is in the airHi! I popped back for a brief visit to blogland, with the idea of sharing some info about negotiating and what do I find? <a href="http://bamber.blogspot.com/2010/05/ask-versus-guess-culture.html">Prettier than Napolean </a>and <a href="http://magiccookie.blogspot.com/2010/05/law-school-saved-me-thirty-dollars.html">Magic Cookie </a>both have posts up that touch on the same issue - what skills to use to get what you want. Is there something in the air?<br /><br />Here's why it's been on my mind.<br /><br />While googling ways to help my kid deal with a very tough year, I stumbled upon Professor Linda Babcock's research on gender and negotiations. Then I found that they've developed a Girl Scout badge called The Win-Win Badge to help young girls (8-12yo) learn to negotiate.<br />I thought that was pretty cool. Of course, I immediately went and did the badge with our troop (did I mention I'm a troop leader this year? interesting development...enjoying it)<br /><br />It reminded me of something I'd seen on TV years ago, and again after much googling, I found it. Two video clips from Good Morning America talking about <a href="http://abcnews.go.com/GMA/Video/playerIndex?id=3652355">the wage gap </a>and how women are less likely to directly say what they want during salary negotiations. Turns out, we're not too timid; <a href="http://abcnews.go.com/GMA/video/playerIndex?id=3806340">we're appropriately gauging the audience's likely disapproval of a woman being assertive</a>.<br /><br />So the moral of the story, after much research on my part, is: go ahead and ask for what you want, but make sure you ask for it while remaining "likeable".gudnuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09404362959136843111noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699321373090787934.post-39898058351766206162010-03-15T13:18:00.010-04:002010-03-16T10:56:22.694-04:00Ode to Q's MuchnessAlice in Wonderland - my kid LOVED it.<br /><br />Just before going to sleep, in the dim glow of the nightlight, she defiantly asks,<br /><br />"Lost my muchness, have I?"<br /><br />I imagine her entering Slumberland with a firm grip on the hilt of the vorpal sword.<br /><br /><u>Ode to Q's Muchness</u><br /><br />There is much of much inside you, Q.<br />My muchness has grown dim or few.<br />Yours is still there and might grow more<br />allowing you to truly soar.<br /><br />I see it clear and bright and strong<br />A light that fills my heart with song.<br />Your muchness is what I adore.<br />You're my muchness and much more.<br /><br />I hope you never lose its touch.<br />Q, promise you will keep your much.<br />I hope that this is what will be:<br />Your muchness fuels your destiny.<br /><br />(Could you perhaps spare some for me?)gudnuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09404362959136843111noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699321373090787934.post-27525754560819867922010-02-23T12:15:00.024-05:002010-02-23T13:57:39.880-05:00Computer Engineer BarbieIt's official. <a href="http://www.barbiemedia.com/admin/uploads/ComputerEngineerBarbie3.pdf">Barbie is giving the geek look a try</a>! (complete with Bluetooth headset and nerdy/trendy glasses!)<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqK0ssB-983ziwdwPRqCJr11c0fxFcY46CwiOPzCBPJ0_g0qpoYMIj-I4wao-IYQjQx-g-jgrb-pHZbao2IZFguoooki9PFQQT-uqtCAdc1kbrbOYoV4T0jP56L8OplyWEypPgonFWOHyu/s1600-h/BarbieComputerEngineer.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 186px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 189px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441510295352056498" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqK0ssB-983ziwdwPRqCJr11c0fxFcY46CwiOPzCBPJ0_g0qpoYMIj-I4wao-IYQjQx-g-jgrb-pHZbao2IZFguoooki9PFQQT-uqtCAdc1kbrbOYoV4T0jP56L8OplyWEypPgonFWOHyu/s320/BarbieComputerEngineer.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://www.barbiemedia.com/?subcat=42&story=48"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 104px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441493742036725954" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiU_aUnaZPiktskH7RusmuwbzFIEtR3A6o0RLEAxUI2T2pWuJERRm7Q_giOF-6iCSJwEW8C9t0Eh5BjlD5cgzxwan4AdRPwwm1Vs7VKcyg6FR4ze-53qfN3kKXmEwo5sieELP8OJzVlkYF/s320/BarbieComputerEngineerDisplay.jpg" /></a> <div><br /><div><div><div>“As a computer engineer, Barbie will show girls that women can turn their ideas into realities that have a direct and positive impact on people’s everyday lives in this exciting and rewarding career.” </div><br /><div></div><div>"All the girls who imagine their futures through Barbie will learn that engineers — like girls — are <span style="color:#000000;">free to explore infinite possibilities, limited only by their imagination</span>,” says Nora Lin, President, Society of Women Engineers.</div><div></div><div><br />Hmmm...<i>free to explore infinite possibilities</i>. Yeah, like leaving computer work for a different career. <a href="http://magiccookie.blogspot.com/2004/07/once-upon-time.html">Magic Cookie</a> <a href="http://magiccookie.blogspot.com/2009/09/being-first-year-corporate-associate.html">did it</a> (<i>"<a href="http://magiccookie.blogspot.com/2009/01/phew.html">Having a job I care about is a good thing</a>."</i>). How's THAT for an imagination?</div><div><br />Barbie doesn't make it look all that great, anyway. Just further confirmation that there's no dressing this up. You can even stamp a Mattel label on rubberized computer work, but that doesn't make it any less geeky. Would Ken be interested in her now? I wonder.</div><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div>gudnuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09404362959136843111noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699321373090787934.post-50122159656733169362010-02-10T14:17:00.006-05:002010-02-10T16:19:54.846-05:00I'm better than this (or should be)I've been naughty and irresponsible. I anonymously posted something on a board somewhere and wow, was it vituperative. I guess that's what happens when you're bored and bitter at work.<br />Who knew I could get so worked up?<br /><br />I went after these guys as if they'd spit in my kid's hair. And it's pure jealousy on my part. I admit it. I just wanted to take them down a peg or two.<br /><br />So this is how my day has gone (drafting catty comments) and where my passions led me. Which is all fine and dandy until my husband or my kid or my mom asks, "How was work today?" and all I can remember is how I went off on somebody on some internet board and how fun it was and how guilty I feel about it now. And how desperate I am to read any follow-up comments! Bring it, baby. I'm ready to rumble, apparently.<br /><br />My day? Oh. Yeah. It was fine.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">--------------</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Oh nevermind. The snide comments will be deleted by the board's admin before anyone sees them, I'm sure. Which is fine. I really AM better than that.</span>gudnuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09404362959136843111noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699321373090787934.post-9538927447303576082010-01-21T11:08:00.002-05:002010-01-21T11:25:35.234-05:00Another One Bites the DustAnd another one's gone...<a href="http://magiccookie.blogspot.com/">Magic Cookie </a>took me off her blog list. Sniff. Well, I was honored to be on there at any point, so thanks CM for helping me get started and putting me on there for a while. I can't really complain about getting the boot. I've essentially been offline for months, and I've abandoned the lawyer-esque musings that I once posted here. Not that I don't think about it still, but the reality is so distant from the wanting that it's self-defeating for me to continue to ruminate in that manner. This space has morphed into a mommy-blog by this point, because parenting issues are still very meaningful to my day-to-day reality and because they're pretty safe to blog about publicly. I don't want to write a mommy-blog, really, but I also don't want to overshare (gasp! gawd forbid!) all my angst and marital stuff and job stuff, etc.<br /><br />OK, I really DO want to overshare, but I'm getting smarter about suppressing that desire.<br /><br />Anyhoo... <span style="font-size:78%;">(and yes, I like spelling it that way...anywho? why would you use "anywho"?...seriously, the point of "anyhoo" is that you are making up a silly phonetic representation of anyway/anyhow/nevertheless/moving on/so-as-I-was-about-to-say, etc. It is NOT <em>anywho</em>.)</span><br /><br />This underscores a truth about blogging: you get out of it what you put into it. I like that about blogging. It's a meritocracy.<br /><br />But I am sad to be dumped by CM. She started this blog, really. I am indebted to her. Her kindness and openness and willingness to mentor and answer questions made a big impression on me. I wouldn't be here without her. She's amazing. As you will discover if you read her.gudnuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09404362959136843111noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699321373090787934.post-69639236158450190112010-01-16T19:07:00.003-05:002010-01-16T19:16:41.480-05:00Home Alone and BrokenThis three-day-weekend, our little threesome had intentions of being out of town. Moments before we hit the highway, it became apparent that I had some work I could not put off another day. I told Leo I needed to stay home to get my work done, and now here I am. I am home alone, trying to get my work done, while Leo and Q are several hours away by car, enjoying a Daddy-Daughter weekend.<br /><br />I feel like I'm doing an all-nighter to finish a paper, a common scenario for me during my academic career. If I finish soon, I can get in my car and meet up with them, as inefficent as that seems. They're at a new hotel and have already called to tell me all about it and yes, I suffered stabs of jealousy and self-pity as I listened to Q gush about their room.<br /><br />My work is boring. My work pays our mortgage, our car loans, the electric bill, etc. I am both grateful and frustrated that I have this job. I am bored out of my mind. In fact, I am broken. I do not work. I do not work right, not the way I used to. But work I must. What a whiney-heiney I am!gudnuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09404362959136843111noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699321373090787934.post-22657449631195722812010-01-07T15:54:00.006-05:002010-01-07T16:29:41.866-05:00Honk If You Can Read This<span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;"></span><br />This helped improve my attitude today:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=594Oxq4c0XA&feature=player_embedded"><strong><em><span style="color:#000099;">AFI's 100 Years, 100 Movie Quotes (Musical Montage)</span></em></strong></a><br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">On the other side of things, I checked my kid's email account, something I rarely do. In fact, it's been over two months since I last checked it. It's been even longer since Q has used the account. Anyway, there was an unread message from early December that is troubling me. Her friend sent her an email asking Q if Q was mad at the friend. Then the friend said that if she didn't recieve a reply from Q by the end of the month, that she had five words for Q, and here are their initials: Y A W T J. </span><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">The friend finished off the note with "p.s. bye dead girl".</span><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">WTH?</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6666;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;"><em><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="font-size:78%;">The space above will reveal today's bad news, if you highlight it.</span></span> </em></span>gudnuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09404362959136843111noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699321373090787934.post-39407602653407512562009-12-03T09:18:00.005-05:002009-12-03T09:56:40.178-05:00Have a Heart, TeachA 9-year-old kid (not mine) raised her hand in class one morning and said, "Mrs. Smith, I need to go to the clinic. I'm sick."<br /><br />Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot and watery. She couldn't breathe through her nose. Her face was flushed a dark pink. The kid looked sick.<br /><br />"Suck it up," responded the teacher.<br /><br />The little girl had to wait until lunch time, when the class was in the cafeteria and she had access to other school personnel, to ask to go to the clinic. The teacher on duty in the cafeteria took one look at her and immediately excused her to go to the clinic. At the clinic, they determined she was ill. Her mother was called and the girl was sent home sick for the day.<br /><br />The point: What's up with this teacher? Who says "suck it up" to a kid in fourth grade, especially one who's clearly under the weather? I mean, at least say something like "Try to hang in there, okay?".<br /><br />What's with the tough talk? The teacher needs to take an empathy pill and drop the militant tough-guy approach. This is fourth grade, not boot camp.<br /><br />Or am I just too soft-hearted?gudnuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09404362959136843111noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699321373090787934.post-49294246253029300692009-11-24T10:55:00.004-05:002009-11-24T11:43:13.407-05:00SolemnityIf anyone is still stopping by here, I bid you greetings!<br /><br />Hi!<br /><br />I've been absorped first in a school project which took a couple months (because it was interesting to me and a fun diversion and because I could) and now I'm absorped in a different sort of project, which is still kid-centered, but not as fun.<br /><br />My showing up here today has to do with vocabulary.<br /><br />Does this sound right to any of you?<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><em><strong>"We all solemnly dislike her."</strong></em></span><br /><br />My immediate reaction is no, that's not right. It sounds like you regret not liking her. It sounds like the act of disliking her is a sad, mournful thing you are not exactly enthused about. In other words, it sounds like you dislike that you dislike her.<br /><br />But I just looked up "solemn" and basically it means serious, mirthless. So, maybe "We solemnly dislike her" is equivalent to "We gravely dislike her" or "We take it very seriously that we dislike her."<br /><br />And just so you know, the "her" is nobody I've taked about before. And the "we" is nobody you know. And my paranoia knows no bounds. Hence my solemn attempt to keep things anonymous and vague and irrelevant to anything of substance in my real life, leading to many months of silence here.<br /><br />We solemnly dislike the need to watch what we say while blogging. Solemnly, dude. No kidding.gudnuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09404362959136843111noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699321373090787934.post-7131207200273889492009-08-27T16:28:00.008-04:002009-08-28T12:24:11.780-04:00I just pulled a muscle answering the phoneYikes! August is almost GONE and I have only posted once this month so far? <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Yowza</span>.<br /><br />I say August doesn't count. In the blogosphere, there are only 11 months in the year.<br /><br />And yes, I really did just pull a muscle in my back by reaching over to answer the phone. How sad is that.<br /><br />I've been wallowing less, focusing on work (including housework) more. Things are pretty good.<br /><br />I even mowed the entire lawn last Saturday!!! Which is a First Time In My Life event. My dad only let my brothers mow the lawn when we were kids, which was the last time I ever even thought about doing such a thing. But marital maintenance includes yard maintenance, it turns out. Who knew! (I do, now. Just call me <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Gud</span> "Yes, dear" <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Nuff</span>.)<br /><br />Anyway, I'm about to go to some social thing and I was wondering: does caffeine help you be more pumped about cocktail party chitchat? Would quickly downing a can of Coke (or Coke Zero) <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">immediately</span> before departing for said socializing event help minimize my butterflies, while I wait for my post-arrival glass of wine to take effect? Just wondering.<br /><br />Pathetic? Why, yes! Warranted? Yes, again. I want so badly to be the one smoothly working the room. But alas. I am much more inclined to pass the time sitting in a corner quietly evaluating <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">everyone's</span> choice of shoes.gudnuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09404362959136843111noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699321373090787934.post-79810524545970488732009-08-06T13:29:00.002-04:002009-08-06T13:44:52.788-04:00I'd Rather Not CommentI just got a call on my office phone. It was someone calling to ask my opinion of one of our service providers. The first question: "On a scale of 1 to 10, how likely would you be to recommend our service to another potential customer?"<br /><br />Me: Uh...[pause]...Is this anonymous?<br />Them: No. This is not anonymous.<br />Me: [silence as I think about the people whose feelings might be involved]<br />Them: It is registered in our database with your customer name, so no, it is not anonymous.<br />Me: ......................<br />Them: You don't have to do it.<br />Me: Whew! Really?!<br />Them: Yeah, that's fine. You don't have to.<br />Me: Yeah, okay, good. That sounds good. Thanks.<br />Them: Okay. You have a nice day.<br />Me: [quick interjection] For what it's worth, I think you're doing a great job! I mean, you personally. On this call. I'd give you a 10. If that helps any.<br />Them: Well, no, not really. But I appreciate that.gudnuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09404362959136843111noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699321373090787934.post-311417491057841262009-07-31T16:14:00.004-04:002009-07-31T17:09:54.444-04:00On my mindQuick list of stuff:<br /><br />- I'm absolutely fascinated by the whole Gates-Crowley-Obama gathering at the White House thing. Lots to say, but little time for anything more than: yes, there's a teachable moment here, and it is this: if you're a cop, maybe you could show some restraint; and if you're not a cop, maybe you better show some restraint. But disorderly conduct is definitely a discretionary call.<br /><br />- Q has a high fever that won't go away, and a throat too sore to talk, so she's whispering "I love you" or signing it with her made-up sign language, usually after whispering, "Is there any pie left?"<br /><br />- The volume level in the house is greatly reduced (see second point above) and it's really, really nice. So a part of me wonders, how can I make this more commonplace? Not the sore throat part...just the silent part. Can pie be the answer?<br /><br />- Project at work is keeping me busy, keeping me up late, keeping me focused. Things aren't so bad. I guess. For now. Feeling more empowered, but kinda disinterested, simultaneously.<br /><br />- No other distractions, for those of you following along. (<em>I wasn't late, so I wasn't super worried. It's just that things change as you age, including the way your body heralds certain events. So, it was different, in a way that reminded me of how things felt when I was pregnant with Q. So, I waited, because I wasn't late. And I waited, but wondered. Then, it was beginning to seem like, maybe I was late. Maybe this was exactly what it was the last time I felt like this. After more than a week of kinda wondering, I finally took myself to the store. I kid you not: an hour after I got home from spending the money (around $15), about half an hour after peeing on the stupid stick (there, I said it), then, I wasn't late anymore. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">WTH</span>? It's like my system wanted me to blow cash on this question. Talk about annoying. I was like, "Seriously? You decide to show up NOW? Why not two hours ago??! <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">WTH</span>?!!" Such are the joys of womanhood</em>.)<br /><br />- Leo is completing his first full week of work. He leaves earlier in the morning than I do. He dresses better than I do. He is looking good to me. I like it! He goes to sleep earlier, too. And he doesn't beat me to all the household chores (because he's at work and just as unavailable to do them now as I am), so I get to do more without feeling like I have to race him. I like it! And when we see his first paycheck, I bet you can guess how I'll feel: I will like it!<br /><br />- We have a second-hand piano and I've been practicing on it, wanting to show my folks that they didn't waste time and money on my childhood lessons. So, I played "Morning Has Broken" from my Adult Piano Lesson Book over the speaker phone for them yesterday, and they sounded truly impressed and really touched (it's a favorite song of theirs). That was fun.gudnuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09404362959136843111noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699321373090787934.post-76534071478512245232009-07-27T15:23:00.002-04:002009-07-27T15:41:15.776-04:00French penpal?With both of us working again, we are focusing on paying off bills as soon as possible. Once we've managed to get rid of one or two of them, we will be able to increase our contribution to our savings account. Leo even mentioned that we could earmark a certain portion for our vacation.<br /><br />He was talking to me on the phone when he said this. I was driving. My heart did a little pause, then beat really hard, as I followed his comment with this question:<br /><br />Me: What vacation?<br />Him: For next year.<br />Me: C'mon, I just want to hear you say it. A vacation to where, exactly? (slightly holding my breath)<br />Him: Paris.<br />Me: Ooooh, that is so cool (I am still proud that I didn't squeal out loud when he said that word)<br /><br />Now, does anybody have suggestions for how Q can get an online penpal who lives in France that is not a pedophile?<br /><br />I think it would be cool for her to start to learn a little French, and cool to have someone to meet should we ever get over there. Another kid, preferably. Am I crazy to even explore this option?<br /><br />Of course, this is more fantasy than anything else. It could well never happen. I've learned to accept that things often don't play out as you'd hoped. C'est la vie, n'est-ce pas?gudnuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09404362959136843111noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699321373090787934.post-64368920774667437592009-07-26T16:02:00.003-04:002009-07-26T17:21:10.536-04:00Save Me, Pandora!Music, sweet music, is the only thing that will get me away from blogland and onto my feet. I turn to you, Pandora, as the source of my energy and focus. The network will run better on Monday because of you.<br /><br />Sometimes I wish I had billable hours. Then I'd not be able to get away with this crap, where I come into the office to get work done, and I waste time reading and commenting hither and yon, like there are thirty-eight hours in a day and I can spend four to five of them on the web without consequence.<br /><br />-----------<br /><br />Ah, the Pandora, she mocks me. She plays "Back on the Chain Gang" to laugh at me, then she plays "Should I Stay or Should I Go" to mock my pain on so many levels (should I just leave the office now and go home for dinner (Leo has already called for a status check), should I leave this profession, should I quit blogging, etc.). Pandora...she's a cruel mistress.gudnuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09404362959136843111noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699321373090787934.post-26789805202364279452009-07-24T16:52:00.004-04:002009-07-24T17:02:38.308-04:00What was I saying?I have the mental capacity of a gnat.<br /><br />And the attention span of a...a....um.......anyway, I gotta work this weekend. Hope my brain makes a reappearance before then.<br /><br />Plus, something weird is going on that makes me wonder if...if...um...how do I say this?...if Q will remain an only child, if you know what I'm sayin'. Probably nothing to worry about. But something weird is going on. That's probably why I'm so distracted, eh? That's a pretty distracting thought.gudnuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09404362959136843111noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699321373090787934.post-57148977073477434812009-07-22T13:02:00.003-04:002009-07-22T16:41:29.212-04:00Random Wednesday - Censorship Then and NowLet the Random References romp freely!<br /><br />Anybody else out there ever see the full version of <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Sybil-Two-Disc-Special-Joanne-Woodward/dp/B000EHQU0S">the 1976 made-for-televsion movie Sybil</a>, starring Sally Field and Joanne Woodward? I saw it. The whole thing. The original. Complete with kitchen scenes and piano playing moments (and if you saw it, you know what that's about).<br /><br />I saw it when I was around 8 years old. Nobody saw it with me.<br /><br />It was on tv. It was like the Saturday Afternoon Matinee movie on tv.<br /><br />It was on tv again recently. Guess what? They cut the second half. They rolled the credits at the midway point, completely denying today's generation the privilege of the kitchen scenes.<br /><br />My reaction: why was I allowed to see it back in the '70s? Why did they show the whole thing back then? (I just <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0075296/">googled it</a>, and discovered that the original television version was over three hours long. No wonder they didn't show the whole thing this time around!). And where were my parents? How come nobody stopped me from watching it? WTH?<br /><br />Dad was probably working and Mom was probably doing laundry.<br /><br />Not that viewing it totally screwed me up. But still. That is some messed up stuff, watching child abuse for free on tv in my parents' living room by myself, my 8-year-old self.<br /><br />To be clear: as a made-for-tv movie, for what it is, it is excellent. I am a fan. Sally Field was excellent in <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Sybil-Two-Disc-Special-Joanne-Woodward/dp/B000EHQU0S">Sybil</a>. That's not what this post is about.<br /><br />What this post is (partly) about is summed up by <a href="http://www.contactmusic.com/new/film.nsf/reviews/sybil">one reviewer's observation</a>: "How these scenes got past broadcast censors in 1976 is a mystery."<br /><br />It's also (partly) about the fact that I don't think they'd be shown today. <br /><br />How funny, don't you agree, that tv censorship today blocks stuff like the second half of Sybil, but shows extremely adult-oriented content (sex and violence and horror) in movie previews (for instance) during primetime viewing periods?gudnuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09404362959136843111noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699321373090787934.post-58448327460994307932009-07-20T14:42:00.002-04:002009-07-20T14:54:24.994-04:00I'm Okay, You're OkayOn my way back from the bathroom just now, while passing someone in the hallway, we traded the obligatory, "Hey! How are you?"<br /><br />I meekly replied, "I'm okay."<br /><br />To which she replied, "Just 'okay'?" in a nice way, then added "Gee, I hope it gets better." (also in a nice way).<br /><br />Which made me decide, hey, okay is pretty good! I'm glad to be okay. Okay is good enough (and gudnuff is okay!).<br /><br />Then I thought, "In fact, I couldn't be better!" Which made me pause. Really?<br /><br />No, not really. Can any of us truly say we couldn't be doing better? If your answer is yes (or should it be no? confound these negatively-phrased queries of mine!)...the point is...if you couldn't be doing better, then this is your best...it doesn't get any better than this. Really?<br /><br />Why not?<br /><br />And that, dear reader, is my point for today. Okay is good enough. But there is always room for improvement. Which you can work on some other time. Today, I'm okay with being okay.gudnuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09404362959136843111noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699321373090787934.post-45542399083062116262009-07-18T16:47:00.006-04:002009-07-18T18:58:01.610-04:00If I Didn't Have A Kid......I'd be at the gym right now. Instead of pacing around, trying to figure out what to do with myself while Q and her little friend enjoy their playdate in the back room with the Wii.<br /><br />My pacing is more virtual than physical. I spend a lot of time (really, it's a shameful amount of time) reading <a href="http://magiccookie.blogspot.com/">Magic Cookie's </a>archives and writing draft posts in response to them because comments have been turned off.<br /><br />Leo is out of town this weekend, which explains both why I have to stay here with Q and why there is a friend of hers on the premises. When Leo is around, it's just the three of us - no little friends interrupt our weekends ordinarily. There's something about Dads and other people's kids. I remember being at my friend's house when I was Q's age, and the dad was never around (even on the weekends), or if he was, everything was sort of hushed and uncomfortable and you kinda knew you should go home soon.<br /><br />Guess what else happens when Leo is gone? The dishes don't magically reappear in the cupboard! The laundry stays where I left it. In a way, it sucks and reminds me how little I do on a regular basis around here. But, in a way, it's awesome, 'cause things actually stay where I put them, and I remember (mostly) where I put stuff. In places that make sense to me. And it's good practice for me to get back on top of things (like running the dishwasher and emptying it and making the beds, etc.)<br /><br />Well, I've decided that Q and I will go for a bike ride together after the friend leaves. That's the cool part about her getting bigger. I need to celebrate the good stuff about that.<br /><br />In the meantime, I can imagine what else I'd be doing if I weren't babysitting. Like, studying. Or at least reading for pleasure (as in, a real book. TMI ALERT: yes, I'm tackling <u>Team of Rivals</u> two-pages-at-a-time during bathroom visits. I expect to be done reading it by this time next year). Or at some event with other grown-ups somewhere. Or at somebody's lake house. Maybe it would be MY lake house, because that's where I might have put the money that went into daycare and day camp and clothes and parties and hair accessories (I swear this house eats ponytail holders. Or else the cats are eating them). Also, I'd probably not have any cats (I got them because Q has no siblings and what is she supposed to say, at 5 years of age, when asked "Do you have any brothers or sisters? Do you have any pets?" No, no, no. It sounded so lonely and made that getting-to-know-you conversation rather bleak. At least she can talk about her cats, right?). Maybe I would be getting back from running a 5K. Because I would have gone to a doctor and had my knee looked at five years ago instead of just ignoring that crunchy sound in my left patella that still creeps me out and must be related to the sharp pain that accompanies running or walking up hill or up stairs. And in this kid-free fantasy I'm currently enjoying, I am also about eight years younger but farther along in my career, AND, I'm a Director on the Board of This and That, AND I have an award or three lauding my Community Service hanging on the wall.<br /><br />I will close with something from <a href="http://magiccookie.blogspot.com/2007/05/if-this-blog-were-in-song-form.html">Magic Cookie's archive</a>, a <a href="http://www.jonathancoulton.com/2006/08/18/thing-a-week-46-you-ruined-everything/">song by Jonathan Coulter</a>, about how kids ruin your life. And how wonderful it is that they did.gudnuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09404362959136843111noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699321373090787934.post-37189708592689466042009-07-16T16:12:00.002-04:002009-07-16T17:19:07.210-04:00I'm Spooked, Are You?A number of things have me running scared lately, such as: The disappearance of nd (noo duuuuck), which lingers like morning fog in the back of my bloggy brain. (so it's blog fog...the fog-like ghosts of blogs past/passed, whatever). The fact that I have told someone from my Real Life the url to this spot. The fact that I posted an easily googleable thing that might actually be looked for by family members which could lead them straight here. I am spooked. I am wondering how hard it is to start over, and how I would go about it.<br /><br />And I am missing people. I miss <a href="http://hyphenmama.blogspot.com/">Hyphen</a>, even though she's still around, just not as much. And I miss nd. And I miss ambimb. And I'm questioning this whole blogging endeavor, wondering whether it might actually be a mojo-blocker for me work-wise. I'm momentarily paralyzed. Like, movement will catch "their" attention (and by "their" attention, I mean the people that I don't want to find this blog). So, I've been frozen for the past week. And did y'all read <a href="http://www.lawyermommusings.blogspot.com/">A Lawyer Mom's excellent post </a>about blogger liability and not-so-free speech?<br /><br />Fear sucks.<br /><br /><em><span style="font-size:78%;">(Thanks to </span></em><a href="http://hyphenmama.blogspot.com/"><em><span style="font-size:78%;">Hyphen </span></em></a><em><span style="font-size:78%;">for unsticking me!!!! Muah!)</span></em>gudnuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09404362959136843111noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699321373090787934.post-73750902932228399482009-07-08T14:43:00.002-04:002009-07-08T15:02:52.708-04:00Good news, I thinkWe are a dual-income family again! I'm so happy for Leo. The time off was starting to wear thin for him. I'm sad for me, 'cause now I really can't slack on the housework like I have been with him home all the time and constantly putting things away. Well, we need the money, and he's glad to get out of the house again, so it's for the best. <br /><br />So Mr. Househusband (Mr. Wife?) is leaving, and I will miss him. It was nice while it lasted. But probably only because our money hadn't fully run out yet. I expect Mr. Grumpy, whom I do not miss, to arrive in about three weeks.<br /><br />But who will be at the front door to hand me my martini and the evening paper and my pipe and slippers? And take the roast out of the oven ten minutes after that? And ask me about my day?gudnuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09404362959136843111noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699321373090787934.post-6484868833762094962009-07-06T15:07:00.003-04:002009-07-06T15:32:02.744-04:00If you give a host a hug...I'm compulsive about two things: <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">straightening</span> tangled phone cords and hugging people hello/goodbye.<br /><br />Most people are not compelled to do either of these. Yes, the hugging thing is especially problematic and often one-sided. No, I'm not in therapy about it. Yes, I've read <u>The Five Love Languages</u> and it's clear that Physical Touch is a big deal for me. But most other people? Not so much, it turns out. So, I'm often hugging people who clearly weren't expecting it. But it's often too quick to deflect and they just go with it out of a sense of polite <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">graciousness</span>.<br /><br />How do you break someone of a habit like this? How do you get her to think twice next time?<br /><br />You have her show up for a pool party and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">compulsively</span> hug the host who just spent 5 hours working on his lawn. And is still "dewy" from the exertion. And hasn't had a shower in two days. And is much taller than her, so that her head gets wrapped in his t-shirt for about two seconds. Which is two seconds longer than either of them were looking for.gudnuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09404362959136843111noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699321373090787934.post-51076917574155112212009-07-03T22:28:00.002-04:002009-07-03T22:39:56.656-04:00Palin is a flakeShe's quitting her job as Governor of Alaska. For a laundry list of muddled excuses. What other interpretation is there, other than outright flakiness? I mean, really? What I really want to know is, how many other governors have quit prior to the end of their term? And for what reasons?gudnuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09404362959136843111noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699321373090787934.post-54946610511114045582009-07-03T10:44:00.004-04:002009-07-03T10:55:46.010-04:00Maybe It's The HeatJust a short post to note some changes. Firstly: New Duck has killed her blog, it seems. This is my first experience with such a devastating loss. I miss her terribly. It makes blogging feel like a looooong layover at a bus station or something, and you get to know the people next to you, but then they have to go their separate way eventually. <br /><br />Blogging has its painful sides, to be sure.<br /><br />As for me, I can't seem to gather my mojo for anything fun or interesting on my own blog, and I know it's been rather sucky lately. Luckily, I've found <a href="http://www.suburbsanity.com/">Suburb Sanity</a> to help inspire me. And while I miss New Duck, I'm thanking all the others on my sidebar for still going strong. I love you guys!gudnuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09404362959136843111noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699321373090787934.post-13506345183447584522009-06-30T20:45:00.008-04:002009-06-30T21:23:51.146-04:00I dreamed about Obama last night<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">WTH</span></span>? That was a new experience. He somehow had recently become the CEO of our company and was so new to the place that he still didn't know where all the departments were located or how to file his paperwork, etc. This was at the headquarters of a national organization, and in the dream I was like, "Huh? Why would Obama take a job HERE?" My duties involved operational support, and in my corner of the corporate world, we seldom saw anybody from the front office (I'm throwing terms around as if I use these everyday. What IS a front office, anyway?). When he sort of accidentally explored his way back towards my part of the operations (it was some industrial/textile type place...again...wth?), I suddenly became all flustered and bumbled everything and dropped stacks of papers and basically was a total dork while he was taking a tour of the facilities to meet all the staff and he graciously acknowledged me and I was mortified by my incompetency in front of him. It bemused me and ticked me off too, 'cause I was damn good at my job, and I knew it, and I knew other people knew it...except for him.<br /><br />I never dream about celebrities or politicians. I don't seem to dream much at all, lately (that I can recall by morning). What the heck was I doing dreaming about Obama? And as I type up this post, I see all kinds of parallels about him being in charge and being new and not knowing all the details of how the place was run. But I'm a supporter of his, in my waking hours, and I get kinda bristly when people make cracks about his competency or lack of experience, so that just makes it all the weirder that my dream would highlight those qualities/circumstances, like I'm internalizing the perspective of his critics, of the people who disagree with his ability to lead.<br /><br />In the dream, I made sure to put his <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">time sheet</span> in the right slot (I just happened to be walking by and noticed it lying there on a table...other people's timesheets were nowhere in my job description, so this was a totally gratuitous act on my part), because he had not known to put it there and it was probably not going to get processed if I didn't take care of that for him - which just furthered my annoyance that I was behind-the-scenes competent and in-front-of-The-Boss-incompetent...but I did it anyway. 'Cause I'm nice like that.gudnuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09404362959136843111noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699321373090787934.post-50385127475267330162009-06-18T13:54:00.010-04:002009-06-18T21:36:20.596-04:00I Dislike You! I Really Dislike You!*<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-size:85%;" >*</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-size:85%;">A twist on the 1985 Oscar acceptance speech by Sally Field, Best Actress for "Places in the Heart," after having won in 1980 for "Norma Rae": "</span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >I haven't had an orthodox career, and I've wanted more than anything to have your respect. The first time I didn't feel it, but this time I feel it, and I can't deny the fact that you like me, right now, you like me!</span><span style="font-size:85%;">" But usually it's misquoted as "You like me! You really like me!"<br /><br /></span></span></span>............................<br /><br />Leo sent me <a href="http://shine.yahoo.com/channel/health/user-post-8-tips-for-liking-someone-better-or-disliking-that-person-less-471321/?pg=1#comments">8 tips for liking someone better (or disliking that person less)</a> this morning. It was his way of helping me deal with some stuff at the office this week. And by "stuff", I mean:<br /><br />There are 2 "consultants" at the office working on this project (the project that got in the way of my Master Plan to study for the June LSAT. My husband's unemployment got in the way, too, sort of, but anyway...).<br /><br />Yesterday I was terrifically frustrated with one of the consultants in particular, and of course, Work Husband was there to add to the misery. (And no, I'm not talking about the kind of frustration that we all crave once in a while, the kind that makes you rub up against doorknobs or sit on top of a washing machine during the spin cycle. I'm talking <em>you-are-really-pissing-me-off</em> frustrated. And "Work Husband" is just not capturing the essence of our relationship. It's more like how you would feel about an ex-husband. Does <em>Work Ex-Husband</em> make sense? 'cause that's what he is.)<br /><br />I was so annoyed/frustrated/angry by the time I got home, that I kvetched mightily about it to Leo, who just really doesn't want to hear much beyond the first 300 words.<br /><br />Still, trying to be supportive, he sent me the article. What I liked most, though, were the comments.<br /><br />You'll see that several commenters disagree with the author's advice. I love them for that.<br /><br />Here are two of my favorite responses:<br /><br /><em><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">"I prefer to not like them. If I try to like them, then I'm stuck tolerating their obnoxious behavior. I'd rather not :)"<br /><br />"This has to be the dumbest article I have read in such a long time. Why isn't it OK to dislike someone... We don't have to like everyone!"<br /></span></em><br />This is why <a href="http://www.trannyheadrawks.com/2009/01/ten-things-i-hate-about-you-rage-and.html">Trannyhead's</a> <a href="http://www.trannyheadrawks.com/2009/05/wtf-wednesday-reunited-and-it-feels-so.html">weekly rants </a>are so popular, I presume. Because it feels good to vent, and it feels good to know that I'm not the only person sipping a strawful of screw-you cider.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></span></span>gudnuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09404362959136843111noreply@blogger.com5