Mar 27

Have you noticed this?  When a major tragedy strikes anywhere in the world, we are required to not complain about things deemed “petty” by others unaffected by the tragedy.

There was a major disaster in Japan.  Uncounted people are dead.  Uncounted people have lost their homes.  And the rest of the world is no longer “allowed” to complain about problems of a lesser scope.

When a tsunami struck Haiti, I was cornered by someone who told me that we are blessed, and should thank God every day that we are so blessed to not live in an area likely to be hit by a tsunami.  A week later, he was fighting daily with his girlfriend about stupid and petty things.

Now I don’t know about the rest of you, but I work really hard to not take much of anything for granted.  I know that I live in a remarkably safe area of the world, but that is largely a choice.  I choose to not live closer to the coast.  I choose to not live in areas where destructive weather patterns are common.  I choose to live far enough away from New York City that any major disaster there will likely only affect me in terms of refugees needing a place to go to.  That said, I’m completely fucked if someone decides to start dropping nukes on the states.  One in Boston, one in NYC and maybe even one in Montreal and my city is gone.

I wake up every morning thankful to have a job.  It doesn’t mean I don’t wish for one that made me less unhappy or paid me better, but I know, every day, that I am better off than those who are un- or under-employed and I don’t take that for granted.  I wake up every morning grateful that my friends and family aren’t sick, or, when they are, that we live in an area with excellent hospitals.

I think about all of these things.  I also think about “what if”.  Probably a lot more than I should.  I watch speculative disaster television and read speculative (science) fiction.  I have mental plans for what to do in the event of apocalypse, and I have prepared for many different ways that could come down.  I’ve even gone so far as to discuss aspects of it with my family.  I don’t have any physical supplies, but considering the way I live, I’m not sure I could transport much of anything, so they would probably go to waste.

My point, before I lose it, is that I don’t take much for granted.  I live with an overwhelming sense that I have no idea what tomorrow will bring – plans or no.  The natural disasters of the past decade have taught me that.  New York State might be on a minor fault line, but it’s still a fault line and there’s certainly the possibility that it will open up one day and eat us all.  Or maybe Yellowstone will finally blow and the wind will push all the ash in our direction, blotting out the sun.

Is that the message that people are trying to convey?  That you can’t take anything for granted and you need to live in the moment?  Or is it really a message of “things are so much worse for other people, your problems do not matter”.

Well, you know what?  In the grand scheme of things, none of it matters.  Everyone dies and, in the sense of geologic time, a human lifespan is shorter than the blink of a proverbial eye.  It may not matter to you that things make my life unhappy, but it affects how productive I can be.  On a bad day, it affects whether or not I get out of bed (on time).  Our “petty” problems aren’t petty to us, and while we watch the news footage and YouTube videos of the destruction in Japan, we’re mostly being voyeurs, not concerned citizens somehow trying to find a higher power in all of it.

Call me callous, but things that happen elsewhere don’t stop smaller problems that affect us directly.  Thankfully, I haven’t lost anyone I love to a natural disaster, but even if I did, it wouldn’t change your life or lessen the problems that you’re dealing with.  It might overshadow the problems in my own life, but even something that personal doesn’t make the rest of the suck go away.

Regular readers of my blog know that I went through some pretty heavy shit the past few years, and most of it was completely consuming.  I lost friends who told me, in no uncertain terms, that they were not interested in listening to me complain about anything.  I have at least one friendship that was irreparably changed and lessened by that sort of statement.  I had people tell me that I should suck it up and move on.  I also had people tell me that my problems were a drop in the bucket compared to [something else].  All that ever does is tell people that they don’t matter.  And with major disasters in other countries, it says “You matter less to me than strangers.”

This is a terrible message that we send and it needs to stop.  Your problems matter to you, whoever you are.  You might live a comparatively charmed life, but it doesn’t mean your problems cease to matter or somehow wind up mattering less.

One caveat to this, though.  When you have people in your life who are suffering more than you, be considerate.  My friend (who knows who she is) was unemployed for a while and, at one point said to (not about) me, “You know, it’s really hard to listen to people complain about how much their job sucks when I don’t even have one.”  I immediately apologized if I had done that (she said I hadn’t, but…) and made an effort to not complain to her on that subject.  That, I think is reasonable, but even then, she didn’t say that job suck problems don’t matter, just that she cant’ listen to them.  That’s a mindset I can get behind.

Mar 26

There’s no getting around it, I look terrible on paper.

I’ve tried everything I can think of.  I’ve written tens of different resumes of every type I’m aware of; I’ve asked other people to look it over and tear it apart and, other than finding typos, they don’t really know how to fix it either.  I’ve done too many things in too few places.  I started off too scattered and now I’m too specialized.  Way too specialized, while still being too broadly scattered.

And I have no idea how to fix it.

I’ve talked about this before, how people are judged by how they look on paper, and I don’t find that anything has really changed.  Well, that’s not true – I’m feeling an urgency to figure out the next step.  Do I keep doing what I’ve been doing?  Do I find something entirely different and try out a new path?  I have no idea.  I need a change and I’m a little worried that I don’t have the tools to make that happen with my employment.

I have no pedigree.  I have an ABA, and no certifications.  I have a few solid references and can provide writing samples, but that’s not nearly enough.  I have three different versions of job histories and none of them are workable at all.  I think I have to accept that this is just out of my reach.  I am not capable of turning myself into a paper doll.

But there are people who do this, right?  There are services I can pay for that will write me a resume and get me on my way.  The problem is that I no longer know what I want to do when I grow up.  I thought I was on a career path, but it turned out I was on a career island the whole time, walking in circles.

Every day that passes, retail looks more attractive.  Every day that passes, those work-from-home scams look more promising.  I’m afraid I’m going to make a bonehead move and get myself locked into something like perfume sales again, just out of desperation.  But I already don’t look good on paper, can I really apply “no real qualifications for anything” on top?  And in a bad economy.

What’s even worse is that the couple of things I’m actually interested in doing are dying industries that are hard to get into.  So, at 35, what do I do?  I’ve already made one major career change in my life, do I really have it in me to do it again?

It seems I have a lot more questions than answers.  And, frankly, after I started writing this (over a month ago), I looked at my resume and found that it’s not as bad as I thought it was.  I’ve decided not to make any major life decisions until May (after my cruise), but these thoughts are starting the process for the decisions that will have to be made shortly after I come home.

For now, though, all I can do is think about it, and keep trying to look better on paper.

Mar 25

Once again, I find myself complaining about Facebook.  No, not about Facebook, but about the way people use it.

You are not your child.  I like to think that most people already know this, but I”m not sure they actually do.  Facebook is designed to give you a place to define your online self without sacrificing the real life you in the process.  It’s a non-anonymous solution to the rampant trolling that defined the first decade-plus of the internet.  Your profile picture and name are attached to your comments and activities on outside sites, most of the time because we choose it to be.

So why define yourself as your child?

It’s all about the profile picture.  While some folks may have fake accounts in the names of their pets or their children, those tend to not be primary accounts, but why do so many parents insist on representing themselves as their children?

I understand wanting to share the joy of your new child.  I also understand the value of Facebook in sharing  photos, videos and stories about what your child did, but if I’m reading your words, why the hell am I looking at a picture of your child?  Even the most polite and well-mannered people in the world sometimes say things that aren’t child-appropriate.  When those statements are attached to a photo of an infant or toddler, it becomes off-putting.

Would you have your child deliver the messages that you’ve attached their faces to?  Would you ever send your child to tell the news about your political outrage, someone’s illness or death, or even just the story of your fender-bender?  You wouldn’t.  No one would, because it’s inappropriate, but the same people who would scream bloody murder if the actual message was delivered by a child will deliver even worse with their own child’s photo smiling away.

I know that there are a lot of parents who do define themselves by their children.  Women who become mothers and give up all other forms of identity are a pretty common thing.  I’m not saying you can’t be defined by your children, but I cannot accept the ridiculous idea that it’s okay to represent yourself using your childrens’ faces.

Frankly, if I wanted to look at pictures of your kids, I would go to your albums and look.  In fact, a lot of the time I *do* look through pictures, but more and more I feel the desire to start removing people who won’t put their own faces (or bodies, but that’s a whole ‘nother post) on their own words.  I find it a little cowardly and a lot saddening.

At the very least, I ask that those who engage in this practice think hard about how they are representing not only themselves but their children.  If you’re going to swear and make dirty jokes or expound on political views or engage in any hot topics at all, don’t drag your kids into it.  Every time you post a status, think about whether or not you would be willing to let your child share that information with your friends and family.

But just try to remember that you’re not your child, no matter how dedicated you are to being a parent.  Even if it’s your doppelganger, it’s not you, it’s not YOUR face and you might be making yourself and your child look bad.

Mar 24

I leave Albany to start the overall Bermuda Adventure on May 6.  It turns out that I’ll miss both Free Comic Book Day *and* Albany’s Tulip Fest, which I haven’t missed since I came back here in 1999.  It’s a little disappointing, but this cruise should be worth the trade-off.

As I write this, I’m waiting to hear from the cruise people that my final payment has been applied to my account and that I’m good to go.  I have until March 27 (3 days) to confirm everything, but I can’t do that until the final payment goes through, so I’m getting a little antsy and, believe me, will raise holy hell if they drag their feet and screw me over.  I’m not a fan of the guy they hired.  The owner is fantastic, his assistant seems a bit dim.

Here’s my checklist:

  • Passport
  • Pay cruise in full
  • Confirm cruise stuff and things online before March 27
  • Book hotel room
  • Sign up for hotel’s rewards program (necessary for free wi-fi, which I may or may not use)
  • Pay for hotel room (can’t happen until I actually stay there, but I’ll consider it complete when I have the money in my bank account or a sealed envelope)
  • Buy 2 1 cocktail dresses
  • Spending money (I loaned money to trustworthy people last year who were instructed to pay me back out of their tax returns.  Total expected: $600, total in hand: $150)
  • Get a credit card (just in case)
  • Buy train ticket to NYC
  • Pack and go

So, yeah, there’s still a little bit of financial stuff to deal with, but after the $3k that this vacation is costing me a dress, train ticket and hotel stay are a drop in the bucket.  I’m more concerned about the lessening amount of time that I have to wrap everything up.

All that said, I can’t help getting excited.  While I’m trying to stay calm and not get all worked up, everyone is excited FOR me and I tend to feed off of that sort of energy.  “OMG, are you so excited????”  “OMG!  SO.  EXCITED.”  The truth of it is that I go back and forth.  I have some serious, paralyzing fear from time to time.  Keep in mind that I’m flying solo on this grand adventure, so I have no guarantees of companionship and will be forced to meet new people.  Yes, I’m experienced and good at it, but it doesn’t make it easy for me.

But I don’t tend to let things that are difficult stop me.  If anything, I redouble my efforts when things get hard.  I’m competitive and compete against myself.  It’s a matter of me vs. me, who can make the most friends, or collect the most business cards or maybe just have the most meaningful conversations.  Regardless, I’ll figure it out.  At the very least, I’ve paid for the SciAm program and have at least one planned excursion.  It’s now simply a matter of getting out of my own way.