Landslide

I got some good advice from a friend recently. We were discussing the difference between having really good coping mechanisms for stress and actually reducing stress. She tackled the problem in her own life by developing a mission statement for herself...then evaluating everything that came up in her life against that mission statement. If it fit within the parameters of the mission, it merited her attention. If not, she let it go. She claims it's still a work in progress, but I can already see that it works. She is definitely one of the most at-ease, centered people I know.

My life has kicked into overdrive lately. I was accepted into a Leadership Development Program at work, which is a tremendous honor. I'm one of only two people at my level to ever be chosen for the program. The trade-off, of course, is that it comes with additional work (we have to do a class project for the Command). As planned, I took over a new branch at work about a month ago -- a good move for me developmentally, but it comes with a steep learning curve that I'm working to tackle. Not four days into the new job, I got word that I was accepted into the Master's program that I didn't get into over the summer. The news was excellent, but it came entirely out of the blue...and only three weeks before I had to be in California for orientation. Then, last Monday was the Monkey's parent-teacher conference. As expected, the Monkey is extremely academically talented...but his underdeveloped fine motor skills, inability to control his body, and dearth of focus renders him "unbalanced." She recommended a pediatric evaluation and an occupational therapy program as soon as possible so that the issues can be corrected before he starts third grade. My first big grad school paper was due four days later.

If anyone needs a poster child for a stress-reduction awareness campaign, let me know. I photograph well.

So I took my friend's advice to heart and put together two little philosophies for my own life, both of which will work together to (I hope) help me deal with the landslide:

I want a healthy life: physically, mentally and emotionally.

Enacting this one is as simple as asking what choice I can make to contribute to my health. Will eating the Halloween candy make me healthy? No. So I've skipped it. (ok, most of it) Will wondering about why I've been stood up twice in the last week contribute to my emotional health? Nope...it's not in my control, and thinking about it won't change anything. Let it go. Is spending 20 minutes tidying up the house more important than getting to bed 20 minutes earlier? Yes, actually...I'll sleep better and feel calmer when I wake up if it's not a mess. Ok, then...get busy. Almost every moment presents a choice...and consciously taking charge of those choices makes a huge difference in how I feel.

Focus on the process....not the outcome.

I think I've always been an outcome-based person. Did I get an "A" on the paper? Good, then I did well. Did the date turn into a relationship? No, so there must be something wrong with me. The problem is that an outcome-based evaluation of my life and the things in it just doesn't work. I can't really do anything about the outcome...I can only impact the way that I get there. So that's where my energy belongs -- on the road, not the destination. I can't control whether or not the Monkey will improve his handwriting...but I can help him practice every night. I have no say in what grade my professor assigns to my paper...but I can learn how to approach my next paper from the way that I went about writing this one. The outcome is out of my hands...and worrying about it won't make it any more in my control, so it doesn't merit -- or get -- my energy.

My commute to work is only about 15 minutes, so the fact that I heard two versions of "Landslide" on the radio in the same week was significant. With the Monkey growing up and changes happening in my life faster than I can catalog, I'm definitely feeling every one of the landslide moments. But maybe if I take my friend's advice...if I restructure the way that I look at my life and where I put my energy...maybe the landslide won't bring me down.

Beat

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by
            madness, starving hysterical naked,
     dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn
            looking for an angry fix,
     angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly
            connection to the starry dynamo in the machin-
            ery of night,

Today marks the anniversary of the reading of Howl at the Six Gallery in San Francisco...the forming of the core of the Beat poets. They took up a collection from the 100 people who attended and Kerouac brought back jugs of red wine to pass around while the poets read. Ginsberg was doing his first public reading at age 29...as Kerouac chanted "go go go" in rhythm with the long lines Ginsberg read in a single breath. The crowd was frenzied by the end.

I may have written about Howl before. Ginsberg always makes me feel like I'm wasting my life, somehow... I don't know who the best minds of my generation are. And I should, shouldn't I? I mean, even if I don't know them personally, I should at least be able to say "oh yes...well these people are the best minds of my generation because..." So grr to that.

But, truthfully, it's the "angelheaded hipsters" notion that I love... I love the thought of sitting around some half-lit room talking long into the night. I love the idea of people debating ideas and wondering things and gesticulating wildly as they pontificate....smoking horrible cigarettes and downing shots of burning liquor and making music and poetry and ideas. Maybe nobody outside the room will ever hear any of them...but maybe that's not the point. And my part in this little fantasy? I mostly listen, I imagine...adding my thoughts to the melee when the time is right. I'm not really part of this group, and I know it...but in my imagining, they allow me. Somehow, that's enough.

"Peggy Sue Got Married" wasn't a fantastic movie by any means...but the character of Michael Fitzsimmons was endlessly fascinating to me. Even then (when I was much younger), the whole tortured-soul beat poet motif moved me. I'm far too practical to indulge the notion beyond the overly-romanticized ideas I cook up...but I like to dabble in the thought of it. And Howl, for me, is kind of the culmination of that whole oeuvre...a whiskey-burn of a toast to the heart and spirit and madness of all the best minds I've never known.

Well done, Allen. Well done.

Something Had To Go

I spent over an hour the other day writing a 3-page email to the front office on the program requirements of the Government Commercial Purchase Card Program and Official Representation Funds...and, specifically, the special conditions that must be met when the Government Commercial Purchase Card Program is used to make a purchase of "command coins" using Official Representation Funds and, further, how to properly account for and plan for ordering such coins to maintain the appropriately low levels of inventory for both the Official Representation Funds funded coins and appropriated funds funded-coins.

This, my friends, is why I can no longer successfully name any of the square states west of the Mississippi.

Uncomfortable Conjugation

Whoa.

In the space of a 5 minute conversation tonight, the Monkey managed to conjugate a noun (puberty) into two verb tenses (puberted, puberting), inquire about how puberty happens to girls (I would only tell him that "girls get breasts"...from which he concluded that "then they get married and get pregnant") AND ask more details about his birth.

So if this is what having a 7 year old is like...what are we going to be discussing when he's 13???

Two Minutes of Hope

...because sometimes that's just what you need...



...or maybe the most you can get. Either way.

Dinner

The dogs just barked so loudly at the pizza man that he wasn't sure if he was bringing dinner or if he WAS dinner. Poor guy. I tried to explain that they were just loud, but he was well past freaked and halfway out in the yard by that point.

I bet they draw straws at the local Papa Johns whenever my order pops up...short straw drops the 'za at the LoudDog House...and somebody's got a fiver on whether or not the loser needs to change his shorts when he gets back.

Petsat

I'm a relatively new pet owner. Prior to Marshall, the last dog I had was in the mid-90s: a feisty little Yorkie dog named Buster. I only had Buster for a year or so before I lost him in the split with my then-boyfriend (classic case: he needed the dog...the dog needed me...I let him win). There wasn't really time for Buster to make any doggie-friends.

Marshall, on the other hand, already has his first dogbuddy. In addition to the menagerie of dogs he's getting to know in his obedience class, he's also bonding with Ellen's dog Duke. Duke is a hefty yellow lab type... with a giant head and a happy tail and a body mass that makes Marshall's 67lbs look like a gawky teenager mid-growth spurt. He's pretty mellow (until the leash comes out!) and accustomed to having other dogs around. When Ellen asked if Duke could come stay with us for the week, I was happy to say yes! (It didn't occur to me until much later that I've never petsat before...so I only knew conceptually what I'd be facing!)

Well, we've reached the end of day #1 of doggie sleepover camp and I'm happy to report that we're off to an awesome start. No one has peed inappropriately...most the wrestling has been in good fun (jealousy of toys, notwithstanding)...my arm is still in socket from the walks...everybody picked a dinner and ate it...and if the level of wrestling is any indication, I think both dogs will sleep soundly tonight.


It's been funny to see Marshall go from being the Only Dog to the LIttle Brother. He's struggling (sometimes loudly) with sharing his toys...and doesn't quite understand when Duke wants to just crash out. I'm happy, however, that he's letting Duke take the lead sometimes. He's still a little more protective and wary than I'd prefer, but he's doing pretty well for his first foray into having another dog in the house. And, best of all, they're both doing a decent job of minding me. They're sitting at crosswalks...and separating and chilling out when the good-natured wrestling has turned a bit angry.

MissShirley and I have noted over the years how awesome it is when you get two or more little people together because the Moms can sit back with a glass of wine and just referee while they entertain themselves. Turns out it's mostly like that with dogs too. I'm not uncorking my merlot just yet...but I'm feeling good about the petsitting possibilities.

Centered

It always manages to start innocently enough... Today it was the microwave. I moved it an inch to the left in an effort to balance the coffee cups with the flower arrangement...and noticed that there was some sort of...schmootz...lurking under there...so I moved it some more and discovered that the schmootz started life as a liquid...then spilled and dribbled and dried into something black and sticky. Then, like Alice in the rabbit hole, cleaning the schmootz led to cleaning the whole counter top which led to cleaning the stove which led to cleaning the sink which led to cleaning all the little cracks and crevices of the faucet. And now my whole kitchen is shiny except for the floor...which I may not deal with until tomorrow.

People find their "center" in all sorts of ways. Some meditate...some do yoga...others walk the labrynth or drive fast or run for miles. Me? I clean.

Chocolate Chip Tequila

The Monkey is home and it's been glorious reconnecting with him. He was gone three weeks and got three hundred years older somehow... He's all full of grown-up observations and thoughtful glances and big ideas. He credits Hawaii for this transformation...and for his frequent use of the word "anti-climatic"...which makes me think maybe I haven't gotten the whole story about Hawaii yet.

On two separate dinners out, now, we've had the chance to talk about alcohol. (and don't worry...despite the fact that he's practically an old man, I'm not allowing him to drink). He's been trying to wrap his head around what he knows about alcohol and the copious advertisements for it at places like TGIFridays (where we lunched on Wednesday). Tonight's Mexican dinner led us to another conversation...

Monkey: Mommy, are you going to have a Fresh Watermelon Margarita?

Me: Oh, no, sweetie...I don't want to have any alcohol tonight.

Monkey: (incredulous) You mean that has alcohol???

Me: Yes...it does.

Monkey: Man...why does everybody put up ads for alcohol?

Me: Well, restaurants make a lot of money from it. Alcohol is kind of expensive...

Monkey: And bad for you.

Me: Yeah...it can be if you have too much.

Monkey: It's like cookies.

Me: It's what?

Monkey: Alcohol is like cookies...it's fine for a treat every now and then, but you wouldn't want to have it all the time.

Well, for now, he gets it. I'll check back in when he hits high school...

So 2000 and Late

You would think that, since music is kind of a huge part of my life, I would have been on the iPod bandwagon a long time ago. You'd be largely wrong.

It's true...I had a first-generation iPod and I used it from time to time when I took the train to work. It wasn't a big part of me, though... It always seemed a little heavy and weird. I couldn't remember to keep it charged. It just wasn't a priority by any means. When it eventually gave up and refused to sync with the iMac, I wasn't terribly upset. I really hadn't used it that much anyway.

I asked for an iPod nano for my birthday this year after seeing a friend's iPod car kit. I suddenly realized that I had the option to listen to a variety of music without having a million CDs floating around my car. This was a fanastic idea! The Monkey and MonkeyDad obliged and I'm now the owner of an adorable little hot pink Nano that fits perfectly (along with all of its accessories) in an adorable little hot pink eyeglasses case that I already owned.


See? So cute!

I'm already getting more use out of this little guy than I did from his big brother. A friend from college set me up with a brand new Klipsch iGroove for next to nothing. Now I can not only listen to the Nano in the house, but I can do it in a rather audiophile way. I still haven't mastered the iPod-in-the-car part of the plan, but I'll work on that. I've also used it on the treadmill a few times (Sarah MacLachlan is surprisingly nice to work out with!).

Yesterday, however, Matt Nathanson* inspired me to really put the little pink guy through his paces. I downloaded two of Matt's albums from iTunes and was dying to listen to them...but conflicted because I needed to stop procrastinating doing yard work. Hey! Why not do both? Earbuds plugged in...Nano in my pocket...and voila! Three hours of yard work flew by...as did another hour plus of cleaning the inside of the house...as did the 2 hour metro ride (there and back) to a friend's birthday soiree in DC. Dude, this iPod thing is outstanding!

I know...I know: Welcome to 2002. Maybe by the year 2015 I will have bought into the internet-on-the-cell-phone thing I keep hearing so much about...

___________________

*Do you know Matt Nathanson? You should. Miss Shirley and I saw him open up for the Indigo Girls this summer and he is phenomenal. He also does a fantastic Michael Stipe impersonation, but you don't need to see that to appreciate his music.