Of Date Nights and Diets

FryDaddy and I like to do "Big Date Night" on a regular basis and it had been a while.  So this weekend, we got ourselves all slicked up and headed to the closest Greater Metropolitan Area ("GMA") to attend a performance of Orff's Carmina Burana.  I was very much looking forward to it - I think it's a rich, robust, over-the-top piece that serves Date Night well.

Turns out this one took some work and some attitude adjusting.  Driving into the GMA is often an adventure due to ever ongoing roadwork and an odd predilection for travel lanes to become "oh, but you can park here during the day and this jackass hasn't moved their car yet" adventures in merging.  We were both a tad grumpy by the time we'd parked our car (in a garage, mind you.  Not on the street, which would have added to the merging problem.  Part of the solution, that's us).  But things were about to look up.  The venue turned out to be spacious and the staff welcoming.  Heavy pick-up snackerels were provided and you could even take your beverages into the performance hall.  We sat down front again and saw our friend who plays that wonderful composite viola.  There were a couple of bumps - people who used the front row to cut across to the other side of the theatre, one youngthing who didn't understand the rudeness of tweeting throughout the performance (really, chickie?  In the front row in full view of God and the performers?) and a quartet who came in and blundered past us - I kid you not - a half hour into a hourish show.  (On the plus side, they blocked my view of Text Girl, who was seriously annoying me.)

Still.

Carmina is best known for the opening piece, "O Fortuna" which went through quite a vogue in the 90s and is found in many a film soundtrack.  Here's a fun version mocking the lyrics of the piece, but I must admit to a fondness for the sheer "bigness" on it.  Carmina also features a nearly hysterically funny bit told from the point of view of a roasting swan (I know, but trust me - scroll down for the English translation of the lyrics) who is gifted with a pure tenor voice.

I enjoy having the opportunity to get dressed up and go out with  FryDaddy  - we both clean up pretty well, once you get shoes on  us.  Nevertheless, I was pleasantly stunned by the number of comments from strangers about my dress, hair and overall "non scaring of the horses."  It pointed out something I'd been feeling lately.  This will sound strange and odd, but such is the life of the contemporary American woman.

I'm just fine.

Really.  Just as I am.  While I'd like to see the scale's needle come to a stop at a number lower than the one it hovers on, I really am just peachy.  I'd like to continue to build on the better diet habits I've been developing over the past year - water and vegetables are my friends - but cupcakes aren't the enemy, either.  I like walking for exercise and it's fine if I stroll with the Spookster instead of feeling like we have to gogogo.

It's a new feeling, this sense of being okay with myself.  I think I'm going to explore it for a while.

If You Love 'em, Leash 'em!

I live within the city limits of a small town (population 21,000 or so) in a mostly rural area.  Within the city limits, there is a leash law for critters of the furry persuasion.  (I maintain that there ought to be leash law for some of the two-legged varmints who currently roam the streets with impunity, but this post isn't about them.  But they know who they are.)  This is a ordinance that is routinely ignored, which is a shame.  I've heard any number of excuses for it, but my least favorite has to be "I don't like to confine my dog.  He should run free."

Really, Jacko?  This isn't Elsa the Lioness we're talking about.  Dogs running free get into all sorts of trouble - some involving rabid raccoons, some involving eating rotten trash, some involving other people's property, and some much, much worse.  My beloved Spooky is a wonderful animal who has successfully raised a happy cat from kittenhood, but she's not especially street-smart.  I love to watch her stretch out and run and one of the flaws of my town is that there's not a dog park anywhere around, so I understand the desire to take her off-leash somewhere.

But.

Life is a risky proposition and we're responsible for our four-legged ones, who don't always know what's good for them.  This weekend, the Spookster and I were enjoying the sunshine and strolling though the neighborhood, just watching the daffodils and commenting on the boldness of the squirrels when disaster struck.  An unleashed, no doubt loved, pet came running top speed toward us, barking fiercely.  He left his front yard, crossed into the road where WHAM! he ran smack into a passing car that was between us and the dog.  The car was going too fast (and didn't stop - a topic for another time) and the dog turned and ran back to its people, who were congregated in the driveway.  I'm screaming, Spooky's pulling at the leash, they're grouped around the other dog - a huge commotion.

I have no idea if the dog is okay or not.  (Let me emphasize the dog hit the car, not the other way around - the wheel did not go over the poor thing, but there's no way he wasn't hurt badly by the encounter.)  Here's the worst part - well, aside from that awful noise and the dog's yelp - the whole thing was avoidable.  Dogs don't understand boundaries.  And invisible fences don't always work and they NEVER work on a dog that doesn't have a collar on (a visitor's dog, for example).  Leashes DO work.  If you love your dog, please - use a leash.

So if you love your dog, or animals in general, or if you think our veterans often get a raw deal - please read the linked story and toss a buck or two toward Sadie's cause through PayPal.  (That's Sadie at the top of this post, by the way.)  The story contains an update - people are coming through for this vet and it's a great, a truly FANTASTIC, way to embody the concept of paying it forward.  Really - how often do you get a chance to make a difference like this with a couple clicks of a mouse?  It doesn't have to be much and you can say that you did more to support the troops than make "tsk, tsk" sounds.  If you can't do that, you could always drop off a couple of cans of food or some toys at the Humane Society of your town.  Tell 'em it's from Sadie.

Working on Joy

Yesterday, I did something crazy and nearly totally unlike me.  It was a radical departure from the norm.  Almost (but not quite) scary.

I took the day off.

Well, mostly.  I took care of a couple of work & house things, but then had a conversation with FryDaddy who  came home a little early from school this week.  Some class cancellations that were announced in advance, a little working ahead, and a little planning made this possible for him.  For me, it was a regular work week, which (to be honest with you) stunk like very bad meat or very good cheese.  I do not intend to let this happen again - a subject that will be revisited in April, so stay tuned.

At any rate, I decided (and was supported in my decision by my unindicted co-conspirator) to just stop for the rest of the day.  We had already made some plans for the day and joyfully made some others to add to the existing ones.  The funny thing is, our plans didn't quite work out - the show we had arranged to see was just a hot plate of awful, dinner involved a bit of a wait for seats at the kitchen bar (we'd still be waiting if we had insisted on a table), and the movie was meh, despite the Oscar buzz.

So what?

We were in it together.  And, lo, it was good.

It'd be nice if we didn't have to plan to have fun and it'd be nice if I didn't feel like I was getting away with something by not being hooked into work so much of the time when I'm not in the office.  But life is.  I'm not sure what comes after the verb there, but yesterday was a mess o' fun and I'm convinced that's not a bad thing. Yeah, it'd be nice if I didn't have to work on joy, but it'd be much worse if I thought that because I do have to work on it, that I just shouldn't bother.

Joseph Campbell had it mostly right - following your bliss is a good and noble thing, but first you have to take the time to look for it.  And that's not usually done hunched over a computer keyboard checking course assignments.  Ibsen's Nora was right - while there are duties and responsibilities that we have toward others, there are also duties and responsibilities to oneself and those have to be answered to as well.

Now go play!

Coming Back from Crazy

I have not withdrawn into despair, 

I did not go mad in gathering honey

I did not go mad

I did not go mad

I did not go mad.

                                               -- Hoda Al-Namani

I haven't written in longer than normal.  That's not the pattern here at the Nest and I hope it doesn't become the pattern.  Generally, I post here weekly, but the last two weeks have been unusual-to-bizarre.  I don't want to go into detail on that, so let's just leave it at this.  

I've been crazy.

Not dangerous, "homicidal maniac" crazy, but not the whimsical, "oh, let's splash barefoot in the fountain" sort either.  I was beyond the limits of merely stressed out and lurching seriously toward Froot Loop territory.  You know that land - it's where nothing works quite right and you can't see any way through the stone wall in your path other than to batter your head bloody against it.  (Gentle hint - see if you can go up and over it, or consider digging.  Or - here's an idea! - look for a door.)  At any rate, it wasn't pretty and I'm glad it's (apparently) over.  

I've been a Froot Loop before.  There are just some things in life that I seem flat-out destined to have to learn over and over.  I include those lessons here so that, hopefully, some kind of good can come from my trip to the borders of Crack-Up Land.

• People have free will and, as such, will not do what you want them to do if it conflicts with what they want to do.  
• When technology doesn't work, try it a second time.  Then read the directions and try a third time.  But at that point, if it doesn't work, call a professional and walk away from it!!
• It's okay to not know everything about anything, much less everything about everything.
• Not every obstacle in your path was put there by the Universe specifically to vex you.
• Try to be patient and that includes treating yourself with compassion.
• To wit, healthy eating and exercise habits are good, but when you feel like the only activity you're up for is to curl up in your rattiest pajamas and cry soundlessly, get ice cream.  Stat.
• Music is a balm to the ruffled soul and if other people don't share your tastes, shut the door and crank it up.  Personally, I find Earth, Wind & Fire to be useful in these times, but if Zamfir, Master of the Pan Flute is your thing, peace be upon you.
• It's not as bad as it seems.  And you really don't have to take it so seriously.
• No matter how frustrated and angry you become when the Universe persists in acting with total indifference to your whims, never act in such a way as to scare small children or animals.  They don't get that you're not actually nuts.
• No matter what it is, be it tech that won't work or the Twilight craze, this too shall pass.

True, I did not go mad.  But if I'd remembered these things, I probably could have gotten saner earlier and I know I'd have been considerably easier to live with.

Mockingbird and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

(with apologies to Alexander)

It doesn't happen often, thank goodness.  But Friday was one of those fortunately-rare-but-still-quite-nasty Very Bad Days.

It's hard to explain, but since we all go through these sometimes, I probably don't have to explain it much.  It was a Very Bad Day.  It's not that anything horrible actually happened - I didn't have an accident with the car, I didn't get some devastating diagnosis, and I didn't end the day with fewer fingers than I started it with - but it was a Very Bad Day nevertheless.  See, it doesn't take a tragedy to drive me off into the Forest of Crazy; in fact, I'm one of those who totally gets the Dorothy Parker quip that it's not the tragedies that kill us; it's the messes.

And what a mess.

All I wanted to do (the lament of the unsuccessful) was take this Powerpoint I'd made for my upcoming online class - and made with love and care, mind you - put some narration over the top of it and then gently drop my baby into the online platform we use for such classes so my tender birdling students could be fed from its wisdom.  Easy, right?  A couple of clicks of a mouse, right?

Ha, she said bitterly.

I couldn't figure it out.  Like, at all.  I had the same chance of coming through this experience unscathed as (to borrow from the magnificent Douglas Adams) a whelk in a supernova.  I couldn't get the microphone hooked up properly.  I couldn't figure out how to start recording.  I couldn't figure out how to save the recording.  I couldn't figure out the search terms that would help me figure out the answers.  I yelled at the computer.  I yelled at the microphone.  I yelled at Bill Gates and, just to be thorough, I roundly cursed Steve Jobs.

I am deeply ashamed to say I lost my temper and yelled at the dog.

Literally hours of that madness, and I was still not one whit closer to figuring out the answer than I am today at forming the Grand Unified Theory of Everything.

And yet.

I was reminded of how lucky I am.  I have friends who listened to my wild-eyed rantings and told me it would be okay.  Who made me feel better that I was even trying to figure out tech stuff (probably needless to say at this point, but it's NOT my strong suit.  Hell, it's barely a card in my deck).  I have friends who took one look at me and suggested that I just stop for a while.  (Great wisdom is in these words:  "When nothing you're doing works, do nothing.")  I eventually figured it out - it may not be the quickest, more elegant solution, but duct tape can hold any number of things together as well as a weld.  And tomorrow, one of my lovely and learned friends has agreed to meet with me and take a look at the patch-job I've come up with.  She probably won't even laugh - she's that good.

The lesson in here?  Sometimes the day just doesn't bend your way.  When that happens, it's okay to quit.  Walk away - the problem will still be there once you cool down (and if it isn't, so much the better) and you won't seem like such a raving crazy person.  I didn't learn that and I had some apologies to make later.  I also threw my good eating habits to the wind, because it seemed like cream sauce and cupcakes were a better choice than committing a string of Class A felonies.  (Which is true, but it's far better to not get in that place to begin with.)  Scarlett O'Hara was right - tomorrow is another day and you can always take another run at it then.  Go a little easy on yourself.

Oh, and the dog forgave me.  I swear, there are days when I don't deserve that critter.

Not All Hours Are Billable

Back when I worked as a litigation lawyer, keeping up with my "billable hours" was a big part of  my everyday life.  It's not exactly a natural part of your life, but it's hammered into you that it's going to be a very important part of your bank-wall-grey-suited life.  Think about it.  Every time you make a phone call, even if you only leave a message, you must remember to enter the client's name and code and assign a time value to the call, usually one-tenth of an hour for a phone message.  And you do that for every single task you perform that day.  Every letter, every snippet of research, every paragraph drafted, every phone call made, every e-mail read, much less returned - all of these must be assigned to a client and billed for.

Crazy making.  But that's how lawyers bill.  (By the way, flat fees are the way to go.  That way, you only pay once and you know exactly how much it is.  Just sayin'.)

The problem is that once you get that mindset in your head, it's darned hard to get it out.  And not all hours are (or should be) billable.

It's hard for me.  I have a job that I really, really enjoy, but I've learned - slowly and painfully - that I'm better at it when I build in breaks and time off from it.  I'm good with deadlines, but my brain also needs time to let ideas percolate.  The trick is building in "percolation time."  My regular course load requires me to teach five classes per semester, plus two in the summer.  That's five classes worth of papers, tests, speech presentations, journals, outlines, and various smaller assignments to collect, comment on, and grade.  That's five classes worth of student e-mails, excuses for missed classes, student appointments, and assorted student problems, on top of committee assignments, book orders, faculty and divisional meetings, reports, professional development, portfolio composition, and adjunct wrangling to handle - all without the prospect of tenure.  It's a loaded plate and, for the most part, I love it.  Seriously - I do.  Furthermore, I think I'm pretty good at it.

Education isn't widget-building, no matter what the business folks say.  You can't run a school like a business; not entirely.  This is because you're dealing with people rather than interchangeable parts.  I need to be chipper and upbeat and encouraging with everyone who crosses my threshold and that's not easy.  And that's a task that takes way more than a single approach.

That's why you'll see bottles of soap bubbles when you visit my office.  There are also cartoons on the wall and sock puppets in a basket.  There's a plastic raygun that makes a loud "whizz, whizz, whizz" noise when you pull the trigger and also a miniature Zen water fountain for quiet.  In the window are plants that need sunshine and water to remind me that we all need those things.  There's a copy of Dr. Seuss' Oh, The Places You'll Go and sometimes you'll find me reading that.  Sometimes you'll find me reading a copy of a journal that has an article describing an idea I want to try out.  And sometimes you'll see a sign that says, "On walking track" stuck on my door - generally speaking, movement clears my head better than just sitting.

Sometimes, you need to be hunched over a keyboard, researching or drafting or grading or planning.  But sometimes you need to be elsewhere, dreaming or thinking or holding an idea up to the light to look at it from a different perspective.  And all those times are important.

Even if they're not all billable.

New Year!

It's a new year, which means - well, all sorts of things.  FryDaddy has returned for his last semester of undergraduate schoolin', leaving the house a bit on the lonely side.  We took down Christmas before he left, but the bits and pieces of the holiday are strewn from one end of the guest room/study to the other.  I'll get it packed over the next few days and when FryDaddy comes home for the weekend, we'll transfer it to the attic and hunker down for the holiday-less winter.  (That's why I left the colored lights on the porch roof - maybe they're tacky, but they certainly seem cheerful on a grey January evening!)

My classes for the spring semester start Tuesday and, while I"m basically prepared, there are always things to do and tasks to complete.  My resolution for this year is to try harder to realize that we're all doing the best we can and - face it - most of us have days where we're just trying to get by on half throttle.  I'm teaching my introduction to film class in an online format this go-round and I don't want to just have blocks and blocks of text, so I'm working to master a variety of tech tools that I've used in the past, but never become especially proficient with.  I'm trying to enjoy the journey.

And what a journey this year is shaping up to be!  FryDaddy and I signed our first joint book contract right around the New Year - we're under contract with ECW Press out of Toronto, Canada to produce Wanna Cook?  The Unofficial Guide to Breaking Bad and we couldn't be more delighted!  We're working hard to both complete the draft on time - it's an episode guide, but goes WAY beyond mere recaps - and to spread the word about the project.  You'll find us blogging about the project and Breaking Bad in general on our blogs -  FryDaddy 's is here and I have a "work and publication" blog that you can access here; please follow us! - as well as on sites such as the network site and Television Without Pity.  You can also keep us with us in short bursts on Twitter - use #wannacook and you'll find us.

All this and a full course load, writing a paper for Slayage 5 in July, and the commuter marriage.  My cup truly runneth over!  If only I can steer clear of that one valley . . .

Onward into 2012!