Sunday, January 30, 2011

"You'll find someone worth it someday"

I was talking to our previous business manager earlier this week (he moved departments, got a raise, etc.) working to solve a "since you're gone, who does this?" question. He's always taken a big brother-ly approach to our relationship, and always asks how I'm doing, how my family is doing, do I need help with anything, etc. He's one of the nicest people I've ever met, and I'm very sad that he's no longer our business manager.

In the course of all of the drama of the last 3 months, he had an idea of what was going on. He was genuinely concerned for my welfare and well-being, especially when he found out that within one hour as I drive through New Jersey my life sort of exploded. He's been there if I needed a sympathetic ear and always says the right (if clichéd) thing: "You don't need that kind of person in your life. You have too much going for you in every other place in your life right now that someone with that kind of behavior is just going to hold you back" and "Relationships are hard. Dating sucks. But when you find that right person, it will ALL be worth it."

He asked me the other day what I was doing, dating-wise (Not in a creepy way! He's quite possibly the least creepy person I know!). Was I ready to start dating again, and put myself back out there? Was I mentally ready for that?

The answers, both then and now, are complicated. Following the "I just got out of a relationship" rule (which is something like every month that you're in a committed relationship = one week of non-dating), I should emotionally/mentally be ready to start dating about now. 13 months = 13 weeks. Break up was the beginning of November and we're now approaching February, so hey! Datin' time, right?

Yes, I know that this is obviously completely optional. There are no rules when it comes to your head and your heart. Nothing ever makes sense and nothing really will, ever. You just kind of have to wing it the entire time, as you learn what your boundaries are and what you can and can't compromise with.

But I honestly have absolutely no interest in dating right now. (Sex, however, is a different subject.) Dating is WORK.
  • Dating is emotionally exhausting: Do they like me? Do I really like them or is it just my desperate libido talking? Why aren't they calling? Does this shirt make me look fat?
  • Dating takes time: Organize the date, vet the date (are they sane?), the date itself, getting ready for the date, calling all your girlfriends after the date to analyze it in excruciating detail...
    I have a fairly active life: choir, choir board/steering committee, art classes, friends, work, professional organization, volunteering, dog. Where the hell am I going to find time for a date in that?
  • Dating is uncomfortable: Once upon a time I was on my third date with this guy and he kept making God references, so I felt it was time to get that whole atheist-feminist-tree hugger stuff out into the open. He didn't call me back for 2 weeks. Clearly there was an awkward turtle moment in there for him. (I'm still not sure why he called me at all, if he had that much to work out in his head.)
  • Dating is weird. I mean, the concept of going out to meet people for the specific goal of finding someone that you can actually stand for long periods of time while carrying on a robust sexual relationship, anthropologically, is fascinating. OK, yes, totally better than my parents hooking me up with someone, but so many other cultures focus on either one of two things: keeping it in the tribe, or taking it out completely. It's not based wholly on "Are we compatible? Do I think I love you?" but "Is this what's best for our society and culture?" The fact that we have several hundred websites dedicated to finding you that special someone speaks volumes to the expectations we have as a sexually confused and emotionally stunted society.
I don't have time for that much work. I'm developing and launching new ideas at work (and people LIKE them). I'm working on improving my artistic skill sets so that I can put together a portfolio so that I can go to art school in the future. I have a geriatric, special-needs dog. I'm working my ass off to save a choir, and I'm singing in the choir as well. I'm trying to balance my need for time off with my love of involvement. I have a phone call regimen that I go through every week, to keep up with relationships across United States.

I know myself pretty well at this point. I'm not patient, I love efficiency when it comes to work and chores, and I have definite opinions on everything from how much money is being spent on war and military funds to Dante. I love to create things, nuture them and watch them grow. I crave order, structure, rational functions and directions. I make contingency plans because I don't like the unexpected. I like small surprises, such as gifts of hugs or candy but I can't stand major ones. I am independent. I can occasionally have the mouth of a creative sailor. I can be spontaneous when the setting are right.

I am not an easy person to date. I have expectations. I have requirements. And I'm at that point where anyone who thinks that I need to adjust them or get rid of them entirely is quite possibly an idiot. That's what life is: a series of requirements that you make for yourself. It's often unconscious and intangible, but at the end of the day, that's what we do. I make goals at work (with the dreaded FOCUS forms), I make goals professionally, I make goals artistically and for my every day life. I'm going to have relationship goals. There are requirements in every other aspect of my life, and I'd be an idiot myself to think that I could date the first Joe off the street. I mean, what if they're part of the Tea Party and like Republican talk radio?!

I'm sure that I'll get back out there, at some point. And I'm not anti-men at the moment. I'm just... Pro-Erin. I need and want to focus on me and my skills and my life and my current relationships with friends and family. It's going to be like that for a while, I think. I'm happy being me, and I need to stay happy being me.

Saturday, January 22, 2011

We're a little better now

I don't have some deadlines looming over my head any longer, which makes me less stressed.
I got some clarification on a project, which gives me guidance.
I got permission to buy some basic business cards for the Bass Media program. Which is mostly just nice.
I have a basic plan outlined for projects, which allows me to focus on now stuff now, and next week stuff next week.
I fixed my humidifier. Turns out I have an unlevel floor, which affects the water level meter thingy, which in turn creates a cranky humidifier. Wedge under one foot = happy humidifier!
I have a new book to read from Michelle, which makes me insanely happy because it's a for pleasure book instead of a work read book. Media is interesting and all, but sometimes I need something else.

Dear Sanity,
Please come back into my life. I miss you!
Love, Erin

Friday, January 21, 2011

BACK OFF

I'm having a bad day. I'm defensive, hormonal, and have a LOT of work to do.

The next person who pisses me off will be treated to their own private version "the round house to the face" that John got two months ago. You should all know by now that I don't make idle threats. I, unlike most of the world, follow through when I say that I can and will use public humiliation as an effective tool to get people do to what I want. Today, I want everyone to leave me alone and let me do my job.

Don't. Push. Me.

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

OMG deliciousness (and birthday presents)

I have a crock pot, and in the winter I tend to use it at least once a week. It cooks a lot of food so I can share meals with the girls, have meals for rushed dinner days (Tuesdays I have art class and Wednesday's are choir), and there's still some left over for lunches.

The most recent thing I made was sort of a roast in clear liquid with some veggies. The trick to a successful crock pot roast is to buy a fattier cut and then sear the hell out of the thing. NOTE: Searing meat does not "seal in" the juices. It does cause the Maillard reaction, though, which makes things damn tasty. Kitchen Myths has more info, if you're curious. (If you use a leaner cut of meat, you are going to end with with very dry icky meat and why the hell did you just spend good money on meat when you're going to ruin it?)

I used pork butt (it's OK to giggle, I do every time, too). It's nicely marbled with fat, and after it hangs out in the crock pot all day, when you take that first sip of broth and bite into the meat as it falls apart on your fork, it's kind of like heaven. Buttery, delicious pork heaven. No, I have no idea what the calorie count is, and I don't want to.

After searing the pork butt in oil, I threw it into the crock pot with a large can of diced tomatoes, baby carrots, celery chunks about the same size as the carrots, parsnips, a very large handful of fresh, chopped parsley, salt, pepper, 2 bay leaves, large chunks of onion and 5 cloves of garlic (halved). Threw in some water so that most everything is covered, and then I used low heat for 8 hours (I was sleeping) and then it sat on warm all day while I was at work.

And then we ate and ate and ate that delicious pork butt. OM NOM NOM. Aunties Heather and Michelle gave it their full approval while Parker looked on with jealousy as we munched away on Saturday night. (And then I spilled cherry wine all over Michelle's table linens and felt really bad. But apparently it wasn't too bad because she still give me my birthday present, which was an awesome Darth Vader pancake spatula, which matches the awesome Star Wars pancake molds that my dad got me for Christmas. Heather got me a neti pot, which I have already used twice and it is awesome.).

Monday, January 17, 2011

The highs, the lows

Training went really, really well.

Then I came home and took a well-deserved nap.

Then I found out that one of the IT staff members at Saint Mary's passed away today.

Tonight, I ask that you think good thoughts, say a prayer, light a candle - whatever it is you do - to commemorate the life of a wonderful woman. I didn't know her as well as I do other members of Saint Mary's IT staff, but I know that she will be missed and that hearts are hurting at home.

Pax, Mary Gay. Pax, SMC.

Sunday, January 16, 2011

One year older, one year bolder

So on Friday I turned 25.

It doesn't really feel much different from 24. I have a sneaky suspicion that 26 won't feel much different at the time, either. (Though according to my insurance company, I magically became more mature on Friday so they knocked $300 off. SCORE.)

But I am different, in so many ways, than the person I was 365 days ago.

I have a new job, a new department, new coworkers, a new boss and a slightly changed job description. The dream job at Yale is perhaps gradually turning into the dream career.
I have fewer student workers, but almost complete autonomy in how I manage and teach them.
I'm single. And for the first time in a very long time, have accepted that I don't need a relationship to make me happy.
I'm down another grandparent, and grateful that he is no longer in pain and confusion.
My relationship with one of my cousins is improving. We actually communicate.
My relationship with my grandmother has also taken a turn for the positive.
I'm getting back into the art groove (photography, ceramics, and crocheting), so that I can go get an MFA someday.
I'm almost migraine-free. I get one every 3 months instead of one every 2 weeks.
I've learned that it's OK to tell people no: I have limits and everyone needs to respect them.
I've also learned that when people offer to help you, they want you to let them help you. And they'll do a lot for you if you let them.
I know more than I ever wanted to about canine digestive tracts. And dog poop.
I stepped up to the plate for my choir (which is more of an ongoing project).
I decided to stop being nice all the time to everyone, especially here on my blog. This is MY spot, MY space. (No one's forcing you to read it!)

Hopefully 25 will teach me just as much 24 did. (Though I would appreciate not having a lot of crap thrown at me in the course of one week again, Universe. Just sayin'.)

Daily Photo: Nathan Hale After The Storm


I tromped around Old Campus last weekend after we had a snowfall, between the hours of 11:00pm and 1:30am. It was gorgeous!

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Grateful: 365

I typically don't make New Year's Resolutions. I think they are pointless and prone to failure. Seeing as I probably have a failure/high expectations complex of some sort, I tend to avoid things that I think I'll fail at, because I hate hate hate failing.

The past 3 months have been difficult. They've been really, really hard. I lost a grandparent and a boyfriend in the same week. I've been unspeakably angry some days. I've been frustrated and upset, and generally living on an emotional rollercoaster. Seeing as how I despise amusement parks and coasters in general, feeling like I'm living on one has been incredibly awful.

Luckily, I have some inspiration. One has been reading about and following the life of Katie, the primary blogger behind Marriage Confessions. Katie's been having a rough time, too. Way rougher than I've had. The manner - the sheer grace - in which she handles her issues is amazing, and gives me the confidence that I too can hang in there, and learn something about myself along the way.

The other inspiration has been my friend Mara's daily grateful statuses on Facebook. (Mara is incidentally the person who introduced me to Marriage Confessions.) So I decided to do it, too. Didn't quite get started on it on New Year's Day, but better late than never. Every day we post something that we're grateful for. It doesn't have to be earth-shattering in its amazingness. One day I was grateful for oatmeal. By contrast, today I am grateful for supportive supervisors.

Every morning, I take a few minutes to count my blessings. And it makes all the difference in my day. I'm happier from the get go, because I've taken a moment at the beginning to reflect, rather than at the end of the day, when I'm tired and want nothing more than for my skin care routine to magically take care of itself.

I am truly blessed. Through hard work, perseverance, a lot of love and support from my friends and family, and a dash of luck, I've managed to successfully carve out a niche for myself at a world-class higher ed institution. I have a voice with which to make music. I have a strong sense of self, and I've learned how to play well with most others. I love my job more than ever, and even when my days truly suck, there are a dozen people I know I can call for an infusion of support and love.

So this year, I am grateful. Every day. For everything you've done for me, and everything you ever will. I love you all.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Parker can't eat that, either

Continuing in the theme of yesterday's "Food Issues, I Got 'Em", tonight we're going to talk about my dog's dietary needs.

"Wait, what?" you say. "It's a dog. It eats dog food. It begs for treats and then you give it rawhides and occasionally a shoe or two might be turned into doggy art."

Not quite. But first, please meet my dog. This is Parker.

He loves to run.

His favorite place in the whole wide world is a field in Vermont.

He has been known to steal things on occasion. Mostly snuggles.

He is BFF with his Auntie Michelle.

Parker is a 10 year old field spaniel, who does not deal with high stress situations well. He's fairly clingy, which apparently typical of spaniels as they bond closely with one person. He knows who Mom is and he's not afraid to let you know that Mom is pretty much his world. He is afraid of most everything else, though. Adjectives that have been used to describe Parker include "special," "ridiculous," and "pathetic." Clearly, he is part of a loving family: only people "related" to him would be so blunt and still let him crawl onto their laps on a regular basis.

His world consists most of Mom (me), Aunties Michelle and Heather, and Grandpa Bruce and Grandma Lynda (but don't let her overhear the G-word). He previously had a Grandpa Dave, but when Step-Dad John left, we didn't see the point of continuing with those visitation rights. Occasionally we go home and hang out with Grandma Lucy, and he gets along really with his cousin, Abby the Coon Hound. For my Facebook friends, you may have seen the pictures posted in my Mobile album of the two of them curled up together on the couch. It sent Auntie Michelle into diabetic shock from the sweetness.

Seeing as he's getting older, and some pretty traumatic shit went down in the last 6 months for a dog, Parker gets his food made for him. All of it. Every week. Made by yours truly. First there was the move from State St. to Pleasant, and new people to live with, and then it was sort of the August from hell. Then John and I started fighting more. This constant high stress level made him stop eating. To get him to start back up again, I started supplementing the dog food with some rice and sweet potatoes.

Eventually, between the not eating and the constant diarrhea and the weight loss, we went to the vet. We tried a special super special doggies with sensitive tummies food, and it worked OK. When I called to reorder, I asked if there was something similar but with a higher fiber content that we could try. But I apparently have an ass for a vet because several phone calls in and no returned phone calls later, he was on an all-Erin prepared meal system. (He will be completing his annual check up and rabies shot at a different vet this summer.)

The general theory is that because of his age, he's more sensitive to stress. The prolonged levels of stress (moving, new place, super friggin' humid, etc.) caused him to stop eating, which then affected the pH levels in his stomach in addition to losing 3 pounds. When you're only 32 lbs to begins with, losing 10% of your body weigh is sort of a big deal. In addition to the new food, he also had probiotics for two weeks to help him adjust to foods that weren't as pH neutral as I had been giving him (chicken and rice is pretty level). It worked: he stopped pooping liquids and started gaining weight. Panicked Mom Crisis Averted!

However, during the distinct lack of communication from my vet about high fiber diets, I had to feed him SOMETHING, so back towards the easy, homecooked meals we went. I also learned that I never want to be a doctor or a parent, because in addition to my terrible science skills, I've completely had my fill of looking at and talking about a child-figure's poop. Apparently both jobs do a lot of that, and I'm really OK with avoiding them.

I cook him massive amounts of food about every 6 days. We've played with portion size and supplements. Currently I'm looking at what veggies we can use: carrots, beans, other green things. Rice and meat (80/20 ground beef or boneless, skinless chicken breasts) is a staple, and sweet potatoes are pretty frequently eaten, too. Yogurt is given once a day (yay probiotics!) and he gets anti-histamine and herbal anti-arthritis pills at dinner time. He'll also get pieces of apples as treats, and will chase cranberries, of all things.

I've learned a few things through the dietary whirlwind.
  1. Find a good stain/odor remover and keep it on hand at all times. Getting low? Go buy more. NOW. (We use Nature's Miracle Advanced Stain & Odor Remover. It's awesome and I love it.)
  2. ONIONS ARE REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY BAD FOR DOGS. And no one ever told me about it. You hear about chocolate all the time (which is actually an allergy that most dogs possess, but not all. Parker gets into it at least 2x a year and I have yet to call a vet about it.)

    In short, there's an enzyme in onions that attacks the dog's red blood cells. a) They vomit and poop everywhere to get it out of their system and b) they will poop red stool and c) you will freak out about everything. Don't overly panic - keep them hydrated (Gatorade and water at a 1:1 ratio is good), pay attention when they poop and keep your vet informed and updated. Lethargy from a pained tummy is normal; passing out is not and should be addressed immediately. Luckily we didn't have any passing out.

  3. Sweet potatoes are like crack for dogs.
Is it a nuisance to cook like this for my dog? Well, it's not convenient, like pouring kibble out of a bag is. But it's not expensive. I think I probably paid more for Iams brand food than I do his homecooked meals, and I know that it's cheaper than the vet Rx food. I bought a 25 lbs bag of rice from Costco, which comes down to pennies per cup. It gets  a little interesting when I leave him with friends for a few days if I'm traveling, but so far I haven't had a problem with getting people to make food if needed (it probably helps that I provide detailed instructions AND all of the raw ingredients).

But really, honestly? It's probably better than most dog foods out there on the market. I know exactly what goes into his body. I know that it's not contaminated, that there's no weird cuts of even weirder meats, and that he's getting a balanced diet of carbs, proteins and lipids. He's still a little underweight, but we're not trying to rush that. He's happy, and eats his homemade food with far more gusto than he ever did dry kibble, so clearly it tastes better.

And what else could a Dog Mommy want than for her puppy to be happy, healthy and pooping normally?

Sunday, January 9, 2011

I can't eat that

Growing up in the Midwest during the 90s was special. Norms and commonalities of the day included corn and soy fields, mini-vans, semi-rural living, chain pizza restaurants, Roman Catholics and Lutherans, and carb heavy cooking. Figuring out along the way of my childhood who I was and what I liked, disliked and wanted was sometimes trying.

We knew from birth that I had food issues. I was breastfed for a long time, because my mother could better control what went into her body than what was in formula. A lot of my food was homemade through the toddler years and as we learned what was OK and not, my meals continued to be homemade and packed for school. Summer Girl Scout camp always was accompanied with rice or soy milk and cheese, and I knew how to read the ingredient list - and identify the problem ingredients, often with long, complicated chemical names - by the age of 8. I was a test subject for the blood allergy test, and learned that I had varied intolerance levels to SEVENTEEN foods. The biggies were wheat, corn and milk, but soy, chicken, chocolate, legumes, peanuts, cantaloupe, mushrooms, and others were not so awesome for me.

My symptoms were not overtly physical in nature: I did not break out into hives nor was I ever in danger of asphyxiation via anaphylactic shock. I had severe mood swings, headaches and migraines, terrible stomach aches, and general gastrointestinal distress (the toilet and I were BFF). My mother tells stories of how I would bang my head on the floor as a toddler because I couldn't communicate that I had a headache. At this point in my life, I am able to eat fairly normally. Wheat, milk, corn, chocolate and peanuts remain triggers of my neurological problems, i.e. migraines. Additionally, we've learned that I can't eat fake sugars because they cause migraines 100% of the time for me. Caffeine is also a powerful migraine trigger.

But being labeled a freak in elementary school because of my food issues was totally not fair. Today, it's common and acceptable to be gluten-free, have a nut allergy or choose to be Vegan. But 15 years ago in Northern Indiana, being the sole kid in a class of 20 with serious and numerous food issues was NOT fun. I was teased, pointed out, ridiculed - you name it, I dealt with it. I learned really young and the hard way that people were just stupid jerks, and that the only thing I could do was ignore them while I ate and read a book (because who wants to sit next to and talk with the weird girl who can't eat pizza and Dilly Bars?).

The entirety of my experiences and background give me a unique perspective into food and culture. I am always high aware of others' dietary restrictions. Religious, choice or medical: the reason doesn't matter. What does matter is that by paying attention to what really is not a detail, I try every day to practice kindness and thoughtfulness. We eat three times a day. Food is social, eventful, and a core part of our identities and cultures. Anyone who thinks differently is frankly an idiot.

I now have a very good friend who has a gluten intolerance. Though "intolerance" really doesn't give her issue justice, when a teaspoonful will send her to the ER. Cooking for and with her has renewed my interest in allergies and food culture. I eat with her at least 4 times a week, and sometimes the food we make or eat gets a little interesting. I don't view it as a negative in the least. Rather, it is a challenge to create tasty food with a limited list of ingredients, as if we're in our own private version of Top Chef or Iron Chef. (And I generally like being presented with a challenge, so it's a satisfying experience!)

But there is something to take away from all of this: There is so much CRAP in everything we eat. Corn syrup, wheat and soy-derivatives are everywhere, as they are cheap emulsifiers, preservatives, sweeteners and salt-ifiers. Our bodies were not made to be inundated with such processed foods, and there is something to be said for the raw diet movement (though I really, really prefer my eggs to be cooked). I don't eat pre-made snacks like fruit snacks or juice boxes, because they often have corn syrup in them. I don't drink soda, and all of my yogurt is 100% not-fat-free-low-calorie because aspartame and I are mortal enemies. Splenda and I have an equally spiteful relationship.

I do eat a lot of Asian food, and a lot of fresh homemade stuff. I tend to be heavy on the meats and veggies, light on the dairy, and I'm trying to cut back on the wheat/corn based carbs. Eating smart isn't just about calorie counting. It's realizing that our evolution as animals is tied to what we eat, which is based on what's available. You don't see a lot of obese animals in the wild, because they aren't munching on Cheetos. We are what we eat, and eating is about far more than simple calories.

That being said, I'm hungry and am going to go eat an apple. Mm, apples.

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Giving up, giving back

I'm not really into poetry. It's kind of one of those things where yeah, OK, I understand its cultural importance and blah blah blah but really, I'd rather read science fiction or historical fiction at the end of the day. So when a poem comes around that I actually like and feel a connection with, it's sort of a big deal.

Never Give All the Heart, W. B. Yeats
Never give all the heart, for love
Will hardly seem worth thinking of
To passionate women if it seem
Certain, and they never dream
That it fades out from kiss to kiss;
For everything that's lovely is
But a brief, dreamy. Kind delight.
O never give the heart outright,
For they, for all smooth lips can say,
Have given their hearts up to the play.
And who could play it well enough
If deaf and dumb and blind with love?
He that made this knows all the cost,
For he gave all his heart and lost.
I'll never give all my heart, for the time I once did was hard enough. The thought of giving that much of myself again sends me into a spiral of self-loathing so strong that I don't know what I'd do if it actually happened in person.

I'll never give all my heart, for the times I've spent crying aren't worth it.

I'll never give all my heart, because the only person I can always rely on 100% of the time is me.

I'm slightly bitter and jaded, perhaps. But I don't identify much with those adjectives. I am a strong, capable, independent woman. Giving that much of myself nearly destroyed me once. What idiot would do that twice? Not me. I am not "deaf and dumb and blind with love" because such an action would be a repeat of history. I learned the first time that giving everything isn't worth it. And if that means that the only stable relationship I have is with my dog, that's OK. Because Parker's probably cuter than most of the boys I've dated. And he always agrees with me.

I live. I learn. I love. But that doesn't require me to give everything. And I won't. I would rather be selfish and sane than stand there on the sidewalk with my heart and soul pouring out of me again, like sand from a broken hourglass. It's a price I'll pay, gladly. Self-preservation is logical and rational, and there's not much that anyone can say or do to convince me to change.

Never give all the heart. Because you can't live without one, and a damaged one isn't worth much, either.

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Tips and Tools

Things you'll see me use at work on a daily basis:
Heavily customized Firefox (which is why I won't switch to Safari or Chrome)
Apple Mail
iCal
Google Docs
JustNotes (beta)/Simple Note for iPhone
Mailman and email aliases
Dropbox
Adium
Clips (holds my last dozen copy/pastes)
Doodle
iTunes
iWork '09 (Apple's productivity suite)
1Password (Secure password management)
TimeMachine
Address book
Mobile Me syncing
My iPhone
Skullcandy earbuds (the name is weird, but the audio is great and they're comfortable)

Things you'll see my use at work on a weekly/monthly basis:
Bomgar (remote desktop control)
Cisco AnyConnect Client
Lynda.com

Things I use on a personal level:
Aperture
Just about everything on the daily work list
Calibre (ebook management and converter)

What do you use that you can't live without?